Poems, viz. 1. A panegyrick to the king. 2. Songs and sonnets. 3. The blind lady, a comedy. 4. The fourth book of Virgil, 5. Statius his Achilleis, with annotations. 6. A panegyrick to Generall Monck. / By the Honorable Sr Robert Howard.

Poems, viz. 1. A panegyrick to the king. 2. Songs and sonnets. 3. The blind lady, a comedy. 4. The fourth book of Virgil, 5. Statius his Achilleis, with annotations. 6. A panegyrick to Generall Monck. / By the Honorable Sr Robert Howard.

Table of contents

Title page

TO THE READER.

To my Honored Friend, Sr ROBERT HOWARD, On his Excellent Poems.

[1]

A PANEGYRICK To the KING.

[2]

To AMARANTA. The Fate of Scorn.

Song at AMARANTA's Command,

To the unconstant CYNTHIA. A SONG.

To the Same.

To the Same.

To CELIA. Who desired to have Verses, that were written on Her in a glasse Window, to be given Her in a sheet of Paper.

To AMARANTA. The Confession.

To Mrs. Mor. on the Birth of her First Son.

The Dream.

A DIALOGUE.

The Resolution.

The Opinion.

To AMARANTA, doubting his Constancy.

Upon hearing Mrs. M. K. sing.

AMARANTA, to the god of Love.

[3]

§

The Persons.

ACT 1.

SCEN. 1.

ACT 1. SCEN 2.

ACT 1. SCEN 3.

ACT. 1. SCEN. 4.

ACT 1. SCEN 5.

ACT 1. SCEN. 6.

ACT 2.

SCEN. 1.

ACT 2. SCEN. 2.

ACT 2. SCEN. 3.

ACT. 2. SCEN. 4.

ACT. 3.

SCEN. 1.

ACT 3. SCEN. 2.

ACT 3. SCEN. 3.

ACT 3. SCEN. 4.

ACT 3. SCEN. 5.

ACT 4.

SCEN. 1.

ACT. 4. SCEN. 2.

ACT. 4. SCEN. 3.

ACT 4. SCEN. 4.

ACT. 4. SCEN. 5.

ACT. 4. SCEN. 6.

ACT 4. SCEN. 7.

ACT. 5.

SCEN. 1.

ACT 5. SCEN. 2.

ACT. 5. SCEN. 3.

ACT 5. SCEN. 4.

ACT. 5. SCEN. 5.

ACT. 5. SCEN. 6.

ACT 5. SCEN. 7.

[4]

The Fourth Book of VIRGILL. Of the Loves of DIDO and AENEAS.

[5]

P. PAPINIUS STATIUS, His ACHILLEIS; The First Book.

§

ANNOTATIONS On the first Book of STATIUS his ACHILLEIS.

The Second BOOK.

§

ANNOTATIONS on the II Book of STATIUS his ACHILLEIS.

The Third BOOK.

§

ANNOTATIONS on the Third Book of STATIUS his ACHILLEIS.

The Fourth BOOK.

§

ANNOTATIONS on the IV Book of STATIUS his ACHILLEIS.

The Fifth BOOK.

§

ANNOTATIONS on the 5th Book of STA•IƲS his ACHILLEIS.

[6]

A PANEGYRICK to Generall MONCK.

§

§

[Page]

[Page]

POEMS, viz.

1. A PANEGYRICK to the KING.

2. SONGS and SONNETS.

3. The BLIND LADY, a COMEDY.

4. The Fourth Book of VIRGIL,

5. STATIUS his ACHILLEIS, with ANNOTATIONS.

6. A PANEGYRICK to GENERALL MONCK.

By the Honorable Sr ROBERT HOWARD.

LONDON, Printed for Henry Herringman, and are to be sold at his shop at the sign of the Anchor on the lower Walk of the New Exchange. 1660.

TO THE READER.

[Page]

[Page]

IT has been the usuall custom of Epistles, to give the Reader an account of the causes that brought those writings into publick, that were onely intended for a private Closet; and commonly it has been at the request of friends, perhaps with mingled truth and designe, to prae-engage the judgments of many, by telling the opinion of some, so to preserve their modesty as much in the pretence, as they could have done in the concealment of their Writings.

Though I cannot pretend such a cause as this, I can yet free my self from that vanity that others would avoid, by assuring the Reader, I had not stock of confidence enough to shew these things privately to many friends, much lesse to be furnish'd with enough, to make them publick to all [Page] indifferent persons, had not the desires of the Book-seller prevail'd with me: to whose civilities I believ'd my self so far engag'd, as to deny him nothing that he thought a kindnesse, which could not be severely prejudiciall to my self: Yet I doubted not, but that I should receive the censures of many; which, upon the granted principle of prejudice, appear'd not a reasonable argument to prevail with me to deny his request, since the same should as well perswade me not to live, for life and conversation r [...]nder man in Print more than letters can do; and is made more publick by that way, than he can be by this. His life is mingled more with his defects and passions, than probably his writings are; and whether they are equall, or exceed others, need not trouble him that writes: He may be satisfied, the production of retir'd hours are the best of himself. I had no great reason then to deny his request, that imagin'd he ask'd his own advantage, when he desired nothing that I believed contrary to mine.

Yet I wish that it may so far give satisfaction to all, that they may as little repent the r [...]ading, as I did the writing; whilst in these gentle studies I found a diversion from greater follies; and by that comparison they received obliging natures. Perhaps, there's few that read them, may [Page] not as well be conscious to themselves, to have spent some time not so [...]; and for that cause forgive that, which for its own sake they cannot admire.

For the severall subjects which here make one bundle, there is not any of them that have not layn by me these many years (two or three copies of Verses onely excepted); and had been wholly perhaps laid aside, but for the reasons given, applying my self now to more serious studies, according to the severall seasons of encreasing age, as the earth produces various fruits to the different seasons of the year. By this short account of time, the Reader may discern in what clowdy days my Muse spread her wings, as little contributing to her flying a noble heighth, as to shew a just subject: He that most deserv'd it was most deni'd it (as he was indeed his right in all things) either from private fear, or publick power, though I equall not the crime of faint thoughts in passive submission, to the guilt of bold profession in publick action. 'Tis now to be hop'd, that the praises of our Prince, who so much merits it, may be received willingly by all, since nothing can be said of him, that has not been done by him; and man's largest invention has been excell'd by His actions, there being nothing capable [...]o [Page] make him appear more excellent than himself; unlesse it had been our want of him, when by experience we found his miseries were ours, and all that we inflicted on him returned in double measures on our selves; l [...]ke stones madly tost into the air, and forc'd from their proper center, that fall back with encreas'd weight upon their heads that flung them. We are now presented that in him, which this world sparingly produces; in one composure, an object for our Consciences and Interest, in whose preservation, our Temporall and Eternall states have equall shares. Yet I should a little be dissatisfied with my self to appear publick in his praise, just when he was visibly restoring to power, did not the reading of the Panegyrick vindicate the writing of it, and, besides my affirmation, assure the Reader, It was written when the King deserved the Praise as much as now, but separated farther from the Power; which was about three years since, when I was Prisoner in Windsor-Castle, being the best diversion I could then find for my own condition; to think, how great his Vertues were for whom I suffered, though in so small a measure compar'd to his own, that I rather blush at it, than believe it meritorious.

For the other Verses and Songs, I must professe [Page] they were never directed to any particular Beauty, which may (to the Amorous Reader at least) be a just excuse, if they want Perfection, to remember I wanted Passion, and had onely my own warmth, unassisted by the influence of a Mistresse. Nor shall I envy him that writes better, by being much in love, if he must purchase the advantage of Wit by the losse of Freedom.

For the Translations, the Authors have already received those Characters from the world, that they need none of mine, especially Virgil, of whose works I have onely publish'd this one Book, that lay finished by me; not judging it convenient to perfect those other Books of his Aeneid's, which I have rudely gone through, having long since laid aside all designes of that nature; and this little of it rather grew publick from accident, than designe, the Mingle it had with my private Papers, was the greatest cause, that it received its share in the publick Impression.

For Statius, he had received commendations enough, had he been alone commended by Juvenal in his 7 Satyr. but Alexand. ab Alex. also, lib. 6 ch. 14. relates, that he thrice received the Victor's Lawrell in the publick reading of his Verses, and was once vanquish'd; as unjustly [Page] perhaps as Agelli lib. 17. ch. 4. Menander was judged to be overcome by Philemon, whose faction was greater, though his wit lesse; insomuch that meeting him afterwards, Menander desired him to confesse ingenuously, if he did not blush when he vanquish'd him. For this piece of his, I confesse I chose it as most pleasing to me, I wish it may be so to the Reader; though there wants not [...] in unâ Achilleide ita surgit ut illic multo sublimi [...]s ferri v [...]deatur, quam quó potuerit toto [...] hebaide perveniter Demit. ingenious men, who preferr'd it before his other Poems. The Annotations may in some places perhaps be judged too large; yet, had I omitted any thing, it is probable that the same persons would have censur'd me for ignorance: so that being equally sensible of these extreams, I judg'd it the testimony of the greatest modesty, By omitting little, to shew my self not at all secure in the world's opinion.

I have thus, ingenuous Reader, given you a clear and true account of my Self and Writings, not opprest with apprehension, nor rais'd by neglect; but preserv'd by an indifferency, that destroys not my civilitie to others, nor my own content; desiring not to engrosse, but share satisfaction. If in any thing I justly need, or designe to ask pardon, 'tis for Errors that probably the [Page] Reader may meet with; having been reduc'd to the strait of neglecting this, or businesse. I confesse my Interest prevail'd with me though, not wholly to neglect the Reader, since I prevail'd with a worthy Friend to take so much view of my blotted Copies, as to free me from grosse Errors. Having thus set down all my designe and reasons, I leave the Reader with as little Concern to use his, as I have shewed him mine.

To my Honored Friend, Sr ROBERT HOWARD, On his Excellent Poems.

[Page]

[Page]

AS there is Musick uninform'd by Art

In those wild Notes, which with a merry heart

The Birds in unfrequented shades expresse,

Who better taught at home, yet please us lesse:

So in your Verse, a native sweetnesse dwells,

Which shames-Composure, and its Art excells.

Singing, no more can your soft numbers grace

Then Paint adds charms unto a beauteous Face.

Yet as when mighty Rivers gently creep,

Their even calmnesse does suppose them deep,

Such is your Muse: no Metaphor swell'd high

With dangerous boldnesse lifts her to the sky;

Those mounting Fancies when they fall again,

Shew sand and dirt at bottom do remain.

So firm a strength, and yet with all so sweet,

Did never but in Sampson's Riddle meet.

'Tis strange each line so great a weight should bear,

And yet no signe of toil, no sweat appear.

[Page] Either your Arthides Art, as Stoicks feign

Then least to feel, when most they suffer pain;

And we, dull souls, admire, but cannot see

What hidden springs within the Engine be:

Or 'tis some happinesse that still pursues

Each act and motion of your gracefull muse.

Or is it Fortune's work, that in your bead

The curious

Rete Mirabile.

Net that is for fancies spread,

Let's through its Meshes every meaner thought,

While rich Idea's there are onely caught.

Sure that's not all; this is a piece too fair

To be the child of Chance, and not of Care.

No Atoms casually together hurl'd

Could e're produce so beautifull a world.

Nor dare I such a doctrine here admit,

As would destroy the providence of wit.

'Tis your strong Genius then which does not feel

Those weights would make a weaker spirit reel:

To carry weight and run so lightly too

Is what alone your Pegasus can do.

Great Hercules himself could ne're do more

Than not to feel those Heav'ns and gods he bore.

Your easier Odes; which for de [...]ight were penn'd,

Yet our instruction make their s [...]cond end,

We're both enrich'd and pleas'd, like them that woo

At once a Beauty and a Fortune too.

Of Morall Knowledge Poesie was Queen,

And still she might, had wanton wits not been;

[Page] VVho like ill Guardians liv'd themselves at large,

And not content with that, debauch'd their charge:

Like some brave Captain, your successfull Pen

Restores the Exil'd to her Crown again;

And gives us hope, that having seen the days

VVhen nothing flourish'd but Fanatique Bays,

All wi [...]l at length in this opinion rest,

"A sober Prince's Government is best.

This is not all; your Art the way has found

To make improvement of the richest ground,

That soil which those immortall Lawrells bore,

That once the sacred Maro's temples wore

Elisa's griefs, are so exprest by you,

They are too eloquent to have been true.

Had she so spoke, Aeneas had obey'd

VVhat Dido rather then what Jove had said.

If funerall Rites can give a Ghost repose,

Your Muse so justly has discharged those.

Elisa's shade may now its wandring cease,

And claim a title to the fields of peace.

But if Aeneas be oblig'd, no lesse

Your kindnesse great Achilles doth confesse,

VVho dress [...]d by Statius in too bold a look,

Did ill become those Virgin's Robes he took.

To understand how much we owe to you,

VVe must your Numbers with your Author's view;

Then we shall see his work was lamely rough,

Each figure stiffe as if design'd in buffe;

[Page] His colours laid so thick on every place,

As onely shew'd the paint, but hid the face:

But as in Perspective we Beauties see;

VVhich in the Glasse, not in the Picture be;

So here our sight obligeingly mistakes

That wealth which his your bounty onely makes.

Thus vulgar dishes are by Cooks disguis'd,

More for their dressing than their substance priz'd.

Your curious

Annotations on Statius.

Notes so search into that Age,

VVhen all was fable but the sacred Page,

That since in that dark night we needs must stray,

VVe are at least misled in pleasant way.

But what we most admire, your Verse no lesse

The Prophet than the Poet doth confesse.

Ere our weak eyes discern'd the doubtfull streak

Of light, you saw great Charls his morning break.

So skilfull Sea-men ken the Land from far,

VVhich shews like mists to the dul Passenger.

To Charls your Muse first pays her dutious love,

As still the Antients did begin from Jove.

VVith Monck you end, whose name preserv'd shall be,

As Rome recorded

Hic situs est Rufus qui pulso vindice quondam, Imperium asseruit non fibi sed Patriae.

Rufus memory,

VVho thought it greater honor to obey

His Countrey's interest than the world to sway.

[Page] But to write worthy things of worthy men

Is the peculiar talent of your Pen:

Yet let me take your Mantle up, and I

VVill venture in your right to prophesy.

"This VVork by merit first of Fame secure

"Is likewise happy in its Geniture:

"For since 'tis born when Charls ascends the Throne,

"It shares at once his Fortune and its own.

JOHN DRIDEN.

§

§

[Page]

[Page]

A PANEGYRICK To the KING.

THE true Parnassus (Sir) which Muses know,

Are Subjects which they choose; to whom they owe

Their Inspirations, differing as the times,

Unhappy Vertues, or successfull Crimes.

The greatest Choyce is, where the most Successe

Makes Fears as great, nor their Ambitions lesse.

With the Usurped Crowns they strive for Bays;

Those readier not to Act than These to Praise.

[Page]

My Muse (Great Sir) has no such fears, or knows

A better Impiration than your Woes.

To sing those Vertues which are all your own,

Not brought you by Successes [...] a Throne;

But by the malice of the world withstood:

So much 'tis easier to be Great than Good.

Which knows no end, or change by human things,

But like the world (Eternall) whence it springs.

Greatness is, as forbidden Pleasures are,

Reach'd by th'impious hands, that will but dare

Attempt all Crimes, still scorning a retreat:

Onely the Bad can be unjustly Great.

By Falls from Thrones, such, and the vertuous know

What Fate to them, or they to Fortune owe.

By courage nor by vertue can be staid

Fortune, which tired grows by lending aid.

So, when all Thrones on Caesar were bestow'd,

Not Fate to him, but he to Fortune ow'd,

And paid her back the vastest Principall

She ever lent, in his too-wretched Fall;

To whose successfull Courage once she gave

The

Rome, call'd by Livie, Totius Orbis D [...]minatri [...].

Mistress of the World to be his Slave.

To fair days, storms succeed; to storms, the fair:

We know but what we are by what we were.

And Mans condition's valu'd more or lesse,

By what he had, not what he does possesse.

For no Extreams could ever gain a Height

From their own natures, but each other's weight.

[Page] So * Lucan made the flying Pompey blame,

Not present Woes, but his too-early Fame.

Great * Scipio, whose too happy courage made

His Country free, and Hannibal's enslay'd,

Had been more happy, had he been but lesse,

And not fear'd want of glory, but excesse.

Whose Countrie-men's ungrateful fears were more,

For his successe, than Hannibal's before.

So much Plebeian Souls from Nature's School,

Are fitted more for Servitude than Rule.

Would such Examples had been onely known;

But we have felt a greater of our own,

In your Great Father seen; whose Sunshine-days▪

Deserves not more our wonder than our praise:

Nor did his days of Tempests lesse proclaim,

But taught us more of Miracle and Fame.

And equal'd all the miseries it brought;

By vertues, which unequal'd sufferings taught.

[Page] Frailty affliction brings; and yet a friend,

In giving those afflictions too an end.

Yet immortality can no blessing give,

But make that perfect, which must ever live.

His soul, refin'd so by Celestiall heat,

One could not hurt; and t'other ha's made great.

He pay'd his scores of Frailty, and of Joy's,

To live, where nothing that's enjoy'd destroy's.

And sell, lest this frail World like Heaven might be,

At once admitting Him, and Constancy.

Happy were we, had we but understood,

None were too great, nor we out selves too good!

Within our selves, and by our selves confin'd:

One by our Ocean; t'other by our Mind.

Whilst the obliged World, by War unsought,

Was willingly by gentler Traffick brought.

Secure and Rich; whilst every swelling Tide,

That brought us safety, brought us Wealth beside▪

Above the reach of the World's power grown,

And had been safe, had we but fear'd our owne.

What the Grave Spaniard, and the Belgian too,

The active French, by power could not do,

Our passions did; and quickly made it known,

We could be Conquered by our selves alone.

And acting that which others could not do,

Are now fit for their Scorn, and Conquest too.

How just, and sure Heaven's revenges are!

We slighted peace; and grow despis'd by War.

Like Mad men then, possest with Lunacy;

We now must find a Cure in misery.

[Page] And by our suffering, to our wits redeem'd,

Our long-lost peacefull temper grows esteem'd.

For man does most, by the Comparative,

At the true knowledge of Extreams arrive.

And in affliction's ready to adore,

That which he hardly could indure before.

How fatally this Nation proves it true,

In mourning for our banish't Peace; and You!

To You, Great Sir, Fortune's in debt alone,

Who can be no way pai'd, but by your owne.

Your Vertues have not more made Crowns your due,

Than sufferings taught you how to use them too.

Stroaks upon solid bodies do provoke

A secret brightnesse free, unmixt with smoak:

No grossnesse mingled; but bright sparks declare,

What mighty firmnesse their Composures are.

So whilst the stroaks of Fortune on You light,

Your mighty frame appears more firm and bright.

Affliction often by its powerfull weight,

Is the Case-shot of Destiny and Fate.

Routing faint principles together brought

By prosperous vertues; not by hazards taught.

Whilst the weak man is too much understood,

His frailty more, than his substantiall good.

As in the low declining of the day,

Mens shaddows more enlarged shew, than they;

So in the worlds great, last, adversity,

When every Element their power must try;

To dissolution they must all retire,

And leave but one pure Element of fire.

[Page] All that was grosse, which from weak nature flows,

In your great trialls, so expiring shows.

And all unto your Nobler Soul resign'd,

Nothing seems l [...]fe in you, but what's refin'd.

No longer, now, subject to what is frail,

But have from Nature, cut off the entail.

Nor yet could Fortune with her pow't or frowns,

Ravish your Father's Veroues, though his Crowns;

So little was th' esteem of human things,

To that once best, and now most blest, of Kings.

One that in all his time, was never known,

Greedy of Lives, though weary of his own.

Peace Crown'd his thoughts, though not his wretched time,

His Nature was his fate, his Crown his crime:

Despis'd by his own people, first; because,

He stoop't below his power, and their laws.

His easie gifts seem'd all but debts; when they,

Had nothing left to ask, nor he to pay.

Yet that he might unjust, or mean, appear,

For what his nature gave, they thank't his fear.

All the fair vertues of his Halcyon-times

Instead of gratitude contracted crimes

In those, who from the fears he ever had,

Of being ill, took boldnesse to be bad.

Such as on peace, the name of [idle] fling,

And make their Prince a Tyrant or no King;

So fell that Prince, too good for such bad times,

By his own Vertues, and by others Crimes.

Now against you, Great Sir, their swords are turn'd,

And joy in what the VVorld besides has mourn'd.

[Page] Still constant in their Crimes and Cruelty,

All Conscience turn'd into Necessity.

Which by the view of acted sins before,

Does safe appear, onely by doing more:

As those who quit firm shores, when the wind raves,

Must not retire, but bustle still in waves.

The wandring Needle so can never stay,

Till it finds out the Point it should obey.

Our Constitution toucht by Monarchy,

Till it rests there, must always wandring bee;

And that must fix in You: None could convay

True light, but He that ought to rule the day.

VVhen Phaeton did to that heighth aspire,

He brought not influence to the world, but fire:

So those led by Ambition to your Throne,

Have brought us ruine, and have found their own.

VVhilst thus our Sphear is over-cast with Clowds,

You (the bright Sun) their envious darkness shrouds,

As ready to break forth, when Factions here

Divide, as when dark clowds part in the Sphear,

The Sun can be. No offer you neglect,

To warm us with your lustre, and protect

From such foggs of mean Souls, which still will flie

O're us, till all's dispell'd by Majesty.

Once for your Kingdome's sake you durst oppose

Your Laurel'd Enemies with your * conquer'd foes.

Yet Heaven from your assistance then was staid,

Lest the ill Act the good had over-vveigh'd;

[Page] And in the Victory those Scots had found

Their Crimes together vvith your Vertues crovvn'd.

Then 'twas You did attempt your debt to pay

To Us or Nature, by a noble way.

The bold * Aeneas so, having left Troy

In its own funerall flames, scorn'd to enjoy

Safety alone; but, led by Vertues great

As vvere the Dangers he was to repeat,

Return'd among his ruin'd Friends and State,

To bring them safety, or to fetch their fate.

VVhilst our dull souls all nobler vvarmth deny'd,

The Covvard and th'Insensible divide

Our vvoes made habits by the use, or dare

Not think vve knovv hovv great our sufferings are.

Like those vvho dvvell in still-resounding Caves,

VVhere Nile sends headlong dovvn his rapid vvaves,

Are deaf, because the Clamors constant are,

The VVater not out-thundered by the Air.

So, still oppress'd, Custom at last denies

Unto our Souls the use of Faculties.

Thus is Your case in forlorn habits drest,

Rob'd of your friends by fear and interest.

VVhilst Princes little think (since change is sure)

To pitty others is to be secure;

Like those, vvho neither dying men deplore,

Nor have more thoughts of frailty than before.

[Page]

But HE above, to make his Povver knovvn,

VVhat exceeds ours, has fitted for his ovvn;

And can by those bad Instruments restore

Your Crovvns, that were their ravishers before.

By Jealousie, and their ambitious Pride,

VVhich may their Crimes among themselves divide;

Till in each others guilty bosome too,

They sheath their Svvords more justly than they drew.

Like Cadmus children that vvere born vvith strife,

Their quarrell's not lesse antient than their life,

VVhich never in successive mischief dyes,

And factions still on other's ruines rise.

So a svvell'd VVave in all its pride appears,

VVhose certain fate the follovving billovv bears.

In Storms, ruine on ruine still depends,

Till vvant of giddy vvaves the quarrell ends.

So Justice your returning Throne prolongs,

Till they upon themselves revenge your vvrongs.

That without Vict'ry you may Conquest find,

And without Blood your peacefull Brows may bind

With all those Crowns, which are as much your due

As Birth and Vertue can contribute to.

Thus the great Power of all, having first chose

To make your Vertues great and safe by Woes,

Will, by as unexpected ways, restore

Your ravish'd Crowns, as they were lost before.

Notes

*

—Sed longi poenas Fortuna favoris

Exigit a misero, quae tanto pondere famae

Res premit adversas, fatisque prioribus urget.

Lucan. Phar. lib. 8.

↵

*

Hannibal, in his excellent Speech to Scipio between their Armies, then ready to fight, set down by Livie; among other motives to Scipio for peace, by his own example, advises him to be secure from the Ingratitude of his Country; which afterwards was too largely evident by their reducing him to Privacy as great as his former Glories, and render'd themselves unworthy of his Ashes, which to this day lie in an unknown Grave.

↵

*

Comming in with the Scots, who were before Conquer'd by the English at Dunbar.

↵

*

Stat casus renovare omneis, omnemque reverti Per Trojam, et rursus caput objectare perîclis. Virg. lib. 2. Aeneid.

↵

§

§

[Page]

To AMARANTA. The Fate of Scorn.

IF you the world could Conquer one by one,

You'd then want Trophies for your boundless mind;

Like that ambitious ¹ Prince, who wanted room,

In the strait circuit of the world confin'd.

Then like the Tyrant ² Nero you must fall;

Such fate's as his due to such cruelty,

Unpittied and unminded too of all,

At once without a Friend or Enemy.

The Souldier that joyns Conquest to his name

By Victories, when overcome with years,

(As you must one day be) preserves his fame,

Not by those wounds he gave, but those he bears.

So when your Charms in Age's furrows lie

Lost, and forgotten, they had once so mov'd;

[Page]

One Wound amidst your heaps of Victory

Would better tell, that you had been belov'd.

Then like a Tyrant ravish'd from his Throne,

You'l wish, that you had gentlier us'd your own.

Song at AMARANTA's Command,

set to the Tune of ARCHIBELLA.

FAir Amaranta, if thy Eyes

Could force some feigned tears to rise,

It might my easie thoughts suffice.

And joyn'd with mine, perhaps might prove

Enough my Sorrows to remove;

I do not ask they should my Love.

But mine, I fear, thy tears will fright;

And like those * Rivers that take flight

In the same Banks, yet ne'r unite.

Those streams from springs like ours might flow,

The tears can ne'r united grow,

Of feigned grief and reall woe.

[Page]

Should you too weep, though 'twere for me,

I should be so concern'd for thee,

To beg again thy cruelty.

No, there's no way to cure my pain,

But paying Truth and Love again,

Such, and as great as feeds my flame.

To the unconstant CYNTHIA. A SONG.

TEll me once, Dear, how it does prove

That I so much forsworn could be?

I never swore always to love,

I onely vow'd still to love thee:

And art thou now what thou wert then,

Unsworn unto by other men?

In thy fair Breast, and once-fair Soul,

I thought my Vows were writ alone;

But others Oaths so blurr'd the Scrole,

That I no more could read my own.

And am I still oblig'd to pay,

When you had thrown the Bond away?

Nor must we onely part in Joy,

Our tears as well must be unkind:

VVeep you, that could such truth destroy;

And I, that could such falseness find.

[Page] Thus we must unconcern'd remain

In our divided Joys and Pain.

Yet we may love, but on this diff'rent score,

You what I am, I what you were before.

To the Same.

YOu are not, Cynthia, better pleas'd than I,

That you first led the way

Through this dark night of blind Inconstancy,

And first found break of Day.

To freedom now we'l sacrifice dreams past.

'Twas my good fate to cry Good-morrow last.

Perhaps so soon I could not dis-engage,

Having a greater score.

Some Birds will longer hover round the Cage,

Though 'twas their Jayl before.

Yet sure I meant not long to sit about

The ashes, when the fire was quite burnt out.

Since now my Jaylor has my Chains unty'd,

I'le hold my hand no more

Up at Love's Bar; he is condemn'd untride,

That has been burnt before.

Now that heart-sickness which she gave, protects;

'Tis seldom that the same plague twice infects.

[Page]

Breasts that have known Love's cruell slavery,

Are better fortifi'd

By that experience than they ere can be,

By reason or by pride.

Then blush not that you quench'd this am'rous flame,

But blush with me, if we two love again.

To the Same.

TEmpt me no more (fair Cynthia) 'tis as vain,

As was the hated Action when you lost,

What you unjustly fancy novv to gain;

Though at the same repeated vice's cost.

For he you lov'd more than your Constancy,

Must suffer now as then you injur'd me.

Such punishment attends that hated sinne,

That the repentance of it, is a Crime:

And you to gain my heart must act agen

The vice which lost it first, from being thine.

How justly does Love's-god his power show,

In making the unconstant ever so?

That * Queen whose charms on Caesar all could do,

He did to others by his Sword and Mind,

[Page] Making the VVorld his Slave and Lover too;

Had she as constant been as fair and kind.

Octavius vvould have blush'd at thoughts to have,

Romes conquering Caesar's Mistris for his slave.

Nor did one Caesar justlier think his Love,

Paid to her charm's, vvhilst equall flames she feels,

Than t' other vvhen she did unconstant prove,

Design'd those beauties for his Chariot-wheels.

So you may fall unpitti'd as she did,

Unconstant unto all things but her pride.

Those beauties vvhich in your fair face and eyes,

So long have rendevouz'd in Constant pay,

Like Armies still attempting victories,

And alway's kept on duty, must decay.

Then vvhen those troops of beauties once decline,

You'l feel the vvant of your lost Truth and Time.

To CELIA. Who desired to have Verses, that were written on Her in a glasse Window, to be given Her in a sheet of Paper.

YOur praises vvhich the vvounded glass did bear,

By your Command this paper now must wear;

[Page] Both's due to you, 'tis just all praises meet,

Of VVomen, in a glasse, or in a sheet.

To AMARANTA. The Confession.

NOvv I confesse, I am ore'come,

Though the out-vvorks vvere storm'd before,

Yet they seem'd slighted and not vvonne;

VVhilst I had a Reserve in store.

But she that Conquers not in part,

Storm'd then my heart;

VVhich famish't reason kept before.

She had corrupted so my Spies,

And me to that Condition brought,

I durst not send abroad my eyes;

But like a Covvard vvink't and fought.

For vvhen I did those helpers use,

They brought me nevv's;

She had fresh troops of beauties got.

See vvhat is unrestrain'd desire,

And to give leave to vvandring eyes,

Like that fond fool that plaies vvith fire;

VVhere all the Ammunition lies.

And to attempt retreats is vain,

VVhen the laid train.

Had taken fire from her eyes.

[Page]

Now my blown flame can fewell find,

Of every thought I have, and knows

How to disgest my peace of mind;

For in distemper'd breasts Love grows.

Well did the antient Poets feign,

That from the Main,

And troubled Waves, Love's goddesse rose.

Yet though condemn'd, I blush to grieve,

As much as once I did to love;

I'm pleas'd his Laws grant no reprieve:

He that to Fate would slowly move,

Has lost his courage with his heart,

And that mean part

May make her scorn a justice prove.

To Mrs. Mor. on the Birth of her First Son.

THus Heaven does you & us from fears redeem:

At once gives Joy; and to that, Joy Esteem.

Those relish Ease that first have tasted Pain;

By knowing what we want, we value gain.

So great and perfect now your blessings are,

You seem in more than what is frail to share;

Whilst you renew your lease of life and fame,

By living thus in vertues and in name.

[Page] 'Tis just this child should be in all your heir,

And equally of life and vertues share.

For whilst he lay within his living Tomb,

How could he but contract what was your own?

So water, pour'd into a vessell, owes

A relish to the cask through which it flowes.

Thus you give vertues and give life away,

Yet not lesse good, nor suffer by decay.

One flame unto a thousand may give light,

Yet has not lesse, nor does remain lesse bright.

But thus whilst life and vertue you bestow,

Think to his happy passion what you owe.

Had you left unrewarded his pure flame,

You must have lost your share in time and fame.

So in the Chaos before Love made way,

Both Time and Glory unregarded lay.

But see what mutuall obligations past,

You gave him Joys, and he thus makes them last.

The Dream.

STay thou still, dearest Shape, O do not fly!

Why do those charming looks appear so strange?

In t'other world there's no inconstancy,

Nor has my Love in this admitted change.

The Joys in t'other world the gods bestow,

Do from enlarged love and knowledge flow.

[Page]

Since then you needs must know I have been true,

And my faith tells, you cannot but be so;

What cruell unknown Law obliges you,

By this reserv'dness, to encrease my wo?

Like Tantalus, who always is deny'd

Those streams which by his longing senses glide.

Is it as wise men often tell us here,

Though love and knowledge shall have an encrease,

They'l have no partiall applications there;

Knowledge resolves in Praise, and Love in Peace.

As Sunshine equally on all reflects,

Yet to one object most no beam directs?

Or are you now forbid to own a fire,

(Though kindled by the blessed shape you bear)

Whilst rak'd in living ashes? This desire,

You sure may own, and sure the gods will hear.

In pitty of my woes this blessing give,

That I may die, or unconcern'd may live.

A DIALOGUE.

Thirsis. Charon.

Thir.

CHaron, O gentle Charon, bring thy Boat.

Char.

Who's this that calls with an unusuall note?

Thir.

Hither thy Vessell, gentle Charon, drive.

[Page]Char.

Thou speakst as if that thou wert now alive.

Thir.

And may I still be so, unlesse to me

Thou tell'st large joys of your Eternity.

Char.

Why wouldst thou know? since those that bodies have

I seldom row, or those that want a grave.

Thir.

Ep [...] thee why?

Char.

A sinful Soul will sinck

My patcht-up Bark almost below the brink.

Should Bodies too with their offences go,

'Twould sinck me quite.

Thir.

By that then thou dost know

If any Soul has past these fatall streams,

Whom good or ill has govern'd in extreams.

Char.

Perhaps I may.

Thir.

Then, gentle Charon, tell

What I shall ask, and I'le reward thee well.

Char.

Ask quickly then, for here I never wait,

Souls croud so fast; Ambition, War, and Fate

Send custom still.

Thir.

Did not thy fatall Boat,

But lately, as if lost in tempests, float?

If thy Boat feels the humor of the Soul

It bears, sure it did lately strangely roul.

Char.

I carried such a one, a Woman too,

Who then I guest had been too much untrue,

My Boat so totter'd still. Wouldst go where she

Now lives?

Thir.

Not I, but rather tel to me,

What she does there?

Char.

She fickly wanders now,

And ever must, in glo [...]my shades below.

[Page] 'Tis just they never should directly find,

Or know their way, that never knew their mind.

Thir.

I should have wander'd too, it seems; had I

But thought it fine to whine, and grieve, & die.

Nor yet her falsness, nor the cruelty

Of one more fair and good, could work on me,

To break my heart; perhaps it did my sleep.

Didst thou not carry, o're this fatall Deep,

One that appear'd severe, yet strictly good?

Char.

My Bark did then but gently kiss the Floud;

She was no weight, for vertue was her guide,

And helpt me too as much as could a Tide.

Thir.

She sure sits always still; but should I find

Her in your World, Might she at last grow kind?

Char.

No, Never now; for there may grow a crime,

Where there can be a change in thought or time.

But if to go to her thou dost desire,

Thy joy must be, at distance to admire.

Thir.

I thank thee, gentle Charon; now I'le stay,

Since I must either doat, or lose my way.

I'le back to our dull World again, and find

A Mistress, if I can, both fair and kind.

For since at last we hither all must throng,

'Tis good, I see, to bring one's heav'n along.

I hope the gods too will with this dispence,

To be unconstant in one's own defence.

Char.

Why then farewell.

Thir.

When I return my scores

I'le pay in vertues which shall be thy Oars.

[Page] Back to my World I'le go,

Char.

and I to mine.

Chor.

That Breast has heaven's light where Vertues shine.

Heaven dwells in breasts, kept free from crimes and hate;

The place does but preserve from change and fate.

The Resolution.

NO Cynthia, never think I can

Love a divided heart and mind;

Your Sunshine love to every man,

Appears alike as great as kind.

None but the duller Persians kneel,

And the bright god of Beams implore:

Whilst others equall influence feel.

That never did the god adore.

The riches of your Love's put forth,

And ev'ry man retains a part,

You can't call't in, to make you worth

The purchase of a faithfull heart.

Hope not to be mine, or your own;

You can't your selfe to me restore,

The Nest is left, the Birds are flown.

And bankrupt-Love sets up no more:

[Page]

Your kindnesse which at randome flyes,

Makes your Love-patients all secure,

But they will find your Emp'rick eyes;

Can only palliate, never cure.

Though I resolve to love no more,

Since I did once; I will advise.

The love of Conquests now give o're,

Disquiets wait on Victories.

To your much injur'd peace and name,

Love's farewell as a tribute pay,

Grow now reserv'd and raise your fame;

By your own choice not your decay.

She that to Age her charms resignes,

And then at last turns Votary;

Though Vertue much the change inclines,

'Tis sullied by Necessity.

The Opinion.

LOng have I thought, It was in vain,

To seek to purchase Love or Fame:

For both alike would slide away,

Or by my own, or her decay.

For Love and Fame, crown'd with successe,

Do from enjoyment both grow lesse.

[Page]

Had the god's so, but been content,

I would have liv'd indifferent.

Not to have fear'd extreams of fate,

Or Cares, that from lost Joyes take weight;

Indifferency all safety keeps,

Ther's none unhappy whilst he sleeps.

But strangely wak't, she did surprize,

My blisse and reason with her eyes:

So lazy Princes wanting aime,

To seck to purchase love and fame,

Are by some slighted power o'recome,

The scorn of others, and their own.

Now she too much her power knows;

So some resisted stream o'reflows

More than its usuall banks; nor I

Dare longer her just power deny:

That must above the Common rate,

Not reward passions but Create.

To AMARANTA, doubting his Constancy.

AS from a neigh bouring rock, afflicted eyes

See their lov'd object, tost by threatning waves,

Rude messengers of angry destinies;

Their swelling wombs grown fertile too with graves.

[Page] Safety and joy, their nature lose; whilst he,

Share's with the others, fears and destiny.

So from the height of all my happinesse,

Whilst I see storms of fears oppresse thee so,

I wish thy justice more, though kindnesse lesse;

My grief is far more gentle then thy woe.

Though both wayes led unto my fate, yet I

Would as thy Martyr, not thy Traitor, dye.

Seldome, its true, the mighty stock of Love,

Meets in one mind, with such refined sense,

As to preserve that which it can't improve,

Only by paying its own just expence.

Not all those taxes which vain eyes designe,

To many beauties, and decaying time.

Yet there is Love, like mine, can know no end,

Above the reach of any change or fate,

Ile smile at beauties too, that would pretend

A reformation in my happy state;

Be but as kind, as I will constant prove,

And make my Joyes as perfect as my Love.

Upon hearing Mrs. M. K. sing.

OUr vain Philosophy can only teach,

But not command, when sorrows make a breach

[Page] Upon the heart: but to thy voice we pay

Obedience, whilst we slight what wisemen say.

Thy charming breath through our enchaunted ears,

Possession takes, where once our hopes and fears

Rais'd storms before, and the becalmed breast,

No longer now by cruell care's opprest.

'Twere Heaven protected thus from all extreams,

Were but thy breath Eternall, and our Dreams.

So Orpheus, led not by his fate but choice,

To the dull world of shades his charming voice;

Brought Heaven there, and made the torments cease,

Th' infernall businesse all lock't up in peace.

His voice, the busie Furies could compose,

And thine our passions, Furies great as those.

By Lethe's streams, which brought forgetfulnesse,

Souls were secur'd of present happinesse.

So thy Loud voice, not only Joy procures,

But, by oblivion too, our cares secures.

We, whilst you Sing, in state of blisse remain,

And when you cease, shrink to our selves again.

AMARANTA, to the god of Love.

AH, mighty Love, what power unknown,

Hast thou now us'd more than thy own!

It was thy conduct and designe,

But not thy power that Vanquish't mine.

As a great Captain to his Name,

Of every Conquest joynes the fame;

[Page] Though 'twas not by his power got,

But Army's, by his Conduct brought:

So when thou could'st not do't alone,

Thou lead'st his troops of Vertues on.

And I now feel by my surprize,

Thou hast not only darts but eyes;

Just god! now take again thy Arms,

And rally all I have of charms.

What pow'r and conduct cannot do,

Make his beliefe contribute to.

So, when the earth some promise shows,

That she does greater wealth inclose;

Believing men search her rich veins,

And crown their hopes with unknown gains;

May he, but at the first, incline to Love,

Then by my Faith, and Time,

His Justice, after the surprize,

Shall be more fetter'd than his eyes?

Notes

1.

Alexander the Great, of whom Juven. 10. Aestuat infelix angusto limite mundi.

↵

2.

Suetonius, in the Life of Nero, reports, that in his last extremity, when he sought for Spicillus the Fencer, or any, to dispatch him: And equally wanting Friends and Enemies to afford him that last favour; Ergo ego (inquit) nec Amicum habeo, nec Inimicum?

↵

*

The Sava and Danubius, whose streams never mix in threescore miles together, as Sir Henry Blunt in his Travells affirms.

↵

*

Cleop [...]tra, whole beamy gain'd her as absolute an Empire over Julius [...]; as he had over others, by his victories and vertues. After him, this Queen as various in Love, as in Ambition, extended her Conquests over Marcus Antoni [...]s, to whose power Octavius Caesar put an end, overthrowing the Lovers in a Batrell, and design'd Cl [...]opatra to adorn his Triumph, who by death prevented a shame, so contrary to her former glories.

↵

The Blind Lady.

The Blind Lady.

§

[Page]

[Page]

THE BLIND LADY A Comedy.

[Page]

The Persons.

SIgismond King of Poland.

Albertus Vaivvode of Ruthenia.

Phylanter his son.

Mironault Vaivvode of Lithuania.

Hippasus, Pysander, friends to Mironault.

Lycespes, friend to Phylanter.

Symothacles, Generall to the King.

Peter, servant to the Blind Lady.

Messengers, Huntsmen, Tenants.

Mirramente, the Princesse.

Amione, sister to Mironault.

Philena, a great Lady attending the Princesse.

Coeca, a Blind Lady.

Quinever, her Maid.

[Page]The Blind Lady.

ACT 1.

SCEN. 1.

Enter Albertus, Phylanter.

Alb.

BUt upon what injury, Phylanter?

Phy.

Love and Ambition, Sir, those two great injuries

Of mens seduced minds, which fill the thoughts.

Full of Revenge, not with the justnesse of it.

What Mironault has done, moves not my hate;

But what he may, my fears. By her, a Kingdom, Sir;

And, with her self, a World—

Falls in my arms. How slow you are to crown

Me and your self with happinesse?

You can love neither, and deny.

Alb.

But are you sure he comes?

Phy.

I am certainly inform'd so.

Alb.

Yet consider, son, how will the King resent,

That whilst he's paying his duty to the Princesse,

He should be there surprised?

[Page]Phy.

That is your part for to prevent, Sir,

Telling the King, (such minds are ever jealous)

That his designes were to surprise the Princesse.

'Twill appear service then, and may destroy

My Rival's interest, if not advance my own.

Those, Sir, that traffick in these seas,

Fraught not their Bark with fear [...]:

Besides, there needs none now.

Alb.

Yet think again, though, as you are my son,

I can deny you little; and 'tis more just

You should, deny your self, and not obey

These hasty passions. He ne're injur'd you;

Or if he had, there were a nobler way

For your reven [...]e than this. You are angry

That the world's pleased with him, and that he may

Enjoy a bliss you wish for; or, at least,

Because he wishes it as well as you;

A Quarrell which Mankind must lay aside,

Or all be Murtherers.

Phy.

You told me, I did obey my passions,

To those you give your reasons then:

As much you may expect from them,

As if you told the winds they blew. too hard.

Think of the Cause, then judge of the Effect.

'Tis Love—Love for the Princesse too,

For whose fair sake, Who'd not attempt

The angry billows swell'd with horrid storms,

The Sea-gods Pyramids, when every wave

Bears too, like those, within its womb a grave,

Or dangers yet unheard of? Determine, Sir,

[Page] For I resolve to act; and let the story then

Come to his unprepared ears.

Alb.

Well, that I may proserve you

From some more unadvised course, (if more can be)

I'le do it; but take heed

Of letting violence be offer'd to him:

Preserve thy self free from so foul a crime.

Love's way lies not through blood. Consider too

What we now go to act; nor blush

To think thou didst do ill, or that 'twill throw

Aspersions on thy judgment, to dislike

The folly thou hadst dotingly embrac'd.

Hee's wise that sees his error at the last,

Who weighs all these in perfect scales,

Shame of his crime, and not his wit, prevails.

Farewell, I leave you to your thoughts.

—I'le on my way to night.

Heaven direct and prosper you.

Exit.

Phyl.

How nice his conscience was—now to my businesse.

And thou, great god of Love, that rul'st my heart,

Attempt but Fortune with as kind a Dart;

That whilst I reach at what can scarcely be,

Fortune as madly too may dote on me.

—Now all things but designe

Leave me—and yet—it looks but odly,

To put off all this honesty at once,

And to have none about me.

Or was it ever mine? sure I borrow'd it,

And 'tis a thing that's taken up on trust;

[Page] I owe the world so much; I'le think on't

When I can pay it. Lycespes, welcome,

Enter Lycespes.

I was resolved just now to seek you.

Lyces.

You would have found me still prepar'd to serve you.

Phyl.

You are my noble friend, nor will I say,

That I shall try it now; this onely can

Preserve it. But words are wasters of our time,

And robs us still of action. As fast then as you can

Get all our friends in readinesse, as many

As possibly you can, well arm'd and mounted.

Return with all the speed your Love can make.

As we go you shall know all,

The rest must live in ignorance.

What Power now to invoke I hardly know,

Yet every god has felt what Love can do.

[Exeunt.

ACT 1. SCEN 2.

Enter two Huntsmen.

1.

COme, the Princesse is hard at hand:

And if we haste not, she may overtake us.

To night too, we must lodge the Deer.

2.

We need not care for that; this Forrest

Is so well stor'd, that Game's in every Thicket.

It causes the Princesse constant progresse

[Page] Into these parts—But who are these?

Enter Mironault, Hyppasus, Pysander.

1.

'Tis the brave Mironault.

Mir.

Well overtaken, Huntsmen,

Is the Princesse

Yet far behind?

2.

No, my Lord, he is almost in sight.

Exeunt Hunts.

Mir.

I thank you—

—Whither does Love thus hurry me?

A Tyrant that denies the smallest hopes,

Where he gives largest wishes!

The greatest Beauties are like greatest Wealths,

Subjects for all mens wishes, not their hopes.

Fears share with Love the Empire of the heart,

Rendring alike the Lover and the Coward.

Danger's the awfull Mistresse of the one,

Who fears to tempt her, lest he should endure

That fate too quickly, which he knowes is sure.

So, whilst the other's Mistress too is ignorant,

Onely more slow, the pining Lover dies,

And that sure fate but hastes, if she denies.

Hyp.

Dear Sir, let not grief thus torment you.

You should have there a nobler Guest, your Reason;

And were that there, there hardly could be room

For such disorders. Passions are like Thieves,

That watch to enter undefended places,

And rob you too of all that put's a difference

Between Wild-beasts and Man. Yet, mistake not;

Your grief, if not dispair, is the fond passion

I speak against, and not the love they spring from:

That were her injury, to whom alone

[Page] All is due, as Rivers to the Ocean.

Yet Nature has decreed, that she must love:

Believe your worth and your devotion then

As great as any—

Mir.

O Hyppasus—

'Tis easier far to counsell than to act;

And every one's provided with the wisdom,

That has not interest in the misfortune.

And those that in Feavors, though 'tis their ruine,

Wish Rivers of drink; the standers by,

That then advise, and, may be, wonder at them,

Would, in the same disease, do just so too.

Pysan.

You know not, Sir, but this great goddesse

May be a little mercifull: by this hand,

If she be not, I'le be revenged,

On half the Sex at least, by proving rigorous

To those poor Wenches I have prated to;

That's every one almost that e're I saw—Then forsooth

Will the poor creatures wish their amorous heads

Fill'd with Romances, pine, and die,

With Willow-garlands under Myrtle-shades:

And grief for them will kill the Mothers too.

Your Princesse shall not have many Female Subjects.

Mir.

I thank thee, good Pysander, for attempting

To mix thy mirth with my opposing griefs.

But they are contraries, and cannot meet in one.

—but let it perish withme—I must again

Desire your secresies.

Hyp.

Nay that's—

Mir.

Pardon me, Hyppasus—

[Page] I know it's needlesse to repeat

A wish of mine to either of you:

But what men's thoughts are full with, issue forth,

With too much haste and freedom.

Pysan.

Will you take my advice, Sir?

Hyp.

Nay pray, Sir, hear him.

Mir.

Come, what is't, Pysander?

Pysan.

Wholsom extreamly! For the kind constitution

Of a decaying Lover; this is the short Receipt.

In the first place, make your self—very—drunck.

Nay, nay, you need not wonder; by divine Bacchus,

'Tis a rare expression of passion to court disorderly,

To make a meer Chaos of one's self, and then give her▪

The honor of Creating you; then, besides,

All truth and all good nature will appear.

If this be not the way to be consider'd, I'l be judg'd—

Hyp.

How do you like it, Sir?

Mir.

There's kindnesse in't to me, I know, Hyppasus;

And were I capable of mirth, it might produce it.

But Grief and Love are throng'd together,

And have scarce room enough.

Hyp.

Have either Joy or Grief, wee'l share with you;

Nor was't our fears of having part

That made us wish you none; we value you

And our own lives at the same rate:

We wish them free from all misfortunes,

Yet share all willingly rather than part.

But we must alter now that shew of trouble

Which we have given our selves; for the Princesse

[Page] Must needs be neer.

Mir.

See Hippasus—.

I had forgot the subject of my thoughts,

How greedily I wish, yet fear to see her!

Like some poor Votary, whose holy thoughts

Sets off so much, the joyes of Paradise,

That it employes as many fears as wishes.

—Hark she comes! You Powers above,

Lend Love and Fortune now their eyes,

To help, or see at least, their sacrifice.

Prin.

You 're well met, my Lord,

Was it a chance,

Or your designe that brought you?

Enter Princesse Philena & followers.

Mir.

'Tis all I have about me of ambition,

And of large wishes, that I may often

Have leave thus to present my service.

Prin.

Your service, Sir, has been so much considerable,

That I should be alone guilty of folly,

Did I not valew it at such a rate,

As the whole World have sett upon it.

Miro.

If I had such a power, to oblige

As much, as you are pleas'd to say I have;

The World's applause, could not so much reward

My services, as your receiving of them.

Prin.

My interest, next to my Father's,

In this obliged Nation by your valour,

Has made it gratitude ever for me,

To avow that and more.

Mir.

I have then much of my best wishes crown'd,

Yet should you know all that my heart conceals,

[Page] Though it be much like this, you'd be displeas'd

With what you have pretended to allow.

Prin.

I cannot find this guilt about me, and can lesse guesse.

How you should have a thought that should displease me.

You cannot but oblige, and I as hardly

Can tell what's injury, if you should do it.

Mir.

This is a kindnesse, still admired Princesse,

That I must never ask the meaning of;

But to my flatter'd fancy, so interpret

As you would never do: yet 'tis unjust,

That I should use, the least kind word from you,

With an advantage to my selfe.

Prin.

Sure, I may give you leave to do it,

For such a confidence I justly have

Of your great vertues, that you ever

Pursue your own advantages with others.

Mir.

'Tis true, to the undeserving World,

I can perform all this, only to you

I am unjust, that never wish

A good to you, when I desire most.

Prin.

I hardly understand you: if I do,

The world is more oblig'd to you than I.

Mir.

Such a strange Character, my fate

Has thrown upon me, yet my selfe,

And all that World, which seems so much

Beholding to me more than you,

Are as much lesse in my esteem,

As are the sands unto the mingled jewells,

The Negro brings up from the Deep together.

[Page]Prin.

Is there a possibil [...]y to know,

Your meaning then?

Mir.

You should, if I were sure you would forgive it,

Yet thus much take in guesses. Could Shades be sensible,

And wish the embraces of the Sun, were not that Lamp,

Injur'd by that which lov'd it, could rude beasts

Be passionate for Empire, and not injure

The Throne because they lov'd it. 'Tis I

That am more dark then all those shades,

You brighter then that Sun; 'Tis I

That am that Beast rob'd of all reason.

And you above all Empires; I have acknowledg'd

My unsuspected guilt, because t'was so,

And though I cannot leave my Love,

I may my Life.—

Prin.

You have done more than given me leave to guesse,

And since I have my selfe been guilty too,

In giving you the occasion I shall forbear

Such a displeasure as is due, and let you know.

T'was easie too for me to erre, that could so little

Imagine you to be so guilty: I shall adde

Only thus much, that as you valew

My presence or esteem, repeat no more

Any thing of this nature—Come let's on:

Exeunt Princess and Attendants.

Mir.

So Merchants for a tempting venture

Bankrupt themselves; yet what wealth had I

Before I knew my poverty from her?

[Page] 'Tis nothing I have lost, the difference is,

That I have something now I wish to lose,

Hyp.

She is not, Sir, a greater enemy,

To your content, than you are to your selfe:

'Tis you enlarge her frowns by fancied fears,

Mir.

Those that are free from danger, my Hyppasus.

May look and wonder at another's fears,

That is environd with it: 'tis Concern

That is the excuse for Passion; were you my Rivall,

The Counsell would be juster if you gave it,

—Come we must not stay behind,—

Ther's nothing but a Lover pleas'd with sufferings.

All other rigors of this World,

Our wishes and endeavours still oppose,

The Prisoner hates his bolts, whilst he remains

Pleas'd not so much with sreedom as his chains.

[Exeunt

ACT 1. SCEN 3.

Enter Phylanter solus.

Phyl.

TRust me a little, Fortune, with my self,

I do not ask thy aide grow big my hopes,

And swell unto a Throne,

To Crown my Love, and my Ambition on;

From thence I'le view the thing cal'd Honesty,

[Page] And grieve 'tis so contemn'd, and ought to be.

—Man is like pliant Wax,

That yields unto a fair Impression,

Though sent not from the noblest Metall:

And, in this world, it bears an equall show

To seem but onely honest, or be so.

And when the Crown's once gain'd, there needs no fears:

Crimes change their natures then, or Men change theirs.

—Dye—Scruples—in my thoughts,

And let my mind be a preposterous grave,

That bore you first, to bury you again:

—and your base issue—Fear—

Dye too, when Beauty and a Crown's so near.

—Lycespes welcome; what news?

Enter Lycespes.

Lyces.

All as you would have it, Sir:

The Troop is march'd, and stays you in the VVood,

Between this and the Castle.

Phyl.

Let's follow then;

For Time's a busie Offerer of our Interests

To every check of Fortune.

Lyces.

VVe make some threescore Horse,

VVhich will be three Divisions; one for each Port.

Phyl.

Let Martianus command the last.

As we go, I'le give you perfect Orders.

I wish they had some means to cherish a Resistance,

That he may help to his own ruine;

He must not live to plead his innocence.

But Time, that never will be staid,

Calls us to act what we have scarcely waigh'd.

[Exeunt.

[Page]

ACT. 1. SCEN. 4.

Enter Princesse, Philena, Mironault.

Prin.

YOu're welcome now, my Lord, and I desire

No clowd may dwell on any brow;

Let no such prejudice happen amidst our sports.

Mir.

If you be not obey'd, admired Princesse,

Where you command, it is extreamly strange;

And yet, I fear, 'tis possible.

Prin.

As possible it is I may suspect my power.

But, my Lo [...]d, I had forgot to put you in remembrance

Of perfec [...] [...] storie you began,

As you [...] it, of unhappy Lovers.

Mir.

The Princesse, Madam,

Was taken by Phylanter, whose great valour,

Shewn in that day, deserv'd all Prisoners:

To whom he nobly offer'd Liberty,

Without a Ransome, or Acknowledgment

Unlesse to you. Before she thank't him,

She made enquiry for the Prince, my Prisoner;

As if she knew not how to use

Freedom nor life without him; and by reason

That he was full of wounds, Phylanter

Waited upon her to my Tent; at the first sight

Of him she so much lov'd, cover'd with wounds,

She stood amaz'd, perhaps too wish'd her self

[Page] What she appear'd, but a dead Statue.

At the same time he rais'd his feeble eyes,

Which seem'd to take unkindly her delay.

At that she came, and kneeling by him,

Made such expressions of unfeigued grief,

That though we understood not what she said,

Yet that was plain enough. He now grew speechless,

(And she almost) yet still with signes,

That seem'd expressions of more trouble.

For leaving her then all the world

Within her arms, he died; she but stayed

To be assur'd that he was dead. Then with a haste,

That shew'd a willingnesse to follow him,

She drew a Viall from her bosom,

And drank it off, before that we could hinder her;

Whose violence, on an enfeebled heart

By so much grief, with unbelieved haste,

Wrought Execution.

Prin.

Poor Princesse! 'twas her hard fate to love;

She had been else no more concern'd,

Than those that now survive.

Mir.

And she perhaps as unconcern'd to dye.

Nothing but a deserving Love

Could have taught her a way so glorious

To end all cares. She now enjoys him too,

Or else insensible that e're she lost him.

Prin.

Did that young Prince command that day the Army?

Mir.

Yes, and, as we learnt, he was the Heir

To the Tartarian Empire.

[Page]Prin.

'Tis nothing but a Prince

Could have been so unhappy to lose at once

His Love, his Life, his Empire.

[Enter hastily Hyppasus, Lysander. Hyppasus takes Mironault aside.

Hyp.

My Lord—

Mir.

Ha

Hyp.

Let not the Princesse see it:

The Castle is surrounded by a Troop of Souldiers,

Commanded by Phylanter; I fear you are their aim.

Mir.

I?

Hyp.

You may guesse the causes, Jealousie and Baseness.

Think, or you'r lost.

Mir.

Ha—'tis very happy.

Pys.

I don't understand that.

Mir.

I'le presse them nobly: Are they many?

Hyp.

They are divided, as we guesse. The gates are yet kept shut.

Pys.

I'le go view, and ins [...]antly return.

[Exit.

Mir.

The Devill on the mischief! if their aim

Be towards me, it must be for my life.

A Parly cannot save me, I am resolv'd

To sell it.

Phil.

Upon my life, Madam, there's some disorder.

View but the eyes of Mironault.

Prin.

My Lord, why are you mov'd?

Mir.

I, Madam?

Prin

Pray, Sir, let me entreat of you the cause.

Hyp.

Nothing that ought to give you trouble, Madam,

There's something that requires

The presence of my Lord without.

[Page]Prin.

If there be any that would speak with him,

They shall be here dispatcht.

Hyp.

That cannot be, Madam.

Prin.

Come, my Lord.

There's something I can guesse at (if I be not deceiv'd)

That does assure me, I may command you.

What business breeds this alteration?

Mir.

I dare not disobey you;

The Castle is surrounded by Phylanter

With Troops of Soldiers; and, as we guesse,

My life's their aim.

Prin.

The Castle surrounded! and your life their aim?

It is impossible: they dare not think it.

I will go see their rudenesse.

Mir.

Not for the world, they know that you are here:

And their intents they'l act unto their power.

Prin.

Is there a better way?

Mir.

Yes any, rather than dye tamely,

Pysa.

For heaven's sake, Sir, resolve: Phylanter's now,

Enter Pysander.

Forcing the gates, being denied entrance

For all his Souldiers, who loudly now

Call you, A Traitor. Upon one side

Which I'le conduct you to, it is most probable

You may escape—.

Prin.

Ah me!

Mir.

May I believe, (fair wonder of your Sex)

That though your cruelty designes my fate,

Yet you're displeas'd, that these should be

The Executioners? I shall then dare

[Page] To oppose all their furies, that my Life

May be Love's sacrifice alone; forgive me too,

If I dare own that Love, you frown upon.

You need not scruple to grant this—,

To any that must aske no more.

And may that peace, you give my dying thoughts,

For ever live with yours—.

Prin.

Pray say no more, think of your safety,

Mir.

See, she weeps—.

With pitty ever dwells forgivenesse too,

My wishes then are crown'd, and I can have

No greater, unlesse that it were possible,

I might hope more and live.

Prin.

O Mironault!—

So much confusion mingles with my thoughts,

I know not what to say; and yet I wish

That you might live, and cannot be displeas'd,

Though hope should be the cause.

Mir.

So Saylers in a sinking vessell,

May see a calm begin—. This treacherous world,

Never wants mischiefs to prevent

The greatest blessings that are near-approaching,

To crown man's greedy wishes.—

But I mistake, to doubt that Life

Which you have given leave I should enjoy.

Who only have the power of it. This shall witnesse,

[Draw.

How much I covet to preserve,

What you wish safety to; nor is it possible,

That I should unsuccessfull prove,

[Page] That have no other use for life but love;

[Exeunt.

Prin.

The gods protect and guide you, O Phylena,

What's to be done?

Phy.

Collect your self, dear Madam, all may be well,

Let's to a window, that o're-looks that side,

Where they intended to break forth.

Prin.

I dare not see him fall.

Phy.

Fear not Madam, Heaven will preserve.

So fair a Life, that has your prayers too.

Prin.

Hark, they are ingag'd, lets see if it be possible,

A noise of fighting.

To give him more assistance than our wishes.

[Exeunt.

ACT 1. SCEN 5.

Enter Mironault wounded,

[A noise.

Mir.

STay hasty drops, not to preserve

The life that does pursue you.

But the blest shrine, where Mirramente dwells,

See, 'tis not my wishes stayes the purple current:

Man's still most near to dye, when he would live,

And live when he would dye; calamity,

And, the more dangerous extream, prosperity

Commits this violence upon mens wishes.

Yet since the gods denied for either cause

To destroy life, or to protect;

[Page] In stead of Choice, we should oppose Neglect.

Hark, the noise increases still.

[Noise.

—sure they are lost—

They fought it nobly, though, if my ears

Deceive me not, I hear some comming.

Enter Hyppasus and Pysander.

Ha Hyppasus and Pysander!

Then I am happy in spight of all misfortunes.

Hyp.

Dear Sir, you cut your way so nobly,

We should have reach'd you sooner else.

Pys.

And so we had Sir, but two or three goodfellows

Still s [...]aid us upon conference—

Mir.

Well, here's no staying, we must forward;

But whither, Heaven knows; 'twas an unworthy action.

Pys.

For the honorable part of the story,

Wee'l, if you please, comment upon it hereafter.

In the mean time, 'tis more needfull to observe

What a condition we are in to help one another.

Hyppasus would make dainty whistles,

My bones are already rattles:

The best house of receipt I know would be an Hospitall.

A noise again—On, good Sir.

Hyp.

The most by-ways must guide us.

Mir.

Heaven direct us—

Pys.

O what a speech could I now make

Of this frail world. But however,

I'le not stay now to do it.

[Exeunt.

[Page]

ACT 1. SCEN. 6.

Enter Princesse, Philena.

Prin.

HE cannot sure escape.

Phy.

Rather believe he must, there is a better fate

Reserv'd for so much worth. Our hopes are now

The policy as well as justice of our hearts.

You know we did discern, how o're the plain

Some hasted single, and Pylander said, they were divided.

At first you saw how fast he made his way,

Triumph and Danger waiting on his Sword.

The villains too, like dull opposing clowds,

Gave way to the fair Sun; And then Phylanter

Was on the other side.

Prin.

Alas, Phylena, Fears are so powerfull,

That in concerned breasts they govern all.

Phyl.

It is our follies that enthrones them so;

And to just wishes hopes are much more due:

Use them, dear Madam—

Prin.

I need not blush, Phylena, to confesse,

(And yet I shall, whilst I am doing it)

That I have more concern for him

Than others have. VVhen you know this,

You will not judge your counsell then

So easie to be followed—

Phil.

Pardon me, Madam, if I confesse,

That I believ'd as much when I advis'd you.

[Page] I have had many reasons for such thoughts

From yours, though greater from his vertues.

Prin.

O Phylena, advise me how to do, not how to grieve.

I see I must be forc'd to a hard exigent,

To let him perish, or in his relief

To appear too concern'd, though not too just.

Phyl.

Your reason, Madam, will not have leave

To decide that; 'tis Love will be the judge

Of all his dangers. But now, Madam,

VVhat is the next thing we must act?

Or must we suffer too?

Prin.

Nay, Heaven knows; I sent one to enquire.

Now—what's the matter?

[Enter a Servant.

Ser.

They say, Madam, they came for Mironault,

Who had designes upon your Highnesse.

Prin.

And have they taken him?

Ser.

No; but we hope they will.

He has left abundance hurt and dead.

Prin.

Go, be gone you fool; you are all suspitious rascalls,

Fain would be thought State-wise.

Ser.

Madam.

Prin.

Be gone, you hoping Coxcomb.

There's something more in this, Phylena.

Phyl.

I cannot guesse, unlesse it be Phylanter's jealousie,

Urg'd by your constant favours unto Mironault.

Prin.

Its possible. Hark, a noise; we shall be more inform'd.

Enter Phylanter, and, being half enter'd, speaks

Phyl.

—Escap'd—

Now by the gods your lives shall pay for all.

[Page] You dogs and Cowards—

—Madam, I humbly crave your pardon,

My passion makes me hasly, when your Cause

Gives the just anger.

Prin.

My cause, Sir?

Phyla.

Excellent Princesse, Yours; for this foul man

That seem'd to pay his duty to you,

Bore in his breast a traiterous designe

Here to surprise you; which I hearing of,

Straight hasted to prevent it, though my fate

Was too unhappy in the losse of him.

Prin.

Ha!

Phyl.

But let—

Prin.

Dost, thou not blush, or blush for me at least,

That I have let thee injure Truth thus long▪

And wrong'd an innocence, which never dwelt

Within thy infant breast? Stay not to reply,

But leave me with your tumults.

[Exit.

Phyl.

Then I am lost; my last stroak now I'le strike,

And strike it bravely too—Despair,

Thou ha's the noblest issues of all ill,

Which frailty brings us to, for to be worse

We fear not, and who cannot lofe

Is ever a franck Gamester.

Nor will I fall alone, should he enjoy her,

I should repining dye. Envie's the vice

That never leaves us till we fall from that,

The best ompanion of a hastie fate:

I'le cherish it as others would a Vertue.

He that declines himself—

[Page] —when Chance or Fortune has declin'd him first,

He learns of those mean helpers to do worst.

[Exit.

ACT 2.

SCEN. 1.

Enter King, and Albertus.

Alb.

IT was this day, Sir, that he intended the surprise;

And, notice given my son, with such few men

As he could get in readinesse, he hasted thither.

Kin.

'Tis well; but take heed there be no foul play in't.

For Mironault has ever appear'd

A subject fit to ruine mean suspitions.

Alb.

Love, Sir, can alter all; none more than I

Did hear (and wonder, with a pittying thought)

This error of his hopefull Youth; but when I think

He is a Man, and Youth dwells in his veins,

That still pr [...]pares for Beauty and Ambition,

The easie heart. Then look upon the Princesse,

And see in her the pain and pride of Nature,

Her fresh unsullied beauty, that would tempt

The gods to gaze and love; I could almost forgive—

—but must believe.

[Page]Kin.

Ha!

Alb.

To add unto the power of Love, and alf those joyes

Her heavenly beauty brings a Kingdom too:

Crowns the ambition of his high-fed youth,

That makes all dangers lesse, from whose high top

They see it lessen'd in the common vale, and onely fit

To tame the spirits of the meaner minds.

—he that dares do,

Will act what his ambition tempts him to.

Kin.

I know not; I would see just to all, and would be safe;

And Injuries are as unpleasing to me as Injustice,

I would not bear the one, or act the other.

When malice spreads a rancour in the breast,

That needs a policy to bear it forth,

The minds of Kings most think to fit with jealousie,

As ever apt for that; believing still,

That all such fears dwells with their height of glory.

Take heed, my Lord, that this so loose opinion

Leads not your tongue, and casts that brand on me.

I believe well of all. On farther proof

I shall think best of you.

Alb.

Would I were well off.

[aside.

We have not yet (Great Sir) so little left

Of kindness to our selves, to play with Thunder;

Nor yet so mean—

A thought of you, to let you live in danger.

Heaven knows all the ambition that now rules our thoughts;

[Page] And all we hope for that should crown our wishes,

Is to appear loyall to you, we are as free,

(Whilst you are so from danger), as a young Lamb

From hate or malice.

King.

Nay my Lord, you do mistake, if you believe

You suffer in my thoughts, I am prepar'd

Still to reward your care, equally so

To punish or preserve his crime, or innocence.

When Kings do fall from this, and let each wind

Conduct them with its giddinesse;

Their Kingdoms at the last, must suffer ship-wrack.

Perhaps your innocence, may once as well

Suffer unheard, from some malitious tongue:

I never yet harbour'd an ill opinion,

Rais'd from suspition, or a meaner thought

From others envy, nor yet forget

To cherish those, whose loyalties are greatest.

Justice is still impartiall, and all Kings,

Should only hold her scales: he that strives

To weigh down one with power, is unjust

To that Great King, that put him first in trust;

Alber.

I'me lost—

[aside.

King.

But my Lord; we give you thanks now for your early care,

We would have none discourag'd, to be loyall,

'Tis that which will adorn you here,

And help you to Eternity hereafter,

Whilst men are just, pleasing rewards will live

Within their breasts; greater then I can give.

[Exit.

[Page]Alber.

Hee's gone.—

—I would his honesty were too,

That sits upon him like so fit a garment,

The workman's paid, to have the credit of it.

Hee'l help the gods to many cu [...]omers.

How now!

[Enter a messenger.

Mes.

My Lord;—

Alber.

From whence comest thou,—Ha,—

What newes? my mind mis-gives.—

Mes.

From your Son.

Alber.

Why, what's the newes?

Mes.

But ill,—when that your son

Had round beset the Castle, and all thought sure,

The gallant Mironault, in his fearlesse mind

Weighing the bonds of death, and of an enemy,

In perfect scales; the first appear'd the lightest,

And through one Port, bravely with his two friends,

Issued like Lightning which foretells a Clap,

And Thunder follow'd too: whilst in despight

Of their resistance, through their lives

He forc'd his way and safety.—

Alb.

And so escap't?

Mes.

Yes, but they are still pursuing; the Princesse too,

When that your son appear'd, as if her eyes

Had borrow'd, rage from the afrighting danger,

That Mironault was in; upon her brow

Inthron'd it with revenge, and so with threats,

Left him unto his fears, who by me

Desires you to retire straight from Court,

Whither the Princesse now directs her haste,

[Page] And march with all your forces; no other way

Is left to make Conditions. In the mean time,

He's still pursuing Mironault.

Alb.

'Tis unhappy.

Mess.

Necessity has left no other means:

Without this, he bids me tell you,

You may dye tamely.

Alb.

Well, I must go; it is the fate of guilty men,

That such should seek at safety through more crimes.

Men are unhappy when they know not how

To value Peace without its losse;

And from the want learn how to use,

What they could so ill manage when enjoy'd.

Ambition gives this blindnesse, yet permits

The eyes to gaze upon her tempting baits;

But in attempting, not what dangers are,

They see the Throne, and not the blazing Star.

Thus foolish his ungovern'd youth

Has made us both alike,

Who, rather than to share a common good,

Ventur'd through danger at uncertain glory:

Nor could my power or prayers perswade him from it.

With such a grief the Ruler of the day

Shook his illustrious tresses, when he heard

The ambitious Phaeton make his bold Request,

—who did prefer—

Before the counsell of the god himself,

The long'd-for glories of his glittering Throne.

Yet Phoebus mourn'd, the bonds of Nature tye

Faster then our own good or honesty.

[Exit.

[Page]

ACT 2. SCEN. 2.

Enter Princess, Phylena.

Prin.

THat I had wings, Phylena; this revenge

Justice it self will follow.

Phyl.

Pray heaven, Madam, no designer

Has been before us.

Prin.

It is my fear.

Phyl.

But yet,

You may be confident of your father's temper,

Which does dispence Justice with deliberation

Besides your interest.

Prin.

Would we could learn what were become of him.

They still pursue him, sure; and heaven preserve

His noble life from an untimely fate.

How the State-rascalls too were pleased

VVith the suspition of a trecherous danger;

And grew as busie as a new wak't Fly,

At the first news of Summer.

Phyl.

There is a basenesse runs through all their veins,

And ranckles in their bloods, which to their children

Descends; a loath'd Inheritance.

Prin.

But who are these?

Enter Amione and Follower.

Phyl.

A very handsom person.

Prin.

Extreamly fair, I swear; she bends this way.

Amio.

Excellent Princesse—

[she kneels.

Pardon the rude griefs of a distressed Maid,

[Page] That throws her at your feet; for your clear eyes

(VVhich sends a comfort upon pleased beholders)

To see and pitty; you, that nature gave

Perfections above all; 'tis you alone

VVe must believe excells in goodnesse too.

Nothing that's ill can have so fair a dwelling.

You shall have still a Virgin's prayer,

That yours may ne're successlesse fly

To those above, that those fair blossoms

Never have cares for to disturb their calmnesse,

Or force a wrincle on those snowy plains;

But may the beauty of a peace within,

Preserve and equall those your outward lustres.

Prin.

Rise, pretty Maid, you should have ask'd and tri'd,

VVhether at first I had been worth these prayers.

She must be very good that does deserve 'em▪

See, Phylena, flowers, I swear,

she rises weeping

Receive not so much sweetnesse from fresh drops,

As she from those. Her grief adds to her sweetnesse.

VVhat is it, gentle Maid, you would desire?

Promise your self, if I can help you in't.

Amio.

The gods reward you. Let me but blush,

And I will say, the act may too; he is too near

That I should tell you more. And yet, me-thinks,

He does deserve as much as I can say;

And his cause named to my poor heart,

Seems eloquence enough to move a pitty.

Pardon my disturbed passions.

[Page]Prin.

Nay, fairest Maid—

You injure me and your own hopes together,

To keep me in suspence: I would as willingly

Yield you my aid, as you could haste to ask it,

For the ble [...] subject of your fair opinion.

Amio.

I do not doubt your goodnesse; pardon the throng

Of all my tedious griefs. Know then,

You best of Princesses, for sure his name

Has reach'd your ears, the unhappy Mironault,

That much deserv'd to live, is like to fall

By bloody and unworthy hands.

Prin.

O Phylena! I'me lost.

[aside.

In that beauty is all my comfort buried.

Phyl.

Madam, what do you mean?

Madam, for heaven's sake; why, Madam?

Prin.

I prethee let me go, thou art too cruell.

I shall enjoy peace undisturb'd hereafter.

Phyl.

But hear her out, and do but search the truth,

Then I will let you die. I would not for the world

Any should guesse the cause.

Prin.

Alas!

Phyl.

Why, if they do, they cann't condemn the grief.

Prin.

O Phylena, when Love has entred in the outward Forts,

Yet there is still a small reserve of Reason,

Which Love laughs at, rather than thinks it worth

His rage or storming; for he knows it must

Perish and starve, when the relief

Of all the nobler Faculties are kept out

[Page] By the insulting Conqueror, who contemns

All the attempts I fain would make against him.

Amio.

I see I am decreed to all misfortunes,

she speaks as no minded.

That I should now disturb you too, who, heaven knows,

I willingly would please. Why do you turn

Away your head? How often have I heard

His prayers sent to heaven for your joys,

That now denies to look upon his woes?

I'le kneel again, for in such a cause

It were impiety to rise successelesse.

Nothing but Seas and Winds are deaf to prayers,

And Beasts to mercy; who would expect

A hidden form in undisturbed skies?

Or in that clearer breast a cruelty?

If you deny, I'le grow a fixed Monument,

Still to upbraid your rigour.

Prin.

O Phylena, why do you let me languish?

In her beauty dwells an undoing lustre.

Phyl.

What mean you, Madam? can you believe

The world can shew a subject for your jealousie?

Amio.

I see I grow a trouble, I durst have sworn

You had been more charitable. How often have I heard

The now unpittied Mironault affirm,

You were the treasure of this world's perfections;

And wondred any thing but your fair self

Should know what joys were. Perhaps you too

Believe as much, or else you could not think

[Page] All his unpittied miscries are just. Had Nature

Given you a Brother, and your early loves

Blest undisturb'd from Nature's fruitfull Cradle,

You would have begg'd—as now—

His hopelesse sister does.

But sure I should have pittied more.

And yet perhaps our interests makes us partiall:

Yes I could wish I had your power to try.

Phyl.

Now, Madam—

Prin.

Forgive me, gentle Maid; it was the power

Of thy told griefs that seiz'd my faculties,

And left me able to do nought but grieve.

Forgive the time I lost to share with thee:

You may forgive the injuries of kindnesse.

And though my self were witnesse to the action

Thy griefs made it a new afflicting story.

Each storm renews in Merchants minds

The story of the shipwrack. Nor do I blush

To avow this, since I must not lose

The justnesse of my breast, that does believe

His innocence above suspition.

Amio.

May heaven inspire you to wish well,

And grant your wishes too, you might have then,

Perhaps, a joy as great as he would have,

Did he but know you pitty him.

Prin.

In the performance then of what I say,

He will have more; which I so much wish him

That you shall witnesse all pursued with haste.

Nor shall you be a stranger longer to me.

Yet I shall blush, although I give you leave

[Page] To see the partiality: but more time

Now spent in grass or leaves, would be his injury.

And we may ruine, what we would relieve,

Should we without attempting succour grieve.

[Exeunt.

ACT 2. SCEN. 3.

Enter Mironault, Hyppasus, Pysenor.

Pys.

WOuld I were a Dog, and could lick my self whole.

I shall be as fly-blown, as a ruine cheese,

How i'st Hyppasus!

Hyp.

But scurvy, would we might rest.

Miro.

O me;

'Tis an unhappinesse, that I should bring

You into these misfortunes, you have deserved

Better of me, and yet you may forgive me,

I would have shared as much with you.

Hyp.

We would not make such an excuse then, Sir.

Miro.

You chide me nobly, I find, I need some rest.

And yet by all those powers, that caused these mischiefs,

My life shall end them, e're I'le be his prisoner.

Pys.

Nay, wee'l all dye; I hope 'tis no offence

To talk of saving our sweet lives;

[Page] In order to that, this next fair house

Must be our Garrison, 'tis ten to one,

But there we find some three or four brown loaves,

To victuall us for a day; perhaps a sample

Of good seed-Corn, lies in the parlour Cubbard;

We shall eat moderately, come we must advance

And storm it.

Hyp.

You have no other way Sir, we are so weak,

There is no refuge else, and we are still

Hotly pursued, if they intend our mischiefs,

VVe may hold out against that petty number▪

If they raise more, we too shall have relief

By the Princesse, or your friends; if not,

VVe may make some Conditions.—

Miro.

A wretched shift, and yet it may preserve us,

But let us use it nobly: Heaven guide us.

Pys.

I'le advance, and knock: Within there▪

Ho!

[knock.

He struck so hard, the bason broke,—

Enter Peter.

Ho! what a Tarquin's here,

Pet.

VVho have we here?

Pys.

Two or three strangers that have lost their way.

Pet.

And you would be directed.

Pys.

Pox on your nimble Charity;

[Aside.

We have been sett upon by thieves, and hurt,

And must desire some small refreshment.

Pet.

Why, this 'tis; The age is grown so perfect now,

That all fall's in the way of Begging,

And by the word Refreshment.

[Page]Pys.

Nay, Sir, none of your moralities on the age,

Help us to the speech of the Master,

Or Mistris of the house, It must be so, Sir;

Pet.

Here's neither.

Pys.

What the Devil i'st.

Pet.

A Lady.

Pys.

Plague on your formall Coxcomb.

Lets see your Lady then,

Pet.

That's more then shee'l do you.

Pys.

By this light, but she shall.

Pet.

Had she sworn so, she had been for-sworn;

Pys.

Sir, we would willingly be Civill,

Pray let's receive your Ladie's answer,

But no more of yours:

Pet.

You shall have it.—

[Exit.

Pys.

This Rogue has bagg pipes in his Lungs.

A meer Land-Remora, we wanted but the plague

To have heard his pedigree;

He had learn't the policy of the old Roman,

To ruine by delayes; we might have fainted

Under his wise Cunc-tator-ship.

Hyp.

'Twas a rare Scene, be sure, Pysenor,

You shall have none of the best drink.

Miro.

VVhen she comes, you shall be chief,

And we your humble servants.

Pys.

And I'le be insolent enough: now Sir,

For such a Bird as the Princesse.

Miro.

Nay Pysenor.—

Pys.

Hang it, this love, 'twill make your wounds ranckle.

[Page] There's nothing like a merry plaister.

Hark, I hear them rusling,

Enter Caeca, Ruinever, and Peter.

Mercy on us, what have we here,

December, with the too scurvy months at her heels?

She ha's dig'd up all her ancestors;

And wrap't their winding sheets about her,

I'le advance.

Caeca.

VVhere stands he, Peter▪

Peter.

Straight on; now must not I proceed

For fear I should discover, she were blind.

Pys.

VVhither a divell will she march

She goes straight on.

Hippasus, lie down in the way,

Hyp.

And be hanged, put on your serious face,

Pys.

Save you sweet Reverence.

Caeca.

Are you the Gentleman? Peter, is this he?

Pet.

Yes, forsooth.

Pys.

Slight, shee'd have her man make affidavit of it,

[aside.

VVe are those Madam, that would fain obtain

Some pitty in your eyes,—why,—shee's blind,

[aside.

Blind, as an old Do-Cunny.—

VVe want a Charity, and we hope

That your grave years, ha's taught you that fair story,

Caeca.

From whence come you?

Pys.

VVe are Gentlemen, and have been hurrby thieves.

You need not fear to help our hard misfortunes,

Our weak Conditions cannot threaten danger,

You may believe, we would deserve your kindnesse,

[Page] And our lives, which if you preserve,

Shall wait upon your beauty.

Hyp.

What a dissembling tongue the rogue has,

[aside.

Pys.

We went as long, as we could gain a leave

From weaknesse, as unwilling—

To be a burthen to any, but our fates

Threw us on you, for which we dare not chide them.

Hyp.

This rogue would court a bitch—

[aside.

Pys.

Sirrah, I'le fit you.—

Caeca.

A fine well-spoken gentleman.

Pys.

For if we did, we should be too unjust

For you must needs be good, because the gods

Let you so long live to instruct the world,

—Or else afraid of your blind company—

[aside.

But at your feet—

We throw our selves and all our miseries,

And cancell fear, whilst we exp [...]ct to hear

Our doom from your fair lips.

Caeca.

Quinever.

Quin.

Madam.

Caeca.

I'st a handsome man?

Quin.

Yes indeed, as e're I saw.

Caeca.

I feel just such a Qualm, as I had

When I was still falling in love, he has a sweet tongue.

Noble gentleman, you're very welcome;

You shall have all you want, pray come neer:

Indeed, I am much taken with your speech,

'Tis very curteous, once in my youth

[Page] I understood these complements,

And have not yet forgot them;

I shall remember them more fresh

If you repeat them.

Pys.

Why so, I shall be engaged to tell tales

[aside

In the chimney-corner.

Caec.

Peter, Go in, get the best chambers ready;

Let them have something presently to eat.

Pray come [...]n, you'r very welcom.

Your hand, good Sir.

Pys.

We are your servants. Now do I walk

Like the great Turk, that newly has put out

The eyes of an old kinswoman. Here we shall find

Good Fortune sure, for that whore too is blind.

[Exeunt.

ACT. 2. SCEN. 4.

Enter King solus.

Kin.

HOw much unknown is reall happinesse?

And all are cheated with the name of thing?

Or we are all deceiv'd, or else the joy

Grows poor by the enjoyment; to me

A Crown's a glorious misery,

Suspition waits on all our appetites,

And sleep not pleases but affrights.

Kings have hard ways for to preserve a Crown,

[Page] To give to others fears, and hide their own.

The way's but narrow between frowns and smiles,

To avoid both Contempt and Tyranny.

For either is a Rock to split upon

This glorious and frail Bark of Majesty;

When-People do not ask, and yet Kings give,

Content and safety with them both may live.

But when they venture to reform the State,

Princes must suffer then

By their own fears, or by their people's hate.

They hide still what they mean in a redresse,

And know ill acts are buried with successe.

Seek peace in storms, and in disorder safety,

—Till in a Chaos they have felt

Constraint and Freedom undistinguisht dwelt.

Their first fond way to reach at Liberty

Is, to assault those they believe too high.

And had the gods not Thunder, sure there are

That would attempt—

—to light a Candle at a Star.

But Kings, like Suns, that at some time must pay

Their lustres in another Sphear, must leave

Stars fitted with influence to direct this night.

—Yet, like the Queen of Night, to know,

That to his beams their lustre they do owe.

O Symathocles, you'r welcom; Did you dispatch

Enter Symathocles.

What I directed you?

Sym,

I did, Sir; and the Troops were marching,

But the arrivall of the Princesse prevented.

[Page]Kin

Is she come, then?

Sym.

But now arrived, Sir.

Kin.

'Tis well, Symathocles.

You have heard sure of the late accident:

'Tis odd; What think you?

Sym.

'Tis hard to guesse, Sir, easier far to doubt.

The Princesse must inform us all.

Kin.

I have suspended too my thoughts in this.

Haste is an ill companion still to Justice.

And whilst we hear at distance things unprov'd,

The story of their lives prevails still most,

That has been fair in Mironault. Yet our frailty

Guides us to unsuspected acts, so may the best of men

Fall to the least suspected crimes; that weaknesse

Crows with our years, and alteration [...]s still

By Nature nur [...].

Sym.

You have weighed, great Sir,

Things in so just and serious a scale,

That whilst thus evenly you preserve your mind,

You'l need no other Oracle; mean hasty fears

Still tyranny begets, non can deserve

Their safety, that attempt it that way

That poorly tells the world, he fears the reach

Of common hands; none but the Eagles gaze

Upon the Sun, unlesse it shrinck in clowds.

Nor do the common eyes attempt your glories,

Till shrouded in your fears. He's still most safe

That tells the world, He cannot be in danger,

For they'l believe it then, and 'tis most just,

If they will borrow fears, that he should trust.

[Page] Justice will then be ripe, when every thought

Takes its slow birth neither from fear nor passion.

And 'twill be fruit worthy a King to bear,

And bless the appetites of them that gather.

Kin.

You have hit my thoughts; See,

Enter Princess, Pylora, Followers.

Here comes more Information.

I'le see if she'l begin.

—Rise, you are welcom.

[Prin. kneels.

Prin.

I must not, Sir, till I receive

—more then a common Blessing—

Your Justice is enough to case my fears.

Yet pardon me, if so much of Woman rules me,

To tell you all I suffer'd.

Kin.

What mean you?

Prin.

Great Sir, you might believe indeed

I should be undisturb'd, where you procure

Peace from your carefull thoughts. And sure it was

The child of Insolence and high Contempt

That curst attempt the ruden [...]sse.

Kin.

It was so, but to the matter.

Prin.

When at my journey's end I was arrived,

Thither came Mironault in his own language

To pay a duty which he owed your child;

Where being scarcely rested, and resolved

With the next rising Sun to seek our sport,

But word was brought, the Castle was surrounded

By Soldiers, commanded by Phylanter;

Their businesse was for Mironault, w [...]o they said

Went to surprise me there, who onely came

With two brave friends, and I dare swear with thoughts

[Page] As innocent as Infants; when he heard

The Castle was be-set, seriously weighing

Not Justice sought his life but Treachery,

Disdain'd to fall upon so mean a score.

As an ungovern'd Torrent issues forth,

Bearing down all before it, and in the action

Finds its unknown power, when its streams

Are with a stop resisted, o're-whelming

What was believ'd beyond its power before.

So from resistance his disdaining rage

Atchiev'd a victory, which his thoughts

Would ne're have hop'd nor aim'd at; still Philanter's rage

Pursues his noble life. This is enough

Whilst you are just, nor need I to repeat

The injury to me.

Kin.

But they perhaps

Might have a secret message of the intent

Of Mironault, you would be loath I see

To have one testifie as much.

Prin.

You cannot find one so extreamly bad,

So far from being to himself a friend;

His story in the world has nobler truths,

Than to be fouled by any base accuser.

If all were true, it is your justice sure,

And not their furie, that should punish.

Kin.

For farther satisfaction of you; Who waits there?

Go call the Lord Albertus hither.

[Exit Messenger.

Prin.

In this petition too, Sir, oyns with me

This Maid, who from one womb

With the unhappy Mironault took her birth:

[Page] You will have many knees as he has hearts;

And yet none needs to beg, for you are just:

Yet you must pardon those loves that mix with fears.

We oftner then we need wipe pretious Jewells.

His value makes us foolish.

Kin.

He is beholding to you—

How now—

Enter Messenger.

Mess.

The Lord Albertus, Sir, is fled

As soon as he came from your Majesty,

He instantly took Horse.

Kin.

He was in haste—Symathocles—

Sym.

Sir.

Kin.

Gather the Forces in a readinesse

That were to meet my daughter, then wait

For further Orders.

Sym.

I shall, Sir.

[Exit Syma.

Kin.

Your pardon, fair Maid, that I seem'd so to forget you;

It onely was my care, you shall have justice

And should have had without an Advocate,

Your beauty though's a great one.

Amio.

The gods preserve your Majesty, with your years

May peace still grow, that give it unto others,

Till you shall go to have eternall rest.

Kin.

Thanks, gentle Maid, the rich Arabian Fumes

Are not so sweet to the delighted gods,

As thy calm prayers from thy harmlesse breast.

Come hither, Mirramente, I have not been

At leisure yet to bid thee kindly welcom.

Prin.

Pardon me, Sir, that I must once again

[Page] Trouble your ears, nor think too lightly, Sir,

Of my request, it is the child of gratitude.

I would in person, Sir, relieve

Him, that has suffer'd for my sake,

And in my sight contemn'd.

Kin.

Symathocles, would you not take it ill

To have a Generall put o're your head?

Sym.

Not, if it may serve you, Sir.

Kin.

Look here, Symathocles, this Amazon has begg'd it.

Sym.

She does the better, Sir, if there be danger

From her fair name we all shall fight in safety.

Kin.

Well, take your course, on more intelligence

Move as you please.

[Exit King.

Sym.

Excellent Princesse,

—How happy I am now to be your Soldier,

Let those be judge that would be sure of victory.

So fair a Cause fought by so fair a Generall,

—Can never be forsaken

By Victory or Fortune—

Prin.

I thank you, Sir, nor can I think my self

Lesse happy in so brave a Soldier; if you please

For to dispatch before for some intelligence,

Wee'l instantly away.

Sym.

With all speed, Madam.

[Exit Syma.

Manent Princess & Amione.

Amio.

Excellent Princesse;

Which way to tell you all my heart returns

I know not, the gods in blessings thank you,

Who still assist the innocent and mean,

[Page] Because they made them so;

Prin.

I thank you gentle Maid, from hence my friend,

You cannot cheat my confidence, you'l deserve it,

So does your Brother all my best assistance,

I reckon it my happinesse, to procure

Your joyes and safety; that I may then

Have mine more perfect.

Amio.

Now all the powers defend, they should not be:

You never sure broke yet an houres repose

With a dis [...]urbing dream; in that calme harbour,

All thoughts have been secur'd from storm,

May they be ever so.—

Prin.

Thy brother's cause deserves as much as that.

—A thousand blushes stop me,—

[aside.

Besides thou mayest be much deceived: the ship-wrack past,

The calmest waters may conceal the fate,

As well as the insulting waves,

Amione weeps.

—Why do [...]st thou weep.—

Amio.

To hear, you have been sad, O Madam,

[...]ardon me, to say an undiscerned power

Ioynes my affliction to your grief;

Forgive me that, I cannot chuse but dare,

To accompany you in any thing.

There's something tells me, that I ought to love you

More then the world does, yet that's very much.

Prin.

When I first saw thee, dearest maid,

I could have sworn as much,

And yet thou didst not please me then,

Come, I shall disturb thee, 'tis an unkindnesse

[Page] Not to be pardon'd, to let thee share my griefs;

Amio.

Now you afflict me more: Is there a way,

To be a friend and stranger to your breast,

Though 'tis ambition, to be an humble one?

'Tis vertue, not your greatnesse crowns my wishes,

And I shall fear, that you will think me only

A friend to that, or else not worth the other.

Prin.

I do not doubt thy Love, the story will

Disturb me, when I tell it, perhaps thee,

And yet it must return to me unhelpt.

Amio.

How do you know? the meanest thing in nature,

May bring an unexpected aid; Gyants that passe,

And lets the obstacles alone, do lesse

Then dwarfs that do remove them: as they are

Shut in your breast, fed with that pretious food,

How can they ever starve? they may at last

Consume your stock of joyes, he does like you,

That would defend, within a fair built Fort,

His enemies against his pressing friends

And patiently destroyed by those he saved,

If you believe me worthy, the gods have then

Finish't their parts; for they decreed us most

To one anothers aid: So to encrease

Our joyes that way, and lessen all our cares,

For still imparted comforts do increase,

And grief divided to a friend grows lesse,

Our natures too are like o'rec [...]arged springs,

Willing to vent themselves, and so are you,

Had I but as much worth, as you have trouble.

Prin.

I am not proof against thy perfect kindnesse,

[Page] I will keep nothing from thee, but be sure

You quickly understand me, my blushes too

Will tell t [...]ee half the storie, what dos't guesse?

Amio.

That you should have no cares—

Prin.

Can love have any?

Amio.

What in this world shall ever be so happy?

I hope it is not that—

Prin.

And why?

Amio.

A thousand times I have heard my brother pray

That day might never be, I wish as he does too.

Prin.

Your Brother would not have me then?

—How innocent she is!—

[aside.

Amio.

He thinks it were unreasonable

That one alone should make the world unhappy.

Weighing their own misfortunes from his joy's

I hope it is not that:

Prin.

'Tis that I swear. Love has caused all my trouble,

And if thy brother thinks me such a blessing

Why doth not he then wish it?

Amio.

Alas he dares not welcome such a thought

He onely dares to wish none else should have you;

But who must be so happy?

Prin.

Your Brother.

Amio.

Madam?

Prin.

Wonder no more, I could have told

When I first saw thee that me-thought I lov'd thee

As I would do a sister; yet I was jealous too:

Nay I shall blush, as much as thou canst wonder,

Yet he deserves my Love; sure you did then

[Page] Read a confusion in me; and I am still,

Disorderd by my fears;

Amio.

O Madam,—

—Pardon me to say the gods have justly so

Decreed that it should be: for I have heard

Him sit and please himself with stories of you,

Till he has made his griefs too monstrous,

And I thought then too prodigall of comfort,

Yet now I think't was all but due to you;

And though I am turnd of his religion too

And can think nothing superstition in't,

Yet you may spare the sacrifice.

Prin.

Sweetest maid,

I have some reason to believe he loves me,

He cannot sure dissemble; Wert thou ne're yet in love?

Amio.

Never;

Prin.

Pray that thou never mayst, or that it ne're

Have fears for it's Companions, night will wear

Disturbing blacknesse and not quiet shades,

The light will be too cheerfull, whilst you fare

Like an impatient Sea-man that would fain

Attain the Port, the gentlest calm

Makes mad, and crossing storms disturbs

But from our own experience thus we raise

Advices that are chid and and scorn'd by Fate

Who oftnest sends what we least wish, and makes

What we most covet most unfortunate:

But now to his relief, for time

Persues his course with an impartiall haste

And my revenge must sit upon his wings.

[Page] You Powers above what now is just assist:

Their thoughts were poor, that trifled time and wisht.

[Exeunt.

ACT. 3.

SCEN. 1.

Enter Mironault Solus.

Mir [...].

TO be still subject to calamities,

We all must bear: yet not esteem it hard

Our frailty sets this odds from higher powers,

And their dis-orders are appeas'd by ours,

It is a hard injunction of the gods

To set our natures and our selves at odds

When they afflict though due unto our crimes,

Yet they give to the nature that repines

Though if we use it well, none but they give

That blessing, that we are displeas'd to live

'Twas life first cousned man, and did entice

By knowledge its fair gift to cheat him twice;

Man was a happy stranger to himself,

When he believ'd his ignorance his wealth;

Did these Extreams our knowledge ne're employ

VVe should have lesse of cares, though less [...] of joy,

For in the mind, they never gain a height

From their own natures but each others weight;

Thus truly man has either more or lesse,

From what he had, not what he does possesse.

[Page] As if the god's would give us nothing here

VVorthy of our affections, but our fear,

For should we fall from happinesse the store

Makes us more wretched of those joy's before.

Such a disease is life we hold so dear,

Health's in the other world, our Physick here;

—O—Hypposus—what's to be done

Enter Hyppasus.

Fortune has strangely jaded us—

Hyp.

Heaven knows: I am confident we are persued,

The house is strong, had we but any men

VVe might resist their numbers, and by that time

They have supplies, we may have too relief.

Miro.

Where's Pysander?

Hyp.

Shifting from the old blind Lady, who follows him

As if he were her dog and led her,

And as the devil would hav'it, her reverend blindness

Is at a venter [...]am in love

Miro.

We must resolve of some thing, and whats most hard

In ignorance, and without any aid: so may a ship,

With wounds in pieces torn, expect as well

To sail or fight;—

—And yet me thinks there might be made

Some use of this Pysander's fooling.

Hyp.

By the Masse it's true, she has Tenants

That were obliged, without all doubt to assist her

In the holy War; they live here till they dye

Of the infection of old age; see Sir,

Where Pysander comes marching with her maid.

Enter Pysander Quinever.

[Page]Mir.

Let's conceal our selves a little, and observe.

Pys.

Nay, by this light I'le ne're lye for the matter.

If thou hast no faith [...]hou'lt be damn'd.

Quin.

Say you so, Sir?

Pys.

How couldst thou chuse but guesse it? didst thou e're know

A dunghill without a Cock upon't. Meer sympathy

Guides me to love thee, dost thou not find

Some such kind of thing for me?

Quin.

Indeed I have a grudging towards you.

Pys.

The devill take up the quarrell.

[aside.

Nay 'tis grown to that I dream on thee,

Me-thought last night I rode a Flanders Mare,

And every night I dream of a fresh Beast,

And then I think on thee.

Hyp.

What means the Rogue?

Mir.

Peace, on my life he has some farther purpose.

Hyp.

Lord how she I wells, hold a stick of fire to her

And she'l pisse.

Pys.

But since I love you so, you must assist me

In what I told you, for I should be loath

Now to be taken from thee; and I know

The rascalls will attempt the house for me.

This can be brought about no other way,

But by report that I should marry

Thy Lady, for then all her Tenants

Will be the willinger to assist me.

But all this while thou shalt be dear Lindabrides,

Thou shalt rule and govern; and for thy comfort

Above pragmaticall Peter; and, by this hand,

[Page] If he at all crosse us in this designe,

I'le hang a thousand crackers at his britch,

Then throw him off from some high Tower,

In a high wind, hung between bladders;

And all this for thy love.

Quin.

And will you still be constant?

Pys.

As a Bell, still in one Tune:

And that we may be suddain, and I safe

To follow our Amours, perswade thy Lady

And instantly conduct her this way.

Quin.

I'le take my leave first—

[she kisses him.

[Exit Quin.

Pys.

Slid, her lips are lin'd with Cosier's wax,

She kiss'd me in a full Career.

Sure she has hoarded up a store of onyons

In her dry chaps, to butter against winter.

The Devill's troubled but with one Dam, I have two

—And there's a formall Weathercock,

They look which way the wind sits by him,

That from deliberation fetches wisdom;

And when he gapes at bed-time, 'tis a clinch

For my blind Mistresse now, whose chaps are mew'd

Of all their teeth, which yet she hopes again

Will spring like a fell'd Copice, and from the gums

New sprouts shoot up, she's almost deaf,

Would she were dumb too, for her tongue's oblig'd

To supply other organs, and tells us all

Her life, perhaps the History

Of twenty years a time—This thing

Must I make love to, with brevity and ease.

[Page] I'le go through all the scenes of Courtship with her,

She shall have Serenades on an old Jews-trump,

That was Pirk-abboths, an emblem of antiquity,

And all my little Oaths shall be

By Cupid's Eye and hers, the Devill's in't

If I am then forsworn—O how now,

Mironault and Hippasus appear.

What are you bolted? Come Gentlemen,

What's to be done? Hyppasus, thou wert wont

To be nimble at sudden chances.

Hyp.

How insolent the Rogue is? now he thinks

We know not his design.

Mir.

Nay, Pysander, we referr'd all to you,

We onely are your poor friends.

Pys.

Well, a Mathematician would not have breath enough

To tell the kindnesse of my Starrs—

Mir.

But for this rare fortune—

Pys.

Why my old vessell is sailing this way,

When she appears, stand close

And you shall hear it.

Mir.

Come I conceive, and did over-hear

Some of your policy, and believ't

There is no other way to save us now.

If we can get but men, 'tis but throwing

A work up in two places, the other parts

Are strong enough.

Pys.

That shall be my care too, but when you see

The old Beldam comming, be sure you vanish.

[Page]Mir.

We must be quick, our time has straitned us.

As soon as they can have intelligence

They will be here.

Pys.

What if we could send away to Court?

Mir.

I'le rather perish than believe I can

Be worth her care.

Pys.

VVhy thanks then to Pysander

That believes himself—

VVorthy his own—

Hyp.

VVould her Ladiship were come.

Prethee Pysander let's have no time delay'd

In asking how she does, and what's a clock.

Pys.

Thou hast reason to be more confident of my wit.

—See where they come—

Enter Caeca and Quinever.

And like the Graces leading one another.

Let's over-hear a little.

Caec.

Indeed he is a proper Gentleman,

And 'tis great pitty he should suffer.

Quin.

It is indeed, I would not for my Maidenhead

It should be in your house.

Pys.

Nor I by this light.

[aside.

Caec.

I think as much; indeed he speaks as well

As any that I knew these six King's Reigns:

VVhere is he, Quinever?

Quin.

He said he would be hereabouts.

Hyp.

Now Pysander uncouple them.

Pys.

So I may be hunted, but I'le advance.

—Save your sweet Ladiship—

I took the boldnesse, urged by my love,

To trouble your kind ears with a petition.

[Page]Caec.

You'r very welcome, I shall be glad to hear it;

And though I am old, and people think decay'd,

I can tell how to judge a worthy Gentleman.

Hey ho, in my time I have heard many complements,

And blest was he could gain but a good look.

Pys.

He shall be damn'd now that does.

[aside.

Caec.

The world and I am alter'd.

Pys.

A Carthusian swear the world is,

—I'le swear for thee.

Caec.

And yet I have warm blood now in my veins,

And it will beat sometimes: I have heard men say,

That age has vigour lies within.

Pys.

She'l tell me by and by she can fart fire.

[aside

Caec.

And so indeed—

Pys.

I must interrupt her; But you forget

To hear what your poor servant asks.

Caec.

I pray what is't?

Pys.

First I must beg you, that you'l have the confidence

To believe, I love you; old Lutes

Still sound the sweetest; many a man

Has travailed many miles, and tedious wayes,

To see a lesser monument, and since I love you,

I would preserve my happinesse, sure you ought then

To return equall kindnesse.

Caeca.

By my troth, but justice, and indeed, I will,

I shall not be so cruell to grieve you long

So worthy a kind gentleman; I esteem

A tedious coynesse vice, you put me in mind

Of my old principles, in my Grand-mother's time.

Pys.

That's according to a new account,

[Page] Three hundred years before the world begun.

[aside.

Caeca.

And as I was saying in her time

Matters were quickly ended, I am still

Of the old fashion.

Pys.

In short, then, since you see I love you,

I must beg your assistance; for these rogues

That hurt us, as I hear, are now hard by.

Your Tenants, and a few servants would with ease

Defend us from these wanderers, that I may

Enjoy my happinesse with safety. This your Commands

With ease may finish, and I blesse

The fate that brought me hither.

Caeca.

I pray your selfe command them,

You shall have full power, that in time

Must be my husband.

Pys.

Plague on your nimblenesse, how she mumps,—

[aside.

Caeca.

When my last husband Sir Percivall died,

I little thought to have had another suiter;

But you men have the power to winn us,

And I can tell you, such a tempting Gentleman.

Pys.

For ought she knows, a Sign-post

With Friar Bacon's brazen head upon't,—

[aside.

—If you please Madam, I will attend you,

When your Commands have setled us in safety,

I shall presume to tell you my Love's story.

Caeca.

I shall be glad to hear it, pray lead on,

What you Command, shall be a law.—

[Exeunt.

[Page]Manent, Mironault & Hyppasus.

Mir.

Yet Hyppasus, we breathe; and safety now

Begins to wear an easie shape.

Hyp.

The rogue has work't them finely.—

Mir.

By Heaven, he is the best composed man,

I e're yet knew, for in the worst extreams,

His cheerfulnesse, and judgment is the same;

We are prepared; if they find us now,

Phylanter's bold to bring them on to action,

Fortune but guide, an equall sword to mine,

And borrow frowns from all the destinies

To hang upon thy then contemned brows.

Hyp.

But I believe, they never will attempt us

But seconded with more, for they will fear

What may proceed from Court.

Mir.

Never believe, he would attempt this action,

But with some feigned story to my prejudice.

Hyp.

But the Princesse, Sir, seem'd to resent the injury,

She is too noble, meanly to suspect.

Mir.

Alas, Hyppasus, they before corrupted

His goodnesse that should incline to her,

These flatterers beset the thoughts of Kings,

As an ill enemy besieges Towns,

First poisons the fair springs.

Hyp.

These are the worst of fears, we may as well

Hope, that his judgment scorns unlikely stories.

But let the worst that fortune can prepare

Fall unregarded on us, the least defence

Will help us to the noblest fare.

[Page]Mir.

Nobly resolved.—

And when we fall so brave,

The world will find more losse, then we can have.

[Exeunt.

ACT 3. SCEN. 2.

Enter Peter, and Quinever.

Pet.

NAy, you had best teach her to beat a drum,

Do you think to make her now an old blind Amazon.

We shall have the Sheriff to send warrants for u [...],

Thus to raise Forces, and not se d [...]fendo;

Quin.

Lord, how wise you are good Peter, at least

You would fain s [...]em so, I can tell, I'me sure,

Where you have all your wisenesse.

Pet.

Where, good Quinever?

Quin.

All your law, out of the two old leaves

That lye behind the parlour-cupbord;

Piece, they say, of an old Stature book,

Which has been rotting there these twenty years.

And for your other talk, 'tis taken out

Of your old Erra-pater; and you, forscoth,

Must seem to be more wise then all of us.

I'me sure, when you made love to me,

And once were out of these two trodden roades,

You could not speak a word, but just, How do you.

[Page] And that repeated over with variety,

Of scurvy tones, nay.—

Pet.

Why, art thou mad, or dost thou think it fit,

My Lady, should defend all wandring strangers,

And enter into warres? I am resolved

To change my station, they are digging up earth

Before the Gates, I can't passe by,

But I must think of graves, men too brought in,

I think, to fill them.

Quin.

Hang your sheep's face, I see that now 'tis fear,

That your wise worship with your wonted ease,

Should not at leisure drink your morning draught,

And at the Alehouse for two pots

Hear your selfe praised,

And bribe a man to come to you for counsell

That never had need of any, you have worn your Gloves out

With biting your thumbs ends, to appear wise.

All this put together, got from my Lady's purse,

Thou hast been as chargeable as a Regiment.

Pet.

Why, Mrs. Quinever, sure you once had

Better opinions of me, though you now

Wash every day your best handkerchief

With yellow starch, and your lac'd quoiff,

Till it now hangs as if the devill

Had srighted you through quicksetts, not a post

But must be beaten for the rotten powder

To make your hair sit well, and all in hopes

That some of these should fall in love with you.

I vas once thought worthy, then I was honest Peter.

[Page]Quin.

Marry come up, what, love that transparent nose of thine

That gives the Serenades when thou sleepest?

Or thy wide mouth like a dead Lobster's claws,

Or thy starcht ruff like a new Pigeon-house,

Your garters tied above your boots; as if you feard

Your leg so well provided would be gone.

Pet.

Why I thank you sweet Mistresse Quin [...]ver go on

And be all mad whiles I lament you sober:

Nay you shall fight by your selves for Peter,

You'le make an excellent ammunition-Girle

Get a bottle to carry hot water in, in time

You may arise to be a Sutler's wife.

Quin.

I'le have your wise head fitted for all this

Enter Pysander.

And heer comes one shall do it.

Pet.

O sweet Mistresse Quinever

Quin.

No fawning now you whelp.

Pys.

Mrs. Quinever well met, I was seeking you.

Quin.

I am happy I have found you.

Pys.

How go matters? we have got some 50. men.

Quin.

All goes well: but this wise Gentleman

(Whose wit lies in his breeches, for 'tis all

He has to know when he has need)

Is much displeased at our preparations,

And asks me if you mean to make

My Lady a blind drummer

Pys.

And cannot you convert him?

Quin.

No indeed.

[Page]Pys.

VVhy thou ingratefull piece of wise formality,

How oft hast thou had warning to be wise?

I have threatned thee thou should'st never go

Without a rime-pind at thy back

Which should be thy own grievous Chronicle.

I told thee too that I would have thee painted

Riding upon an Asse and reading Seneca,

I thought this might have tyed thy tongue.

Pet.

Good Sir:

Pys.

Nay hear and mark me, if thou dost [...]r'e again

Seem to be wiser than thou art, and crosse

What now is done, nay if thou dos't not help

And put thy assisting hand to't, thou shalt ride

In a hot day upon a well lined sadle

With soap in thy new grogram-breeches, till it work

Like new tunnd beer, and every day

When thou sitst down to dinner one or other

Shall pull away thy stool, I'le spoil thy gravity,

Or noint thy feet with butter, whilst a dog

Shall lick and tickle thee, and if any comes

Here to oppose us thou shalt seem a stratagem:

For on the walls we'le set thee, like a thing

Stuft up with straw, onely to make them spend

Their shot upon thee, and in thy turn

Thou shalt do duty too, and every night,

Be sure to have alarmes. Speak what you'le do.

Pet.

I did but utter my opinion: I shall conform.

Pys.

It's well said, and I forgive you,

But take heed you erre no more.

Pet.

You need not doubt me.

[Page]Pys.

Come wench, now we breathe in safety,

And thou proud Peter's conquerour.

[Exeunt.

Pet.

The Devill go with you; he has conjured me.

Did ever Turk think of so many torments,

And in what order too he marshal'd them?

I am not yet out of a chilling sweat;

Nor shall I get now of enchanted Quinever

One drop of good hot water, God deliver me

From this strange hurly-burly; and yet I dare not fancy

A good strong halter and a handsom beam

I'le go to sleep, for I am now

Afraid of all things.

[Exit.

ACT 3. SCEN. 3.

Enter Phylanter, Lycespes.

Phyl.

THe intelligence is certain they are here,

At an old Ladies, and all hurt; we cannot misse them.

Lyc.

Those that I left preparing now come up

Make us 400. strong, your father too

Follows with more.

Phy.

We must attempt them (though) before relief

Can possibly arrive from any place,

And if we take him we are sure to make

Our own conditions, the best we can expect:

Our resolutions arm us for the rest.

[Page]Lyc.

We are prepared and I believe there's few,

That serve you, question policy or danger.

Phy.

Ye nobly all oblige me, and for your sakes

I could even wish I never had attempted

What I must scorn now meanly to repent of

But ill intents when they least prosper

Then mu [...]t be most persued, to reach again

Our first condition,

Lyc.

Nay Sir, I think it were no harm,

To wish us fairly off.

Phyl.

I would we were, but I am arm'd;

To dye I fear not, and yet I would

Fall with some pretty character about me,

At least I'le make the Kingdom joy

It had so brave a spirit, and like Rome glory

(In spight of fame) in Catiline who died

At once men's envie, and her pride,

Lyc.

VVe must loose no time Sir, the night

Conceales us, and as yet perhaps

They have had no intelligence,

The house is neer at hand—shall we parly?

Phyl.

'Tis the best way to find their confidence

Nor can it be a prejudice to us; we traffick now

Onely for what we'ave lost: "If we survive

"We'le find at least a nobler way to thrive.

[Exeunt.

[Page]

ACT 3. SCEN. 4.

Enter Pysander, two or three with him.

Pys.

SO that work's now finish'd.

Let all the guns be brought into the Hall,

'Tis to defend the good old Lady

From the rudenesse of Rogues; 'twill be casie work.

1.

Yes, yes, wee'l tickle them.

2.

I'le sweep 'em with my father's old Fouling-piece.

Pys.

Bravely resolved; but perhaps.

There may be yet no need on't, however

'Tis wisest to resolve against all dangers.

VVell, my good Lads, be in a readinesse, if any come,

VVee'l ring 'em a peal shall make 'em forswear

Such Holi-daies: they all die rather than wrong

Sir Percivall's widow. Now all unto your places.

1. 2.

Agreed, agreed.

Pys.

Now could I hug my genius, that through all

Has brought me to this harbour; and yet to think

If we should scape, what my engagements are,

Imprimis—To marry this old Lady Cow,

And play at Blindman-buff, 'tis as good lying

VVith Bulrushes or penny Faggots; she's mortality

Beyond a Death's head and Memento;

And yet she bridles as if she were but now

To be new-back'd and ridden; I have heard

[Page] Of a dead body that has long been so,

And yet retain its form, but when once toucht

Crumbles to dust; for ought I know she may do so too,

And I be hang'd for embracing Mummie.

But certainly I shall touch her gently,

For 'tis a remedy to see her drest

Against all carnall thoughts, beyond bathing

In Rivers in a frosty night.

She follows me, and asks a thousand questions

Among the rest

Enquired what I was making at the gate?

I answered her, a Curtain: then she mumpt,

And ask'd, If 'twere not for her wedding-bed.

She made the truest Hieroglyphick

That ever blind Aegyptian hit upon,

For 'twas of earth, and I most fairly hope

'Twill be her wedding-bed; bar death,

The devill cannot find another Rivall.

Mir.

Pysander come, we must to action.

Enter Mironault

Pys.

As how and how?

Mir.

Phylanter's here hard by already,

And without doubt knows we are lodg'd.

Pys.

Why—then—he'l knock us, or we shall knock him.

Mir.

It's worth no greater care, my brave Pysander.

Fortune and you have done your parts,

To give us something to employ your valours,

They now shall buy us bravely.

Pys.

Nay, I'le not sell my self at any rate,

I begin to have a wondrous value

[Page] Of this small composure of Pysander, if you mark it

'Tis very lucky to see an old blind Lady

—should fall in love with't,

One that runs her nose against posts.

But come, Sir, since these Lads will never leave us,

Let's in and provide for them, they may have

A better welcome than they dreamt of,

Unlesse Gunpowder lay last under their pillows.

Mir.

They shall hear us—

In lowder language then they do expect.

The gods but lent us life, and we still pay

Them interest, as casualties and sicknesse;

Death is the Principall, which when we restore,

VVe owe the world and gods no more.

[Exit.

Pys.

VVhy, its exceeding well; we shall be all

Clean out of debt in t'other world then;

Our Creditors are strangers there, so are they here

To me, I'me sure; and in the other world

If I should want, and thither must,

There's store of faith, and I'le take up on trust.

[Exit.

ACT 3. SCEN. 5.

Enter Phylanter, Lycespes, Others.

Phyl.

THis is the house sure it should be

By the description—How—VVorks thrown up?

[Page] All's quiet though; we must be cautious,

There may be else some trick in't.

—Summon the walls—

Lyc.

VVithin there, ho—ho—

Sure they lie buried in security.

As confident of power and successe,

As if the Destinies slept with them too,

And wak't at their command.

Let's wake them all—and yet 'tis hard

To rouse an innocence to disorder,

'Tis that I fear is their security.

Phyl.

O Lycespes!

It is as great a crime (when past) to think

Of things ill done, as 'tis unthought to act

The ill before; he that does one first cheats himself,

The other cousins him: now to be nice

Is vain, for us that have been cheated twice.

Lyc.

VVithin there, ho—

Phyl.

They are dead.

Mir.

No, we live, Phylanter,

Mironault, Hyppasus, Lysander, and others, appear above.

And far less fear that fate than you,

That have so many crimes to sinck your thoughts.

Spare your pains of asking us to yield,

VVee'l sooner find the worst of all extremities;

Danger will lose its nature when you bring it.

—Nay do not stay—

In expectation to hear me ask

VVhy you have thus unworthily thrown off

[Page] The name of Honesty: Some may fall

Not worth mens pitty, but their scorn,

And so do you.

Phyl.

You'r very high, so let your actions be,

Your crimes will need it. But I see words

Displease you, you shall have lowder Rhetorick.

Mir.

Fear not, thy basenesse has taught us to understand

That language.

Pys.

You, Lycespes, you Treason-hunter,

How, I wonder, did it happen, we did not meet

Your storming worship at the gate?

Pox on you, you were untrussing a point,

The old fighting loosenesse.

Lyc.

You'r merry still Pysander, and very brisk,

Are you so well already of your inlets.

Pys.

Hang you, if you bleed as much

As a staid man would let out from a witch

To save himselfe from enchanting,

The Physitians, Pothecaries, and Surgeons

Must stand about thee, like Pensioners;

If Hyppasus and I, can but get a willing curre,

We are lick't whole, a dog's our only Mountebank.

Lyc.

Very well Sir, when I visit you,

I'le bring a spaniell in my hand.

Pys.

Hang the couple of currs, say I,

Phy.

Your resolution's heard, I'le urge no more,

But leave you to your fates, only thus much,

By me the Princesse sends this punishment.

The danger now growes bigger sure,—

Mir.

This is mean Phylanter, and you still trifle honesty,

[Page] And I time and honour: let the storm come,

—And he that seems to fear,

Exeunt above.

May he unpittied fall, without a tear.

Phy.

His Courage still is excellent, great power of love,

That made me give so much to her,

I left none for my selfe. Lycespes draw round the house,

We [...]'l storm it instantly, dye all you lesser thoughts,

That at a distance tell your formall tales,

Or else come neerer, and wear noble shapes,

The distance makes you mistier, the dice are cast,

Th' event will punish or reward what's past,

[Exeunt.

ACT 4.

SCEN. 1.

Enter Caeca, as to dressing, a Table set out, and glasse, Quinever attending, Pysander following.

Caeca.

IS my Captain here?

Quin.

Now enter'd, and like your Ladiship.

Caeca.

Very well, leave us then: Come neer good Captain.

Exit. Quin.

Pys.

Mercy defend me. A dressing, or setting up a Barber's shop,

Here the teeth lye, what's this an old head?

[Page] A lecture for the best Anatomist; like a rusty Clock,

Taken a pieces to cleanse all the devices,

Set them together some engineer for me.

Caeca.

Pray sit neer me, Captain,

Pys.

I do.

Caeca.

O Captain, what a hideous noise

Was there ene now of bouncing, pray what i'st?

Pys.

Only some wandring Raskalls at the gate,

They'l have their errand suddenly.

Caeca.

I would they were gone, truly at the first noise,

I brake one of my pots of Mit [...]ridate,

VVith Dragon-water, good for the head and stomack.

Pys.

Was there ever such an old Almanack,

[aside

At the end of the year Medicines set down?

Caec.

Besides the great disturbance from your company.

Pys.

Nay, you see when I have freedom

I use into my own advantage,

Visit you before you'r ready—

Caec.

I shall be ready presently, the time will come

You shall be welcome to me quite undrest.

Pys.

The Devill of thy young bones

[aside.

Lockt in thy old Cabinet.

Caec.

I shall unparrell then faster than now I dress me;

You'l help to pull out pins I'le warrant you.

Pys.

Rather drive in wedges—

[aside.

Why you know we men must court,

You would be bashfull else, and it were pitty

To loose that time which should be better spent.

Caec.

You say true indeed.

Pys.

Come Madam, pray dresse your self

[Page] I'le serve you instead of a better chambermaid

S'death would she were once furnish'd

[aside.

One may dresse and undresse Long-lane as soon.

VVhat want you now, Madam?

Caec.

My night-rale, good Captain.

Pys.

I shall give her a sheet instead on't,

It lies about her like a casting net

'Slid I have given her never a wascoat,

And now will she call for her farthingale,

I must make haste but cannot go without her;

For her wise tenant's now before they fight

VVill see their Land-Lady

Caec.

My farthingale, good Captain.

Pys.

I thought so, now is she like an old Camel

VVith that hideous mount on her unfurnisht body.

Mercy how have I set her out! she may make

Good harmony; for shee's composed of different notes

She would yield a man more money to shew

Than an outlandish beast; my sweet Quinever

I have employ'd to stave off formall Peter

From making tenants seem as wise as he.

VVhat want you now, Madam?

Caec.

My Perriwig, good Captain.

Pys.

VVhich way to set this on now, is the question:

'Tis no matter I can't mistake now

More than I have done.

Caec.

I thank you Captain, I hope you and I

Shall live happily and comfortably together.

I was told, my seventh husband

Should be a wondrous honest and an able man.

[Page]Pys.

That, experience will let you know: I shall tell you

A merry tale towards bed time that will cure

The cough of th'lungs.

Caec.

And make one dream huge pleasantly

And that's a sign of youth I can assure you.

Pys.

That and your toothlesse Chap's are main ones.

If surious Medea had thrown thee

[Aside.

Into her age-renuing Kettle, thoud'st have lept out

With a medley of years upon thee.

Hark, a noise! by heaven it increases still, hark

[Noise

Caec.

O Captain, a noise!

Pys.

Nay there's two now in the Devill's name:

It still encreases, come Madam you must down.

Hyp.

'Sdeath, Pysander, they'r falling on

Enter Hyppasus.

The men stand all at gaze

And swear they'le see their Land-Lady,

We are all lost without some help.

Pys.

Madam, you must needs walk

And encourage your tenants, to send these fools away

'Twill defer our Marriage.

Caec.

Pray lead and I will follow.

Pys.

Come Hyppasus, how fares the noble Mironault?

Hyp.

As a brave Ship hemm'd by a raging storm

Resolves to throw the ballance ore,

Lose all and perish carelessly:

But come, we trifle time.

Pys.

Along then, and for your blind Ladyship

If you had no tongue

You should make signs to your tenants.

[Exeunt.

[Page]

ACT. 4. SCEN. 2.

Enter Phylanter, Lycespes.

Phyl.

COme Lycespes, is the alarme given

To amuse them on t'other side?

Lyc.

Yes.

Phyl.

What resistance does appear?

Lyc.

As yet all's wrapt in silence.

Phyl.

Where did the messenger say my Father was?

Lyc.

At hand Sir with 5000 men; wer't not best

We should defer the storm till then?

Phyl.

By no means; we will attempt it first,

For by that time they may have relief

Come from the Court, my father's suddain flight

Confirm'd the least suspition, helpt by the Princesse too.

Lyc.

It could not chuse, you have thrust your self

Into a troubled Ocean.

Phyl.

I know it, and now must sink or else go on,

There is no choice in Crimes but of our Fate,

The affrighting freedom of a wretched state.

We cannot hope ere to return again

Back on our fancies to our first conditions,

What tob'd us of the safety we enjoyd

First made us to contemne it;

'Tis a stayd gamester too, that would give o're

Upon the losing-hand; the most metl'd, or let it be

[Page] The maddest one, would stake on all his wealth,

Venter to tire Fortune or himself.

We have bargain'd now, and chopt a Peace for War

'Twere foolish to d [...]pend on ought but Victorie;

For that will change our acts, or others natures:

The vanquish'd wear the crimes, and all will fear

To judge or question what they too must bear.

This slender glosse I know must startle thee

That has so much of honesty and courage;

And if we fail I'le quarrell with my self

That cousend thee to follow what thou once

Didst love with'honour: fearing to be unjust

To friendship, made thee more unto thy self:

I have used thee as some that have seduced

Young men into bad company, thou hast found

Things much unworthy of thee—

Lyc.

Tis true, dear Sir, I will not face a lye:

Our acts have given me both amaze and trouble,

The last I threw behind me, may the VVorld

Forget the rest, there is a Fate hangs over all

That shews it's force when it resolves to strike

VVhen we can act at once, at once dislike,

And t'is the sad necessity that we must

Persist in crimes again to reach the good

That you intend; this nobly does deserve

My friendship now, and if we fail

—The world may yet believe▪

Our thought's were better, let them chuse to grieve.

Phyl.

Set on then, brave Lycespes, danger not found

VVomen frig tchildren with, and perills met

[Page] Uncheat us of our lives, that render'd us

But an unhappy treasurie for our cares,

Made monstrous by our joys, the hopes and fears

That spring from them, onely the stock we spend on.

This cannot add, I know, to thee; and I should blush

If it could ought to me. But 'tis mens pleasure

To undervalue what they think will go,

And they must loose—the world's fond nature's so;

And 'tis the bravest scorn ill men can have,

To change this world, as freely for a grave.

[Exeunt.

ACT. 4. SCEN. 3.

Enter Pysander hastily, the Blind Lady following, Peter directing.

[Alarm.

Pys.

NOw the Devill raise a Barricado, I am storm'd too;

I have pepper'd the Rogues on my side,

I must go see how the other fares.

Caec.

Is he here, Peter?

Pet.

Straight on, an't like your Ladiship.

Caec.

Pray stay, sweet Captain; Oh, oh,

All my corn's a-fire, good Captain.

Straight before still, Peter?

Pet.

Yes Madam.

Pys.

By this light, Sir, I'le direct your nose to the wall,

[Page]Caec.

Good Captain, all, all, my corn, oh, oh;

The great Barn's on fire, look how it burns.

Is this your kindnesse? pray, your hand.

Pys.

Pray take this for interposition.

he laies something in the way.

It will not do, she'l run her head

Against something or other, and beat her brains out.

—I must place her in here—

VVhat's this, a Corn-house—Here Madam.

Give me your hand, rest your self a little,

And I'le be with you presently: and for you, wise Sir,

he places her in the Vault.

Let her alone, til I, like a good Midwife,

Come and deliver her: This, Sir, you had best observe.

[Exit.

Pet.

VVhy its very well, I thought at least I might have given her

A hot fire-shovell to have bak'd a cake upon.

Nothing troubles me—

But that the Rats and Mice may play with her nose.

I thought she would be brought to this, Mrs. Quinever

Is employ'd in casting bullets with a face

Like fiery Sol in Leo, if this hurry hold long,

My poor old Lady may wish she had lost

All senses as well as seeing; for god knows

The employment for the rest are miserable.

Hark, a noise, they are at it, much good may't do them;

[a noise.

To run away it is impossible, and from my chamber

I can see all the shooting; it has made me wish a thousand times

[Page] I were as blind as my old Lady, I'le to her in the Vault,

I never thought my self too safe, he that did,

Let him leap Towers for Peter.

[He descends into the Vault.

ACT 4. SCEN. 4.

Enter Mironault, Hyppasus, Pysander.

Mir.

BRave Hyppasus, how to forgive my self I cannot tell,

For all that you have suffered.

Hyp.

Still on that strain, Sir!

VVe could not serve you thus if we repined,

Or feared to suffer for you; wrong not our honesty

And courage both.

Mir.

They are too excellent, I swear it were a pleasure

To share in danger with you, were't not a pain

To see you there—Gallant Pysander,

You brought us timely aid, and from our sinking fates

Raised us again; but you had quickly done

On t'other side.

Pys.

O mine were pittifull rascalls,

Yours came to their businesse handsomly.

Mir.

They did indeed, Phylanter first

Advanc'd before his men, bold in despight

Of all his crimes, and carelesse both alike

Of honesty and danger.

[Page]Pys.

He was the wiser; To what purpose

Should any one be thrifty of, that the world

So little cares for, this trifle Honesty.

Hyp.

Come Pysander, you must get the Soldiers drest,

That have been hurt, we may have more need of them.

Pys.

Yes, yes, as far as her Smocks will extend in Lint.

Mir.

I find I need a little dressing too.

—Let's in, and there—

Provide for after-claps of treacherous Fortune.

We must not fear a Frown, or court a Smile;

One may the VVise, t'other the Brave beguile.

[Exeunt.

ACT. 4. SCEN. 5.

Enter Albertus, and Others▪

Alb.

HOw far is't to his Quarters now?

1.

A little way, Sir.

Alb.

Be sure that all the Soldiers march in order,

And on their lives no outrage to the Country.

Let all be done in silence. No Scouts return'd yet?

1.

Not any, Sir.

Alb.

I am jealous of this Court, the King enclined

But little, suspition could not mingle with his nature,

The Princesse has confirm'd him sure; we act

On the uncertain'st Stage, the strangest parts

[Page] That ever yet were play'd, I would the world

VVould take it so. VVe have now stept

Beyond the power of Retreat or Fortune,

The one's too poor for us, and we for t'other.

VVe are like tired Gamesters with ill Cards

VVeary to hold the game, and yet play on

To save if not to win; perhaps

If we prevailed, Ambition would as well

Play on the game as now we do,

Though from a modester designe.

How little ought man to be trusted then

With power in this world, when even the things

He aims to thrive by are the crimes of Kings,

Good Princes, like best Juglers, still find first

The lesser sleights of others. How now,

What news?

Enter Mess.

Mess.

As we were scouting on the way,

Which leads unto Cracovia, we espied

The Body of an Army moving within

Two hours march.

Alb.

Ha, it must be so—she has don't.

Bid instantly Botiscay march with haste,

[exit Mess.

For fear we are hindred joyning with my son.

Amidst these crimes a little policy does well,

It must be so, all we can hope for now will be to make

But good conditions—

—To put it to the venture of a day were madnesse,

We can have no supplies, they may have more.

And yet—I know not what to think,

Distractions mingle with my thoughts,

[Page] And we still lose our judgments with successe.

Our resolutions waited on us then

Like servants wanting wages. All Mankind

Is one of those two Cowards,

—Either to wish to die

When we should live, or live when we should die.

Some fear, some wish, too early, or too late

Most fall, yet none must chuse his Fate;

Those that prepare for every storm, do seldom cast

Themselves away,

It is but bravely sinking at the last.

[Exit.

ACT. 4. SCEN. 6.

Enter Princesse, Amione, Phylena, and others.

Prin.

No news yet?

1. Not any Madam.

Prin.

Leave us, and give notice when any comes.

1.

I shall—

[Exit.

Prin.

We have not now sure far,

And yet me thinks 'tis along while

Ere we are there, time is thought

The fastest undiscerned flying thing

That is, but yet Love's wings are swifter,

Swift wishes impe his ragged plumes

And pull the feathers from the wings of Time,

[Page] —And every houer bears

Double proportion from our hopes and fears.

Phyl.

This pretty way of account Madam, will rise

Unto a sum of ages, added

To what now Mironault's a heaping,

'Twill make a new Chronologie,

But we still reckon on the old account.

Prin.

You'r merry still, Phylena, when your day comes

You'le give me leave to do the same.

Phyl.

Yes Madam, we both agree,

And yet you shrewdly once suspected it

Of this fair maid,

Prin.

You make me blush, she way forgive me though

For she deserved it,

Amio.

O Madam,—

Could you fall so much below

The power of all your beauties in such fears

That you could justly let suspition dwell

Where you pretend an interest? The Rose as well

May drooping hang it's fragrant head

Jealous of meaner Flowers, and the Sun

Suspect his light when mortalls kindle fires.

Prin.

Nay Amione you court me now

I will not call it flattery, whil'st it comes

From thee, for that's a crime

That dwells with crooked natures, yet it was

Mistaken kindnesse.

Amio.

'Twas you mistook it sure, for none will find

Themselves deceived that love you,

Enter Mess.

Prin.

How now, what news?

[Page]Mess.

Just now for certain, Madam

The Lord Albertus joyned unto his son

With a great Body,

Prin.

They have not yet attempted ought.

Mess.

Yes Madam, before his Father's coming,

Phylanter storm'd the house.

Prin.

Ha: hast thou learnt no particulars?

Mess.

Yes all, for before the Lord Albertus coming

The smallnesse of their numbers gave us freedom

To enquire near the place of all particulars,

—And thus it was,

Soon as Phylanter had found out

The house they stayed at, presently he ghest

That wounds had caused their stay, by reason

They strove to reach no place of more security

And so indeed it was; ghessing besides,

They should have smal resistance: upon these thoughts

Phylanter draws about it, then summons them.

But in the midst the gallant Mironault

Hinders the parly with a hasty scorn,

As if he meant to drive no bargain,

But sell at his own rate, at which

The bravely bad Phylanter sweld with rage

Prepar'd to give th'assault, and in the head

Of all his men advanc't (some distance) first,

To bring on ruine great as was his crimes,

Or else to perish with them, and seem'd half willing

To be forgotten on a noble score;

So equally divided, or to hide

His mischiefs in their Fates, or in his own.

[Page] The storm grew hot, yet still Phylanter urged

Beyond belief, now out of Love with safety,

Because his foes in spight of him enjoyd it

(With an unlookt for power to resist him)

Branded the name of Fortune with a whore,

As if they had begot supplies upon her;

On t'other side his men sees shrinking from him,

When mad with rage he easily retires

With such a look as longing Lovers send

When they must part, so much he coutted danger,

And now retreating with his drooping forces,

The gallant Mironault like a bright Sun

Broke from the smoakie storm, and issues forth,

Acting new Tragedies, till, being jealous

More forces might come in,

In order they retreated, and for certain

Phylanter both and Mironault are hurt.

Prin.

O me!

Phyl.

Madam send off the messenger, Let not him see

The least disorder.

Prin.

Go instanly, and bid Symathocles

Let all the Army march in readinesse to fight.

Mess.

I shall.

Prin.

And acquaint him with all you know

Exit Mess.

Nay do not hide thy tears Amione

They can't displease me, wench, nor shall I think

That there is grief enough for him,

Though I am fully stor'd.

Amio.

Alas, what a condition Fortune throws him in?

[Page] Did he but know by whom he were lamented

He could not have so much of joy,

As grief to think how he was ravisht

From the lov'd mourner;

Prin.

I prethee peace; not that I fear

To have more grief for him, for I have that

Within me has made that impossibility,

But to inlarge thy own, 'tis true too

That I should give thee counsell not to grieve,

But I shall grieve the while, yet if thou thinkest

I wrong thy kindnesse then wee'le mourn together

And joyn our stock of tears, for no one store

Is worthy of him.

Amio.

Though nature made me partiall, it robd me not

Of so much reason, to be so impudent,

The Fates perhaps, or some great power

That has a speciall care for you, or kindnesse,

Preserved you for themselves, and lent you to the world

As the S [...]n was, not for the happinesse

Of one alone but all.

Prin.

May we not yet amidst our greatest grief

Believe it is not dangerous; for after he was hurt

They leisurely retired.

Amio.

Would I could so be satisfied—

And yet that clearly justifies we wish

Our own contents, then when we raise

Our fears to equall power in our thoughts

Of what we doubt, yet what we wish to have;

None e're yet wish'd a life, but fear'd a grave.

Prin.

'Tis true Amione, those torturing [...]ivalls

[Page] Hope and fear are ever whispering,

And they that have most need of one,

Have ever most of t'other. When I think this,

Though I would willingly pretend to counsell,

Or any thing would ease thy grief, I must

Believe it both impossible and needlesse.

Am.

Were it not just to linger then no longer

In all these doubts, since we might give them ease.

Prin.

As how can it be done?

Am.

I would attempt to see him, I onely want your leave.

Prin.

It is impossible, the ways are all shut up.

Am.

I do not mean to go concealed.

They say Phylanter is so much a Gentleman,

He will not certainly deny a woman.

Fear not, Madam, 'tis but two hours time,

And I am there, or here again.

Prin.

I can deny thee nothing, not this I'me sure;

If thou seest him, tell him, that Love and Constancy's rewarded

In t'other world, and will be so in this.

Tell him, I wish his happinesse

And mine own together. And be sure

You take a Chirurgeon with you.

Phyl.

My service, Madam.

Am.

I will not fail, Heaven keep you.

May I return with such a blessing

As I now bear to him.

[Exit.

Prin.

Farewell, dear Maid. Phylena, now

The time draws near of joy or misery,

—We live at an uncertain rate,

Or flatter'd stil, or else displeas'd with fate.

[Exeunt.

[Page]

ACT 4. SCEN. 7.

Enter at one dore Albertus and Others, at another Phylanter, Lycespes, and Others.

Alb.

I Should chide now, but the condition of your fortunes

Cannot be that way helpt, nor are you fit

For a disturbance, I hear you have succesless

Storm'd the house; Why stai'd you not till I arriv'd?

'Twas folly to attempt it with so few.

Phyl.

But that has hapned now which I then feared,

For I did ghesse supplies would come to them

As soon as you to us. Besides, who would have ghest,

Or now can think, how they come by their aid?

Had we proved fortunate, we might have made

Our own conditions.

Alb.

In that you have hit my thoughts, for now we must

Not lose our selves by fear or folly;

The one's too mean, the other but a madnesse.

And we must look on these we have

Without a hope of more, and on them

As an encreasing body; by this we are constrain'd

Upon the nick to make our compositions,

Or put it to the venture of a Day;

The first's the better, were the last the likelier.

For I believe that, passion laid aside

That first incited these rash thoughts and actions,

[Page] You look upon't as not to be pursu'd,

But fairly to be le [...]t. Men may erre,

It is the influence of Chance and Nature,

But to pursue it, is their own—Lycespes—

There is much due to you, you were still honest,

And most a friend in danger,

Who are in safety onely are their own.

Lyc.

My Lord, I always owed your son as much,

And did resolve to pay it, till I had cause

To leave, or feared to avow it.

Alb.

You are still noble. But Phylanter,

VVhat certain intelligence have you?

Phyl.

VVe know, Sir, the Army of the King

Is hard at hand, they say the Princesse too

Is with them.

Alb.

I ghess'd as much, and for that reason

I left the Court, for I heard

That she was big with rage—VVell,

The time's now short, and something must be done:

Let all be in a readinesse, and prepare

Nobly to reach successe, or ill to share.

In the mean time wee'l presently advise

The honorablest way for composition.

For to be safe and good is better far,

Than trust our crimes unto the chance of War.

[Exeunt.

[Page]

ACT. 5.

SCEN. 1.

Enter Phylanter.

Phyl.

HOw have I thus been cousened! how monstrous too

It seems, still to pursue the crimes I lov'd before:

To be uncousened, though 'tis just, seems poor,

When danger gives the wisdom: how low we sinck

When we once fall below our selves!

We still must fear what others ought to do.

In crimes none can be wise and gallant too.

All this besides for an uncertain Beauty,

Nor yet possest or gain'd, the Persian so

Spends all his wealth and prayers on the Sun,

That equally dispences unto those

Which ne're ador'd him, his warm comforts too.

Farewell to all your Sex, that cannot be

Belov'd, but with unthrifty misery.

The Lover that's unlov'd, like me, must waste

His store of Love, the Lov'd may longer last.

They that joyn Stocks, with ease our-spends

Him that runs on unpaid and lends.

Farewell: I will uncheat my self and you,

For when I lov'd you first I cousen'd two.

Sould.

My Lord!

Phyl.

How now?

Enter Souldier.

Sould.

A woman at the dore

[Page] Desires admittance to your Lordship.

Phyl.

Thou ravest! a woman?

Sould.

So I told you.

Phyl.

Nay, I might wonder, for such and I

Have now so little businesse with each other,

That by my troth 'tis strange.

Seems she a person of any quality?

Sould.

Yes.

Phyl.

Handsome?

Sould.

To a miracle.

Phyl.

The Devil on the wonder! businesse with me?

Soul.

So she earnestly exprest.

Phyl.

Bring her in.

[Exit Souldier.

Curse on the Sex, Civility must wait upon 'em,

Their weaknesse makes us fools, or else their beau [...]ies.

Ha! 'tis that indeed that charms us from our selves,

And all the handsome actions that we do

Seem offerings to their powers, as if the Sea

Should send a tribute to the little Brooks,

Such a preposterous thing is Love, 'tis like

The folly and the crime to make a god

One's selfe to worship—Now for a trap

I shall be shy of these fair baits.

—What subtle trick—

Must this fair Instrument bring about?—

—I will be deaf to charms—She comes.

Enter Amione and Souldier.

Ha—extreamly fair—

Come perhaps for to revenge

The scandall of her sex upon me—Is it on me

[Page] Fair maid, that you would lay commands?

Ami.

A comely man, pitty that form

Should harbour so much basenesse.

[aside.

It is you, Sir, I must petition; for commands,

Though they might seem fair attributes to our sex,

Yet when you know, to whose much hated name,

Nature has made my Love a debt,

You will believe, Thardly should petition.

Phyl.

I rather shall consider this fair thing,

To whom a hated name can owe an interest,

—But you have heard—

Stories perhaps, not much becomming me,

Made up of others envies and my crimes,

Nor can I tell a good one of my selfe,

But that I love an innocence like yours,

And only that, for you to have a confidence,

I hardly shall deny you.

Ami.

The world has sure belied him,

[aside.

—Nay, Sir,

Nature commands, that I should ask,

Your fair encouragement has given me hopes▪

Not to be quite denied, and I am sorry

That I must now beg a civility,

And dare not own requitall; 'tis the first time,

That justice and ingratitude were friends.

Phyl.

You still believe me too unworthy: they that do

An act that does deserve requitall,

Pay first themselves the stock of such content,

Nature has given to every worthy mind,

If others should be bankrupt—

[Page] Pray torture me no more but aske.

Amio.

He would deceive me strangely,

[aside.

Know then, the sister to wrong'd-Mironault must ask:

Does it not startle you?

Phyl.

You see it does not.

He that has injured Mironault, will grant it,

Trifle no more.

Amio.

Tis only then your leave that I may see him,

Phyl.

And happinesse attend you, you shall have

A conduct with you;—I did not think

That I should find so much of joy,

In that small time I have to bustle here,

As your lov'd power has given me,

Pardon me, if I dare attempt

To have a little peace within me,

Still to remember you, I fear I must,

Though both should be unwilling.

Amio.

I shall promise Sir, I carry no intelligence.

Phyl.

Urge it no more, I do not fear,

Nor am I ignorant, of what a storm

Is falling now upon me, only grieved

That I durst bring it to't, and yet now pleased,

That I dare bear it: choise in crimes,

Is the worst part in man, and good from fear,

The meanest. But I have said to much, only thus,

The last of all my thoughts, shall be of you,

They may be good: Nay, do not wonder,

Nor be so much concerned for one so lost,

To frame an answer from a smile or frown,

I will conduct you on your way, as you come back,

[Page] Others shall waite you, for your eyes

Shall not be injured with an hated object.

Here in this world, my fate, the quarrell ends,

—In t'other sure, we may meet friends.

[Exeunt.

ACT 5. SCEN. 2.

Enter, Mironault, Hyppasus, Pysander.

Hyp.

NAy, for certain, Sir,

We saw a body marching, which cannot possibly

Belong to t'other Army.

Pys.

Why, I did alwayes believe,

My dancing daies were not quite done.

Mir.

I know not what to ghesse, nor do I wish;

For in extreams, lesse cares give noblest thoughts,

Designes of wishing, are the cheating joyes

Of fearfull men, t'were foolishnesse beside;

A carelesse hope looks handsomely.

Hyp.

We shall so justifie our selves, but I believe,

'Tis not unreasonable, to think our innocence

Should merit some protection, the Princesse sure

Will not be last in justice.

Mir.

Urge it no more, nothing is worth her care,

'Tis some as bad as those, come to assist them.

Enter servant.

Serv.

There's one without, Sir, that would desire

[Page] Admittance to you.

Mir.

Who i'st.

Serv.

A woman.

Mir.

A woman? I cannot ghesse,—

Exit. servant.

—Let her come in.

What should this mean, deceive me not too much,

Fond hope, nor puzzle me, for if you do,—at last,

I shall grow carelesse of my joyes and you;

Ha! Amione,—welcome,

Enter with Amione.

Welcome, above all joyes but one.

Ami.

Perhaps, welcome as that, I have much to say,

But I must first be civill. Brave Hyppasus,

May you nere know extremities, but if you should,

May you find such a friend, as you have been.

Hyp.

Were I not nobly paid in his desert,

I were in this?

Ami.

The same to you Pysander, for to thank you

In any other Language, were too poor,

And much unjust, for to divide,

What you so nobly joyn'd in.

Pys.

Now have I forgot, what Hyppasus said,

Pray take his answer in good part for us both.

Ami.

You'ar merry still, Pysander.

Pys.

I confesse, nothing went ever neer my heart,

Unlesse it were your Love, but what availeth sighes and tears?

Ami.

Very well, Sir.

Dear Brother, pardon this injury of gratitude,

That kept me so long from you; forgive me too,

[Page] If joy disorders me, I have enough

To see you safe.

Mir.

Dear Amione, how long we shall be so,

Heaven knows, yet 'twas a great advantage

To live thus long to see thee: but how wast possible

You could get hither, or from whence now come you?

Ami.

Why, Phylanter's great civility,

Brought me safe hither.

Mir.

But from whence?

Ami.

From the Army.

Mir.

From whose Army?

Ami.

The Princesse.

Mir.

Ha!—

Ami.

I will defer your joyes no longer

From the Princesse, who bid me tell you,

That faith and constancie's rewarded

In t'other world, and will be so in this?

Mir.

Thou would'st not mock me sure.

Ami.

I do not.

Mir.

O▪ Amione, Didst thou but know the joy of every heart,

That at this hour, has its wishes crown'd,

Thou might'st then ghesse at mine.

And is she there in person?

Ami.

Yes, attended with a gallant Army,

Much stronger then the enemy, you might

Discern them sure; and resolved as soon as I return

To offer battell. Is Phylanter,

Prepar'd to fight?

Mir.

With any thing in spight of all his crimes,

[Page] Resolves to perish bravely, so great a villain

Ne're bore so brave a mind,—tis a question,

Whether he thinks, there's such a thing as danger.

Ami.

We heard indeed, he storm'd it bravely,

And that your hurts were of more danger

Then I perceive they are; 'twas the report

Of that which brought me hither.

Nor must I stay, the Princesse layed commands

Of my immediate coming back; at more leisure,

You shall have all my story, in the mean time,

I must needs tell you, you are like to be

Extreamly happy; O Brother, never was so much sweetness

Guarded so sure from crimes, if ever breast

Were Sanctuary for vertues, it is her's:

She will deserve your love I fear much more,

Unlesse its possible, men should be constant.

Mir.

This is not kind Amione, her valew

Will make me wise still to preserve my riches;

And benefit is mans designe.

Ami.

Man seldome though pursues his owne advantage,

Women like Towns, once wonne are slighted:

VVhat we already have within our powers,

Has lesse esteem then unatchieved things.

Mir.

Urge it no more, one may as well be weary

Of the Sun's constant shining, as her influence:

He never rises, but he seems to bring

Fresh glory from the East▪ and every day

VVill adde a new discovery of her vertues,

That she will never seem enjoy'd enough.

Besides, though man's compos'd of faithlesse matter,

[Page] The Soul of one may be of nobler use

Than others are, and with that Soul

Man had not been so nobly put in trust

Had he not means left free to be unjust.

Come, so much eternitie as my love must have,

Must not be told in such a little moment

As you have now to spare, nor will I injure

The little time I have with thee,

When we shall meet again heaven knows:

For friends once pawn'd to distance there is a danger

To bankrupt hopes.

You must expect but poor besieged welcome

—Who such relief as Anchorets have

At least shall find in an expected grave.

[Exeunt.

ACT. 5. SCEN. 3.

Enter Phylanter, Solus disguised.

Phyl.

WHat is the next thing how that must be done?

How weary all the World and I

Am grown of one another? I should be friends

With this disguise, could it but hide my crimes:

But night it self that great disguifer,

Wants power to conceal the least of crimes

From any troubled breast, when man would fain

Be unacquainted with himself again:

[Page] 'Tis just too, when we have our selves betraid

That we should be then of our selves afraid

Ambition onely is our nature's folly,

That robs us of that little stock of reason,

We have at temperate and idle hours.

If we but take the inventory of our selves,

There we shall find such perisht stuff

By rage and passion, that 'tis just

We should be once forgotten in the dust;

—But for my new design—ha—'tis odd

To throw my self into the power of them—

As if 'twere meannesse, or something poorer; fear—

—Yet—let it dye

[Studies.

Enter Amione. Hyp. Pys.

Ha—she comes—

—A Persian's cold devotion thus,

Receives new warmness from the rising Sun

—It must be so—

He that would hide Love kindled once within,

Rakes but his fire up to keep it in.

Hyp.

We take our leaves now Madam, for we see

There's one attends you from the

Exe. Hip. Pysan.

Lord Phylanter,

Phyl.

Madam, my Lord Phylanter sent me hither

In his own language to present you Safety

Great as you merit.

Amio.

I thank you Sir, he has obliged me nobly:

Had he forgot his crimes, I should forget

He were an enemy.

Phyl.

He bid me tell you farther,

That he had waited on you here himself,

[Page] But that he fear'd to injure your fair eyes,

That should be onely pleas'd with welcom objects.

Amio.

Ha: perish you easie thoughts, that start

[aside.

At hearing of that name, yet when you think of him

I may forgive you, if you then

Frighten your selves,—

And yet it may be Love; ruines of Love

And lightning are alike—

For, what would willingly resist

They both consume; I shall attend you Sir,

If you please to lead the way—

[Exeunt.

ACT 5. SCEN. 4.

Enter Albertus, Lycespes.

Albert.

COntinue still worthy Lycespes,

To let him know repentance needs no blushes.

Or that 'tis necessary for Fate or us,

To persue cruell actions, yet with a gentle hand

That no distraction mingle with his nature;

For he is young, and youth's unsetled furie

Is ready still to act,

Lyc.

I have Sir, with a gentle hand

Toucht all the storie of this madnesse,

And find him too, like an experienc't gamster,

[Page] Asham'd to have been cheated, but resolv'd

Wisely no more to venture at that game:

Our whole designs must needs therefore now

Aime, but to bring us off, and yet prepare

Not to want courage in the meanest Fortune.

Albert.

'Tis all that can be said in our Conditions,

In order therefore to our sad affairs,

Wee'le instantly dispatch a Trumpet

To offer fair conditions, or any thing

That may not sound like mercy from another:

That's an unworthy way to adde

To other's fames, in ruining our own;

And yet our whole desires shall be low,

Indeed they must, for the extremity

Of every unresisted Fate makes poor

Their thoughts that were as rich before.

[Exeunt.

ACT. 5. SCEN. 5.

Enter Phylanter, Amione.

Amio.

YOu have now, Sir, performed that civill part,

That alwies shall enforce me to esteem

The Lord Phylanter, and may this Sir

She offers him money.

Tell you my thanks.

Phyl.

Madam, reward can not be due

To this small service, though I may do

[Page] What may perhaps seem to deserve

Something of that nature, but I must first

Desire you to prepare for to believe

Not ill of him, that thinks your wrongs

Deserve devotions, greater than his trust.

Amio.

What mean you Sir?

Phyl.

Would it not be worth a reward at least?

That you might have within your power

The ease of all your hard misfortunes?

Amio.

Certainly 'twere; the sound bears greater joy

Than possibility.

Phyl.

I know sometimes, that Treason seems

But ugly in the justest cause;

Though I believe that never yet,

A power like yours commanded it.

Amio.

Still I understand you not, pray to the matter.

Phyl.

To be short then, know Phylanter loves you,

Your seeming kindnesse will have power

To draw him where you please, for to my breast

He has committed all his thoughts,

And bid me judge when I should see you,

Whether he had not cause for all his passions,

(Indeed he has) so much his crimes are greater;

Nor is it more injustice to his trust

Than due to you to tell you, if you please,

That I may bear some feigned kindnesse from you,

I'me sure 'twill bring him any where,

That you may easily surprise him.

Amio.

But do you think he has lost his reason so?

To trust himself without his guards,

[Page] And his surprifall then will not be easie.

Phyla.

Alas, his reason's like an helplesse friend,

Left and forsaken, and nothing but your name

Must be forgiven, that would attempt to lessen

His thoughts from what he has done, you need not fear

He can be over-wise that loves so much,

Nor will his reason tell him that 'tis due

To all his kindnesse.

Amio.

Nor is it sure.

Phyl.

But to his former storie 'tis, and present actions;

For though repentance onely at your name

Has power in his thoughts, yet he contemns

To have that Virtue on a meaner score,

His crimes to all the world besides continue.

Amio.

And they may better be the punishers.

Phyl.

I grant you, were it in their power

As 'tis in yours, and they would then

Do sure as much for you.

'Tis but the least command from you,

My life on't, I bring him where you think best

He may be with most ease surpris'd.

Amio.

But should not you consider?

That though this punishment be due from me,

The treacherie's unjust in you.

How much it is the businesse of mankind

[aside▪ Whilest she turns away and speaks, he throws off his disguise, and lays his sword drawn, with the hilt towards her.

To make a bargain for their honesty,

And yet not think how little that will yield

To others, which they make so cheap,

[Page] Man's like a barren and ingratefull soil,

That seldom pays the labour of manuring.

How has Philanter injured him, or I obliged him?

That I could at first upon a lesser score

Share with his crimes, and on a meaner now

Basely dislike, as if his choice were just,

Whose equall ease accepts and forfeits trust.

[...]'le tell him too 'tis base, how fain would Love

Tell his own story, through a nobler cause,

And blushes sure as well as I.

—It should be for Phylanter—

Ha! Deceive me not fond eyes, it cannot be

she turns and sees him.

I owe amazement now so much—

—It must arrest me.

Phyl.

Wonder not, fair Amione, nor fear

I'le beg your pitty, that contemn my own,

And yet for many reasons think I love you;

Though I believe my time will hardly give

Me leave to reckon them—Onely consider,

That I durst here avow it, I could have faln,

Its true, as nobly with my fellows,

But much more happier here; I would have weigh'd it too

More leisurely in reason's scales, till a thought

Of you broke in, and ended the dispute.

I have at my own rate procured my happinesse,

Nor have I done lesse sure for you; 'tis the first service,

And likely too to be the last I e're shall do you.

Amio.

O Phylanter, you should not trust

[Page] Revenge, and all your crimes at once

In any power, though I perhaps

Shall fear to be a murtherer, so to make

My self as bad as you.

Phyl.

Why I confesse, I willingly

Would be as good as you, but that's a lesson

Hardly to be learn'd, and yet it looks

Much like the way to read it often;

As I have done your vertues.

I say not this to tempt a mercy,

I have deserved a great deal of unkindnesse;

But not so much as now to fall

A sacrifice to any but your wrongs.

Amio.

I know not what to say—

You may repent, perhaps grow good;

Pray try.

Phyl.

'Tis true, I think I might;

But 'tis a question still, whe're you'd grow kind.

And indeed, the fear of that great danger

Made me contemn the rest. But I trifle time,

By all that's charitable, let me not fall

By meaner hands. Hark, some Souldiers.

[a noise.

Use this for pitty's sake.

Enter Souldiers.

Amio.

Alas! ah me!

1.

How now? who have we hear, Philanter?

Treason!

2.

Treason, treason!

Phyl.

Nay, then I must use it.

[fight.

Villains, I have a little businesse here,

one falls, t'other flyes.

I might have spared the reason though to you

[Page] They have raised the alarm; yet, Amione,

Free me from this mean ruine.

Amio.

Pray put on your disguise again,

You may yet scape.

Phyl.

I'me glad it is impossible, you see it is,

O Amione; had I but loved you at a lesser rate,

I might have found a soberer expression.

But yet remember, a mad-man seldom loses

His kindnesse with his judgment.

A noise again! hell on their yellings!

[alarm.

Amio.

By that love you bear me,

Put on your disguise.

Phyl.

Never, till my safety be worth your care.

Amio.

O Phylanter, though your condition needs it,

'Tis too soon for me to say it, yet I will tempt my

To tell you, I would have you safe.

Phyl.

That now my fate is unavoidable, the gods blushes

Perhaps provided, lest I should surfeit

Of joys in this world; yet I shall have

Enough, if you believe, no dying mind

Can have more joy, or living love.

'Twas my grief at first to love you, and now

My fear at last you should not know it.

'Twas all my businesse too before my end.

I could wish one thing more, to be resolved,

Whether in t'other world (where wise-men tell us,

There is such store of love) our joy shall be

Greatest, to meet those friends we lov'd best here.

—but I shall be resolved. In the mean time,

What e're becomes of me,

[Page] Let your kind thoughts

—admit sometimes this minute's memory.

Amio.

Alas, think of your safety; Hark! they come! yet

[noise.

Let your disguise and me protect you.

Phyl.

When I have your protection—I need need not this disguise,

Nor will I wear it. They come.

My dear Amione,

Enter Souldiers.

For ever live as happy as I die.

1. 2.

Here! here! on! on! on!

Phyl.

Villains, you shall buy me bravely.

[fight.

Sym.

Hold, on your lives; how, Phylanter?

Enter Symathocles.

Phyl.

The same, you need not bid me welcome,

Nor tempt me much, Symathocles.

Amio.

O Phylanter, be yet more temperate;

Pray, Sir, let me obtain a little hearing.

Sym.

You may command it. The Princess!

Enter Princesse, Phylena, Followers.

Amio.

O Madam, let me beg

That no amazement dwell upon your eyes,

Nor any thing but mercy.

Prin.

I have both ready for thy sake—How—

—Phylanter—VVhat Riddle's this—?

Phyl.

I owe that name indeed, but with less blushes

Than I did once.

Prin.

I promised not to wonder, my Amione;

But this is strange.

[Page]Amio.

You promised mercy too.

Prin.

Have you an interest in his pardon then?

Blush not,

I'le ask no more—Phylanter—

This story shall be perfect at more leisure,

And all things else shall be deferr'd

But my forgivnesse. I do believe

(You came to fetch your pardon in so much danger)

You can repent or any thing, but deserve

The happinesse preparing for you.

he kisses the Princess hand.

Come, Amione, thou hast brought back

An unexpected friend. May this successe

To every one bring equall happinesse.

[Exeunt.

ACT. 5. SCEN. 6.

Enter Albertus, Lycespes.

Alb.

HAs no one yet brought any news?

Lyc.

Not any, Sir, O misery!

Betraid by some sleight. How now?

Enter a Messenger.

From whence com'st thou?

Mess.

My Lord, your son desires to meet you;

And withall you would not wonder,

That with the Princesse he waits your comming.

Alb.

Stranger yet! some farther mischiefe sure!

Lycespes Draw up the Army instantly.

[Exit Lyces.

We must not be thus cousened.

[Page] Came you from my son?

Mess.

But now, Sir.

Alb.

And is he with the Princesse?

Mess.

Yes, Sir.

Alb.

Where?

Mess.

Now comming to the House.

Alb.

With all her Army?

Mess.

Onely with a small Guard.

Alb.

There may be something then.

Fortune I'le think if now thou shew'st thy care,

Thou canst redeem as wel as bring despair.

[Exeunt.

ACT 5. SCEN. 7.

Enter Princess, Phylanter, Amione, Phylena, and Others.

Prin.

IS this the house, Phylanter?

Phyl.

Yes, Madam.

Prin.

Pray summon it.

Phyl.

'Twill now be yielded, Madam,

Far easier than 'twould once. Within there, ho!

Pysander appears above.

Pys.

How now, what news, O Phylanter?

Is your troublesome Worship there again?

—how now, the Princesse too?

Prin.

The same, Pysander.

[Page]Pys.

Now truly Madam, do I think

I had best call Mironault to unriddle this.

—The labour's sav'd.

Mironault appears above too.

Prin.

Mironault.

Mir.

Ha.—

Prin.

Do you not know me?

Mir.

Yes, and others too there.

Prin.

This is injustice Mironault,

Can you let wonder keep you thus from me?

Mir.

I had forgot, it's true, 'tis Mirramente,

And serupulous thoughts were sins unpardonable,

He descends.

Pys.

If I should stay to consider what this means,

I should be the last should know it;

He comes down.

I'le e'ne descend too.

Prin.

Mironault,

—Though these strange objects might deserve a storie,

Enter Mironault.

'T would take up time, and I shall think it crueltie

To rob thee of one minute's joy, if I can give it.

Miro.

If you can give it? have I thus long

Lov'd you, and lov'd you religiously, now to have

All my devotion question'd?

Can sick men joy in health? or liberty

Be pleasing unto captives? In your kindnesse

Lies all my health and liberty.

Prin.

Nor will I fear to avow it, dearest Mironault,

No thoughts of crossing danger e're shall fright

My Love or me.

Miro.

It's true, I am unworthy of you; but so are all,

[Page] And he that parts me from you,

Must joyn me to a colder Bride.

Phyl.

And more than you, gallant Mironault,

Wonder no more, nor think on stories past,

But that to come, Phylanter will appear

As worthy of your friendship,

—As he was once of hate—but stay

I had forgot to ask your pardon. Indeed

He takes Amione by the hand.

Heer's one may better do it, whose fair opinion

—Will promise for me.—

Miro.

Brave Sir, I hated still your crimes not you, so did she,

And if she love your Virtues, pray believe

I am her brother too.

Phyl.

Madam, I see

Enter Albertus.

A little honesty will make one impudent

That I must now beg pardon for others,

That scarsly should have hop't if for my self.

Prin.

Rise my Lord, you need not now

Of any doubt your pardon.

Alb.

Excellent Princesse, I shall deserve hereafter

What an unjust necessity made me shun to testifie.

Kisseth her hand.

Prin.

Hyppasus and Pysander, I must not now

Forget your share in thanks,

That did receive your part in danger.

Pys.

Nay your Highnesse cannot be better pleased than we

That all the danger's past, to say truth,

[Page] Hypasus and I were clearly your Platonicks,

And made up the Romance.

The blind Lady hearing his voice, calls from under the vault where he put her.

Caec.

Captain.

Prin.

How now, what's that?

Pys.

Why nothing Madam,

Onely an honest fellow kill'd in the storm,

And now his ghost walks; in his life time

He was a talking fellow, Hyppasus you know it.

Hyp.

Hang you, what do I know?

Caec.

Why, Captain, Captain?

Pys.

Plague on you, would you were gagg'd.

Prin.

This is strange!

Pys.

Nay your Highnesse need not be troubled,

I'le have a Schollar shall lay it at my own charge.

Hyp.

Well Sir, if you'le be at that cost, I'le be the Scholar,

To raise it at my own.

Pys.

Pox on your conjuring fools-head,

Hyppasus takes her out of the vau't with corn upon her farthingale, Peter following.

By this light she rises—

Like Ceres with Plenty about her,

Lord, how Peter stares!

Caec.

Captain, Pray, your hand

[She goes on.

Pys.

Here forsooth.

He goes behind the Princesse.

Now have at the Princess, la, ra, ra, ra

Your Highnesse may be pleas'd,

She runs against the Princesse.

To pardon her usuall exercise,

She was the best tilter in her time

[Page] That ever ran.

Mironault whispers to the Princesse.

Caec.

O Captain, pray your hand,

Pys.

Now have I ague: what tends

This whisperig to?

Prin.

Come Pysander,

The god of Love himself is blind,

She, or her estate (I hear) is very fair.

Pys.

Why, is your Highnesse in earnest?

And please you shee's some sourscore,

A dog were as good a husband for her

To lead her up and down.

Prin.

Madam, Will you consent to have this Gentleman?

Caec.

I have already yielded.

Pys.

And be hang'd 'twas before you were storm'd.

Prin.

Come it shall be a match, shee'l make you her Executor.

Pys.

Well, wee'l all be marri'd then. Hypassus

If you please, you shall have Quinever.

Pin.

We are all happy then; we need not fear,

Unlesse my Father frown.

Phyl.

We shall unwillingly throw off again

Our Loyalty to him, and yet we shall

Be very ready to embrace a witnesse,

That we dare dye for Mironault.

Mir.

You nobly all oblige me, and I must tell you

My dearest Princesse that I cannot fear,

Whilst I enjoy your Love, for that has rais'd me

Above the power of Fate or danger,

Nor have I leisure to think on any thing,

But of those joys are falling now upon me,

[Page] Which neither time or age can ever lessen;

For still your Virtues like Medea's charms

Shall bring fresh beauties to my happy arms.

[Exeunt.

Pys.

We Bridegrooms disagree, for every day

Will oblige most that adds to your decay.

[Exit with the Blind Lady.

FINIS.

§

§

[Page]

The Fourth Book of VIRGILL. Of the Loves of DIDO and AENEAS.

The Argument.

In Love's ungentle Flames

Dido

Eliza fries,

With her Resolves a guilty Storm complies.

Aeneas, warn'd by Joves

Mercurie

Cyllenian Mate,

Prepares for flight, and Dido for her fate.

A Funerall Pile she raises, and bestows

At once a Fate upon her self and woes.

BUT, long before, the Queen had in her veins

Nourish'd Love's wounds, and fed concealed flames.

Much on his person, and his generous kind

She thought, much on the vertues of his mind.

[Page] His charming Image fixes in her breast,

And cares now banish once-enjoyed rest.

Th'ensuing day, when Phoebus newly spread

His beams, and moist shades from Aurora fled;

The Love-sick Queen thus to her Sister said:

My Anna, of what dreams am I afraid?

What guest is this with unaccustom'd charms?

How noble in his Soul? how brave in Arms?

I'think (nor vainly) he's of heavenly kind;

'Tis fear that argues a degenerate mind.

What various fates he told, with Battles mixt!

VVere it not in my breast for ever fix'd,

Never the Marriage Fetters more to prove,

Since so deceiv'd by fate of my first Love;

Did I not loath those Rites a second time,

I might perhaps yield to this tempting crime.

For I confess, since (slain by fratricide)

Sichaeus fell, whose blood the Altars di'd,

Her husband slain by her own brother Pigmalion.

This onely has enclin'd my thoughts; again

I feel impressions of an antient flame.

But may the earth first snatch me to her womb,

And to the shades Jove's Thunder whirle me down;

To Hell's dark shades whose night admits no fate,

E're shame and vertues rites I violate.

He who first made my heart Love's sacrifice,

Still has it, in his grave it buried lies.

This said, a shower of falling tears appear.

Anna replies, Dear sister, and more dear

[Page] Then Light it self, shall grief thy youth destroy,

VVithout the Crown of children, or the joy

VVhich Venus for her Votaries prepares?

Can dust shut up in graves, or Ghosts have cares?

Grant you were she, whose cold breast did disdain,

The Lybians and the great

King of the Numidians.

Hiarba's flame,

And Africans made rich by vanquish'd foes;

VVill you as well, all Love's soft charms oppose?

Think where we now inhabit, who dwells round;

Getulians here with conquest alwaies crown'd,

Here savage desarts your Dominions bound,

There the wild Barceans; what need I relate

The VVars, that on thy Brother's furie wait?

Sure the kind gods upon our shores at last,

By an obliging storm these Trojans cast.

VVhat Citie shalt thousee? thy Kingdom too

Shall to this match enlarged fortune owe,

VVhen Trojans with our Arms their Swords shall joyn,

In what rich glories shall the Punicks shine!

Go, and oblige the gods by sacrifice,

Thy guest by kindnesse; all delays devise,

Whilst Winter rages, and the stormy Star

Their Navy shakes, the sky dispos'd to war.

"These words the sparks of love now kindled more,

"And enthron'd hope where blushes dwelt before.

First, at the Altars heaven's peace they sought,

With Sheep selected, slain as custom taught,

To Ceres, Phoebus, Bacchus, above all,

To Juno, carefull of the Marriage thrall.

[Page] The fair Queen's hand a full-crown'd Bowl adorns,

Who pours the Wine 'twixt a white Heifer's horns.

Still on the fatted Shrine an Offering lies,

And day seems young renew'd with Sacrifice;

Consulting scarce the life-forsaken breast,

Which panting entralls faintly yet exprest.

"Unknowing minds of Priests! alas, what ease

"Can Temples bring? Can frantick Vows appease

"A flame, which life and blood still fuell gives,

"And in whose breast the wound in silence lives?

Unhappy Dido burns, and wanders round

The City, frantick, as a Hind, whose wound

From a far off the unsuspected Swain

Gives ignorantly, who strives to flie her pain,

Through the Dictaean Forrests, wing'd with fears,

Yet still her side the fatall Arrow bears.

Now with Aeneas round the walls she goes,

Her City and Sidonian-treasure shows.

About to speak, her words stick in the way;

Now Feasts prepares to end the wasting day.

Again (distracted) asks to hears Troy's fate,

And on his moving lips her eyes still wait.

All now take leave, and the Moon's paler light

Shines out, declining Stars soft sleeps invite;

Whilst she alone her sorrows entertains,

And flung, on his forsaken bed remains;

Thinks still she hears him speak, and in despight

Of absence, alwaies fancies him in sight;

Or in her arms his son and likenesse takes,

To try if Love could lessen by mistakes.

[Page]

Now the late-rising Towers neglected stand,

The youth and fortresses alike unman'd.

All great beginnings interrupted lye,

And walls before which promis'd to be high.

When Juno saw her languish in a flame,

Whose fury shrunk not at opposing fame,

Venus with haste she finds; and thus then saies,

You, and your Boy, will purchase glorious praise,

And spoils as ample as your powers, when fame

Shall tell; Two gods one woman overcame.

Nor am I blinded so, but it appears,

The walls of rising Carthage cause your fears.

But why these quarrells? rather let them cease

In Hymen's bonds, wrapt in eternal peace.

Your wishes all are crown'd in Dido's flames,

Which fill, instead of bloud, her burning veins;

With equall power and kindnesse let us sway,

These severall Nations, let her too obey

A Phrygian Lord, and unto thy desire,

Submit the Tyrians, and the wealth of Tyre;

To her, (for she perceiv'd a crafty mind

Sent all these words, by which she had design'd

To Lybian shores th' Italian crown to joyne)

Venus replies, Who is it will decline

What you propose? or is so void of sense,

To chuse to have with you a difference?

If the fates yield to your propos'd intents,

(But varying fates I fear) if Jove consents;

That Troy and Carthage should as one be joyn'd,

The mingled Nations too by leagues combind;

[Page] You that enjoy his breast, 'tis just that you

Attempt his mind, I'le second what you do.

The Queen of Heaven then replies, That toil

And labour shall be mine; A little while,

I aske you now to hear, whilst I lay down

The means; which our designes at last may crown.

Aeneas, with the wretched Queen prepares,

In woods and hunting to divert their cares;

When the next rising Sun gives day a birth,

And with his raies shews the unvailed earth;

Upon the Hunters, whilst the game's pursu'd,

A storm, sweld big with hail, in blacknesse brew'd,

Its fury shall discharge; at the same time,

The Heavens to the storm shall Thunder joyn.

Th' affrighted Hunters all shall take their flight,

Confus'd in darknesse, as if lost in night.

The Prince and Queen shall flye for shelter too

Into one Cave, if we receive from you

Your promis'd aid, there Hymen being by,

Wee'l make her thy perpetuall Votary.

Fair Cytherea, finding her designes,

Smiles, and, in shew, to what she ask't inclines.

In the mean time, the Sun the briny streams

Of Neptune leav's, the youth rise with his beams.

And forth the toyl's, and well-nos'd hounds are brought,

With spears, whose tops were round with Iron wrought.

Next marching forth, Massylian troops are seen,

The Punick Princes all expect their Queen.

[Page] Who, slower than the rest, forsakes her bed,

Whilst her proud horse stands r [...]chly furnished

In purple; on which Gold in windings flow's,

Champing his bitt, in foam his mettall show's.

At length, attended by a noble train,

Clad in a rich Sydonian robe she came.

Her quiver gold, her hair too weaved lies

In gold, and gold her purple garments ties.

The Phrygians next advance, and before these

Ascanius came, whom youthfull hopes did please

Of promis'd sport; with these Aeneas joyns,

And all the troop in charming looks out-shines.

As when cold Lycia, and where Xanthus flowes,

Apollo leav's, his visits now bestowes

Upon his native Delos, where again,

The Driopes and Cretans fill his train.

With Agathyrsians, whom strange colours dye,

And in wild motions round the Altars flye,

VVhilst he upon the top of Cynthus goes,

His flowing hair, soft laurell-wreaths inclose;

Through which the weaved gold its lustre flung,

And at his back, his ratling Quiver hung.

"Nor did Aeneas looks admit an odds,

"But with his lustre equalled the gods?

VVhen new these troops unto the hills arrive,

And beat the unfrequented shades, they drive

VVild goats from their high holds, and wing'd with fear,

On t'other side rush down vast heards of Deer.

But young Ascanius in the vales employes

Himselfe, and in his horse's fiercenesse joyes.

[Page] Now vi [...]s with these, now others leaves behind,

And wanting beasts to chase, wishes to find

A chasing Boar o're-spread with rage and foam,

Or from the hills to see a Lion come.

Whilst thus he wish't, lowd murmurs fill the skie,

Follow'd by storms of hail, the hunters flie

For severall shelters, whilst amazed sight

From mountains tops sees Rivers take their flight.

The Queen and Trojan Prince, seeking to save

Themselves from storms, meet in one fatall cave,

The earth first shook, and Juno gave the signe,

And at such rites ungentle flashes shine.

While, through the conscious aire, the Marriagesong,

VVas howls of Nymphs, which from the mountains rung.

This day first usher'd death, and from this day,

Misfortunes took their birth, nor did she weigh

Her present act, or think of future fame,

Nor could this amorous theft beget a shame;

She cal'd it marriage, with a fond designe,

Believing in the name to hide the crime.

But quickly now that slighted fame took wings,

And all the newes through Lybian Cities flings.

Unto ill fame compar'd, swift things are sloath,

For as it flies, it gathers strength and growth;

Fear keeps it low at first, but free from dread,

Quickly in clouds, hides its aspiring head.

To Caeus, and Enceladus, the earth

Brooded on by the rage of gods gave birth

[Page] Unto this sister last, than winds more fleet;

Swift in her wings, and not lesse swift in feet.

A horrid and strange monster as she flyes,

Under her feathers hides an hundred eyes,

As many mouths, nor furnisht lesse with ears,

As many tongues to tell the tales she hears.

When night has spread her shades through heaven she flies,

Nor has soft sleep the power to close her eyes,

By day; where poor and great men live she sits,

And with her tales gives Citties shaking fits:

The false and true alike to people brings,

With equall joy things done and undone sings.

Of Troy's great Prince she quickly did report,

How entertaind in Dido's breast and court,

Unmindfull of their Crowns, ruld now by lust,

The winter spent in passions too unjust.

Among the rest to whom she spread this Fame,

It quickly unto King Hiarbas came.

The storie rais'd his furie, who was son

To Jove, from ravisht Garamantis sprung.

An hundred Temples he to Jove had rais'd,

As many shrines where constant fires still blaz'd.

The Gods perpetuall watch, th'enriched ground,

With blood, th'entrances with garlands crown'd,

The bitter news rage and distraction brings;

To fill his breast, who in his fur [...]e flings

Before the Altars of the gods, and there

With raised hands sends this disputing pray'r;

[Page] Great Jove, to whom, on beds that richly shine,

We Moors indulge our feasts with sparkling wine,

Seest thou these things? or shall we free from fright

See the dark air with sudden flashes bright?

And dreadlesse at thy winged lightnings flame

Or slighted Thunders, find our fears were vain?

A wandring woman on our shores that pay'd

For leave and place to live on, and obey'd▪

Our laws, dares now despise our marriage bed,

For one Aeneas to her Kingdom fled.

This Paris with his troope that scarsly are

Like men, in their soft robes and perfum'd hair,

Enjoys my passion's object, whilst we raise

In vain to thee our offerings and our praise.

Whilst thus expostulating-pray'rs he fent,

Holding the Altars still, th' Omnipotent

To Carthage turns his eyes, where passion's flame

Had in the Lovers burnt the thoughts of Fame.

Then calling Mercurie he thus begins,

Go son, call Zephyrus and on thy wings,

Haste to the Trojan Prince, who idly s [...]ays

In Carthage, and contemns in his delays

Crowns which were promis'd him by Fate and Time,

Swift as a thought bear him these thoughts of mine.

His beauteous mother never promis'd me

Such things as these, nor for this cause was he

Twice from the Grecians free'd, but that there may

One spring from Teucer, Italy to sway

So big with War and Empires; and to give

Laws, under which th'obliged World should live.

[Page] But if such praise cannot his mind enflame,

Nor toils be pois'd with weight of endlesse Fame,

Why does he hinder from Ascanius brows

The Roman Crown? What is it hope allows,

Whilst thus with foes (delaying) he remains?

Neglects Ausonia, and Lavinian plains?

Bid him to sea, go tell him what I say.

The ready god prepares streight to obey

His mighty Father's will, and first he ties

Wings to his feet; born upon which he flies▪

Through air, and o're the earth, and liquid plain,

Swift as the motion of a rapid flame.

Then takes his rod; whose call ghosts from below

Obey, by the same power others go

Unto those dismall shades, sleep comes and flies

As he appoints; and closes dying eyes.

Th'enraged winds swell as he dyes along,

And drive the troubled clouds into a throng.

Now Atlas views, as on his wings he fled,

Approaching heaven with his aspiring head,

Batter'd with winds and storms, with tall Pines crown'd,

And still with sable clowds envellop'd round:

His shoulders prest with undissolved snow,

And from the old man's Chin swift rivers flow

In rushing cataracts, in frozen ties

His horrid beard bound up severely, lies.

Here first with equally unmoving wings

Cyllenius stays himself, thence headlong flings.

[Page] Along the shores a bird thus swiftly glides

Close on the surface of the swelling tides;

So from high Atlas-top Cyllenius flies

'Twixt heaven and earth, where sandie Lybia lies.

When first on Carthage-plains his winged feet

Took rest, his eyes as soon Aeneas meet

Raising new Towers; on his thigh there hung

A shining sword, a Tyrian garment flung

Over his shoulders, where the gold did wave

In glittering rings, which Dido made and gave.

When with these words the god invades his car,

Dost thou for Carthage lay foundations here,

And rai [...]est Cities, now uxorious grown,

Seeking strange Crowns, unmindfull of thine own?

He who o're all th'immortall gods bears sway,

And whom the people of the earth obey,

Commanded me to ask, What vain design

Stays thee in Lybia, idly losing time?

If so much glory cann't thy mind inflame,

Nor toils be pois'd with weight of endless fame;

Let not Ascartus suffer by thy crime,

To whom the Fates th'I [...]alian Crown design.

Thus having spoke Cyllenius takes his flight,

And in the air slides from enquiring sight.

Amaz'd Aeneas stands, in h [...]rror ti'd,

VVith stifned hair, his voice and words deni'd,

Now burns to leave the place but lately priz'd,

So by the god commanded and advis'd,

VVhat should he do? how venture to relate

This change to her that was so passionate?

[Page] His mind travails through-thoughts as in a trance,

And snatch'd with every various circumstance,

Till every thought to this submission gave.

Then Mnestheus and Sergestus, with the brave

Cloanthus, he does call; with silent care

Bids them the Navy and their Arms prepare,

And draw their Forces to the Ocean side;

But with a feigned cause the true to hide.

In the mean space (whilst Dido little thought

Their loves were to so near a period brought)

He pays his visits, and neglects no time,

All his addresses fits for his designe,

VVith all the art of softest words, whilst they

VVith gladnesse do their Princes will obey.

But the fair Queen (for who can long deceive

A Lover?) quickly did the fraud perceive,

And from the present makes her future ghesse;

VVhat ever seems most safe, fears not the lesse.

The same ungentle Fame the news now brings

To sad Eliza, who now madly flings

Thorough the City, passion so excites

The wretched Queen, like Thyas at those Rites

VVhen first the Orgyes stir, and Bacchus name

Cythaeron loudly does in night proclaim.

At length unto Aeneas thus she saies,

Hast thou design'd all these dissembling ways?

Could there, false man, be so much ill in thee,

In silence to have fled this place and me?

Cannot my love, that love, which I so late

Plighted to thee, nor my approaching fate,

[Page] Oblige thy stay; but among Winter-waves

To thrust thy Navy, whilst the North-wind raves.

What if you never sought an unknown Land,

And antient Troy did in its lustre stand;

Must needs that Troy, through Billows swelling high,

Be sought with Navies? Is't not me you flie?

By thy receiv'd right hand, and by these tears,

(Now nothing else at my command appears)

By our young Loves, if ever I was thought

To merit, or to thee a pleasure brought:

Pitty a falling state, change thy hard mind,

I beg, if prayers yet a place can find.

For thee, the Lybians, and Numidian King,

With Tyrians, will on me their malice fling.

For thee, my early and unspotted fame

Is lost, which once to Heaven bore my name.

To what am I now dying left? Ah guest,

In that, all Hymen's Titles now must rest.

But why do I delay? Is it to see

My Brother ruine all? or till I be

Led captive by Hyarbas? If I might

Have had a young Aeneas ere thy flight,

That onely might to me present thy look,

I should not fancy I were quite forlook.

This said, forewarn'd by Jove within his breast,

With eyes still fix'd his troubles he supprest.

At length replies, Fair Queen, I cann't deny

Your words or merits, nor shall ever I

Unwillingly admit Eliza's name

Unto my thoughts, whilst life inspires this frame.

[Page] Thus much I onely say, I never tri'd,

Or hop'd dissemblingly my flight to hide.

Nor did I promise ever to be thine,

Or hither came with such a fond designe.

Would Fate permit, my will should now dispose

My life, and as I pleas'd my cares and woes;

Troy and its Princely Palaces should shine,

As once it did, rais'd by this hand of mine.

But Phoebus now and Lycian Lots decree,

That I should fix my love on Italy.

If you, that from Phoenicia took your birth,

Affect this Carthage, and the Lybian earth;

VVhy should it now appear more strange, that we,

Though Trojans born, should seek for Italy?

The justice is the same. As often too,

As the dark night its humid shades does throw,

O're the hid world, and Stars begin to rise,

My Father's Ghost does threaten and advise.

Unjust to dear Ascanius too I prove,

He wants a Crown, whilst here I idly love.

Now Mercury from Jove was sent (I swear

By both our heads) who through the yielding air

Brought his commands, apparent light and clear,

Shew'd me the god, and I his voice did hear.

Cease then to wound with these complaints of thine,

Since, though I go, 'twas not my own design.

This said, she turn'd her long averted sight,

Fix'd upon him, her eyes then took their flight,

And silently on every object gaz'd;

At length she spoke, to height of passion rais'd.

[Page]

Per [...]idious man! Nor Dardan could begin

Thy race, or couldst thou from a goddesse spring;

But bred on rocky Caucasus, thou first

Wast by Hir [...]anian Tygers udders nurst.

For why should I dissemble? should belief

Betray me to more woe? See if my grief

Has rais'd one sigh, or does his eyes encline

To be o're-come in tears to pitty mine.

Where should I first complain? my miseries,

Nor Jove nor Juno sees with equall eyes.

Faith is unstedfast still, fond woman's haste!

In want I found what I in plenty plac'd.

His Friends and Navy did by me return

From d [...]ath to life, Ah in what flames I burn?

Now Lot's, Apollo now, now from above

Cyllenius brings the harsh commands of Jove.

'Tis likely that the gods should from our cares,

Receive such trouble, and proportion theirs.

I neither stay you, nor your words deny,

Seek through the waves and wind for Italy.

I hope (if gods be great as well as good)

That thou shalt drink (drown'd in the rocky Flood)

Revenge's draught, and calling still on me,

Though absent, yet in flames I'le follow thee.

And when cold death shall cease this vitall heat,

My ghost unwelcome visits shall repeat.

And all thy woes obliging Fame shall tell,

To my pleas'd ears when I with shadows dwell.

At this abruptly stops her words, and flies,

Sick of the light, and weary of mens eyes,

[Page] Leaving him fix'd with fears, and in delay,

Confus'd in all, preparing much to say.

Whilst she sinks to the earth on which she fled,

Carried by servants to a Marble-bed.

Though the just Prince enclin'd to give relief,

And to divert with words her powerfull grief,

Shook in his breast, where sighs and love did meet;

Yet he obeys the gods, and views his Fleet.

The Trojans throng, while launch'd from the shore's side,

The 'nointed Vessells now on Billows ride;

Carrying their Oars aboard, and Oak not quite

Brought into form, so carefull in their flight.

All from the City throng, as toyling Ants,

Treasure a Heap, remembring Winter's wants.

The black Troop through the verdant grasse makes way,

And in a narrow road their stores convay;

Some bear the corn, the laziest of the Swarm

Others excite, and every place grows warm.

What were thy thoughts now Dido at this sight,

And what sad sighs did from thy breast take flight?

Hearing such noise, and seeing from above

The shores grow warm with crowds. (Ungentle Love!)

What is't thou canst not us compell to do?

Again shee's forc'd in tears and prayers to woe.

No thought to Love obedience now deni'd,

Left dying, she had left a way untri'd.

Seest thou not, Sister, how they all repair

Down to the shores, and the ungentle air

Seems too to court their sails, the joys resound

From Sea-men, all their Vessells ready crown'd.

[Page] Had I but thought that such a woe could be,

I might have born it then; for, wretched me,

This one thing do, (for that false man alone

Seem'd kind to thee, to thee his thoughts made known

The time, & how to soften words you know,

Go and petition this insulting foe.

I never swore the Trojans to destroy,

Or did assist, or sent my ships to Tray;

Or yet disturb'd his Father's dust and ghost,

Why are my words to his clos'dears thus lost?

Ah! whither does he flie? let his hard breast

Grant but a wretched Lover's last request.

Let him but stay till he may safely flye,

Till neither winds grow lowd, or waves grow high.

I beg not now again his broken vows,

Or of the Latium Crown to rob his Brows:

I beg but time my passions to reprieve,

Till my hard fate has taught me how to grieve.

This last request I make, if pitty find

A power in your breast; my gratefull mind

Shall onely lose the memory in death.

Whilst tears she spent with this imploring breath,

To him, and back again, the wofull tales

Her Sister bears, but nothing now prevails;

Soft charming words had lost their power, oppos'd

By Fate, the god his gentler ears had clos'd.

An aged Oak so long had stood the blast

Of Alpine Boreas, now is this way cast,

Now that, whilst with the clamoring winds he strives,

Which to the earth th'assaulted branches drives;

[Page] The root yet fix'd, for what above appears,

So much below the earth's embraces bears.

So every way her words the Hero prest,

Shook by her cares within his mighty breast.

But his firm mind unshaken still appears,

And she, in vain, now spends her stock of tears.

Th' unhappy Queen, whom all these fates affright,

Now wishes death, and hates to see the light.

That too which added to these sad desires,

VVhilst on the Altars in perfumed fires,

She paies her gifts, the sacred wine no more,

Retains its looks, but turns black clotted gore.

This horrid change was to no eye reveal'd,

And from the trusted sister too conceal'd.

Besides, there stood a marble Temple, made

To her first love, to which she alwayes paid

An honour'd kindnesse, alwayes too deck't round

VVith verdant wreaths, and snowie fleeces crown'd;

From whence she thought, she heard Sichaeus call.

And when the night had spre'd her vaile o're all,

The fatall Owle that perching place still seeks,

And sends out long and death-presaging shreeks.

The Priests before had threatned sad extreams,

The cruell Prince still visits her in dreams.

Alwayes she seems alone, and wandring strayes,

Seeking her subjects in forsaken wayes.

So Pentheus saw with his distracted sight,

Furies in troops, at once two Suns gave light.

One Thebes two Cities shew'd, or on the stage,

As wild Orestes flyes his mothers rage.

[Page] VVith blazing brands, and with black serpents arm'd,

VVhilst in the gate, revenging furies swarm'd?

Vanquish't with grief and passion in extreams,

She now resolves to dye, the time and means

Closely designes, nor could her thoughts appear,

Her looks were all compos'd serene and clear.

To her afflicted Sister then she goes,

And with these words, her mind seems to disclose.

Come share with me the joy of my designe,

That shall restore his love or banish mine.

Neer to the setting Sun and Oceans end,

A part of Aethiopia does extend.

VVhere mighty Atlas on his shoulders bears

The glittering load of all the starry sphears.

Thence, (a Massylian born) a Priestesse came,

That kept the Dragon and th'Hesperian Fane;

Who also did the sacred branches keep,

With hony and with poppy causing sleep.

She could with charms enthralled minds set free,

And others bind with the same cruelty.

Stars would retire, swift streams no longer run,

And from the graves, the cal'd up spirits come,

The earth mens frighted ears with howlings fills,

And the tall Oks seem walking from the hills.

VVitnesse you gods, and my dear life, that now

Unwillingly to Magick arts I bow.

Go, in the inner Court erect a pyle,

Bring the man's sword, and garments, now his spoile.

Lay all the Impious left upon that bed,

VVhere I to ruine was by passion led.

[Page] For so the Priestesse every thing design'd,

Of a false man should dissolution find.

This said, on her still lips a palenesse rose,

And yet her sister did not then suppose

Under pretence of charms she meant to find

Her fate, or that such fury rul'd her mind;

Or fear'd a crueller effect, or crosse,

From any cause, than from her Husbands losse.

She therefore hastens to obey; the while,

The Queen within the Court doth raise a pile

Of pines and cloven Oaks, adorned round

VVith lights; with wreaths and funerall Cypresse crown'd.

And on this pile the fatall bed convaid,

On which his garments and his sword she laid.

With these, plac't his effigies too, Alas,

Too knowing now of what would come to passe!

All this begirt with Altars, with loose hair,

The Priestesse sends to many gods her pray'r

To Spirits, and inhabitants below,

To Cynthia, and to triple Hecate too.

Sprinkling feign'd dew, as from Avernus brought,

Herbs cut with brazen Sythes, by Moon-shine sought.

With poyson brew'd, from the Colts brow they tare

The much lov'd bit of the prevented mare.

The Queen with gifts, hard by the Altar stands,

Her garments loose, one foot releast from bands.

And dying now, her last appeal does send,

To Gods and Planets, conscious of her end.

If any Power most with care survaies

Loves too unequall bonds, to them she prayes.

[Page]

T'was night, and wearied limbs with toils opprest,

Did in becalming sleep's embraces rest.

The winds were hush't, the waves no longer sweld,

And time the equall scales of midnight held.

The earth's and air's inhabitants, in dreams

VVere lock't, and scaly troops affecting streams.

All in obliging sleep receiv'd their shares,

Their hearts insensible of toils or cares.

But the unhappy Queen sleep's charms denies,

Passion possest her breast, and tears her eyes.

Her cares increase, her love to fury grows,

And storms of anger with her passion rose.

Then to her selfe, raises this sad discourse;

What shall I do? shall I go seek remorse

Of slighted lovers? or beg to be priz'd,

By that Hiarbas whom I once despis'd?

Or shall I flye after the Trojan sails,

With whom the sense of kindnesse so prevails?

Or were I willing, would they give me leave;

Or a scorn'd thing in their proud ships receive?

Lost wretch! see'st thou not falsenesse fix't upon

The perjur'd race of false Laomedon?

What then, shall I alone these men pursue,

Or let the armed Tyrians follow too?

And those which hardly once from Tyrus came,

Shall I perswade to go to Sea again?

No, no, 'tis only death is fit for thee,

Let his sword end thy life and misery.

Thou sister, first (yet with my weeping prest)

Didst help this enemy into my brest.

[Page] Why might not we like wild beasts alwayes live,

And know no cares that love and passion give?

Then, not oblig'd, I had not been unjust,

In forgot-kindnesse to Sichaeus dust.

Such great and sad complaints denied her rest,

In troops assaulting now her broken brest.

Sleep then did on the Trojan Prince prevail,

Who in his tall ship lay prepar'd to sail.

To whom, Jove's messenger appears once more,

Repeates the warnings that he gave before;

(In voice and every thing like Hermes show'd,

His youth the same, his shining hair so flow'd.)

Thou heavenly-born, Canst thou soft sleep admit,

Not sensible what dangers threaten yet?

Nor yet discernest how the prosperous gales,

With gentle invitations court thy sails?

She now, since death is her resolv'd designe,

Guided by rage, stops at no fraud or crime.

Fly whilst thou may'st, left thou seest vessells swarm,

On troubled waves, and shores with flames grow warm

If by this Land, you wait approaching day,

Then put an end unto this dull delay.

The minds of women never yet were fix't:

This said, with nights dark shades himself he mixt.

No sooner now this mighty Vision ends,

But straight Aeneas, rows'd himselfe and friends;

Urging them on, to hasten from those shores,

VVith haste to spread their sails, and ply their Oars.

[Page] A God sent from above came to exile,

And with Commands, to hasten too our flight.

VVhich of the gods so e're thou art, we flye

As thou direct'st, ob [...]ying chearfully.

Be thou still pleas'd to guide us and protect,

And every star propitiously direct.

This said, his shining sword draws from his side,

And cuts the Cable which his vessell ty'd,

The rest with equall haste repeat his deed,

And quickly from the shores their vessells freed.

Much of the Sea with ships was cover'd now,

Forcing white furrows on its blewish brow.

Now on the earth, the first bright message fled

Of fair Aurora's leaving Tithon's bed.

VVhen first the Queen saw the approaching light,

VVith it the empty port, the ships in flight:

Her breast, where yet so many beauties were,

She fills with stroaks, and tears her shining hair.

Then cries, O Jupiter, shall he thus flye,

And fix on us so great a mockery?

Are none yet arm'd, no Ships yet thrust from shores?

Pursue with flames, bring sails, employ your Oars;

VVhat do I talk of, or where am I now?

VVhat rage, and impious fancies I allow?

Unhappy Queen, these thoughts should have born sway,

Before thy Scepter thou hadst it flung away.

Behold his faith, who yet they say before,

His Countries gods through all his travails bore!

VVho on his shoulders bore his fathers weight,

Prest too with age, declining to his fate.

[Page] Cannot I throw his scatter'd limbs to waves,

And give his friends too such unpittied graves?

Might not Ascanius perish by my sword,

Then dish the Boy up to his fathers board?

Th' event of War is doubtfull: be it so,

The dying sure never needs fear a foe.

Swift flames among their ships I should have flung,

In which at once, the father and the son

Should have been lost, and in the same designe,

With their sad fates, I would have mingled mine.

Thou Sun that seest all things, that mortalls do!

Thou Juno, conscious of my passions too:

And Hecate, whose howls fills night and wayes,

You furies too, hear what Eliza pray's

The last her dying lips ever designes!

Let your revenge be great, as are their crimes.

If such an impious man, must safely find

Through seas, places and Lands for him design'd,

If this be fates unalterable doom,

Let him among a warlike people come

Vext still with such, driven from place to place,

And snatch't from his Ascanius lov'd embrace.

Still begging aid, let objects for his eyes

Be still his wretched friends sad obse [...]uies.

And when dishonour'd peace shall all unite;

Let him enjoy neither his Crown nor Light:

But fall before his day, the sand his grave,

The god's these prayers with my blood shall have.

And you, O Tyrians, in your hate be just,

Let that be still a tribute to my dust.

[Page] Never let Love oblige, nor League make tyes,

And from our loyns may some revenger rise,

That on the Dardan race, may pay these scor's,

With fire & sword; may shores contend with shores,

Billow's with waves, and armies against arms,

And all his race parish in civill harms.

This said, her crowdes of thoughts were now at strife,

Which way to rid her selfe of hated life.

Then to Sichaeus nurse her selfe addrest,

(Her's in her native grave enjoyed rest)

Thus said, Dear nurse, my sister hither bring,

First having hath'd her body in a spring,

And with her bring the Sacrifice design'd,

And you your head with sacred fillers bind.

For Pluto's rites I'le end, with them my woe,

Whilst on the Dardans funerall pile I throw

His Image, to the flames ungentle rage.

This said, the nurse's gate shew'd haste and age.

But wing'd with horrid fancies Dido flyes.

Unto her fate, rolling her bloody eyes.

In her sair cheeks, sad looks possest the room.

And palenesse of that death that was to come.

Thorough the Inner Court her stops she bends,

And furiously the funerall Pile ascends.

Then draws the Dardan' sword, never design'd

For such a horrid use; her eyes next find

His bed, which only now his garments bears.

A little while she paus'd, by thoughts and tears

Shar [...]rs in time delay'd, her selfe then cast

Upon the bed, and thus she spoke her last.

[Page] Dear spoils, whilst gods and fate did so agree!

Receive my life, from cares now set me free.

Here I have liv'd the slave of Fortune still,

Now under earth my shade some place must fill.

A City I have built, reveng'd the fate

Of a lost Husband, and a Brother's hate.

Happy, ah too much happy I had been,

Had never Trojan-Sails my Carthage seen.

This said, she kiss'd the bed, then cries, Must I

Thus poorly fall, and unrevenged die?

But die I must, death onely can give ease,

The thoughts oft'other world alone can please.

Let my last flame blaze in his cruell eyes,

Shook at the Omen, whilst Eliza dies.

This said, she thrust the sword into her breast,

And flowing blood the wretched act exprest.

The lofty Pallace ecehoes now with cries,

And fame through all the shaken City flies:

The roofs resound with womens houls and moans,

And ecchoing aire affected seems with groans.

So it had been, if to an armed Host

The antient Tyre or Carthage had been lost.

And the impartiall flames shewing no odds,

On sinking dwellings both of men and gods.

Her Sister hears, who with a shaking pace,

Beating her breast, arrives unto the place;

Thorough encreasing crowds she rushing came,

Still calling on her dying Sister's name.

Was this thy cruell fraud, was I so prest

For such a Pile? for this were Altars drest?

[Page] What should a wretch so much forsaken do?

Did you scorn, Sister, I should die with you?

Death should have had on both an equall power,

We should have shar'd one grief, one sword, one hour.

These with my hands I rais'd, my prayers fled

To gods, did I compose thee for the dead

To live behind? Thy fate now ruines all,

Thy Sister sinks, and Kingdom in thy fall.

Some water bring that I may bathe the wound,

If any wandring breath may yet befound.

To hers my lips so closely shall be laid,

That it shall find no way but me. This said,

She mounts the Pile, and in her bosom took

Her Sister, yet by breath not quite forsook.

She grieves, yet still attempting all she cou'd,

And with her garments dries away the bloud.

She strives to raise her eyes, by weaknesse prest,

Her eye-lids sinck, the wound gapes on her breast.

Thrice she attempted from the bed to rise,

Thrice roles upon the bed with wandring eyes.

She makes saint s [...]arches now for heavens light,

And groanes, when found by her impairing sight.

But Juno pittying the punishment

Of strugling life, from heaven Iris sent,

To set at freedom hēr delaying breath,

Since neither fate, nor a deserved death

Had caus'd her end, but fell before her time:

Love's passion was alone her fate and crime.

[Page] Nor yet had Proserpine took from her head

Her hair, and enter'd her among the dead.

From heaven then, Iris with dewie wings,

On which the Sun a thousand glories flings,

Flies to her head, This to the dark abode

I bear, and free thee from thy body's load.

She said; then with her right hand cuts her hair,

And her enlarged breath slides into aire.

§

§

[Page]

[Page]

P. PAPINIUS STATIUS, His ACHILLEIS; The First Book.

§

The Argument.

The Rape's committed. Thetis begs in vain

Of Neptune a rough storm to swell the Main.

Then to Aemonia through the Sea she goes,

Thessaly

And visits the lov'd cause of all her woes.

THe great

Achilles, called Aeacides, from Aeac [...] his Grandfather.

Aeacides, my Muse, now sing;

An Issue fear'd by Heavens thundring King.

Much of his acts, though in admired strains,

Great Homer sung; yet much untold remains.

We his first deeds relate, and how conceal'd,

In Scyros by a Trumpet's sound reveal'd.

[Page] Not of dragg'd Hector to his Chariot ty'd,

I sing, but how the Youth to Troy arriv'd.

Thou, Phoebus, (if deserv'd in former layes)

Give me fresh streams, and now with second Bayes

Adorn my brows. For I the hallowed ground

Have known before, with sacred Fillets crown'd:

Witnesse those Theban fields, for which my fame

Shall last, whilst Thebes records Amphion's name.

But

Domitian the Emperor, to whom the Poet addresseth this Complement.

Thou by Greeks and Romans all renown'd,

Both with the wreaths of Mars and Phoebus crown'd.

(Who lately griev'dst from thy contended brow

To lay the gentler one) permit me now

To guide my fearfull pen a little while,

And on the great Achilles acts to toyl,

Till I sing Thine, yet wanting confidence,

And for thy Prelude with his name dispence.

The Trojan Swain, from the Laconian Shoar

Sail'd, and from unsuspecting Sparta bore

A prey, and in his guilty journey showes

His mother's dream fulfill'd, presaging woes.

Upon those streams they sayl, where Helle found

Her fate, yet now among the Sea-gods crown'd.

When Thetis (never yet, alas! in vain

Were parents prophesies) through the clear Main,

Affrighted saw the Phrygian Oars, she fled,

Withall the Sea-Nymphs, from her watry bed.

The almost-meeting Shores heat with the swarm,

And from the throng the crowded waves grew warm.

[Page] When Thetis through the parting Billows rose,

To me she cry'd, This Navy threatneth woes.

What Proteus told, alas! appears too true.

See Priam's kindled flames; the daughter too

Bellona brings! a thousand Ships appear,

Which Ionian and Aegean Billows bear.

All the sworn Greeks whom the Atrides got

Must not suffice: Land, Ocean must be sought

For my Achilles. To what purpose then

Was he on Pelion bred, in Chiron's den?

There with the Lapithites (unlesse I fear

In vain) he fights, and tries his father's Spear.

Ah me! this fear upon my heart prevails

Too late. Why could not I, when first these Sails

Swell'd on my Streams, act what I now would do,

And make a storm the lustfull Thief pursue,

With all the Sea-Nymphs help'd? Storms now will come

Too late; the Rape and Injury is done.

Yet I will go, and all the remedy,

That's left, attempt; I'le move each deity

That rules in Flouds, and beg the Ocean's King

By Tethys, on the waves one storm to fling.

No sooner said, but she the god espy'd,

Who from Oceanus crown'd boards arriv'd.

The chearing Nectar in his looks yet shin'd:

At whose approach, the storms, with every wind,

Were all in silence hush'd; and round by him,

Sounding their wreathed shells, the Tritons swim:

[Page] The shoals of Whales, like moving Rocks, make way,

And round their King, the crooked Dolphines play.

He, rais'd above the quiet Ocean, rides,

And with his Trident his yok'd Horses guides:

They with their crooked tails the Chariot row,

And from their breasts the foaming surges throw.

To whom sad Thetis said, Great Ocean's King,

Dost thou not see thy waves assistance bring

To strange designes? The guilty safely go,

Since Sea's reserved rights were sleighted so

By the bold Jason: His example left

See by these follow'd, both in crime and theft:

And from the friendly shores an unjust prey

By the rash Judge of Ida's born away.

Ah me! what mournings shall this cause to be

In heaven and earth! and what, alas, to me!

Is this a Foster-child's return? This way

Will Venus for her Phrygian Garland pay?

At least o're-whelm these ships, (for in the throng,

No Heroes, nor our Theseus goes along)

If any justice yet in waves can be;

Or else commit the power of storms to me.

Nor is't ungentle, while 'tis just that I

Fear for a child. Let the mad waves swell high:

Nor suffer me from Flouds to take my leave,

Onely by his affected Tomb to grieve.

Thus begging, she before the Chariot stood,

With scattered hair. The Ruler of the Flood

[Page] Invites her up, and strives such words to find,

As might appease her sad afflicted mind.

Ask not their ruine, Thetis: 'tis in vain,

The gods and Fates do otherwise ordain.

Sad years to come with slaughters are decreed

By Jove, Europe and Asia both must bleed.

What triumphs shalt thou have in Phrygian plains,

To see thy son there feed the funerall flames?

When he the Trojan fields shall stain with blood,

And with like slaughters cram the blushing Flood?

Great Hector's weight shall make his Chariot slow,

Those walls we rais'd his hand shall overthrow.

Nor grieve that thou hast stoop'd to Peleus love,

The Son thou hast by him is worthy Jove.

Nor shalt thou unreveng'd for ever mourn,

When they return thy pow'r shall raise a storm:

False flames by night, shall Caphareus then show,

And joynt-revenge wee'l on Ulysses throw;

At this, she hung those looks that did incline,

To raise a storm; and changing the designe

With labouring arms to Thessaly she swims,

And on those shores she rests her snowy limbs.

The mountains joy, with that much loved place,

Where Peleus did the goddesse first embrace;

Above his banks the swel'd Sperchios rose,

Joy'd whilst his stream about the goddesse flows.

She took no joy in all, but still oppress'd

With the sad fancies of her carefull breast.

[Page] Thus fill'd with busie thoughts the goddesse then,

Approacheth to the aged Chirons den;

Under the rock, where Pelion doth encline

Like a bent bow: so wrought by Art and Time.

Still here the signs remain'd, where, at their feasts,

The beds were press'd by the immortall guests,

Which in the stables of the Centaur stood,

Not like the rest of the prodigious brood.

His darts unstain'd with human cruelties,

Never did he with vast subverted trees.

Or massy bowls, disturb the geniall crue,

Only at Beasts, his guiltlesse arrows flew.

But now by age disarm'd, with herbs he tries

To restore life her tired faculties:

Or to Achilles, all the glorious things,

Farn'd Heroes did, upon his harp he sings.

'Gainst whose return from his pursued game,

The boards are crown'd; and with the kindled flame

The cave growes bright, whilst thus he did provide,

Looking for him, his Mother he espy'd.

To her he hasts, (while strength his gladnesse yields)

And trots upon the long unused fields.

To her he bowes his aged Limbs, and then,

Leads the sad goddesse to his humble den.

Her busie eye, that would not be delay'd,

Quickly views all, as soon to Chiron said;

Where is my pledge! or why do you thus trust,

My child alone? Are my sad dreams then just?

[Page] Those dreadfull visions which the gods have set

Before mine eyes, I wish as vain as great.

My breast seems wounded now; my hands, to bear

The signes of strokes; wild beast's, my bosome tear.

And many times I fancy in my dreams,

Again I dip my child in Stygian streams.

With Magick art, at last a way I've got,

To cure my fears, by the kind Proteus taught:

The Youth must be to those fit parts convay'd,

For such desig [...]s, in secret billows laid.

Where horrid sacrifices are to th' hid,

And unknown gods, But more I am forbid.

These rites demand him now: Thus Thetis said:

The aged Chiron else had not obey'd,

If he had known what garments once should hide

The youth. But ignorant he thus repli'd;

Pursue, kind goddesse, this unknown designe:

With humble vows th' ungentle powers encline.

Not thy ambitious prayers can succeed,

To please the envious gods, nor would I breed

New fears in thee; but I confesse my share,

Nor yet deceived by a Father's care:

'Tis his vast strength, that thus procures my fears,

Which shews too early for his tender years.

At first, my threatning words he would obey,

Nor would too farre about the mountains stray.

Not Ossa now, nor Pelion can contain

His wandrings, nor Thessalian feather'd rain.

[Page] To me the Centaurs often make their moan,

Forc't from their Heards, pursu'd by him alone,

Who singly dares with all their troops engage,

Whilst force and fraud they threaten in their rage.

Lately I saw Alcides on this shore,

And Jheseus, whom the Argive ship then bore.

But see, he comes,—At this abruptly staid,

Th' expecting goddesse chilling fears invade.

The Youth arriv'd, loaded with dust and sweat,

And wearied with his arms and labours; yet.

His snowy looks, the rosy blushes stain'd;

His hair the shining Gold with glittering sham'd.

Upon his cheelis no Down yet seem'd to rise:

A gentle lustre in his sparkling eyes

Still shin'd; his face those charming beauties wore,

VVhich his admired Mother had before.

So shews young Phaebus, when he doth retire

From Lycia, and for shafts assumes his lyre.

By chance he came in pleas'd, (O how much more

It added to what was so well before!)

For under Pholoe in a Cave he slew

A Lionesse, and took the young ones too,

Which in his arms he bore. But the lov'd prey,

At his dear mother's sight he threw away;

By Chiron now embrac'd, and then again

Doth in his mother's jealous arms remain;

When streight his dearest friend Patroclus came,

In love and age his equall; and the same

Assay'd in generous Arts to imitate,

Yet short in strength, but shar'd an equall fate.

[Page] The next adjacent stream Achilles seeks,

And with the River cleans'd his sullied cheeks.

So tired Castor in Eurota's streams

Restores his looks, bright as his new Star's beams.

Pleas'd Chiron on his fair proportion stares.

The joy that Thetis took made great her cares.

The Centaur then invites them to his Feast,

And fills Lyaeus to his troubled guest.

His Harp to welcome Thetis he prepares,

Whose charming notes lessen the weight of cares.

And having gently tri'd the warbling strings,

He gives it to Aeacides, who sings.

The acts of Heroes; how great Juno's spleen

Vanquish'd so oft by Hercules had been;

The Victories of Pollux; and how too

The monstrous Minotaur fam'd Theseus slew.

Lastly, great Peleus, and his Mother's love

He sung, the Marriage grac'd by those above.

At this, sad Thetis seem'd to force a a smile.

Night now laid on her heavy charms the while.

Achilles the kind Centaur's shoulder took,

And his affecting Mother's breast forsook.

[Page]

ANNOTATIONS On the first Book of STATIUS his ACHILLEIS.

2. AN issue fear'd by heaven's thundring King.] When Jove sought the marriage of Thetis, he was told by Proteus, that the issue that came from Thetis should exceed the father who begot it: At which, mistrusting his own Omnipotency, he left his Love to keep Heaven. The Fable is thus rendred by the incomparable Sandys, Metamorph. 11.

For aged Proteus thus foretold the truth,

To wave-wet Thetis, thou shalt bear a Youth,

Greater then him from whom he took his birth

In Arms and Fame. Lest any thing on earth

Should be more great than Jove, Jove shuns the bed

Of Sea-thron'd Thetis, though her beauty led

His strong desires: Who bids Aeacides

Succeed his Love, and wed the Queen of Seas.

6. Scyros.] An Island of the Aegean Sea, one of the Cyclades, over against Peloponnesus, (as Strabo, l. 10. relateth) having a Town of the same name; famous most, in being the place where Achilles lived disguised. See Servius and Sabinus on Virgil's Aen. 2.

7. Not of dragg'd Hector, &c.] Statius here proposeth his designe, to sing the acts of Achilles onely from his infancy, which Homer had omitted, justly presenting the death of Hector for all his Victories; whose fate was Troy's ruine. Senec. Troad. v. 185.

[Page]

Aut cùm superbo victor in curru stetit,

Egitque habenas, Hectorem & Trojam trahens.

Or when the Conqueror did his Horses guide,

And Troy which Hector at his Chariot ty'd.

For Achilles having killed him, tied him to his Chariot, and dragged him thrice round the walls of Troy, as Homer, Iliad 22. Which unwelcome sight Aeneas saw painted at Carthage, Virg. Aen. 2. 487.

Ter circum Iliacos raptaver at Hectora muros,

Examinumque auro corpus vendebat Achilles.

Tum verò ingentem gemitum dat pectore ab imo,

Ʋt spolia, ut currus, utque ipsum corpus amici,

Tendentemque manus Priamum conspexit inermes.

About Troy's walls Hector's dead body thrice

Achilles dragg'd, and sold it for a price.

Then from the bottom of his breast he drew

A grief-expressing sigh, his friend to view,

His Spoils and Charior, and how Priam stands

Begging with his erected aged hands.

12. With sacred fillets bound.] These were Ornaments for the Priests heads; in Latine, Vittae. Hence Juvenal Sat. 4. of the Vestall Virgin, Vittat [...] Sacerdos. And Virgil thus presenteth Anius, Aen. 3. 80.

Rex Anius, Rex idem hominum Phoebique Sacerdos,

Vittis & sacra redimitus tempora lauro.

Anius a King and Priest, his Temples bound

With sacred Fillets, and with Lawrel crown'd.

The Title of Priest was antiently conferr'd on Kings, as Casaubon, on Su [...]tonius in Augusto, delivereth from Aristotle, Polit. 3. and Synesius, Epist. 121. by reason that the Government of all Commonwealths consisted in Ecclesiasticall Ceremonies, and Politicall Laws; the care of both which belonged to Kings. Hence Augustus was created chief Priest, that all kinds of power might be in him. And as Servius observeth (on Aen. 3. 80.) the style of Pontifex Max. [Page] was still assumed by the succeeding Emperors; as may also be seen in the Inscriptions of the Caesars at the end of Suetonius, set forth by Schildius 1651. Poets called themselves Phoebus Priests; so Tibullus and Protertius frequently. Hereupon Statius here dresseth himself with Priestly Ornaments.

13. Witnesse those Theban fields, &c.] Our Poet here intimateth his Poem of the Theban-War: So that hence, and by the ensuing Complement to Domitius it is clear, that this was Statius his second Work, and his Silvae the last. To his Thebans, with confidence enough, he here prom [...]seth as lasting a fame, as Thebes could give Amphion the son of Jupiter and Antiope, who having (as Plinie saith, l 7. c. 56.) found out the use of the Harp, handled it so harmoniously, that he made stones come of their own accord to raise the Walls of Thebes. Senec. Theb. act. 4.

—nulla quas struxit manus,

Sed convocatus vocis & citharae sono

Per se ipse turres venit in summas lapis.

Rais'd by no labouring workman's hands, but brings

With his harmonious voice and charming strings

The willing stones together, which compose

Themselves, and into lofty Towers [...]ose.

Some joyne his brother Zethus with him in the businesse. So Palaephatus, who reducing the Fable to a seeming truth, saith, The two Brothers admitted their Auditors to their Musick, on condition, that every one should afford his assistance to the Building. A far truer Mythologie is glanced at by Horace, De arte Poet. v. 391.

Silvestres homines sacer interpresque Deorum

Caedibus & victu foedo deterruit Orpheus,

Dictus ob hoc lenire Tigres rabidosque Leones.

Dictus & Amphion Thebanae conditor arcis

Saxa movere sono restu [...]inis, & prece blandâ

Ducere quò vellet.

Orpheus inspir'd from gods, first rude men brought

From loving blood and slaughters; hence was thought

Fierce Lions and wild Tigers to have tam'd.

And so Amphion with his Harp was fam'd

To raise the Theban walls, and at his choice

To move deaf stones with his admired voice.

So perhaps the Fable arose, from his reducing a savage people to [Page] live under a form of Government; and for their safety (than which, no argument can be more prevalent) perswading them to compasse in their City with a Wall. And herein, in my opinion, he was much more judicious than Lycurgus and Agesilaus, who believed the breasts of valiant Citizens defence enough. And so also thinketh Plato, l. 6. De leg. For these reasons, Orpheus was said to have made wild beasts gentle, and Amphionto have moved stones, that is, men of savage lives and obdurat natures. Macrobius in Somn. Scip. l. 2. c. 3. keepeth closer to the Fable; for setting f [...]rth the excellencies of Musick, he saith, That from it, the Univer [...]all Soul of the world took its originall; and that by it therefore all men, not onely the civill, but the barbarous also, are either animated to ver [...]ue, or dissolved into pleasure; quia anima in corpus defert memoriam Musicae, cujus in caelo fuit conscia; Because the soul, though in the body, still retaineth a memory of that harmony which it enjoyed in heaven. And hence he conceiveth the Fables of Orpheus and Amphion had their Originall. See Clemens Alexandr. Admonit. ad Gentes, p. 2. Amphion's excellency proved his ruine: For contemning Latena, by her revenge he saw all his children slain, and at the last added himself to the number. Sandys Ovid's Metam. l. 6.

For sad Amphion wounding his own breast,

Had now his sorrow with his soul releast.

13. Trojan Swain] This title is usually given to Paris, by reason he was brought up among the shepheards. The story is thus, Hecuba being great with Paris, dreamed, she should bring forth a flame that should consume Troy, Cic. l, 1. de divinat. Whereupon Priam consulted the Oracle; and being told, his Queen should bear a son, who should be the Incendiary of his Country, he gave order the child should be destroyed. But Hecuba desirous to preserve her Infant, conveyed him to mount Ida to be bred up among the shepheards. Where at length, being grown up, he pretended love to Oenone, and made every Tree witnesse of his Amours; as the Nymph is made to complain by Ovid in her Epistle to Paris.

Incisae servant à te mea nomina fagi;

Et legor OENONE falce notata tuâ.

Et quantum trunci, tantùm mea nomina crescunt:

Crescite, & in titulos surgite ritè meos.

Populus est (memini) fluviali confita ripâ,

Est in qua nostrî litera scripta memor

Popule, vive, [...]recor, quae consita margine ripae

Hoc in rugoso cortice carm [...]n habes.

[Page]

CUM PARIS OENONE POTERIT SPIRARE RELICTA,

AD FONTEM XANTHI VERSA RECURRET AQUA.

Xanthe, retre propera, versaeque recurrite Lymphae:

Sustinet Oenonen deseruisse Paris.

My name's preserv'd on every wounded Tree:

Their bark OENONE bears engrav'd by thee.

Whilst they encrease, my names enlarged grow;

To bear those titles may they still do so.

A Poplar grows, where crystall billows glide,

And shews those Letters carved on its side.

Long may it live unprejudic'd by years,

Whose rugged rind this false Inscription bears,

If Paris leave Oenone, yet not die,

Xanthus shall backward to his fountain flie.

Haste back, ye charged Streams, for Paris flies

His lov'd Oenone once, and yet not dies.

His casting off this Nymph was occasioned by the three goddesses repairing to him, about determining their controversie, as Oenone in the following Verses complaineth. Each goddesse endeavoured to bribe the Judge, Juno, by promising him Empire, Pallas, Wiscom; Ʋenus, Pleasure. This last was pronounced the fairest, and went away with the golden Apple: And in requitall, she directeth her Umpire to receive his promised reward in the fair Helen: Whom having seen he loved, and ravished from Sparta, where he had been kindly entertained. Coluthus and others say, He had her consent; b [...]t Seneca, Troad. v. 917. bringeth her on the Stage excusing her self, by pleading Enforcement: And Gorgias, in his defence of Helen, saith, Venus commanded her to suster the Trojan to enjoy her. Others say, that Paris being sent to demand Hesione, the daughter of Laomedon, whom Hercules had carried from Troy, had order given him. That, in case the Greeks refused to deliver her, he should ravish from them whatsoever considerable Lady he could light on. So Dares Phrygius, who reporteth also, That Antenor was first sent to fetch home Hesione, but returned without her; and that all the Grecian Princes deny'd to make any satisfaction. Yet that Hector's advice was not to revenge the Rape, by warring against their potent Confederates. And that afterwards Paris having received that encouragement from Venus, undertook the Voyage; and, by chance, arrived at the Island Cythera, at a time when Helen was there, in a Town bearing her name: Who had no sooner heard of the Trojan [Page] Prince's arrivall, but she had a desire to see him: And so they being both enamoured of one another, Paris took her that night after his arrivall, out of Venus Temple, and brought her with him to Troy. And thus he proved that Fire-brand his mother dreamed of, kindling a flame that burnt Troy to ashes.

24. Laeonian.] The Poets word is Oebalio, from Oebalus a King of [...]aconia, a region of Peloponnesus, bordering on Messenia, Argia, and Arcadia, Strabo lib. 8. Pausanias, in Arcadicis, saith, it is divided from part of Arcadia, by the River Alpbeus▪ In this Country, stood Lacedaemon, on the West side of Eurotas, beneath the Mountain Taygetus: Strabo, l. 8. Polybius, lib. 5. But the proper name of the City was Sparta; Lacedaemon being more commonly used for the Province, so called from a King of that name, who sometimes reigned there, and married Sparta the daughter of Eurotas, whose name the City received. To the Lacedaemonians, Jonathan High Priest of the Jews wrote a Letter; saying, It was found in writing, that the Lacedaemonians and the Jewes were brethren, and that they were of the stock of Abraham, 1 Macc. 12. 21. Joseph, Antiq. l. 13. c. 8.

27. Ʋpon those streams, &c.] i. e. the Hellespont, which is not past eight furlongs over, as Pliny testifieth; About thirty miles below Gallipoli, it is not above half a mile over, as Sir Henry Blunt in his Travels relateth. This Strait parteth Europe from Asia: On Europe's side, standeth Sestus; on Asia's, Abydus, Towns famous by the Loves of Hero and Leander, sung by that sweet Poet, whom Virgil giveth the preminence to, in the Elysian fields, Aen. 6. Leander perished in these streams, yet having his wishes Crowned; as Martiall representeth him in this Epigram.

Cùm peteret dulces audax Leandrus amores,

Et fessus tumidis jam premeretur aquis:

Sic miser instantes affatus dicitur undas,

Parcite dum propero, mergite dum [...].

When bold Leander through the billows sought,

Love's joyes, his arms now almost over-wrought

With waves, he cried, Now spare me gentle Main,

And let me sink as I return again.

But his Hero survived but a while; For the next morning, seeing his dead body floting on the Waves, from the top of her Tower, she threw her self into them. Nor lesse memorable is this narrow Sea, for the bridges of Boats, that Xerxes made over it: The former of [Page] which being broken by a sudden tempest, the vain King scourged the disobedient waves, and cut off the heads of the Workmen; and then caused another to be made with stronger ties, Heredot. P [...]lymniâ. The same Author reporteth of Xerxes, that taking a view of his Land forces, that filled the shores and the plains, and of his Navy, that covered the Hellespont; He sadly wept to think, that within an hundred years, not a man of all that multitude should be living. So many they were, that Juvenal scoffingly said, Sat. 10.

—Credimus altos

Defecisse amnes, epotáque flumina Medo

Prandente, & madidis cantat quae Softratus alis.

Ille tamen qualis rediit Salamine relictâ,

In Corum atque Eurum solitus saevire flagellis

Barbarus, Aeolio nunquam hoc in carcere passos?

Sed qualis rediit? nempe unâ nave cruentis

Fluctibus, ac tardâ per densa cadavera prorâ.

We have believ'd deep Rivers could not find,

Liquor for Xerxes army, while they din'd;

Things sung by Softratus, well drench'd with wine.

Yet he that so return'd from Salamine,

Once scourg'd the winds, because they rudely blew:

Which in th' Aeolian caves they never knew.

But how was his return? In one small boat,

Which could but slowly for dead bodies float.

So Justine, lib. 2. Erat res spectaculo digna, & aestimatione sortis humanae, rerum varietate, miranda; in exiguo latentem videre navigio quem paulò antè vix aequor [...] capiebat. Thus the Hellespont hath the greatest part of its fame, from the misfortunes of two kind Lovers, and one proud Prince; It received its name from Helle, daughter of Athamas, King of Thebes, who fearing the treacheries of her Mother in Law, fled with Phryxus her Brother, and with him was, here drowned. Lucian, Dialogo Neptuni & Nereidum, saith, she fell into the water by reason of a Vertigo that took her on the suddain: And Hesiod, troubled with such another, saith, she was married to Neptune, of whom he begat Paeon.

37. What Proreus told] This was a Sea-God, famous for his prophecying, and for the power he had to change his shape at his pleasure; Ovid Metamorph, l. 2. v. 9. and lib. 8. v. 737. Virgil, Georg. 4. [Page] 388. Hygin. fab. 118. He fore-told Thetis, that her Son should be killed in the Trojan War: Which prophecy gave the argument to the ensuing story. This Proteus was King of Aegypt, Serv. in Aeneid. 11. and, perhaps, got this fame of transforming himselfe by his using, still to alter his temper and disposition, suitably to his affairs and occasions; From the like ground, sprung the fame of Herculeae labours, atchieved with unimitable strength and valour. Proteus was also called Hercules, as Servius affirmeth on that of Virgil, Aen. 11. 262.

Atreides Protei Menelaus ad usque columnas, Exulat.

Those Columnes having been wholly attributed to Hercules, are there set for the bounds of Aegypt.

40. Ionian] Over the Ionian sea, many auxiliaries came to assist the Greeks against Troy. This Sea took its name from Ion son of Dyrrhachius, whom Hercules having by mischance slain, that he might make him some amends by perpetuating his memory, threw him into this Sea; Others alledge different reasons, but none worth setting down: Formerly, as Pausanias saith, it was accounted part of the Adriatick. But Ptolomy, in his description of Macedon, attributeth that part of the Adriatick which washeth Macedonia on the East, to the Ionian. But Pliny, lib. 3. c. 6. more rightly divideth these two Seas, by the Ceraunian, or (as Horace, lib. 1. Carm. Od. 3. v. 20. calleth them) Acroceraunian mountains: From which the Ionian Sea reacheth to the promontory of Malea.

¶ Aegean billows] A Sea between Asia and Greece, full of Islands called Cyclades and Sporades; of as uncertain Etymology, as the Ionian. Most say, it had its name from Aegeus, the father of Theseus: Who going to fight the Minotaur, was charged, if he got the victory, to give notice thereof at his return by a white sail; But he forgetting so to do, his Father, from his Tower seeing the ship coming without the token of successe, gave his Son for lost, and for grief cast himselfe into the Sea. But some derive the name from Aege, a Queen of the Amazons; Strabo, from Aegae, a Sea-Town in Eubaea, Servius in Aen. 3. calleth that the Aegean, which is between the Hellespont and the Adriatick; others, that between the Hellespont, and Tenedus. It is now named the Archipelago.

41. All the sworn Greeks, which the Atrides got] i. e. Menelaus and Agamemnon, called Atridae, from Atreus, their supposed father. But they were indeed the sons of Philisthenes, and onely bred by Atreus [Page] their Uncle; These two Brethren, to revenge the injury done by Paris, having assembled the whole strength of Greece at Aulis, bound them all by an Oath, to see Troy ruined, or never to return, Serv. in Aen. 4. as will also appear in the third book of this Poem. Thucydides, lib. 1. glanceth at the reason of the unanimous consent of the Greeks, to punish the rape of Helen, viz. an Oath by which Tyndarus had obliged all that came Suitors to his daugher, that they should revenge whatsoever wrong should be done to him that should enjoy her; But he rather believeth, that Agamemnon being heir to the houses of Perseus and Pelops, and (as Homer styleth him) King of many Islands, was the chief cause of the Expedition. The account of the ships in this Fleet, is various in severall Authors; D [...]ctys Cretensis maketh them, 1138. Dares, 1140. Homer, 1193. our Author here, with a Poeticall carelessenesse, reckoneth them but 1000. So Seneca, in Agamemnon, and Virgil, Aen. 2.

Talibus insidiis, perjurique arte Sinonis,

Credita res: captique dolis lacrimisque coactis,

Quos neque Tydides, nec Larissaeus Achilles;

Non anni domuêre decem, non mille carinae.

Thus they themselves, made captives by belief

Of Sinon's perjur'd fraud and feigned grief.

Not Diomed, nor Aeacides prevails,

Nor ten years War, nor yet their thousand fails.

Thucydides saith, the number of the Souldiers was not great: But by an indifferent judgement on his own words, the 1200 ships, as he numbreth them, carried 102000 men; a number in my opinion, not to be made so slight of. Some, as Dion Chrysostomus, have made a question, whether there ever was such a War; although it hath employed the pens of Homer, Dares Phrygius, Dyctis Cretensis, Lycephron with his Scholiast, and Josephus Iscanius, and hath been believed by so many Authors in succeeding ages. That a siege should continue ten whole years, seemed ridiculous to some; but Thucydides, lib. 1. initio, giveth a reason for it: Others have conceived, and our late Travellers have also observed, that a potent King could not reign in so inconsiderable a place. Neither do the ruines give testimony of an ample and famous City; And though there never were such a War, yet is it not to be wondred at, that so many have reported it, and that more have believed it: since the report of false-hoods, especially, when favoured by an antient penne, [Page] gaineth belief, either because it cannot be disproved, or because the crediting of it saveth pains. Besides, things are seldome examined or disputed, where interest is not concerned.

44. On Pelion bred, in Chiron's den] Pelion is a mountain of Thessaly, in the Territory of Magnesia, joyning to the mountain Ossa: Herodot. lib. 7. In mount Pelion, was the Cave of Chiron; who (as the rest of the Centaurs) was like an Horse behind, but forward like a Man: S. Ifidore, lib. 4. holdeth that he was so represented, quia medicinam jumentorum quidam Chiron Graecus invenit, because he found out medicines for beasts. And he was named Chiron, [...], because he was a Chirurgion; Suidas saith, he was the son of Ixion, and the Cloud, as the others Centaurs also were: whom Virgil, Aen. 6. placeth in Stables in hell. But he is generally said, to have been the son of Saturn, and Phillyra: So Pindar, Pyth. od. 4. And Virgil, lib. 3. Georg v 550. ‘Phillyrides Chiron.’ according to the custom of the Greeks, who were wont to give the Parent's names to the children; Servins, on the place affirmeth the same: This Chiron, the justest of all the Centaurs, as Statius representeth him, was Master not onely to Achilles, but to Hercules also, Jason, Aesculapius, Castor, and others, (Apollon. Argonaut. lib. 3.) Hermippus styleth him, [...] Centaurum sapientem, in Clemens Alexandrinus, Strom. lib. 1. He first taught men to love justice, shewing the sacred Rites of the gods, the figures and natures of the heavenly bodies; His reputation was so great, that some of the Achaians sacrificed to him, as Eusebius writeth, lib. 4. Prepar. Evang. citing Monimus, [...]. A poysoned arrow of Hercules, by chance wounding Chiron's foot, he desired death, but could not obtain it, being the issue of immortall parents; At last, Jupiter advanced him to be a signe in Heaven, called Sagittariks.

Armatúsque arcu Chiron.

Virgil, de XII Signis. So Seneca, Thyest. act. 4: Lucian, in his Dialogue between Menippus and Chiron, maketh Chiron give another reason, Why he was out of Love with immortality here; Because this life wanteth variety, and is nothing but the repetition, and doing again and again, of the same things: And he promised himselfe in the other World, to be free from Thirst and Hunger, and whatsoever begetteth care. And though Lucian maketh Menippus advise the Centaure, not to feed himselfe with hopes of that nature; [Page] yet we may have a better opinion of his wishes, having more knowledge of the joys of the next life, and enough of this to be of Plutarch's mind, Consolat. ad Apollonium.

Terra malis scatet, adversis pelagusque redundat.

O Mors, veni nostris certus medicus malis,

Qui portus humanis es tempestatibus.

Aeschylus, ibid.

The Earth hath no such plenty as her woes;

The Ocean too with misery o'reflows.

Come, Death, thou cure of all this misery,

The Port where all from storms securely lie.

62. The Tritons swim.] These by the Poets are commonly called Neptune's Trumpeters, and were the issue of him and Salacia, Serv [...]us in Aeneid. 1. That excellent Trumpeter Misenus oweth his death to the malice of a Triton, Aen. 6. v. 170.

Se [...] tum forte cava dum personat aequora concha

Demens, & cantu vocat in certamina Di [...]os,

Aemulus exceptum Triton (si credere dignum est)

Inter saxa virum spumosa immerserat unda.

But on a Rock whilst he by chance the charms

Of Mars rung out, and all the gods alarms

With the loud challenge from his wreathed shell,

(If it be worth belief what others tell)

Whirl'd by an envious Triton from that height,

Among the rocks and waves he found his fate.

So Virgil, Aen 10. v. 209. Ovid, Metam. l. 1. v. 333. and Claudian, de Nuptiis Honorii & Mariae, give Triton the character of Neptuue's Trumpeter, Seneca Troad. act. 2. Triton cecinit hymenaeum; that is, with his shell or trumpet; for none ascribe human voice to a Triton. Plinie, lib. 9. c. 5. saith, The Emperor Tib [...]rius was told, That a Triton was seen in a cave winding a shell. Gillius, in Additionib. ad Aelian, and Alexander ab Alex. lib. 3. cap. 8. relate, That there was a Fountain near the Sea-shore, frequently used by the Inhabitants, whence women and virgins fetched water daily; which a Triton, that lay hid on the shore, espying, on a sudden ravished [Page] one of them, which his hot fancy had most liking to: And that afterwards, he being caught in a snare and imprisoned, died for grief. The same Author reporteth, that one Trap [...]zuntius, to whom he affordeth a fair character, told some friends, That he had seen a Maid of an exceeding beauty playing in the Sea, and ever and anon from the middle upward appearing above the water, till at length perceiving she was discovered, she plunged her self into the Deep. Claudius the Emperor, by a device, made a Triton appear in the middle of a Lake, rising out of the water, and sounding a Trumpet, Sueton. in Claudio, c. 21. Which spectacle was afteward commonly shewed in the Theaters, as Casaubon on that place relateth.

73. By the bold Jason.] Statius here glanceth at the story of Jason's ravishing Medea with the golden Fleece, comparing that act of his with this of Paris. Jason was the first who violated the Sea's reserved rights, as Seneca Medea, act. 3. chor. ult. It was the opinion formerly, that Seas were set as bounds, to confine every man within his own Country, and that no man's ambition should aim at more than the higher powers had placed him in. This among others Seneca Hippol. act. 2. maketh an argument of the innocency of the Antients.

Nondum secabant credulae pontum rates:

Sua quisque nôrat maria.

No ventrous ship, trusted the waves or wind:

But all men were with their own Seas confin'd.

76. By the rash Judge of Ida.] Paris, whose judgment is accus'd of rashnesse, because he preferred Pleasure before Wisdom or Empire; and because his fond choice was his Countrie's ruine, Horat. lib. 3. Carm. Od. 3.

—Ilion, Ilion

Fatal is incestusque judex

Et mulier peregrina verti [...]

In pulverem.

Troy by a fatall Judge's lust,

And a strange Woman, turn'd to dust.

So Seneca, Troad. act. 1. calleth him, The fatall Judge. Wherefore our Poet justly giveth him here the title of a rash one. For any [Page] thing that is fatall, is hardly to be freed from the imputation of Rashnesse.

79. A Foster-child.] Venus: who was bred of the Ocean, as Hesiod in Theog. and Pausanias in Corinthiacis, relate. By Seneca, Hippol. act. 1. she is called Diva generata ponto. This was the greatest reason that Leander encouraged himself withall, to swim over the Hellespont. Musoeus vers. 248.

— [...];

[...],

[...].

—why dost thou fear the waves?

Know'st thou not Venus from the Sea first came,

Mistresse both of the Ocean and my flame?

Servius in Aen. 5. writeth, that Venus was therefore said to be born of the Sea, quia dicunt Physici sudorem salsum esse, quem semper elicit coitus Hence the Myrtle was consecrated to Venus, because that Tree prospereth best on the Sea-shore. Like this is that of Coelius Rhodiginus, lib. 14. c 4. Lascivos Graeci [...] vocant i. e. humidos, &c. because venereall appetites proceed from moisture. Hence Poets took occasion to feign, that Ʋenus sprung from the Ocean. Caspar Bartholinus Adversar. l. 21. c. 22. giveth this Mythologie, Eam Fabulam aliquando arbitratus sum exinde venire, quòd Venus prima questûs faciendi causâ corpus prostituit, velut insatiabile pelagus omnes ad se trahens. I was sometimes of opinion, saith he, that the Fable arose from hence, Because Venus was the first who prostituted her body for hire, like an insatiable Sea attracting all to her. More of Venus is to be seen in Gyraldus, Histor. Deor. Syntagm. 13. Turnebus 9. Adversar. c. 2. Natalis Comes, Mytholog lib. 4. c. 13. Fulgentius, Mythol. l. 2. But above all, I prefer the Interpretation of the Fable which Macrobius giveth, Saturnal. lib. 1. c. 8. That by the secret parts of Coelus, which were cut off by his son Saturn, and thrown into the Sea, and of the froth whereof Venus was engendred, were meant the seeds of things falling from Heaven, as soon as there was such a thing as Time; which Saturn is always held-to signifie. And by Coelus nothing can be understood but COELUM, Heaven; Servius in Aen. 5. denying, that the proper name of any god can be of the Neuter Gender. Cicero lib. 3. De nat. Deor. telleth us of four Venus's; one the daughter of Coelus and Light; another of the Froth of the Sea, of whom, and Mercurie, Cupid was begotten; a third of Jupiter [Page] and Dione the wife of Vulcan; the fourth of Syrus and Syria. This last was married to Adonis, and her the Syrians named [...], the Hebrews Ashteroth, 1 King. 11. 5. Judg. 2. 13. And as Tully reckoneth many Venus's, so, as Mr. Selden saith, De Diis Syris syntagm. 2. c 2. St. Augustine interpreteth [...], as if there were many Astartes. This goddesse had many sacrifices offered to her, Alexand. ab Alexandro, l. 3. c. 12. and from thence had her name, Ashtaroth signifying greges: Suspiceris (saith Scaliger in Conjectaneis) dictam eam à Victimarum multitudine. She was entituled also, The goddesse of Love, or rather of Lasciviousnesse. Clemens Alexandrinus telleth us, that once all her pictures were made after the likenesse of Phryne, a famous Whore, and that the man who, like another Pygmelton, could embrace the statue of the goddesse, conceited himself religious, Admon. ad Gentes: where he also setteth down her lascivious Ceremonies. Mr. Gregorie writing of the Assyrian Monarchie, relateth, that there was a custom, that every woman should once in her life repair to the Temple of Venus, and there prostitute her body to any one that would throw her down a piece of mony, which was to be given to the Temple, and to the honor of the goddesse. The manner was for the women to sit down in the Temple, distinguished by little lines or cords, which he that had a mind might take away, or break, if the woman seemed coy, and so take the strumpet out of the Temple into a by corner. This is expressed in the Epistle ascribed to Jeremie, at the end of Ba [...]uch, v. 43. The woman also with cords about them fitting in the ways, burn bran for perfume; but if any of them, drawn by some that passeth by, lie with him, she reproacheth her fellow, that she was not thought as worthy as her self, nor her cord broken. Such attendants this goddesse had as we read, 2 King. 23. 7. And he broke down the houses of the S [...]domites that were by the house of the Lord, where the women wove hangings for the Grove. This place Mr. Selden interpreteth thus, Diruit quoque domos scortatorum—ubi mulieres texebant cortinas pro Aserah, seu luco. Of which, see his De Diis Syris, Synt. 2. c. 2. & 4. pag. 237. & 283. Thus far I have digressed, to shew the antiquity of this lascivious goddesse; which was not the production onely of fictious brains. Nor is it to be wondred at, that a thing so loathsome and ridiculous should meet with adoration; for the whole Religion of the Gentiles is so contrived, as to agree with licentious appetites. Which easie way to propagate a novelty, Mahomet well understood; nor is it now wholly unpractised.

88. By his affected tomb to grieve] Thetis here expresseth a passion, so great for her Son, that if his fate, as sore-told, should be to perish [Page] in the Trojan War, she would leave the Ocean, and ever mourn in those waves, that should wash the place of his Sepulchre: And that was the Sigean promontory. There Alexander the Great performed ceremonies in his memory, declaring him happy, who in his life enjoyed such a friend as Patroclus, and after death, doth still live by Homer: Plu [...]arch, in Alexandro. Cicero Epist. ad famil. l. 5. cp. 12.

107. Caphareus.] Neptune being forced by the crosse decrees of the Fates to deny Thetis petitioning for a storm against the Greeks, to appease her somewhat, telleth her, that the Trojans should be ruined by the valour of her son, and herselfe be revenged on the Greeks at Caphareus, who should there suffer ship-wrack. Whereof the Tragedian thus.

—Hanc arcem occupat

Palamedis ille genitor, & clarum manu

Lumen nefanda vertice è summo efferens,

In saxa ducit perfidâ classem face.

Haerent acutis rupibus fixae rates.

Upon whose summit Nauplius stood, and rais'd

In his revenging hand a Light that blaz'd.

Whose treacherous flame the navy guides betwixt

The wracking Rocks, whose points the vessels fix't.

Seneca Agamemn. act. 3. v. 557.

Nauplius's grudge against the Greeks, arose from this occasion; Ʋlysses having charged Palamedes, for holding correspondence with Priam, and writing letters to him, discovered, as a proof of his Treachery, an heap of Gold in his Tent, which he before hand had closely conveyed thither. Whereupon, innocent Palamedes was stoned to death, Serv. in Aen. 2. Dictys Cretensis, and Dares Phrygius, give other accounts of him: Dares, that he was killed by Paris, lib. oe excidio Trojano; Dictys, that Diomedes and Ʋlysses, over-whelmed him with stones in a well, whither he, suspecting no foul play, went down to fetch up Treasure, which they told him was hid there, and he should have his share of it, lib. 2. Caphareus is an high Hill in Eubaea, over-looking the Hellespont: On the top of this, Nauplius caused fi [...]es to be made by night, to allure the weather-beaten Greeks to fall upon the Rocks, that so he might revenge his son's death upon them.

108. Joynt-revenge] Neptune promiseth Thetis to joyn with her [Page] against Ʋlysses. His quarrell with him, was upon the account of his son Polypheme, whose eye Ʋlysses had bored out: Which story is thus related by Achaemenides, to Aeneas, Aen. 3.

—Domus sanie dapibúsque cruentis,

Intus opaca, ingens. Ipse arduus, altáque pulsat

Sidera (Dii talem terris avertite pestem!)

Nec visu facilis, nec dictu affabilis ulli;

Visceribus miserorum & sanguine vescitur atro,

Vidi egomet, duo de numero cùm corpora nostro,

Pr'ensa manu magna, medio resupinus in antro

Frangeret ad saxum, sanieque adspersa natarent

Limina: vidi, atro cùm membra fluentia tabo

Mandere [...], & trepidi tremerent sub dentibus artus.

Haud impunè quidem: nec talia passus Ʋlysses,

Oblit [...]sve suî est Ithacus discrimine tanto.

Nam simul expletus dapibus, vinóque sepultus,

Cervicem inflexam posuit, jacuitque per ant [...]um

Immensum, saniem eructans & frusta cruento

Per somnum commixta mero; nos magna precati

Numina, sortitique vices, unà undique circum

Fundimur, & telo lumen tenebramus acuto

Ingens, quod torva solum sub fronte latebat.

—Slaughters and bloody feast,

With shades the vastnesse fill'd. He high and tall

The starres assaults. (The gods such plagues from all

Avert!) His voice and visage stern: his food,

Bowels of slaughtred wretches and black blood.

As in his den he lay along, I saw

Two of our men, grasp'd by his cursed paw,

And dash'd against the rock: the blood all ore,

With purple drops drenched the sprinkled floor.

Limbs flowing with black gore I saw him eat,

And in his teeth the trembling sinews beat.

Nor unreveng'd their fates Ʋlysses bears,

But mindfull of himself in all appears.

For now ore-charg'd with wine and bloody feasts,

His head bent down, as in his Cave he rests,

Wine mix'd with clotty gore returning flows,

Which belch'd up from his grave-like breast he throws.

[Page] Burl'd in sleep: We all the gods implore,

Spreading o [...]r selves round on the bloody floor,

And with a sharp spear fix'd eternall night.

Upon his brow, rob'd of its onely light.

Servius, on this place, saith, That Polyphemus was some wise man, and therefore feigned to have his eye in his forehead, that is, near the brain, which Ʋ [...]ysses, being wiser than he, put out. But by the Cyclopes generally are understood the Vapors of the Sea or Earth: and hence, perhaps, Polyphemus, the chief of them, was said to be the son of Neptune, by whom was meant, according to Ch [...]ysippus, the spirit that moved the waters. Cic. lib. 1. de Nat. Deor. And Ʋlysses was therefore seigned to overcome Polypheme, because he found out these naturall causes.

111. Thessalie.] A R [...]gion of Greece, girt about with Mountains, Olympus, Ossa, a [...]d Pelion, on the North; Othrys and Oeta Southward; and Pindus on the West. Its bounds are exactly set down by Herodotus, lib. 7. It was antiently called Pyrrhaea, from Pyrrha the wife of Deucalion, Strabo lib. 10. Afterward Aemonia, from Aemon; from whose son Thessalus, at last it was called Thessalie.

115. Sperchios.] A River in Thessalie, issuing from Mount Pelion, and falling into the Malian Bay, ten furlongs from Thermopylae, Strab. lib. 9.

129. Disturb the geniall crue] Our Poet glanceth at the fray between the Centaurs and the Lapithae, which hapned at the marriage of Pirithous, so excellently described by Ovid, and after him by the enjoyer of his Genius, Mr. San [...]ys. Genius (from which Genial is derived) est nascendt atque nature deus, à gignendo d [...]ctus. Hence the four Elements, whereof all Inferior bodies are generated, were called Dii geniales; and the Nuptiall-bed, Lectus genialis. See Turnebus Adversar l. 16. c. 19. & l. 26. c. 14. Ge [...]ii were accounted the moderators and disposers of the Planets, and their Influences, at mens Nativities. Horace lib. 2 epist. 2.

Scit Genius, natale comes qui temperat afirum.

Those Doemons also whom, the Heathen attribute so much the dependancie of our resolutions unto, were called Genii, as begetting the thoughts of men, and working on them. And perhaps the frequency of these Spirits and opinions, before our Saviour's time, was the occasion of that more absurd conceit, set down by scoffi [...]g [...]ucian in his Menippus, That the shadows which our bodies cast in [Page] the Sun-shine will be witnesse against us in the other world. With reference to these Genii must that of the Poet. Aen. 6. v. 643. be interpreted, ‘Quisque suos patimur manes.’ i. e. Every one in the next life must receive either punishment for the crimes he committed, by hearkning to his woes [...]r Genius, or rewards for the good he wrought, by the assistance of his better. For two Genii, they say, one good, (the other bad,) attend every man from his birth. This the Heathen were taught by their gods; the Devil herein, as in many other things, playing the Ape, and imitating the true God; who indeed giveth his Angels charge over us, (see Clemens Alexandrinus, lib. 5. S [...]r [...]m) that we be not overcome by the power of evill Spirits. For we wrestle not, saith the Apostle, Ephes. 6. 12. against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darknesse of this world, against spirituall wickednesse: [...], here translated, in high places; which is not at all assisting, if not prejudiciall to the meaning of the verse. Beza rendreth it, Quae sunt in sublimi, something nearer, But I see not why the words should not be rendred, in the lower Heavens, that is, the Aire, the habitation of these Daemons, as Mr. Mede, on 2 Pet. 2. 4. and Jude 6. doth prove. And it is observed, that for the Heaven of Heavens, or supernaturall Heaven, the word [...] ▪ is always used. In relation to this sense, Origen useth the Verse in his writings against Gelsus. Moreover, judicious Calvin on the place, intimateth as much, where the Interpretation he useth, is, Incoelestibus. Diodate also understandeth, The region of the aire, in which evill spirits, driven cut of heaven, do wander. And by Principalities he understandeth evill Angels; excellently adding, that in the quality of their nature, and in the power which God suffereth them to have over the world, they have also something common with the holy Angels, in the eminency of Titles. Yet he there retracteth this Interpretation, in my opinion for a worse.

153. with Magick art.] Thetis, desirous to conceal from Chiron the purpose she had, to disg [...]ise his Schollar in woman's apparell, whom he by rigid principles had fitted for the hardest employments, beareth him in hand, that ominous dreams moved her to attempt the prevention of his fate by Magict Art. Such a deceit passionate Dido beguiled her sister withall, pretending to seek onely a remedy for her love, when indeed her plot was to cousen her self of life.

[Page]

Ergo ubi concepit furi [...]s, evicta dolore,

Decrevitque mori, tempus secum ipsa modumque

Exigit, & maestam dictis aggressa sororem,

Consilium vultu tegit, ac spem fronte serenat.

Inveni, germana, viam (gratare sorori)

Quae mihi reddat eum, vel eo me solvat, amantem.

Oceani finem iuxta solemque cadentem,

Ʋltimus Aethiop [...] locus est, ubi maximus Atlas

Axem humero torquet stellis ardentibus aptum.

Hin [...] mihi Massylae gentis monstrata sacerdos,

Hes [...]eridum templi custos, epulasque Draconi

Quae dabat, & sacros servabat in arbore ramos,

Spargens humida mella soporiferumque papaver.

Haec se carminibus promittit solvere mentes

Quos velit, ast aliis dur [...] immittere curas:

S [...]ere [...]quam fluviis, & vertere sidera retro:

Nocturnosque ciet-manes-Mugire videbis

Sub pedibus terram, & descendere montibus orn [...]s.

Virg. Aen. 4.

Vanquish'd with grief, and now resolv'd to die,

The means and time to act the Tragedy

She plots: And, with f [...]ign'd joy to hide her crime,

Thus to her sister saith▪ Joy that the time▪

Is come, that I shall now procure my rest,

And gain his love, or freedom to my breast.

Near to the Ocean's bounds, where Phoebus flies

To end his course, burnt Aethiopia lies:

Where on his loaden shoulders Atlas bears

Heaven, which fill'd with glittering Starrs appears.

Hence a Massylian came, the Temple' [...] Priest

Of the Hesperides, who there did feast

The watchfull Dragon, and preserved too

The Tree on which the sacred branches grew,

With Hony and mix'd Poppy, which conveys.

A drousie dulnesse: By her charms, she says,

She can dissolve a passion, and procure

A scornfull breast another to endure,

Stop in its speed the swiftest stream, and all

The Stars turn backward from their course, and call

Ghosts from the howling earth, and from the high

Tops of the Hills make stubborn Trees to flie.

[Page] That Witches had such a faculty as Dido here speaketh of, to quench or kindle love at their pleasure, former times believed.

Carmine Thessalidum dura in praecordia fluxit

Non fatis adductus amor; flammisque severi

Illicitis arsêre senes.

Thessalian charms, without assisting fate,

Can passion give to hearts stil us'd to hate.

Severe old men are fetter'd with Love's chains,

And their chill breasts burn with unlawfull flames.

Lucan lib. 6. vers. 452.

And a little after,

—Quos non concordia misti

Alligat ulla tori, blandaeque potentia formae,

Traxerunt torti Magicâ vertigine fili.

—Those who ne're car'd to try

Love's joys, whom Hymen's knots could never tye;

Whom charming beauty never yet compell'd,

A slender thread, by Magick ty'd, hath held.

Their power also in other things the same noble Poet thus describeth.

Cessavêre vices rerum: dilataque longâ

Haesit nocte dies: legi non paruit aether:

Torpuit & praeceps audito carmine mundus.

Axibus & rapidis impulsos Jupiter urgens

Miratur non ire polos. Nunc omnia complent

Imbribus, & calido producunt nubila Phoebo:

Et tonat ignaro coelum Jove. Vocibus iisdem

Humentes latè nebulas, nimbosque solutis

Excussêre comis, ventis cessantibus aequor

Intumuit: rursum vetitum sentire procellas

Conticuit, turbante Noto: puppimque ferentes

In ventum tumuêre sin [...]s. De rupe pependit

Abscissâ fixus torrens: amnisque cucurrit

Non quà pronus erat. Nilum non extulit aestus.

The course of things was stopp'd: nor Heaven obey'd

Its Laws: the Day in Night's black Arms delay'd.

[Page] The tott'ring world these potent charms benum,

And while the rapid Poles forget to run,

Jove stands amaz'd. A storm obeys, and shrowds,

Phoebus adorn'd with all his rays, in clowds.

Jove ignorant the Thunder hears. The same

Dire voice, with loose dishevell'd hair again

Shattereth the dropping clowds: Seas swell with waves,

The winds all hush'd; again, though Notus raves,

The Seas becalmed lie. Ships make their way

Against the wind, and rushing torrents stay

Thrown from a precipice. Streams backward run:

Nor Nile o're flows the plains scorcht by the Sun.

These places I have produced, to shew what an opinion the antient Heathen had of Witches. I will onely add, that I find that the Tyrians had a custom, to tie the Images of their gods with bands, lest they should be called from them by the charms of their enemies, Alexand. ab Alex▪ l 4. c 12. And so subject were those gods to the power of charms, that they were thereby compelled to come, nor could return back without license obtained; Euseb▪ de praepar. Evang. l. 5. c. 8, & 9. From this opinion arose that question in Lucan, lib. 6. v. 492.

Quis labor hic superis cantus herbasque sequendi,

Spernedique timor? cujus commercia pacti

Ob▪ rictos tenuêre Deos? parere necesse est,

An juvat? ignota tantum pietate mere n'ur?.

What is it makes the fearfull gods forbear

To scorn both herbs and charms? whence comes this fear?

Doth strong necessity, or their own designe,

Or piety unknown, them thus incline?

I shall say more of this subject haply hereafter, when a more proper place shall afford opportunity. But thus much at present, to shew, that Chiron had reason to believe Thetis, when she told him, that she would make use of Magick for her son's preservation.

166. The envious gods.] Our Poet is here thought to have no further aime, than to set forth the praises of his Achilles, as if he deserved the envy of the gods. But I have observed Statius to be a great imitator of Virgil, who was still wont to omit no occasion of interweavning his Learning with his Poetry: wherein Macrobius [Page] strongly justifieth him. Since these words therefore will afford it, hold it not amisse to interpret them to the more learned sense.

There was a generall Tradition among the Heathen, That th [...] gods envied any perfection or happinesse in Mankind. This proceeded from the Devill's policy, who from the beginning of th [...] world endeavoured to represent God env [...]ous unto Man, in that h [...] denied him the knowledge of good and evill; as Junius and Dioda [...] observe on Gen. 3. Learned Merick Casaubon, in his Cause of tempora Evills, saith, that Aristotle sets down this opinion, That God i [...], envious; but protesteth agai [...]st it, [...], It is not possible it should be so; yet saith, That if it were so indeed, that the nature of God could be envious, that Envy must needs consist in hidenying of men the happinesse of certain knowledge and contemplation. That impious Philosopher Porphyrie, directly chargetl God with envy, for forbidding the Tree of Knowledge: Who is answered by Greg. Nazianzen, Orat. 38. Such impious men perhaps take offence at Gen. 3. 22, 23. I forbear to produce further Testimonies, to prove, there was such an opinion among the Heathen, I do not think them needfull; since it is certain, the Devill would let slip no occasion of raising prejudice against God, and charging him with his own c [...]ime. Through envy of the Devill came death into the world, Wisd. 2. 24. It was the Devil's envy that made Man lose Paradise, and not God, who placed him in it. Another reason why the gods were conceived to envy men, was, Because all their prosperity and happinesse, is at length requited with crosses and calamity. Examples of such change are frequent in all times: Among all, scarce is there any more notable then that of the once-Great Pompey, flying alone after his overthrow in Pharsalia, Lucan. lib. 1. v. 28.

—Sed longi poenas Fortuna favor is

Exigit à misero, quae tanto pondere famae

Res premit adversas, fatisque prioribus urget.

Nunc festinatos nimiùm fibi sentit honores,

Actaque lauriferae damnat Syllana juventae.

Nunc & Corycias classes & Pontica signa,

Dejectum, meminisse piget. Sic longius aevum

Destruit ingentes an [...]mos, & vita superstes

Imperio. Nisi summa dies cum fine bonorum

Affuit, & celeri praevertit tristia leto,

Dedecori est fortuna prior. Quisquámne secundis

Tradere se fatis audet, nisi morte paratâ▪

[Page]

But Fortune with her favour still beguiles,

And with sad woes pursues her former smiles.

His fame most presseth his declining state,

And former glories add unto the weight.

Too hasty now his early fame he found,

And blames those wreaths with which his Youth was crown'd.

Of Pontick or Corycian Victories

Now when he thinks, his flaming blushes rise.

Thus greatest minds consuming Age destroys,

And Life survives our Empires and our Joys.

Unlesse life with those joys together flow,

And a swift fate prevent ensuing woe,

To Fortune Shame succeeds. In the best state

Let none confide, unlesse prepar'd for Fate.

Another instance of the mutability of Fortune, was that great Souldier, Hannibal; whose prophetick spirit was sensible of this, almost fatall, necessity: as we may see in that incomparable speech, which Livy maketh him speak to Scipio; advising not to trust the gods and Fortune too farre: telling him, that what Scipio was then, himself had been▪ after the battels at Tras [...]emen [...] and Cannae; and that Fortune had never yet deceived him. Thus he spake to move his enemy to accept peace, conceiving no argument of more force, then the consideration of the vicissitude of human affairs. And his words, though then slighted, Scipio himselfe afterwards found true, and had sad experience, both of the inconstancy of Fortune, and of the ingratitude of his Country. To these, I might adde the examples of Marius, Caesar, and infinite others, out of the stories of former times, with more prodigious ones of our own age; Habet has vices conditio mortalium, saith Pliny in his excellent Ranegyrick, ut adversa ex secundis, ex adversis secunda nascantur. Occultat utrorumque semina Deus; & pletunque [...]norum malor [...]que causae sub diversa specie latent: ‘The condition of mortalls, hath these changes, that adversity should spring out of prosperity, and prosperity out of adversity. The seeds of both, God concealeth; and for the most part, the causes of good and evill, things lie hid under a different species.’ Herodotus relateth, how Amasis King of Aegypt, counselled his friend Polycrates, King of Samos, That he should interrupt the course of his felicity, by casting quite away something that he held most dear, and the losse whereof would most afflict him. Plutarch, De consol. ad Apollonium, telleth us, that Theramenes, one of the thirty [Page] Tyrants at Athens, being at Supper wi [...]h many friends, the house where they were, suddenly fell down, and he onely escaped. Many upon this, gave him the name of Happy: But he crying our, asked, For what sadder death Fortune had reserved him? And indeed, the Torments he endured before his end, added him to the number of those examples, which serve to admonish prosperous persons, of the uncertainty of their Estate, Seneca, Troad. act. 2.

Violenta nemo imperia continuit diu:

Moderata durant. Quóque fortuna altius

Evexit ac levavit humanas opes,

Hoc se magis supprimere felicem decet,

Variósque casus tremere, metuentem Deos

Nimiùm faventes.

None violent Empires long enjoy secure:

They 're moderate conditions that endur [...].

When Fortune raiseth to the greatest height,

The happy man should most suppresse his state,

Exspecting still a change of things to find,

And fearing when the gods appear too kind.

It is an excellent Character, that Macrobius giveth of Fortitude, Tolerare fortiter vel adversa vel prospera, To bear with courage, either adverse or prosperous Fortune, in Somn. Scipionis, l. 1. c. 8. And perhaps, it may aime at our sense, In the best condition, without distemper, to exspect the worst. This dreading invidiam Numinis, was the cause, why that mighty Emperour Augustus, used once a year, Cavam manum asses porrigentibus praebere, as Su [...]tonius in his Life relateth, c. 91. To beg with his open, or hollow, hand; the most opprobrious way of begging. On which place, see learned Casaubon, giving reasons from the generally received opinion, thus elegantly expressed by Erasmus, in his Philodoxus, Saepe mecum admirari sole [...] seu Fortunae seu Naturae invidentiam, quae nihil omnino commodi largitur mortalibus quod non aliquo temperet incommodo, i. e. I have often wondred with my self at the envy, either of Fortune or Nature, who never dispense things convenient to mankind, which are not tempered with some inconvenience. For this Philip of Macedon, kept a Youth, whose office was, every Morning thrice to salute him thus, [...], Philip, thou art a man, Aelian. var, hist. l. 8. c. 15. I will end all with a passage of Diodorus Siculus, Biblioth. hist. lib. 3. Thus rendered by Merick Casaubon, in his Cause of evils, [Page] Neverthelesse, God ( [...]) hath not afforded unto men any entire happinesse, without some blemish or envy; but to these his blessings he hath annexed somewhat that is hurtfull, which might serve to admonish them, who through continuance of worldly blessings, are wont to grow into a contempt of the Gods. Whether our Poet had an eye to this opinion, I cannot say; Certainly, his words seem to look that way, and so my discourse is excused from impertinency.

195. Pholoe] A woody mountain of Arcadia, having a Town of its own name, Plin. l. 4. c. 6.

207. So tired Castor.] Statius here compareth Achilles to Castor, whose beauty he maketh as bright as his own starre. He and Pollux were the sons of Tyndarus and Leda: And their amity was so great, that they never differed either in matter of Power or Counsell. For which Hyginus saith, Jove translated them into Stars; Servius in Aeneid. 6. saith, that Helen and Pollux were begotten by Jupiter, in the shape of a Swan, and from him, drew immortality; but that Castor was the son of Tyndarus, and so mortall: but by the extream kindnesse of his brother, and the concession of Jupiter, mortality and immortality, was equally divided betwixt them, Virgil, Aen. 6.

Sic fratrem Pollux alterna morte redemit.

The fable arose from the Stars, one whereof ever riseth at the setting of the other, as if the fate and fall of one redeemed his fellow; That these brethren were ever watchfull for the Roman Common-wealth, Valerius Maximus proveth by many examples, lib▪ 1. c. 8. Also Plutarch in the Life of Paulus Aemylius relateth their meeting of L. Domitius, and how they gave him in charge to make known to the Senate and people of Rome, that they were victorious; which as yet they were uncertain of: And then, (as Suetonius, in the beginning of Nero's life writeth, though Plutarch mentioneth it not) to evidence their Divinity, they changed his hair from Black to Red. And thence came the name of Aenobarbus, which continued to one of the greatest families in Rome.

216.—Sings the acts of Heroes] Maturantius saith, it was a custom among the Greeks, to sing the actions of famous persons; to the [...]nd, that others might be inflamed to a generous imitation of them. So Scipio was excited to great atchievements, by gazing on Statues, [...]rected to the memory of renowed men. Musick was ever much [...]onoured: Epaminondas, among other things was famous for it. [...]acobus Crucins, in lib. Annot. relateth out of Polybius, that the Ardi [...]ns generally instructed their youths in Musick, and saith, It [Page] was a custom among the Grecians, to sing the praises of their Genii, Heroes, and Gods. So Alexander ab Alexand o, l. 4. c. 17. saith, They were wont to sing the praises of their gods, while the sacrifice was in eating. And lib. 2. c. 25. having reckoned up many famous men that were excellent Musicians, he addeth that among the Greeks, Musici, Vates, and Sapientes were in equall estimation; And that, after Supper, the Harp was wont to be played on; Which when Themistocles refused to take in hand, he was for that very cause, held the lesse learned. He there also affirmeth, that the Ancienrs used to chant out the Encomiums of renowned persons. Thus our Poet setteth forth Achilles, to have been instructed by Chiron, and now to give his Mother the usuall entertainment after their Feast; And Homer telleth us, that he oft practiced this art at the siege of Troy. Thus also, Dido entertaineth her guests, Aeneas, Virg. Aen. 1.

—Cithara crinitus Iopas

Personat aurata, docuit quae maximus Atlas.

Hic canit errantem Lunam, solisque labores;

Ʋnde hominum genus & pecudes, unde imber, & ignes:

Arcturum, pluviásque Hyadas, geminósque Triones;

Quid tantum Oceano properent se tingere [...]oles

Hiberni, vel quae tardis mora noctibus obstet.

—Hai [...]y Iopas then begun,

And on his Harp what Atlas taught he sung;

The Moon's unconstant ways, and how the Sun

Performs his course; whence men and beasts first sprung;

The Bears, the Hyades, and Arcturus sings,

The cause of showers, and why heav'n lightning fl [...]ngs;

Why to the waves the Sun should take his flight

Sooner in Winter, and prolong the night.

219. The victories of Pollux.] The weapon by which Pollux was victorious, was much used by the Antients, called Caesius; whose description J. C. Scaliger thus giveth: At first, (saith he) the Greeks used to fight with naked sists. Pugnis addita lora ad munimentum, propterea quòd nudi cùm ferirent sape plus damni acciperent quàm facerent. Ea lora Graeco vocabulo CESTUS dicta ( [...] enim cinguluir.) Br [...] via initio: mox, nè excussa exuerentur in ictibus, tum cubito tum humero alligabantur. Postremò ferrum plumbumque assutum est, saevissimo spectaculo. Cerebrum enim & gattur facillimè elidebant. Idcirco aurium munimenta [Page] induebant, [...]. Thus he describeth the Castus to be a piece of a Leather, for the safeguard of the hand, which, when naked, received oftentimes more damage by a blow, than it gave. Lest this Caestus should be shaken off by striking, it was fastned, not to the arm onely, but also to the shoulder. At the end of it was sewed a mass of Iron or Lead, which rendred the combat a most cruell spectacle. Their very brains were oft dashed out; for prevention whereof, they covered both their ears with defences. This character Fabricius also confirmeth, relating, that the form of this Caestus was to be seen in the house of Peter [...]embus, when he lived at Padus. Fuerunt coria bubula, saith he, quibus plumbum ferrumque insutum est, articulis manûs in volam [...]lexae circundata; &, ut pondus sustinere ferientium manus valerent, brachi is alligata. And hence he believeth, the antient Germans took the use of the Gantlet, which they wore in war. The reason Fabricius giveth, why the Caestus were fastned to the arm, is, in my opinion, better then Scaliger's, That so the hand might be strengthned to bear the weight the better. This Fabricius writeth, on the Combat between Ente [...]lus and Dares, Aen. 5. This Exercise, as Scaliger saith, was at first onely used with bare fists, and prizes propounded for it in the Olympick Games, Thucyd lib. 1. The invention of Caestus is ascribed to Amycus, Clem. Alex. lib. 1. Strom [...] Amycus the Bebrycian King first found out [...], lora pugilum, that is, the Caestus. Which very words, with others of [...]lemens, Eusebius useth, De praep. Evang. l. 10. c. 5. Hence Statius here,

—crudo quo Bebryca caestu

Obruerit Pollux.

i. e. Amycus, so called from the place where he reigned, Bebrycia, which had its name from Bebryae, a King in the Pyrenaean Mountains, Sil. Ital. l. 3. Since, it was called Mygdonia; after that, Bithynia, from Bithynius, a King there, Strabo l. 7. &. 12. Arianus giveth one of the daughters of Danaus this name, who, as well as her sister Hyperinnestra, spared her husband, contrary to her father's command, and flying with him into this Country, gave name to it; till fresher merits destroyed the memory of hers. There is a Village called Bebryacum, by Suetonius, in Othone, and by Tacitus, Anual. 18. seated between Verona and Cremona. In the Lipswick Edition it is called Bedriacum, by Josephus [...], by Plutarch [...]. But by reason of the authority of Tacitus and Orosius, Joseph Scaliger [Page] saith, Eanihil aliud sunt quám unum nomen multifariàm deprava [...]um. At this place Otho was ove [...]come by Ʋitollius; & statim, saith Suetonius, moriendi impetum cepit. Yet then had he a reserved Army, competent enough to have attempted, in another Battle, the recovery of his Fortune; but he chose rather to let that be the certain advantage of his friends, to procure peace from Ʋitellius, than by hazarding them to pull on all their ruines together. For which cause, Tacitus justly saith, Many enjoyed Empires longer, but none left them bravelier.

220. The monstrous Minotaur fam'd-Theseus slew.] The Fable is thus; The Adultery of Mars and Ʋenus being discern'd by the Sun's all seeing eye, and by him discovered to Ʋulcan, in a Net that he had made for the purpose, he caught the Lovers in their embraces. Hereat Ʋenus being enraged, ever after pursued the race of Phoebus with revenge, infecting them with prodigious passions. The first that suffered was Pasiphae the wife of Minos; she, being in love with a Bull, was by Daedalus h [...]s art inclosed in a Cow of wood, and so received the horrid satisfaction of her beastly Lover. And from that loathsome embrace came the Minotaur. By this Queen, Minos had three children, Androgeos, Ariadne, and Phaedra. Androgeos, after many noble Victories, was at last slain by the Athenians and Megarians. In revenge of his death, Minos having vanquished the Athenians at Sea, imposed on them this punishment, that seven Youths, and as many Virgins, should every year be delivered to be devoured by the Minotaur. But Eusebius, de praepar. Evang. l. 5. c. 19. layeth their death to Apollo's charge, whose Oracle directed the Athenians, to send the Youths to be killed by Minos, that the plague might be averted from them, which they suffered for the death of Androgeos. In the third year of this imposition, Th [...]seus son of Aegeus was sent. He, no less powerfull in person then in forces, first obtained a conquest of the heart of Ariadne; and then, by her procurement, having got a thread from Daedalus to guide him, he found the way to the Minotaur in the Labyrinth, and slew him; and having so done, he fled away with Ariadne. Then Minos finding, or suspecting, that Daedalus, who made the Labyrinth, had assisted Theseus, enclosed both him and his son Icarus therein. But Daedalus procuring wax and feathers, with other materialls, from his Keepers, under pretence of presenting something rare to the King, made Wings, with which himself and his son slew away. But the rash Youth, contrary to his Father's instructions, soaring too high, melted his wings against the Sun, and fell into that Sea, which beareth his name, Ovid. de arte lib. 2. & Metam. [Page] lib. 8. The place his father alighted first upon, was Cumae; Where, [...] the gates of Apollo's Temple, he engraved this storie, omitting [...]ot [...]ing but the rate of Icarus, Ʋirg. Aen. 6.

—Tu quoque magnam

Partem opere in tanto, sineret dolor, Icare, haberes.

Bis conatus erat casus eDffingere in auro;

Bis patriae cecidere manus.

Thou also, Icarus, hadst had a part

In this, had grief giv'n freedom to his art.

Twice he attempted thy hard fate to paint;

Twice thy concerned father's hand did faint.

Some hold, this Fable was invented to shadow a true storie, and hat Pasiphae being in love with Taurus, Captain of the Guard to Minos, lay with him in Daedalus's house; and she bringing forth [...]wins, the mockery made up the Minotaur. The Fable was more l [...]wdly presented by Nero: In relating whereof, Suetonius, as Beroaldus noteth, useth words, that seem to credit Beasts having copulation with Women; against which we read a Law, Levit. 20. 16. which sheweth the probability of it. Besides, if it be possible, we need no farther proof than the unsatiable nature of some women. Nor would any doubt, that Messalina the lascivious Empresse would have scrupled at such an act, if her fancy had but directed her to it. Juvenal. Sat. 6.

—Claudius audi

Quae tulerit. Dormire virum cùm senserat uxor,

Ausa Palatino tegetem praeferre cubi i,

Sumere nocturnos meretrix Augusta cucullos;

Linquebat comite ancilla non ampliùs una:

Sed nigrum flavo crinem abscondente galero,

Intravit calidum veteri centone lupanar,

Et c [...]llam vacuam, atque suam. tunc nuda papillis

Prostitit a [...]ratis, titulum mentita Lyciscae,

Ostenditque tuum, generose Britannice, ventrem.

Excepit blanda intrantes, atque aera poposcit▪

Mox l [...]none suas jam dimittente puell [...]s,

Tristis abit: sed, quod potuit, tamen ultima cellam

Clausit, adhuc ardens rigidae tentigine vulvae,

Et lassata viris, necdum satiata rec ssit.

[Page]

—For hear what Claudius doth endure:

Whom whilst his wife believes in sleep secure,

She did prefer before a Princely Bed

The Bawdy-house's smoaky-coverlid.

Th' Emperiall Whore disguis'd from being known,

With Night and Scarfs goes with one Maid alone;

A yellow Periwig her swarthy hairs

Conceals, and she to th' Bawdy-house repairs;

Which from the new-employed bed a fume

Retains. Possessing the then emptied room

She rich adorn'd with naked breasts appears.

Lycisca's name the lying entrance bears.

There, great Britannicus, thy belly's shown.

With a lascivious kindnesse every one

She meets, and asks her hire. When all the Whores.

The Bawd sends home, hers last of all the doors

Was shut. She burning with unquenched fires,

And toil'd with men, not satisfi'd, retires.

[Page]

[Page]

The Second BOOK.

§

The Argument.

Thetis at last, though long delay'd by fears,

Through the calm waves her dear Achilles bears.

Love shews an object to enflame his eyes:

The King receives him hid in a disguise.

BUt Thetis, in the night leaving the caves,

Stood where the Rocks sent Ecchoes from the waves.

And in her unresolved phancy weigh'd,

To what safe place her Son might be convey'd.

She fears, where Mars was born, th' adjacent Thrace;

And dreads the warlike Macedonian race.

Fam'd-Athens too her doubting phancies fear,

With Sestos and Abydos, which appear

Too aptly plac'd for ships. For those lov'd Seas

She now resolves crown'd by the Cyclades.

Nor Myconos, nor Seriphos pleas'd her mind,

Delos, nor Lemnos unto men unkind.

[Page] By Lycomedes Court, she lately stay'd,

And heard the shores sound while the Virgins play'd.

As she was sent to view Aegaeon's bands,

Who strove to loose his hundred-fettered-hands.

This Land, where quarrels no disturbance wrought,

The much distracted Thetis safest thought:

Like a poor Bird, with wavering phansies prest,

That dares not choose a branch to build her nest.

Lest it her brood, should unto storms, or snakes,

Or men expose; at length she likes and takes.

So Thetis on the place resolv'd, prepares

To go, but is assaulted with new cares;

Whether her son should in her breast be laid,

Or through the waves born by a Triton's aid.

Or to the winged winds, his waftage owe,

Or unto Iris Ocean-nourish'd bow;

At last two Dolphines she was pleas'd to rain,

Which by great Tethys, in th' Atlantick main,

For her were bred. The vast unfathom'd flood,

Bore nothing else in all its scaly brood,

So swift, so kind to men; At her command

These staid in waves, least injur'd by the Land.

The sleepy Youth, (for youth may soundly sleep)

She from th' Aemonian cave, bears to the Deep.

The waves and winds becalmed her designes

Assist, and Cynthia in full lustre shines.

For his return the Centaur following pray'd;

Of wav [...]s he knew, he need not be afraid.

[Page] O're-flowing tears, fall from his gazing eyes,

Whilst they upon the rouling billows rise

Now almost out of sight; yet still he gaz'd:

And when with waves they sunk, himselfe he rais'd

Upon his hinder parts, till the waves quite

Had swallow'd all impressions of their flight.

Him that to Thessaly must ne'er return,

Sad Pholoe, and the clouded Othrys mourn:

Sperchios streams, no more with joy swell high;

And Chirons den now wanteth harmony.

The Fauns ament his losse; the Nymphs begin

To mourn their passion's hope, ravish'd with him.

And now the Stars begin to take their flight,

At the approach of Titan's radiant light.

Which from the Ocean rose; whose drops like dew,

Back to its waves the rising Chariot threw.

But Thetis long before, to Scyros came,

And gave her Dolphines liberty again;

When sleep forsook refresh'd Aeacides:

His eyes saluted by the light, and Seas.

To him unknown, for Pelion all amaz'd

He look'd, and on his doubted Mother gaz'd.

Who takes him by the hand, with words thus kind,

Dear child, if he that sure was once design'd,

Had shar'd my marriage-bed, thou hadst been plac'd

With Stars, for ever there by me embrac'd:

[Page] Heav'n had been then thy due inheritance,

Nor had I fear'd the lesser Yates or Chance.

But now thy Father's mortall, there can be

No way for thee to scape death but by me;

And now the sad and fat all time draws near,

Whose dangers are the cause of all myfear.

Forget a while thy Sexe's honour then,

Nor this safe habit which I wear contemn.

If Hercules thus learnt to spin, and round

A javeline bore with winding Ivy crown'd;

If Bacchus in these Ornaments was dress'd,

And Jove himself, nor Ceneus mind depress'd

Thereby; then suffer thus at my desire,

Th' appointed time Fate threatneth to exspire.

Then I'le restore thee to the Centaur's cave.

By all the joyes and glory youth can have,

I do conjure thee now. If I for thee

Shar'd with a Mortall my Divinity?

If by the Stygian arming waves I stood,

And dip'd (I wish, all o're) thee in the flood:

Suffer thyselfe thus now to be conceal'd,

The mind's not hurt with what the body's heal'd.

Why dost thou frown, and turn away thy face?

Needst thou to blush? Is gentlenesse disgrace?

By our known streams, I do assure thee too,

Chiron, nor doth, nor shall know what we doo.

His breast in vain she tries, where rougher seeds

Were sown, and stories of his Father's deeds:

Thus a proud horse, with vigorous blood inflam'd,

And heat of youth, contemneth to be tam'd.

[Page] But doth through fields, and unto rivers flie,

O'rejoy'd with his affected liberty:

He scorns to yield to the restraining Bitt,

And wondreth at his fellows that submit.

What God with craft inspir'd the Mother's mind,

And unto softnesse her rough Son inclin'd?

By chance to Pallas, on the shore that day,

The Syrians did their sacred offerings pay.

Hither the King, with his fair daughters came,

(Though seldome seen) unto the holy flame.

The image of the rigid

Pallas.

Pow'r they crown'd

With fragrant wreaths, her spear with garlands bound;

All wrondrous fair. Their youthfull blossoms grew,

Now like ripe fruit, as fit for gathering too.

But as the Sea-nymphs are by Venus looks

Excell'd, by Cynthia's those of lesser brooks;

So from her Sisters, such lov'd victories

Were challenged by bright Deidamia's eyes.

Her rosy looks did vanquish'd Jewels shame,

And on her purple garments threw a flame;

She might compare with Pallas, when she takes

Her gentlest looks, and layes aside her snakes.

At this fair Object, the fierce Youth remains

Fix't like a Statue, and receiv'd Love's flames.

Nor would th' insulting passion be conceal'd:

His sparkling eyes the inward fire reveal'd.

Like the Massagetans red liquor mixt

With milk, or purple stains on ivory fixt;

[Page] Such mixture his new kindled passions bred:

His cheeks now pale, but straight with blushing red.

At length, not brooking to be so delay'd,

Th' advancing Youth was by his Mother stay'd:

Like a young Bull, to rule the herd design'd,

His horns not yet with full perfection twin'd;

When Love first kindleth in his savage breast,

Those ruder passions for some snowy beast;

He somes at mouth, whilest th' exspecting swains,

Joy at the certain witnesse of his flames.

His knowing Mother, finding the fit time,

Was now, thus said; Canst thou, dear Son, repine

With this fair crue, to share unknown delights?

Can Pelion, or cold Ossa, shew such sights?

Oh that my cares were thine! that thou would'st give

A young Achilles in mine arms to live!

At this, with blushes gentler he remain'd:

And though he yielded, yet she still constrain'd.

A womans dresse, doth now the youth enclose,

And his strong arms, he learns how to compose.

His hair's not now neglected as before:

And on his neck, she hangs the chain she wore.

Within rich robes, his steps confined now

Move in a gentler pace; and he's taught how

To speak with a reserved modesty,

Thus changing Wax, which nimble fingers plie,

First rendered soft by active heat, inclines

Unto that form the workman's hand designes.

[Page] So Thetis to another shape convey'd

Her Son. Nor needed she to what she said,

Have added more: For in his beauty too,

All things appear'd, which to the sex were due.

Yet as they went along, she still renews

Her words, and her instructions thus pursues;

Dear Child, in gentle looks compose thy face,

And imitate each motion, and each grace.

Thou seest these beauties wear, or else I fear,

Unto the King our cous'nage, may appear.

This said, still as they go some Ornament

Her busie fingers mend. Thus Cynthia went

From hunting with her Mother; toil'd with sport,

And with her quiver, to her Father's Court;

Her arms now hid, her garments losely flow'd,

And in a better form her hair bestow'd.

Then to the King, her Son the goddesse brings,

And thus, the Altars witnessing, begins.

Receive Achilles Sister, as thy guest,

Are not her Brothers looks in hers express'd?

She in her quiver, and her bow delights,

And, like the Amazons, scorns marriage-rites.

Achilles is enough to be enjoy'd

By me: Let this in these rites be employ'd.

Let thy best care of her allay my fears,

Errors are incident to tender years.

Let her not rove the woods, nor Gymnick game

Frequent, lest with her cloathes she put off shame.

Let her still live with this fair company,

Nor ever let thy shores unguarded lie.

[Page] Thou saw'st the Trojans lately, without cause,

Did violate the world's observed Laws.

This said, the unknown Youth the King receives,

(Who finds out fraud when 'tis a God deceives?)

And further, rendreth all his thanks as just

To her, who thought him worthy such a trust.

The pious troup, with fixed eyes amaz'd

Upon his beauty, and proportion gaz'd

So much excelling others, then invites

Their company unto their sacred rites.

So the Idalian birds, that nimbly flye

Through yielding air, in a known company.

If to the flock, a stranger joyn his wings,

He with himself an admiration brings:

At last acquainted all with joy, receave

The stranger, and the aire together cleave.

The lingring Mother, still yet loth to part,

Now takes her leave, repeating all the art

She taught before, and what she more could tell,

And with her whispered wishes bids Farewell;

Then takes the waves: her looks still backward bends,

And to the shore, these gentle wishes sends.

Dear earth, which hold'st my dearest joy, to thee

Committed with a fearfull subtilty;

Be ever happy and in silence just

To me, as Creet to Rhea in her trust:

[Page] Long may thy glories last, and may thy name

Grow greater then the wandring Delos fame:

Lesse hurt by storms, then all the Cyclades,

That break the billows of th' Aegean seas.

Let thy name be the Sailer's sacred vow:

Yet to thy shores no Grecian ships allow.

Tell Fame, with thee no warlike spears are found,

But headlesse ones with Ivy-garlands Crown'd.

Whilst Mars, the parted Worlds, such rage doth give,

Here let Achilles like a Virgin live.

ANNOTATIONS on the II Book of STATIUS his ACHILLEIS.

5. THrace.] Thetis considering with her self, whither she might with most safety convey her Son, in the first place feared Thrace, conceiving that it would be an hastening of his destiny, to commit him to that warlick people; Whose Country received its name from the son of Mars; or, as Stephanus saith, à regionis asperitate, quam [...], Graeci appellant. So Pomponius witnesseth, that this Region is obliged neither by aire nor soil, especially near the Sea. The roughnesse of the place wrought a like disposition in the Inhabitants: And hence haply it is said, that Mars was here nourished. It is confined on the West by Macedonia, and the River Nessus, as Ptolomy; but by Strymon, as Plinie saith. See Thucydides, lib. 2.

6. The Warlick Macedonian race.] Macedonia bordereth on Thrace, Epirus▪ Illyris, and Thessalie; so called from Macedo, son of Osiris, or (as Stephanus and Solinus) of Jupiter and Thyria, daughter of Deucalion. Thucydides, lib. 2. praiseth them for an hardy and warlick people: But Statius had more reason to give them that character, as living after Alexander the Great's time, whose Victories were that Nation's greatest glorie. In their Militia, the Phalanx had the pre-eminence. This Nero imitated, Sueton. Nerone, ubi vide Casaubonum. [Page] This steady Band consisted all of tall and able Souldiers, six foot high, or thereabouts, and [...], as Suidas saith, of equall age. The like policy the Turk useth in the choice of his Janizaries, and with no lesse successe.

7. Athens.] This place also the goddesse held not safe to trust Achilles in, by reason perhaps of the great confluence of strangers thither, it being the most famous City in all Greece, scated in Attica, about forty furlongs from the Sea, as Strabo, lib. 9. Thucydides, lib. 2 saith, It was at its greatest height in the time of Pericles. It was the Mother of many Philosophers, and Orators, and Poets, and (as Tullie styleth it) the Mistresse of all human Sciences. But in the time of Synesius, it retained no such excellency, Epist. 135. It was called Cecropia, from Cecrops who first built it, and reigned in it; afterwards Mopsopia, from Mopsus; lastly, Athens, from Minerva, whom the Greeks call [...], quasi [...], because she never sucked the breast, nor had need to do it; at her first springing from Jove's brain, being not an Infant, but a mature Virago, of full stat [...]re and strength. To this derivation, Cael. Rhodiginus assenteth, lib. 14. c. 18. Macrobius, Saturnal. l. 1. c. 17. saith, It was the opinion of Porphyrie, that Minerva was the vertue of the Sun, which infuseth prudence into the minds of men. For therefore is this goddesse said to have issued from the head of Jupiter; that is, Wisdom commeth from the highest part of Heaven, whence the Sun hath its Originall. [...] also, which signifyeth not- [...]ffeminate, or manly, doth not onely come near to the name, but also agreeth with the nature of this goddesse, who was still pictured in a warlick posture, with an Helmet, a Spear, and a Shield, and said to have a great stroke in all actions of War, which ever depend upon Wisdom. This was the chief plea that Ʋ [...]ysses used against Ajax, when they strove for Achilles's Armour, That Ajax his valour had been useless, without Ʋlysses's policy to direct it, Ovid. Metam. lib. 13.

11. Myconos.] One of the Cyclades, under which the Poets feign those Giants to have been buried, that were slain by Hercules. The Inhabitants are said to have been so subject to baldnesse, that a bald man was wont proverbially to be called a Myconian: Plin. l. 11. c. 37.

¶ Seriphos.] The Poet giveth it the epithet humilis, haply by reason of its small compasse, which is but twelve miles, as Plinie saith. So Juvenal,—parvâque Seripho, Sat. 10. The whole world, he saith, was not wide enough for the young man of Pella, (so he calleth Alexander the Great) but when he had it all to turn him in he found himself pittifully straitned for want of room, like one [Page] cooped up in little Seriphos. The people of this Isle Perseus transformed into stones, by shewing them his Gorgon's head, to revenge his forced mother. Yet long before, Acrisius having thrown his mother Danae and him into the Sea, they were cast upon this Island, and taken up by a fisher-man, and here preserved.

12. Delos.] This was placed in the middle of the Cyclades, and most famous of them all, by reason of Apollo's Oracle there, consulted from most parts of the world. The Fable of its first becomming firm land, see in Plinie, lib. 4. c. 12. Strabo, lib. 10. and Servius, in Virg. Aen. 3. who relate, that it first appeared to receive the burden of Latona, who was here delivered of Apollo and Diana▪ It hath its name from [...], manifestus, perspicuus, Macrob. Saturnal. l. 1. c. 17. being said to have risen up on a sudden above the waves. Some think it worthy of this name from its Oracles; I wonder why, for they were seldome manifest. But Servius, and Alexander ab Alex. l. 6. c. 2. say, The Oracle here was clear, when all others were obscure. After this Island had appeared, it continued for some time loose, and floated up and down, untill at last it was fixed by Diana. Seneca Agamemnone act. 2. Chor.

—Tu maternam

Sistere Delon, Lucina, jubes

Hue atque illuc priùs errantem

Cyclada ventis. Nunc jam stabilis

Fixa terras radice tenet.

Thou didst thy mother's Delos bind,

Wandring before, drove by the wind

Among the Cyclades: Now it stands

Fix'd to the earth with rooted bands.

Servius in Aen. 3. saith, The truth is, that Delos being shaken by a constant Earth-quake, the Inhabitants petitioning Apollo that they might be freed from it, were enjoyned thence-forward to bury none in the Island. And Alexander ab Alex. lib. 6. c. 2. writeth, That all such as were near dying, and all women ready to be delivered, were carried over to the Island Rhene. Thucydides lib. 3. saith, That when Delos was totally hallowed by the Athenians, (Pisistratus the Tyrant having before hallowed as much as was within the prospect of the Temple) they took away all the Sepulchers, and made an Edict, That none should either be born or buried there for the future; but when any were near the time for either, [Page] they should be removed into Rhe [...]e. In the dispute between Pausanias and the Athenians, about Title to this Island, the Athenians alledging this Edict of theirs, Pausanias wittily demanded, How it could be their Island, seeing none of them had either been born or buried in it, Plutarch in Apophth. Rhene is so near to it, that when it was won by Polycrates, he dedicated it to Apollo, and tied it to Delos with a chain. Divers Games were here celebrated, as Thucydides affirmeth, and Homer, Hymno in Apollinem; who ending their praises, thus also leaveth his own, vers. 165.

[...],

[...]

[...]

[...],

[...]

[...];

[...],

[...].

Let Phoebus and Diana's kindnesse dwell

Still here: And now to every one Farewel.

But yet remember when I leave this land,

And among all some pilgrim shall demand,

Who was't, O Virgins, that with harmony

Could most affect your charmed ears? Reply

With one consent, and thus my praises tell,

A Poet blind, in Chios who doth dwell.

Lemnos unto men unkind.] This is an Island in the Aegean Sea, called Ardens by Seneca, Herc. Oet. v. 1362. It is described by Valerius Flaccus, Argonaut. lib. 2. Here Cicero, de natura deprum, placeth Vulcan's Forge. Statius, Thebaidos l. 5.

—Aeg [...]o premitur circumstua Nereo

Lemnos, ubi ignisera fessus respirat ab Aetna

Mulciber.

To Lemnos in th' Aegean waves retires

The wearied Mulciber from Aetna's fires.

Here Vulcan was bred, and had in great veneration. In his injuries the Inhabitants held themselves so concerned, that they [Page] hated Venus for her adultery with Mars, Alexand▪ ab Alex. l. 2. c. 14. Wherear the goddesse being exasperated, infused such hatred into the women against their husbands, that they took counsell to slay them all at their return from the Thracian War; and did so to all, except Hypsipyle, who saved her father Thoas. The story we have in Statius, Theb. lib. 5.

15. Aegaeons bands.] Aegaeon the son of Heaven and Earth, (Hesiod. in Theogon) was called by Thetis to assist Jupiter, when Pallas, Juno, and Neptune would have fetter'd him, Lucian. dial. Martis & Mercurii: But afterwards waxing insolent, (as most are wont to do after great merits) was himself fetter'd by Jupiter to the Rocks of the Aegean Sea. And now Neptune having given notice, that he was endeavouring to unloose his hundred hands, Jupiter sent Thetis to view his chains. She passing by Scyros, and seeing King Lycomedes his daughters at their innocent recreations, and the Island filled with effeminate Inhabitants, thought presently no place could be more fit for her son's concealment, and resolved thither to bring him. This Giant was named Briareus by the gods, Aegaeon by men, Homer. Iliad. [...]. v. 403. by Lucian [...], Briareum centimanum; and therefore was he bound with an hundred chains, as our Poet here saith. By Virgil he is placed in hell by Chimaera, Aen 6. The rest of the Giants also are fixed in their severall places by the Poets, as Otus in Creet, Typhoeus in Campania, Enceladus in Sicily, whose burning Tomb is made famous by Claudian's Muse, de raptu Proserp. l. 1.

Enceladi bustum, qui saucia membra revinctus

Spirat inexhaustum flagranti pectore sulfur:

Et quoties detrectatonus cervice rebelli

In dextrum laevumque latus, tunc Insula fundo

Ʋellitur, & dubiae nutant cum moenibus urbes.

Vast-limb'd Enceladus here buried lies,

From whose hot breast unwasted sulfur flies.

As often as o're-laden with his burd'n,

To ease his wearied side he strives to turn,

The motion makes the heaved Island quake,

And with their walls the tottering Cities shake.

28. Iris Ocean-nourish'd Bow.] Iris [...] nuncio, because the Rainbowe telleth of rain either past or to come, Magir. lib. 4. cap. 5. Our Poet calleth her Thaumantida. In Greek she is called [...]. [Page] And there is no Meteor so worthy of wonder. Its many colours are caused by the reflection of the Sun-beams on a watry-clowd. Aristot. Meteorol. lib. 3. Iris [...]st arcus multicolor in nube roride, op [...]c [...], & concava, ex radiorum Solis oppositi reflexione apparens. Virgil. Aen. 4.

Ergo Ir's croce is per coelum roscida pennis,

Mille trahens varios adverso Sole colores.

Swift Iris therefore with her dewy wings,

On which the Sun a thousand colours flings.

The difference of its colours ariseth onely from the unequall parts of the clowds. According to Aristotle they are three, Funiceus, Ʋiridis, Caruleus. Others make them five, as Ammianus Marcellinus, who calleth the first Luteam speciem, a palish Yellow; the second, nearer a Tawny; the third, Red; the fourth, Purple; the last, a mixture of Blew and Green. But it is a strange error in Philosophers, to define the colours of the Rain-bowe, and they almost all differ about them. Yet are the colours they quarrell about not reall, but apparent onely; as the skie seemeth blew, which without doubt is not blew indeed. Nor is it possible, at so great a distance, to describe colours certainly. All that can be said, is, That they appear such to the eye. Marcellinus, lib. 20. taketh occasion, from the appearing of a Rain-bow, while Constantius besieged Amida, to treat of the reasons of the Rain-bowe, and why the Poets feigned, that Iris was so oft sent from heaven, Indicium est, saith he, permutationis aurae, à sudo aere nubium concitans globos, aut contrà ex concreto immutans in serena [...]s laetitiam coelum. Ideo apud Poet [...] ▪ legimus saepe, Irim de coelo mitti, cùm praesentium rerum fit statûs mutario. That is, It is a signe of alteration of weather, gathering clowds in clear skies; or, on the contrary, changing thicknesse into serenity. Therefore we often read in the Poets of Iris being sent from heaven, when there was any alteration made of the present state of affairs. Of this fancy of the Poets, see Gyraldi Syntagm. 9. For the Philosophie, experience contradicteth it. And Plinie saith, Nec pluvias nec serenos dies cum fide ab Iride portehdi. They held, the Rain-bowe was nourish'd by the Ocean, by reason of both the Sun's and the Clowds arising from thence. Scaliger, Exercit. 10. Sect. 11. speaketh of a Rainbowe that appeared in the night-time, and was seen by Albertus and many others. And Ʋi [...]eilio, in his answer to the E. of Mirandula, concerning the possibility of a Rain-bow's seeming entirely circular, though not being so, affirmeth, that he saw four such at once in Padua.

[Page] 33. So swift, so kind to men] Plinie saith, Dolphins are the swiftest of all fish, and a morous. Agellius, lib. 7. c. 8. relateth a story of a Dolphin▪ that loved a Boy so passionately, that his life was tied to the Boy's life. The same Author, lib. 16. c. 19 out of Herodotus, setteth down the story of Arion's being carried by a Dolphine, charmed by his Musick, Ʋirg. Ecl. 8. ‘Orpheus in [...]ilvis, inter Delphin [...]s Arion.’ The story is also related by Plutarch in Symp. but most sweetly by the sweetest of all the Poets, Fast. lib. 2. who thus describeth Arion, when the covetous Mariners threatned him with drawn swords.

Ille metu pavidus, Mortem non deprecor inquit;

Sed liceat sumta pauca referre lyra.

Dant veniam, ridentque moram. Capit ille coronam,

Quae possit crines, Phoebe, decere tuos.

Induerat Tyrio distinctam murice pallam.

Reddidit ict a suos pollice chorda sonos.

Flebilibus numeris veluti, canentia dura

Trajectus penna tempora, cantat olor.

Protinus in medios ornatus defilit undas.

Spargitur impulsa caerula puppis aqua.

Inde (fide majus!) tergo Delphina recurvo

Se memorant oneri supposuisse n [...]vo.

Ille sedet, citharamque tenet, pretiumque vehendi

Cantat, & aequoreas carmine mulcet aquas.

He frighted, cries; I ask but that you'd give

Me leave to touch my Harp, not leave to live.

They grant it, [...]miling at his fond delay,

Whilst he assumes a Crown, which, Phoebus, may

Become thy locks, and on his shoulders bound

A purple Robe. The stricken strings then sound.

The dying Swan so, when his fate begins

Near to approach, in mournfull numbers sings.

And so adorn'd, he leapt into the flood:

On the ship's sides the dash'd up waters stood▪

When straight his crooked back a Dolphin show'd,

And plac'd it under the unusuall load▪

He sits, holding his Harp, and whilst he plaies,

The Sea growes calm, and for his portage payes.

[Page] 48. Otbrys.] A Mountain bounding Thessalie on the South, Herod [...] ▪ l. 7. It hath on the West-side Phthiotis, Strab. lib. 9.

51. The Fawns lament his losse.] These were Silvane gods, whose Chief [...]as Pa [...], lascivious like all his followers, who were held strangely amorous of men and women. The Chorus in Seneca, Hippol. act 2 believe it impossible, that Hippolytus living in the woods, should escape being sollicited by them:

—Te nemore abditum,

Cum Titan medium constituit diem,

Ci [...]get turba lice [...]s, Na [...]ades improbae

Formosos solitae cla [...]dere fontibus:

Et somnis facient insidias tuis

L [...]s [...]ivae nemo r [...]m deae,

Montiv [...]gique Panes.

For whilst in shades you bide, and day's

Divided by the god of Rayes,

The Naiades thy beauty moves,

Who in their fountains shut their Loves:

And the lascivious gods that keep

In woods, will court thee in thy sleep.

The question, Whether Spirits affect carnall copulation, hath been disputed by many: I shall onely relate these few opinions. P [...]utar [...]h de Or [...]culor. defect. saith, that fury attendeth their unsatiated last Paracelsus relateth stories of some; who have been married to mortall men. Cardane, de Subtilit. & variet. rerum. saith, They are as apt as dogs to be familiar with men. Plato was believed to have been begotten on a Virgin by the phantasm of Apollo, by reason of his admirable wisdom. Cardane, de var. & subt rer. lib. 16. c. 43. speaketh of some, who had had familiar company with Spirits for many years. And Agrippa, de occ [...]lta Philos. lib. 3. cap. 24. saith, Sunt adhu [...] [...]o [...]ie qui commercium & conjugalem commixtionem habent cum Daemonibus. Burton in his MELANCHOLY relateth a story of Menippus Lucius, That between Cen [...]hrea and C [...]rinth he met a Spirit, in the habit of a fair Gentlewoman; and, deceived by her allurements, married her. To the Wedding, among other guests, came Apollonius, who by conjectures found her to be a Spirit. When she saw her self discovered, she begged of Apollonius to be silent: But he refusing, she vanished with all her house and furniture. Sabinus, in Ovid▪ Metam. lib. 10. hath the like story. Florilegus, ad Ann. 1 [...]58. telleth of a young Gentleman of Rome, who, the same [Page] day he was married, going to play at Tennis, put his ring on the finger of the image of Ʋenus; and returning to take off his ring, Ʋenus had bent-in her finger so that he could not get it off. Whereupon loath to make his company stay, he left it, intending the next day to use some other means for it. Night being come, and going to bed to his Bride, Venus interposed between, telling him, He had betrothed himself to her by the ring he put upon her finger; and thus troubled him for many nights, till by the advice of Palumbus a Magician, he was released from his unwelcome Lover. Lavater, de spectr. part. 1. cap. 19. telleth this story, I have heard, saith he, a grave and a wise man, in the Territory of Tigure, who affirmed, that as he and his servant went through the pastures in the summer time, very early, he espied one (as he thought) whom he knew very well, wickedly committing lewdnesse with a Mare. At which being amazed, he returned back again, and knocked at his house whom he supposed he had seen. There he certainly understood, that the man had not been that morning from his chamber. Ʋpon which, discreetly searching into the businesse, he saved the man, who else had suffered for the deluding Damon. Corn. Agrip. de ocult. Philos. l. 3. c. 19. citeth a passage in St. Augustine, that Spirits are subject to these lusts. And Mr. Burton quoteth Pererius in Gen. lib. 8. c. 6. v. 1. who affi meth, that these Genii can beget, and have carnall copulation with women. In that fair Temple of Belus, as Herodotus saith, there was a Chappell, in which was splendidè stratus lectus, & apposita [...]ens [...] aurea. Into this adorned bed none came, but the woman whom the god made choice of, as the Chaldean Priests told him; and their god lay with her himself. Of this opinion is Lactantius. And Lipsius relateth proofs thereof in his daies, in the City of L [...]vain. Further discourse on this point I shall reserve for a place more worthy of it.

75. If Hercules thus learn'd to spin.] The [...] is being come to the Island where she intended to place her son, letteth him know, that for his safety, she would put him into woman's habit. And knowing that the greatnesse of his spirit would scorn such a disguise, she sertteth Hercules before him, who at the command of Omphale in such a dresse sat spinning, Seneca Hippolyto, act. 1.

Natus Al [...]mtna posuit pharetram,

Et minax vasti spolium Leonis,

Passus aptari digiti [...] smaragdos,

Et dari legem rudibus c [...]pillis.

Crura distincto religavit [...]uro,

Luteo p'ant [...] cohibente socco:

[Page] Et manu, clavam modo quâ gerebat,

Fr [...]d deduxit properante fuso.

Ʋidit Perses, ditisque s [...]r [...]x

Lydia regni, dejecta seri

Terga Leonis, bumerisqu [...], quibus

Sederat alti regia coeli,

Tenu [...]m Tyrio stamine pallam.

Ʋid. Herc. Furent. v. 465. & Herc. Oct. v. 372.

Great Hercules once threw away

His Quiver and the Lion's prey:

His fingers he adorns with rings,

And his rude hair in order brings:

His legs with gold embraced round,

His feet with yellow buskins bound:

That hand, which so well arm'd had been

With his great Club, now learns to spin;

By Persians and rich Lydians scorn'd,

Not with his Lion's skin adorn'd.

Those shoulders on which Heav'n should rest

Were in a woman's habit drest.

77. If Bacchus] Bacchus also disguised himself in a Virgin's habit, for fear of his mother-in-law Juno, Senec. O [...]dip. v. 417. Mythologers understand this of the effects of Wine, which sometimes rendreth men esteminate, and otherwhile giveth courage to the most womanish mind: And therefore was Bacchus said to be of both sexes. Origen lib. 3. contra Celsum saith, that Bacchus was thought sometimes to have worn a woman's habit. Eusebius, de Pr [...]p. Evang. l. 3 c. 9. giveth this reason, why a woman's form (and therefore habit) was ascribed to [...]acchus, [...]t vim illam quae plantarum fructi [...]us i [...]est ex mascula foemineaque conflatam significet; To signifie, that the strength was of both kinds by which fruits were produced.

78. And Jove himself.] The story is commonly known: Jupiter going to visit the world, injur'd by Phaeton's Lightning, employed his first care on Arcadia; where his eyes told his heart such wonders of Colisto's beauty, that he counterfeited the shape and dresse of Dianae, (Quis Divûm fraudibus obstet?) and so enjoyed the deceived Calisto, [...]. Metamorph. lib. 2.

[...] Coeneus] Who being ravished by Neptune, and having the grant of [...]ish for her recompence, desired to alter her sex, that she might [...]r suffer such a misfortune more. Unto this the too kind god [Page] added her beeing invulnerable. Yet in the battell of the Centaurs, and the Lapithae, she was pressed to death: So impossible it is for power, any way applied in this world, to alter destiny. Nor do our fond attempts give occasion to Him above, to appoint new accidents: It is He, that permits those fond attempts, and letteth them be the means of those accidents, which we would most avoid. The fable sometimes goeth, that she had power to change her sex. Otherwise the sense remaineth not perfect. In the other World, Virgil sheweth her in her first sex, Aen. 6. v. 448.

—Et juvenis quondam, nunc foemina, Coeneus,

Rursus & in veterem fato revoluta figuram.

And Coeneus once a Youth, but now a Maid,

By fate into her former sex convey'd.

85. If by the Stygian arming waves.] Thetis to prevent the mortality of Achilles, which he had received from his Father, dipped him in the Stygian flood, all but the heel, which she held by; In which mortall part, he was shot by Paris. By this River, the gods took their inviolable Oaths, Virg. Aen. 6. Seneca, Thyest. v. 667. giveth it this Character,

Deformis unda, quae facit caelo fidem.

And Homer, Odyss. [...].

— [...]

[...].

The greatest Oath among the blessed Gods.

The fable is, that Victoria the daughter of Styx, assisted Jupiter in his War against the Giants; For which service, he gave this honour to her Mother, that the gods should swear by her, and inviolably keep their Oath, or else be banished from the banquets of the gods. This affordeth some illustration to verse 213. Where Thetis wishing honour to the Island Scyros, saith,

Let thy name be the Seamans sacred vow.

The Viscount, St. Albanes, Sapient. Vet. applieth this to the Leagues and Covenants of Princes, which by reason of interest, are preciselier observed, than more sacred ones. Natalis Comes, [...]ytholog. l. 3. c. 2. saith, that Styx discovered the conspiracy of the [Page] gods, and that therefore, perhaps Jove made that Water their obliging Oath. Aristotle, M [...]taphys. l. 1. c. 3. conceiveth, that the Poets by this fiction, intended to signifie, that water is the original of all things. So Thales Milesius said, that, water is initium rerum; Deum autem, eam Meutem quae, ex aqua cuncta fingeret, as Cicero saith, De nat. Deox. lib. 1. according to that of Moses, Gen. 1. 2. So the god's Oath seemeth to have been by the first beginning of things. Other reasons may be seen in Cal. R [...]odiginus, lib. 27. c. 5. Of this opinion, Plutarch sheweth Homer to be, lib. De Homero, where he citeth Thales for it; and, after them, Xenophanes. The reasons of whose conjecture, Eusebius giveth, De praepar. Evang. lib. 14. c. 14. Servius in Aen. 6. saith, Acheron hath its name, qua [...] [...], sine ga [...]dio: From whence, Styx cometh; from Styx, Cocytus. Whose Etymologies he thus bringeth along; They, who want Joy, have Sadnesse, which is neighbour to Grief, the production of Death. The Poets feigned these Rivers to be unpleasant: So must Death needs be to those, who placing their joyes in this World, part with both together. By Victory, daughter of Styx, may be intimated the power of Death, who assisted Jupiter; in that the Gyants were mortall: shewing the vastnesse of their crimes, which make the true War with God, and want but eternity for themselves, to make their crimes perpetuall. All this signifieth but the series of Life and Death, not more of sorrow belonging to our ends, then to our beginnings. Man is born unto Sorrow, saith Eliphaz, Job 5. 7. And according to this sense, Plutarch speaketh, whose words I have taken the liberty, to dresse in verse;

Sicut qui argillam tractat, fingere

Ex ea animalis fo [...]mam potest,

Rursúmque diffingere, iterúmque ae

Quoties libet perpetuò vices istasrepetere:

Sic etiam Natura ex eadem materia

Olim avos nosiros, postea patres pro-

tulit, deinde nos, ac deinceps a-

lios ex aliis evolvet. Ac fluvius

Ille ortûs nostri absque intermis-

sione labens nunquam subsistet;

Sicut & interitûs flumen hujus

C [...]ntrarium, five is Acheron est.

Prima ergo Causa, quae nobis Solis offendit

J [...]bar, eadem ad calig [...]iosum Orcum adducit.

[Page]

As one that chafes the pliant clay, may bring

The substance to the form of any thing;

Again, destroy the species, and by skill

Repeat the same as often as he will:

So nature also at the first, from clay

Our Ancestors did to the World convay,

Our fathers next; to them do we succeed,

Others to us; and they shall others breed.

This flood of Life, flows at a constant rate,

Consuming still, as do the streams of Fate.

This flood's Cocytus, or else Acheron,

Which stream the Poets set those names upon.

Thus the first cause, which shews us the Sun-light,

Restores us back unto Eternall night.

120. Receiv'd Love's flames.] Those thoughts of glory, that would not suffer Achilles to consent to his kind Mother's advice, yield to Love's power, by which all the World is fettered. Which matter is excellently expressed by Seneca, Hippolyt. act. 1. Chor. The greatnesse of which power, joyned to the swiftnesse of its execution, made the Antients believe, it was a fascination; So Dido, at the first sight of Aeneas, received a passion as durable as her life, since she could find no way but one, to end both. The amorous Sappho, having expressed all the symptoms of a powerfull passion, exspecteth the same fate.

—Velut herba pallent

Ora: spirandi neque compos, Orco

Proxima credor.

My lips grow pale, and my disordered breath

Is spent in sighs: sure, the next thing is death.

Ex interpretatione Henrici Stephani. According to these examples, there is reason enough to believe Claudians amorous begger;

Paupertas me saeva domat, dir [...]sque Cupido:

Sed toleranda fames, non tolerandus amor.

In Loves and Fortunes fetters I remain:

One may endure the hunger, not the flame.

[Page] Aelian, Variae hist. lib. 12. c. 58 relateth the story of Dioxippus, the famous Wrestlet of Athens; Who coming into the City, as the manner was, after those exercises, fell in Love with a Maid, (like Achilles here) at the first sight, as he passed along.

123. Massagetans.] A people of Scythia, inhabiting Caucasus, who used to break such in pieces, as died of old age, and to throw such to Wild beasts, as died of diseases, Strabe. lib 2. They worshipped the Sun chiefly; to whom they offered an Horse. When they travelled through a wildernesse, they were wont to drink Horses blood mingled with milk. So Claudian,

Et qui cornipedes in pocula vulaer [...]t aud [...]x

Massagetes.

170. Altars witnessing.] It was an observed custom, when any thing of cons [...]q [...]ence was to be said, or petitioned for, to do it before the Altars of the gods. So when I [...]rbas heard of Dido's passion for Aeneas, Aen. 4.

Isque amens animi, & rumore acceusus amaro,

Dicitur an [...]e [...]aras, m [...]dia inter numina Divûm, &c.

Enrag'd ('t is said) at this unwelcome fame,

Among the Altars of his Gods he came.

This he did, that he might perform that usuall ceremony of hol [...] ing the Altars; as a little below, ‘Talibus orantem dictis, [...]rásque tenentem.’ And the same Prince of Poets, Aen. 12. ‘Tango [...]ras, [...]edios ignes acnumina testor.’

And Macrobius, Saturnal. lib. 3. c. 2. saith, that Jupiter heard him, non quia orabat tan [...]ùm, sed quia & aras tenebat. And he citeth Vario, Divin. lib. 5. who saith, Aras primùm dictas, quòdesset necess [...] rium à sacrificantibus eas teneri. Ansis autem solere teneri vasa, quis duhitet? Alexander a [...] Alexandro. lib 2. c. 18. saith, It was a custom for those that were piously praying to the gods, to embrace their knees, i. e. the knees of their Statues. And this certainly, is the onely meaning of that in Juvenal, 8 a [...]. 10. 55. ‘[Page] —genua incerare Deorum.’ But because incero signifieth to cover with wax, some hold, that they waxed-on their Petitions on the knees of their Statues. Turnebus lib. 1. cap. 17. saith, That they he [...]d the Statues with such assiduous fervency, ut sudore incrassarentur, & videretur illis quas [...] cera superposita. Were it possible this place should still remain unperfect, after its having passed through so many learned hands, I should guesse the word insuccare, to make moist, more apt to the sense, especially to the interpretation of the most learned Turnebus.

159. Nor Gymnick game.] Gymnad [...]s, from [...], Exerceo; or rather from [...], Nu [...]o. For they which exercised these Games were all naked. These were invented by Lycaon of Arcadia. And the Spartan Vi [...]gins used to practise all manly exercises naked. Alexand. ab Alex. lib. 2. c. 25.

208. As Creet to Rhea.] Thetis having now taken leave of her disguised son, and being entred the waves, turneth her eyes towards the Island, and beggeth of it to perform its trust as justly, as Creet had done to Rhea: Who, when her husband Saturn intended to murder all his children, being told that he should have one, who would depose him from his throne, hid her son Jupiter in Dicte, a Mountain of Creet, where the Corybantes her Priests, with their sounding Brasse, drowned the noise of the child's crying, Natalis Comes. lib. 2. c. 1. Saturn was a great devourer of children, for to him the Carthagenians offered their sons, Plato in Minoe. By Saturn was understood Time; by Jupiter, Heaven, which is not subject to the power of Time: And therefore was it said, that Jupiter was not devoured by Saturn. Gaffard in his Curiosities, part. 3. chap 11. sect 8. saith, The antient Hebrews stood in much dread of the malignancy of the Planet Saturn. And the Chaldeans, who gave themselves over to the worshipping of false gods, observing this Star to be hurtfull, thought good by some sacrifice to render it more propitious to them. And no sacrifice being fitter than that on which it wrought its sad effects, they began to sacrifice children to it under the name of Moloch. And this, he believeth, was the originall of the Fable, why Saturn was said to devour his children. And the Priests were said to have made a noise with their brasse, to drown young Jupiter's crie, from the custom which they had to make such [Page] noises when the children passed through the fire to Moloch; which was no other then some particular Daemon-rite. For MOLOCH signifieth as much as BAAL. So we read, Psal. 106. 37. Mactârunt [...] s [...]s & filias daemonii [...], as Mr. Selden rendreth it, De Dî [...] Syris, cap. de MOLOCH; to whom, and Saturn, children were the usuall sacrifices, as he there sheweth.

[Page]

The Third BOOK.

§

The Argument.

An Oath obligeth the revengefull Greeks,

At Aulis took. The sly Ulysses seeks

The wish'd Achilles; who, disguis'd, doth move

Unto the Conquest of his Mistresse Love.

IN the mean while, the fatall love of Arms

Stirrs the fierce Greeks. The Princes give th'alarms,

Soliciting revenge. The Ilians crime

They thus enlarge; that in a quiet time,

No wars, the *

[Helen

daughter of great Jove by them

Was injur'd, with the Laws of god and men.

How shall the common people fare, if thus

They venture first their injuries on us?

Thus all prepar'd for war; not alone

The Inhabitants of Pelopon [...]esus.

those

Whom the two Oceans do almost enclose,

[Page] Or round Malea dwell, but also those

Who do inhabit where *

The Hellespont.

Propontis flows.

Europe from Asia parting, and again

Those where the waves spread in a larger Main.

The wretched love of war warm'd every breast.

Fam'd Temesa gave Brass; rigg'd Navies press'd

The waves of the Euboean shores; and in

Mycoena, strokes of hammer'd Armor ring.

Her Chariots Pisa sends for warlick use,

Nemaean-shades the skins of Beasts produce.

Cyrrha the Quiver fills; and for the Shields

Lerna gives Hides: the bold Acarnan yields

Bodies of Foot▪ so doth th' Aetolian; Horse,

In Troops from Argos sent, compl [...]at the force,

Fetch'd from Arcadia's fair now-emptied plains.

For war her famous breed Epirus trains.

Aonian Woods and Phocis Arrows lend:

Their Engines Pilos and Messana send.

No place left free. They Arms from Pillars tore,

There by their Ancestors hung long before.

The gifts to gods the melting flames devour,

Alter'd to serve a far severer Pow'r.

No antient shades on th'hills must longer grow:

Taygetus now and Othrys naked show.

Great Oaks for Ships, lesse Trees for Oars they trim:

Whole Woods do now on the vast Ocean swim.

Iron by skilfull workmen is design'd

For various use; the beaks of Ships to bind.

[Page] For Armor, and for Bridles, and for Nails

On arming-coats, set like to fishes scales;

For Swords, for Darts, which, dipp'd in poison, throw

Death in the wounds they give. The whetstones grow

With sharpned weapons thin. Some pieces bring

In forms for Bowes, some Bullets for the Sling

Prepare, some harden Stakes, some places gave

To Helmets where th'advanced Plumes should wave.

Among these tumults Thessalie remains

Alone unactive, and alike complains

That Peleus was too old, his son too young.

All-emptied Greece, now mad with fury, throng

To Ships, the crowded shores do seem to glow,

And sensible of heat the billows show:

The justled waves seem to present a storm;

The Ships that raise it on the swellings born.

Under their weight the Ocean almost fails,

And all the winds scarce serve to fill their sails.

At first the waves by rocky Aulis bore

The swarming Greeks, the much affected shore

Of Cynthia. There loud

Proteus

Caphareus shows

His head, and back to th'waves, their clamors throws.

When all these swarms of sails came to his sight,

Thrice he presag'd a sad prodigious night.

Here first Troy's fatall foes-united are,

And all by Oath oblige themselves for war,

[Page] Untill the Sun had pass'd one annuall course,

And Greece appear'd in her united force.

Into a formed Army they compose

Their diff'ring people, and a Generall chose.

So the wild multitude that shades enjoys,

Enclos'd with toils, frighted with fire and noise,

Fly to imprisoning valleys, and admire

To see their Mountain lessen by the fire.

There the wild multitude know equall fear.

The Boar, the Woolf, together with the Bear

Imprisoned lie: the fearfull Harts by them

The fetter'd Lions in the toils contemn.

Though both th' Atridae with the Army came,

And Diomede ambitious of great fame,

With Sthen'lus, and Antilochus appears

More mindfull of the war than of his years.

Though Ajax brought his Shield of seven hides,

In compasse like a swelling Mountain sides.

Though slie Ulysses was among the rest;

Yet of Achilles all a want express'd.

His name brings joy. He must be Hector's fate,

And ruine of great Priam and his State.

"For whose first steps but his were taught to go

"In the Aemonian Valleys thorough Snow?

"Whose youth such rigid principles was taught?

"His line from Heav'n so directly brought?

"For whom, but him, such care would Thetis have,

"To arm his fair limbs with the Stygian wave?

[Page] This through the Camp while all the Greeks proclaim,

The Captains joy, though vanquish'd, at his fame.

So in Phlegraean fields when the gods were

Assembled, and great Mars assum'd his Spear,

Pallas her Snakes, his Bow Apollo took;

Yet Nature still wore an affrighted look,

Till Jove himself loud storms and thunders rais'd,

And from the clowds Aetnaean lightning blaz'd.

Whilst here the Captains by their Troops enclos'd

Consulted on those ways to peace oppos'd,

Protestlaus, who most active show'd

I'th War, and on whom fate was first bestow'd,

Thus unto Calchas said; Thestorides,

Sure thou forgettest Phoebus Oracles:

For when can thy inspired lips relate

Better then now the hid decrees of Fate?

Dost thou not see how all amaz'd admire

Aeacides, the object of desire?

The Calydonian Prince now all contemn,

Slight either-Ajax too, and me with them.

But since our valour now is scorned thus,

Both Mars and ruin'd Troy shall speak for us.

For him, the Princes all neglected are,

And he is honour'd as a god of war.

Speak quickly, (or else why should we allow

Those sacred wreaths on thy adorned Brow?)

[Page] Where larks the Youth? for now, as men report,

Hee's not in Chiron's Cave, nor Peleus Court.

Speak then: if ever, now let thy desires

Wish for Prophetick breast-inspiring fires.

Thou shalt secure from war and danger rest,

Those gentle Wreaths with Helmets ne're be press'd.

Be happy in th'esteem which all will ow

To thee, if thou to us Achilles show.

Calchas this while his eyes doth wildly throw,

And his pale looks the god's approach do show.

His cheeks straight glow with heat: nor can he find

Or friends, or tents; so wild he is and blind.

Now in the sky great troops of gods he spies,

Now from the Fowls he takes his Auguries,

Now asks the Fates below their hid designs,

And then consults the bright perfumed Shrines,

Snatches the tops of the ascending fires,

And with the holy fume himself inspires.

His hairs erected stood: in no one place

His neck kept fix'd, nor keep his feet one pace.

Tired at length and trembling, a voice broke

Through the opposing furie, and thus spoke.

Whither dost thou Chiron's lov'd charge now bear,

Thetis, with Woman's craft? Return him here.

Hee's due to us: though waves obey thy will,

Yet Phoebus too a god my breast doth fill.

Where dost thou hide the Trojan's fate? I see

The Cyclades and shores sought out by thee,

[Page] Where thou of thy unworthy theft art cas'd,

The guilty Land of Lycom [...]des pleas'd.

O crime! those shamefull flowing garments tear,

And be not subject to a Mother's fear.

Ah me! now from mine eyes, hee's ravish'd quite,

What guilty Virgin's that salutes my sight?

Then staggering, by his strength and rage forsook,

He sunk down by the Altar whilst he shook.

Then to Ulysses, Diomede thus said,

This businesse now seems to require our aid.

For I shall ne'r refuse to go with thee,

If the designe doth with thy thoughts agree.

Though he in Tethys hollow sounding caves

Were hid, or wrapp'd by Nereus in his waves,

Thou 'dst find him out. Let thy care be express'd

From that great spring of counsels in thy breast.

For, which of all our Prophets can deny

Thy judgment equall to their Prophesie?

Ulysses pleas'd, repli'd, What thou wouldst do,

Great Jove assist, and's blue-ey'd Daughter too.

We run a hazard, 't is an act of weight

To arm Achilles; and a shame as great.

If our designe be frustrated by fate:

Yet what the Grecians wish, I'le venture at,

And with me, the Peleian Prince I'le bring,

Else Calchas tongue did uninspired sing.

The Grecians shout: and Agam [...]mnon too,

Excites them unto that they meant to do.

[Page] The Councell then dissolv'd, the Grecians rise,

And with a gentle murmur shew their joyes:

So at the night's approach, calm Hybla sees

Return, with buzzing noise, her Laden bees.

Now Ithacus a prosperous gale implores

To fill his sails, the youths too ply their Oars.

Farre off Achilles his disguise conceal'd,

Who to Deidamia now must be reveal'd.

She, though the crime were hid, did fear expresse,

And thought her Sisters at the thing might guesse.

For as Achilles stood among the bright

Fair charming troup, (his blushes put to flight)

He chose his lov'd companion, (though the fair

Enamour'd troup for him had equall care)

And practic'd the unknown designes of love,

Which in her breast could no suspition move.

With haste, he follows her from place to place:

His eyes no businesse find but in her face,

Repeating looks; he useth to abide

A close companion by her lovely side:

Sometimes about her, flowry wreaths he strows,

And sometimes at her, harmlesse javelins throw.

Now chants he Layes, that Chiron taught, and brings

Her courted fingers to the warbling string;

Straight his obliged lips to hers are fix'd,

And praises with a thousand kisses mix'd.

She gladly learns how Pelions top was rais'd,

And who Achilles was, and hears amaz'd

[Page] His name, with his atchievements of great things,

Whilst he himself, himself there present sings.

She teaches then his gentler arms to pull,

In long extended threds, the following wool.

Setling the shaken distaffe in its place,

And his full voice admires and strong embrace:

Observes his looks on none but her were fix'd,

And all his words with long-fetcht sighs were mix'd.

Now going to reveal his flame, she flies

With Virgin-fears, and his design denies.

So Heavn's great Ruler in his tender years,

Kiss'd his affected Sister without fears:

But Nature's laws being observ'd no more,

She fears that love, she blush'd not at before.

At length, his Mother's craft he did disclose,

A grove there was, whose top to Heav'n arose.

Sacred to Bacchus, in whose shades by nights

The women paid their Trieterick rites.

Whole herds they slaughtered, spears from Trees they rent,

And to the God their gratefull furies sent.

The Law forbad all Males: yet that command

Was giv'n anew. Besides, a Priest did stand

To watch the bounds, left they might be defil'd

By some rash man. At this Achilles smil'd.

Before the troup he with the Ensigne goes,

And in unpractiz'd ways his arms bestows.

[Page] Such as became the sex, and help'd the tales

His Mother told. Wonder on all prevails

To see Deidamia's self excell'd, as she

From her fair Sisters challeng'd victory.

But from his snowy neck, that so exceld,

When the Hart's skin was thrown with Ivy held,

His shining brows with purple ribbands bound,

And toss'd his spear with Vines and Ivy crown'd.

The troup then all amaz'd the sacrifice

And rites forsook; on him to feed their eyes.

So Bacchus look't, whil'st he had yet resign'd

To Theban luxuries his loosened mind,

Then leaves soft wreaths, his green spear head's with steel,

And now his nobler force the Indians feel.

Now Cynthia, in her Silver Chariot rode

On heaven's highest road, when the dull God

Of Sleep payes visits to the earth, and flings

Over the silent world his heavy wings;

The tired Company then weary grown,

Lay down to rest. Achilles all alone

Thus with himself begins, How long shall I

Endure a Mo [...]hers fearfull subtilty?

And in this soft esseminate Prison lose

My noblest thoughts? May not my right hand chose

One armed dart, nor more pursue wild game?

Doth not Sp [...]rchios still for me complain?

And prom [...]s [...]d hairs? Must I for nothing look,

That's brave, who such a Master so forsook?

[Page] Or to the shades do all believe me fled,

And Chiron mourns me without issue dead:

My darts and bow are now employ'd by thee,

Patroclus too, and horses train'd for me;

Whilst I brandish a spear with Ivy dress'd,

Or learn to spin, I blush while't is confess'd.

Why dost thou hide thy passionate designe,

And in dissimulation bury time?

Shall still these flaming words consume thy breast,

And leave thy sex and passion unexprest?

This said, and pleas'd with the conc [...]aling time

Of night, sleep too assisting his designe,

She now no more his feign'd embraces found,

Whilst he by force his burning wishes crown'd.

The Stars all smil'd, whilst they the wantons spi'd,

And Cynthia, her bright horns with blushes di'd.

The Woods and Hills rang with her noise; when all,

Rous'd from their sleep, thought it the signall call.

At which the ecchoing grove with clamours shakes,

Whilst he again, his wreathed Thyrsus takes:

But his afflicted mistresse first thus chear [...],

'T is I am he (why dost thou shew these fears?)

Born of the Oceans Queen, who did bestow

My breeding on me in Thessalian snow.

[Page] Nor had I e're endur'd this soft disguise,

Had not I first been charmed by thine eyes.

It was thy pow'r besides, that did command

A Timbrel and a Distaff in this hand.

Why dost thou weep, since to the Ocean's King,

Thou art a Child, that must Heav'n issues bring?

And ere thy Father shall disturb my joy,

Storms and unvanquish'd flames shall all destroy.

I am not turn'd a woman quite with this,

But yet awhile conceal this stealth of blisse?

At this, new fears amaz'd th' affrighted Queen,

Though still suspicious of him she had been.

Trembling when he came near, now she fear'd more,

When he confess'd what she believ'd before.

Should she her Father tell, (what should she do?)

And with her self ruine the lov'd Youth too?

For his dear sake, she rather chose to be

By silence made as deep in guilt as he.

By joynt consent, one confident they chose,

To whom they did their secret theft disclose,

Her womb now swells: and, all her heavy time,

She cunningly conceals her shame and crime.

Till Nature's just designed term did come,

And kind Lucina did unload her womb.

[Page]

ANNOTATIONS on the Third Book of STATIUS his ACHILLEIS.

STatius, in the beginning of his third Book, (according to the Paris-Edition, for that of Amsterdam maketh but two) representeth Greece preparing war against Troy, and declaring their affection to it. This was the first war we read the Greeks were engaged in, Thucyd. lib. 1. And therefore it is the lesse wonder that they loved war, seeing they understood it not. Since also we have monstrous examples of some, that have been weary of peace, giving it no better a name than Idlenesse, and making it the scandall of a Nation. When it is wanted, it will be esteemed. Such is the fatall folly of frail nature. Sylla told King Bocchus, that the gods advised him, when he chose any peace rather then war. And when some disliked the effects of the Treaty, Salust Bell. Jug. excellently saith, Scilicet ignari rerum humanarum, quae fluxae & mobiles saepiùs in adversa mutantur. Expectation of better is the great cousenage of this world, at least the attempts and profession of it.

10. Two Oceans.] Peloponnesus, now called Morea, hath the Ionian Sea on the right hand, and the Aegean on the left, being a Peninsula, in whose isthmus stood the City of Corinth.

11. Malea.] A Promontory in Laconia, between which and Taenarus is the Laconian Bay, Strab. lib. 8.

16. Temesa.] A City of the Brutians, famous for Brasse-mines; after called Tempsa, Plin. l. 3. c. 5. There is a Town of this name in Cyprus also famous for Brasse. One of these afforded matter for the stately Horse of Domitian, Statius Silv. lib. 1. in Equo. Domit.

Et quîs se totis Temese dedit hausta metallis.

Upon which large and stately Statue, shrines

The City Tem [...]sa's exhausted Mines.

17. Eubaea [...] shore.] Euboea assisted with ships, being an Island opposite to the Continent of Attica, Boeotia, and Locris, extending from Sunium as far as Thessalie, Strab. lib. 10.

[Page] 18. Mycena] A City so near Argos, that, as Strabo saith, their names were oftentimes promiseuously used for one another. It was once the head of Argia; distant from Argos but fifty furlongs, Str [...]b. lib. 8. & Pausan. in Corinth. It received its name (as Etepha [...]us saith) from the handle of a Sword, which the Greeks call [...]. The word signifleth properly a Musbrain. It is used also for the lower part of the handle of a Sword, which is like a Mushrum. Mycena had its name from hence, because Perseus letting the handle of his Sword fall there, was commanded by Mercury there to build that City.

19. Pisa.] A City near the River Alpheus, where the Olympick Games were celebrated, seated in Elis, a Region, which with Messena takes up the West-part of Peloponnesus. Here Salmoneus once reigned, whose ambition and punishment is thus described, Aen. 6. 585.

Ʋidi & crudeles dantem Salmonea poenas,

Dum flammas Jovis & sonitus imitatur. Olympi.

Quatuor hic invectus equis, & lompada quassans,

Per Graiûin populos mediaeque per Elidis urbem

Ibat ovans, Divûinque sibi poseebat honorem:

Demens, qui nimbos & non-imitabile fulmen

Ae [...]e & comipedum cursu fimulârat equorum.

At Pater omnipotens densa. inter nubila telum

Conto [...]fit (non ille faces nec fumea tedis

Lumina) praecipitemque immani turbine adegit.

I also saw Salmoneus cruell fate

In tortures held, who strove to imitate

Jove's lightning, and the noise that heaven makes.

By four Steeds drawn, a sputtring Torch he shakes,

And through fair Elis crowded streets he drives,

Ambitious of the gods prerogatives;

Mad man to think, that Flame which thought exceeds,

To imitate with Brasse and trampling Steeds.

But through the cracking clowds enraged Jove

A fatall rushing Dart whirl'd from above,

(Not Brands, nor smoaky Torches) and him cast

Headlong by that unimitable blast.

20 Nemea.] A Wood of Achaie, where Hercules slew a Lion. Servius saith, Nemca est vicina sylva Thebis, in qu [...] Hercules interemit [Page] Leonem. But this is a great error in the learned Servius. For Nemea is a Forrest between Cleona and Phlius, Strab. lib. 8. & Thucyd. l. 5. which Towns are far distant from Thebes, which is in Boeotia.

21. Cyrrha.] A City of Phocis, in the Corinthian Bay, Strab. lib. 9. Pausanias in Phocicis, makes it all one with Crissa; Plinie, not. Here Apollo was worshipped: And therefore the people haply said to have delighted in Arrows.

22. Lerna gives hides.] Near Argos is a Lake of this name, where Hercules slew the Hydra, notwithstanding that in the room of one head lopped off, three new ones still sprouted forth. Servius believeth, that in this place there was a swift River, which overflowed the neighbouring Towns, and being stopped in one place, broke forth in many others with greater impetuousnesse: Which mischief Hercules remedied, by damming up the whole Lake. There is a Town also, as Britannicus saith, of this name.

23, 24. Acarnan—with th' Aetolian.] Aetolia bordereth on Phocis, Acarnania on Aetolia, betwixt which runneth the river Achelous. The Bay of Ambracia parteth Acarnania from Epirus, Strab. l. 9.

¶ Argos.] Here Juno had a Temple, whence she was called Juno Argiva. It is commonly placed in Maps a great way from the Sea; but Pausanias in Corinthiacis saith, It is but forty furlongs off; which Thucydides also confirmeth, lib. 5. where he saith, that the Argives fearing the Lacedaemonians, and renewing League with the Athenians, raised large Walls from their City down to the Sea-shore, to the end, that if they were shut up by Land, they might, by the Athenian's help, receive in fitting provisions by Sea.

25. Arcadia.] A Region in the midst of Peloponnesus, Strab. lib. 8. remote every way from the Sea; famous for pasture, and much more, in having been the subject of so many excellent Pens. For which cause it needeth no more of mine.

26. Epirus.] A Country bordering on Greece, on the East divided from Achaia by Achelous, on the West by the Acroceraunian Mountains, which lie upon the Adriatick shore; on the North it is bounded by Macedonia: Its South-side is washed by the Ionian Sea. It was first named Molossia; afterwards Chaonia, from Chaon brother of Helenus; now, Albania. Once it was full of Cities and Inhabitants; but after it was vanquished by the Romans, it long retained the marks of a conquered Nation. Among other things it was famous for swift Horses, Servius in Virg. Georg. 3. That incomparable Poet (Georg. 1.) also ascribeth the same to it, ‘—Eleadum palmas Epiros equarum.’

[Page]

Ep [...]rus Breed by swiftnesse gains

The Garland in th' Olympick Games.

Servius in loc. out of Plinie, giveth this reason of their swiftnesse, that they stale in their courses; which is not onely ridiculous, but impossible. Georg. 3. 273. The Poet relateth the fond opinion of Mares generating with the wind, which Servi [...]s also out of Varro conirmeth. In these latter days, Epirus gained its greatest fame, by being the place for which the generous Scanderbeg performed so many glorious actions.

27. Aonian shades, and Phocis.] Both Regions of Boeotia. The Phocians inhabit the East-side of Para [...]ssus the Muse's Hill, Sirah. 1. 9. Aonia also had a Fountain dedicated to the Muses: Whence Juvenal Sat. 7.

—aptusque bibendis

Fontibus Aonidum.

28. Pyles & Messan [...].] Pylus is a City of Messenia, on the Promentory Coryphastum. Thucydides, lib 4. relating the advice of Demosthenes to fortifie Pylus, taketh occasion to shew its distance from Sparta to be four hundred furlongs, and that it standeth in the Territory, called by the Lacedaemonians Coryphastum, that once belonged to the Messenians. This was Nestor's Country. There is also in Elis a City of this name; Strabo speaketh of them both, and also of a third in Arcadia, Messene, here called Messana, is a City and Region on the West-part of Peloponnesus, consining on Arcadia, Elis, and [...]aconia. But Messana is a Town in Sicilie, near Pelorus. Strabo lib. 8. saith, it was called Zancle: Which name, Ibucydides, lib. 6. saith, the Sicilians gave it, because it was like a Sickle, which they called [...]. After, it received the name of Messana, from Anaxilas the Tyrant of Rhegium, being the name of the Country whence he was antiently deseended; but others say from the Messenians, a people in Achaia.

34. Täygetus] A Mountain of Laconia, beginning at the Sea, and reaching up towards Arcadia as far as Lacedaemon, Sirah. lib. 8. It was sacred to Bacchus, as Servius saith on these words, Georg. 2. ‘—et virginibus Bacchata Lacaenis Täygeta.’

—And on Täygetus top, where all

Laconian Virgins pay their Bacchanalls.

[Page] Cicero de divinat. lib. 1. saith, The Lacedaemonians being warned by Anaximander to leave their houses, they were suddenly thrown down by an Earth-quake, with part of the mountain Täygetus.

45. Stakes] The Antients made use of stakes in war, sharpned at one end, and hardned in the fire, Virg. Aen. 11.

Stipitibus ferrum sudibusque imitantur obustis.

57. Aulis] An Haven (or an Island, as Servius saith, in Aen. 4.) of Baeotia, where the Greeks made their great rendezvous, and took an Oath to destroy Troy, or never to return, Senec. Agam. 170.

Cruore ventos emimus, & bellum nece

& v. 172.

Non est soluta prospero classis Deo.

Ejecit Aulis impias portu rates.

War and th' obliged Winds by blood were brib'd.

Not a propitious Power was their guide,

When from the Port of Aulis first they fled,

And their swell'd sails the impious Navy spread.

This blood was Iphigenia's, who was sacrificed to Diana, because Agamemnon her father had killed a Hart which the goddesse loved. Much contention there is concerning her transformation; Most agree she was turn'd into a Hinde. Ludovicus Coppellus in his Diatriba de vot [...] Jephtae, compareth the condition of Agamemnon and Jephtha together, and maketh them contemporary, and fetcheth the name Iphigenia from Jephtha, quasi Iephthigenia; and conceiveth the fable of her transmutation arose from the story of Iepthah's daughter wandring on the Mountains. Of this sacrifice speaketh Nazianzen, Orat. 20. And Eusebius, de praeparat, Evang. hath much of human sacrifices; which are said to have been performed by divers Authors. The Fable of Agamemnon's daughter is set down by Hyginus, lib. 1. cap. 98. Ovid, Metamorph. lib. 13. Euripides, in Iphigenia, Seneca in Agam. Dictys Cretensis, and many others.

79. Antilochus] the son of Nestor, famous for his actions against Troy. Statius here giveth him this character,

—nec cogitet annos

Antilochus.

[Page] This, Britannicus interpreteth of his youth, and his doing actions, that such years as his were not wont to produce. But had he remembred, that his Father had been at the hanting of the Bore with Meleager, Ovid. Metamorph. lib. 8. fab 4. and had already lived two ages, when he came against Troy, Homer, Il. a 250. he might with more reason, have believed Juvenal, concerning the age of Antilochus▪ Stat. 10. 250.

—Oro, parumper

Attendas, quantum de legibus ipse queratur

Fatorum, & nimio de stamine, cum vidci acris

Antilochi barbam arden [...]em, cum quaerit ab omni,

Quisquis adest socius, cur haec in tempora duret,

Quod facinus dignu [...] tam long [...] admiserit aevo.

Hearken a little, how old Nestor cries

Against the Fates, and too kind destinies;

The beard of brave Antilochus, while he

Upon the funerall pile doth flaming see.

Of every one, demanding what strange crime

Prolong'd his age to such a wretched time:

85, 86. He must be Hectors fate, And ruine of great Priam] The death of Hector, I have above set down. The ruine of Priam is justly attributed to Achilles, in that he begat Pyrrhus, who killed him before the Altar, Virg. Aen. 2 554.

Haec finis Priami fatorum; hic exitus illum

Sorte tulit, Trojam incensam & prolapsa videntem

Pergama, tot quondam populis terri [...]que superbum

Regnatorem Asiae, jacet ingens littore truncus,

Av [...]ls [...]mque humeris caput, & sine nomine corpus.

This was of once great Priam the hard fate,

Troy seen on fire, and his ruin'd state;

He who o're part of Asia late did reign,

Now headlesse lies, a corps without a name.

We read of few examples, of so great alteration of fortune, unlesse this later age hath produced them; Who now perhaps, take such a prospect of their scorned bodies, as Lucan, lib. 9. v. 10. giveth pompey of his from Heaven,

[Page]

—Illic post quam se lumine vero.

Implevit, stellasque vagas miratur, & astra

Fix [...] polis, vidit quanta sub nocte jacere [...]

Nostra dies, risitque sui ludibria trunci.

There with true light inspir'd, the wandring fires

And fixed stars for ever he admires.

The day sees wrap'd in night, which us beguiles,

And at his scorn'd and headlesse carcase smiles.

95. Phlegraean fields] Phlegra is a valley in Thessaly, where the mountains Pelion and Ossa stand, on which the Poets feigned the Giants ass [...]lted heaven. There is another Phlegra in Campan [...]a, near Cume, which some make the stage of that bold attempt, Strab▪ lib. 5. Some reduce it to a truth, as ridiculous as the fable; How that a proud Nation, of monstrous dispositions, rather then statures, warred against Hercules, and were here overthrown by help of lightning, which arose by agitation of winds, the ear [...]h being sulfurous, and so [...]ubject to burning: From whence it had the name Phlegra, [...] signifying to burn. Cicero, in his Ca [...]o major, saith the War of the Giants [...]ith the gods, was nothing but Men' rebelling against Nature. And Macrobius, Saturn, lib. 1. c. 20. describeth them to have been an impio [...]s race of men, who, denying the gods, were therefore said to attempt the dethroning of them, And their lower parts, feigned to be like the winding voluminous tails of Dragons; signified their indirect and crooked affections. Vadianus, in his learned Notes on Mela, understandeth this Gig [...]ntomachia, of the enclosure of air in the earth, which forceth its way forth, as it were with defiance to Heaven, which is Jupiter; And this glanceth at th [...] Mythology, that Macrobius giveth. Ovid, Fastor. 5. thus expresseth the Fable.

Terra feros partus immania monstra gigantes

Edidit, auturos in Jovis ire domum.

Mille manus illis dedit, & pro cruribu [...] augues;

Atque ait, In magnos arma movete Deos▪

Exstruere hi montes ad sidera su [...]m [...] paraban,

Et magnum bello sollicitare Jovem.

Fulmina de coe [...]i jaculatus Jupiter arce,

Vertit in autores pondera vasta suos.

[Page]

The Earth brought forth Giants to vastnesse grown,

That durst attempt to storm Jove's starry Throne.

A thousand hands she gave them, crooked thighs

Like snakes, and bids them war with Deities.

They hills on mountains pil'd to reach the stars,

Attempting Jove himself with impious wars.

From whose revenging hand, the lightning blaz'd,

Turning those mountains on them which they rais'd.

This, learned Bochartus accurately applieth to the builders of the Tower of Babel, Geograph. Sacr. lib. 1. c. 13.

175. Hybla.] A City in Sicily, abounding with flowers and bees. Senec [...], O [...]dip. 601.

Nec vere stores Hybla tot medio creat.

Nor doth the fragrant Hybla bring

So many flowers in the spring.

213. Heaven's great Ruler.] Jupiter was bred with his sister Juno in Creet. See on Book II, verse 208. He was said to marry her by reason of the propinquity of the Fire and the Air; Hence also it was, that he could not match with Thetis, that is, the Sea. He is called [...] in Greek, [...], from being the gi [...]er of Life. Aulus Gellius, lib. 5. c. 12. Jovem Latin [...] veteres à ju [...]hdo appellavere; eundémque alio vocabulo juncto Patrem dixerunt: Which by the cutting off, and altering some Letters, is Jovispater▪ as Marspater, or Marspiter. This, unimitable Selden condemneth, Syniagm. 2. de Ba [...]l and Belo.

219, 220, 221, A grove there was—Sacred to Bacchus, in whose shades by nights, The women pay'd their Trieterick rit [...]s.] I shall venture to be judged impertinent, rather then neglect th [...]se two subjects, consecrated Groves, and the Rites of Bacchus; Of these, with as much brevity as is possible. A Grove is called in Latin, I ucus, quòd non luceat; non, quód sint ibi lumina causa religionis, ut quidam volunt, as Servius, in Aen. 1, And in Georg. 3. he affi [...]meth, that all Groves were consecrated to Diana; Perhaps, it was generally believed so, by reason that she was reputed the Goddesse of the Woods. For Servius certainly, could not forget that verse, Aen. 7.

—Et viridi gaudens Feronia lucs.

[Page] On which both himselfe and Sabinus relate, that the grove of this Goddesse, Feronia, being burnt down, and the people going to carry away her Statues, immediately it sprung up again, fresh and green. Suetonius in Augusto, speaketh of a grove, sacred to Liber or Bacchus, where Octavius consulted concerning his son; These Groves were used for Temples by the Germans, Alexand. ab Alex. lib. 4. c. 17. And Tacitus, de morib. Germanor, cap. 9. saith, Lucos ac nemora consecrant, Deorúmque nominibus appellant secretion illud quod solâ reverentiâ vident: A description of these groves, fee in Seneca, Oedip. act. 3. and in our Poet, Thebaid 4. I have in some of these Notes, given short intimations, that there was nothing in the worship of Daemons, which was not an imitation of the worship of the true God: Larger proofs whereof, time perhaps may favour my intentions to produce. Among other things, Groves will appear to have had s [...]ch an originall; Learned Mr. Mede, on Josh. 24. 26. sheweth that the Jewes had their praying places, besides their Synagogues, out of a notable place of Epiphanius, a Jew bred and born in Palae [...]ine. Which, he saith, were open places, and calleth them Proseuchas. Of which Juvenal, Sat. 3. 296.

—In qua te quaero proseucha?

On which words, the Scholiast and Lubine say, Proseucha signifieth a place, where Beggars use to inhabit. For [...] is Orare, to beg or pray. Yet the Scholiast immediately addeth, Est Proseucha, locus Judaeorum, ubi orant; Mr. Mede also citeth a place of Philo Judaeus, in his de legat. ad Caium, where he commendeth the exceeding clemency of Augu [...]ius Caesar, in allowing the Jewes their Proseucha's. But he denieth not but that, under that name, Philo comprehendeth Synagogues also; Politian Miscell. cap. 30. faith, the word is used, pro Templo & Synagoga Judaeorum. Some held the Jewes had no Synagogues before the Captivity: and their reason, perhaps, is the silence of the Scripture, which mentioneth them not, till the Jewes were returned from Babylon: This Mr. Mede taketh notice of, and letteth it passe for currant; But as for Proseucha, or consecrated Groves, he proveth them to be near as antient as Joshuah: shewing the Oak of Shechem, to have been such an one, and not a single Tree, as the common interpretation rendieth it. That Trees were in these Proseucha's, may be gathered from another place of Philo, cited by the same worthy Author, where relating the outr [...]ge of the Gentiles, at Alexandria, against the Jewes, there dwelling in the time of Caius, he faith, Of some of the Proseucha's, they cut down the Trees, others, they demolished [Page] to the very foundations. This also is implied by that of Juvenal, Sat. 6. 542.

Arcanam Iud [...] tremens mendicat a [...] aurem,

Interpres legum Solymarum, & magna sacerdos

A [...]boris.

And Sat. 3. 12. he complaineth, that the Jews had leave to live in the wood, which had been sacred to the Mases. Whence this joyning of Trees and Jews together, but from their having their Pros [...]ucha's ordinarily set with them? I could set down many Texts of Scripture, which directly distinguisheth between these Groves and Temples, as Psal. 74. 7. though not rendred so in the Vulgar. Translation. So Gen. 13. 4. it is said, that Abraham went unto the place of the altar which he had made at first, and there called on the name of the Lord. Which is explained by Gen. 21. 33. a place expresse to our purpose, And Abraham planted a grove in B [...]ersheba, and called there on the name of the Lord, the everlasting God. Luk. 6. 12. we meet with one of these praying-places. There it is said of Jesus; [...], He went out into a mountain to pray, and continued there all night p [...]ying to God. So Beza rendieth the place, Abii [...] in montem ad precandum, & pernoctavit illic preca [...]s Deum, which certainly will not seem a just interpretation to any eyes: but it would be much more genuinely translated in proseucha Dei, than, taking [...] for a Genitive case of the Object, in precatione ad Deum. And in this sense, witho [...]t doubt, the word is to be understood, Act. 16. 16. [...], euntibus nobis ad prose [...]cham, or locum [...]rationis. Beza here also translateth it ad precationem. But v 13. it is said, that Paul and his company went on the Sabbath day out of the city Philippi by a river side, where prayer was wont to be made. If the word [...] be here taken for prayer, neverthelesse it importeth a place where it was used, and that by a river's side: And it could not be a Temple, because they went out of the city to it, and Temples always stood in Cities. Therefore [...] judge the word most properly to be taken for a place, that is, a Proseuchs, or grove. These Dae [...]ons taught the Gentiles, in imitation of the Jews, to use such places of devotion. H [...]rein abominable ceremonies were practise, as frequently appeareth in Scripture, and therefore were they forbidden. See Isa. 57. 5. Hos. 4. 13. Ezek 6. 13▪ Thus much of Groves. Now for Baechus and his rit [...]s, I [...]hall first set down the Fable, which hath more reflexion on the [Page] truth than is generally conceived. The Poets say, that Semele desiring to embrace Jupiter as Iuno was wont, and being burnt for her ambitious appetite; Iupiter caught his little imperfect Infant from within her, and having sewed it up within his own thigh, kept it there till the time was compleat that it should have lien in the womb Then issuing forth, he was bred up by Nymphs, and became the inventer of Wine. Of which, see Eusebius de praeparat. Evang. lib. 2. cap. 2. who there speaketh of another Bacchus the son Iupiter and Proserpine, much antienter than the son of Semele. But this is rather from others fancies, than from proofs either of his own or theirs. As little will it be necessary to take notice of the endeavours of Macrobius, to make Bacchus all one with Apollo, Sat. l. 1. c. 8. Which opinion is condemned by Easebius, de praepar. Evang. l. 3. c. 13. It will be onely in some small manner convenient, to take some sleight notice of some Physicall applications of the Fable. Bacchus, they say, was feigned to proceed from his father's thigh, because Vines prosper best in a warm soil. His lips were anointed with Hony by the daughter of Aristaeus; for the Antients held Wine a friend to Eloquence. He continueth still young; for Wine preserveth the heart from cares, which are a greater cause of wrinckles and gray hairs than age. Hence also was he called Liber. Other reasons of which name, see in Plutarch, Quaest. Roman qu. 25. Many other appellations of his see in Ovid Metam. l. 4. Aelian Ʋ [...]r. hist. l. 3. c. 41. Alex. ab Alex. l. 6. c. 4. Natal. Com. l. 5. c. 13. Pier. Hieroglyph. l. 27. Gyrald. Synt [...]gm 8. All which, having no relation to the truth, I forbear to meddle with. For declaring who Bacchus was, and what his rites and ceremonies were, I hold it req [...]isite to shew who Saturn the father of Iove was, by whom Bacchus was begotten; and herein I shall wholly follow learned Bochartus. Saturn he accurately proveth to be Noah. For, as the Scripture styleth a Souldier, a man of war, Josh. 5. 4. a murderer, a man of blood, 2 Sam. 16 7. &c so it sty [...]eth Noah onely, a man of the earth, that is, an Husbandman: Which title Saturn had, and was, as Noah, believed the first planter of Vineyards. Therefore to him they attribute the use of the Reap-hook, and picture him with one, Plutarch Quaest. Rom. 42. Macrob. Saturn l. 1. c. 7, & 10. And as if Noah, by his being a man of the earth, had indeed married the earth, Saturn was said to be t [...]e husband of Rhea, which seemeth to be derived of [...], to flow, and signified the earth, which is the sea [...] of moisture. For, according to antient Philosophers, all Rivers are generated, and have their courses under ground. This Virgil sheweth, Georg. 4. who saith, [Page] That when Aristaeus was admitted into his mother's kingdom,

Omnia sub magna labentia flumina terra

Spectabat diversa locis.

—There under ground he spi'd

How severall ways the wandring Rivers glide.

Macrobius Saturn l. 1. c. 10. deriveth Saturn's name à sa [...]u, to wit, from planting or sowing. Satur, that is, plenteous or abundant, is nearer to it; and Sator, that is, a Sower or Planter. From Noah's being drunk, Bochartus lib. 1. cap. 1. bringeth the use of the Saturnalia; and inserteth a pretty observation concerning his cursing of Cham, because he had seen his secret parts. The like the Heathens held proceeded from Saturn. For Minerva having stricken Tire [...]as blind for seeing her naked, thus excuseth her self to his mother, Callimach. Hymn.

—non per me, perdidit ille o culos:

Nec mihi luminibus pueros orbare volupt [...]s,

Ast à falcigero lex Sene l [...]t [...] jubet.

Ʋt poena graviore luat, te [...]eraria quisquis

Ausit in invitos lumina ferre deos.

'Twas not by me: nor do I take delight

Or pleasure to rob any of their sight.

The Law from Saturn came, That he should be

Punish'd, who e're th'unwilling gods should see.

For this, Actaeon suffered. And to this Law Propertius alludeth, lib. 3. [...]eg. 12. speaking of the Golden age, ‘Non fuerat nud [...] poena videre deas.’ The son of Noah or Saturn which was cursed, was Cham or Ham; who, by reason of his being the youngest, or rather because cursed by his father, inhabited the sandy and barren parts of Africk, where he was worshipped by the name of Jupiter Hammon, or Ham. Now Ham had a son or grandson called Nimrod, who was all one with Bacchus, as Bochartus, without any question, concludeth, lib. 1. cap. 2. For Bacchus is the same with BAR-CHUS, that is, the son of Chu [...] or C [...]sh, as Nimrod was, Gen. 10. 8. So Darmesek and Dammesek is all one with Damascut. One of Bacchus his antient names [Page] is [...], which signifieth a mighty Hunter, as Nimrod was, Gen. 10. 9. And this is the reason why some held Bacchus the same with Pluto, Pluto enim defunctorum [...]nimss venatur & captat. Bacchus was also called [...], from [...], an Hind's Calf, because himself and his frantick adorers were usually clad with Stags skins. This also hath relation to Nimrod's being termed an Hunter: And Bochartus sheweth Nimrod and Nebrod to be all one. Bacchus was said to be born of Jupiter's thigh: Now some will not have [...] to signifie a thigh, but to be the name of an Hill where he was born, by Nysa in India; so Mela, lib. 3. cap. 7. and Plinie, lib. 6. cap. 21. Others conceive, it signifieth the side of a mountain, as Iudg 19. 1. [...], in the thighs, or sides, of mount Ephr [...]im. And 2 King. 19. 23. [...], to the thighs, or sides, of Libanus. So perhaps Bacchus was said to be born out of his father's thigh, because he was born on the side of some mountain, not that of India. But I much rather believe this part of the Fable arose from mistake of the originall word [...], femur, that is, the thigh, or the leg, which the Scripture useth for a modest expression of the place of generation, as Mr. Mede teacheth on Gen. 49. 10. where he interpreteth also the words, [from between his feet] to signifie his posterity. Gen. 46. 26. it is said, All the souls that came with Jacob into Egypt, which came out of his loins, &c. And Exod. 1. 5. All the souls which came out of the loyns of Jacob. But in both places the Hebrew signifieth thigh, as the Marginall Notes in our Bibles show▪ And learned Bochartus saith, the Phoenician words, which properly signifie the thigh, signifie also the generating parts. Thus Bacchus his proceeding from the thigh of Jupiter, according to the Orientall expressions, (from whence this Fable came) implieth no more, than that Bacchus was the son of Jupiter. Now I shall briefly consider their Rites, which will appear the same with the worship of Heroes and Daemons. Jupiter the son of Saturn or Noah was the same that was named Baal or Belus, as Bochartus sheweth, Geogr. sacrae. pag. 189. Bell was the proper [...]h [...]ldaean word, Baal the Phoenician, as the most learned Selden saith, Syntagm. de Baal & Belo; both which names (as he sheweth) are promiscuously used by Fl. Josephus. The same illustrious Author proveth Baal to be Jupiter; and withall maketh it appear, that Baal was a generall name for all the gods of the Gentiles. And Belus might be taken for Heaven: and so perhaps the Altar which Manasseh raised to the host of heaven was erected to Baal or Bell. Eusebius de praepar. Evang l. 1. c. 10. saith, Beel-sames signifieth the Lord of Heaven, who by the Greeks [...] called [...], Jupiter. As the Altars of Baal which Josiah threw down [Page] Were in high places, so Delrius in Senecam. Hercul. Oct. citeth a place of Herodotus, to prove that sacrifices were performed on the Tops of high mountains. Omnis autem mons, saith he, Jovis mons dicitur, quoniam mos fuit antiquorum ut supreme Deorum in sublimi l [...]co sacrificarent. This he citeth out of Melanthes, that every mountain was called th [...] mountain of Jupiter, because it was the custom of the antients, to sacrifice to the most high God in an high place. Now as the Babylonian Bel, differed from the Phoenician Baal. or Bel, so Jupiter Hammon, from Jupiter Capitolinus, and others. St. Paul, 1 [...]or. 8. 5. saith, Sunt dii multi, & domini multi. Which Mr. Selden alloweth to be many Bels; or, as the Europaeans speak, many Joves. And thus the name of Belus; was conferred on many; But that-Baal or Jupiter who was the son of Noah or Saturn, was the first we read of, th [...]t was worshipped; though the worship of Ba [...]ls, was the worship of Heroes or Daemons; To which we now descend. And that it may appear most reasonable, to apply this worship to the most early persons, that we read of in the World; two things are to be thought on, 1. That the Devill no sooner fell from Heaven, but he began to act against God: as we see in his tempting of Eve, 2. That he found, all men would be apt to ado [...]e most, what they knew here, and from which they received most benefit; Whic [...] was the sol [...] reason, that Plato and other Heath [...]s give for the worshipping of Heroes. And in the time of Noah, there being none besides him and his sons to leave beneficiall directions for the succeeding age, it is likely, that they were the first, who, by the Devil's means, were worshipped as Heroes: To whose worship, the Daemons jo [...]ned their own. That their worships were the same, Cicero confirmeth, making Gods and Heroes all one▪ Divas, & cos qui coelestes sempe [...]habiti, colunto; & illos quos in coelum merita vocaverint, that is▪ Those Gods which have ever been in Heaven, are to be worshipped; and those also, whom their deserts have called th [...]ther. And again, By death they came to be Gods; Apuleius also, Est superius aliud augustiu [...]que Daemonum genus, &c. There is, saith he, a more high and excellent kind of Daemons, which never were imprisoned in bodies: And these Pl [...]to be [...]ieved, were the directers of the minds of men. And Plato in his C [...]atylus, giveth the same Title un o He [...]oes; affirming, that Hesiod and other Poets, say excellently well, that good men, when they die, attain great Honour and Dignity, becoming [...], wise ones. And in his de Republ. he would have all that die valiantly in the field, to be worshipped as Daemons, and all that [...] any thing profit [...]ble for their Country; Cicero, also in his [...] S [...]p. maketh him say, that all which died in the service[Page]of their Country, be rewarded with Divinity: On which, see Macrobius, lib. 1. c. 4. There are some, that believe Serapis, whose Idol had a Bushell on its head, was Joseph worshipped by the Aegyptians; Mr. Mede, in his Apostasie of the last times, citeth Ph [...]lo Byblius, who in his Preface, to Sanchuntathon, the antient Phaenician Historian, saith, The Phoenicians and Aegyptians, account those as the greatest Gods, who had found out any thing profitable for the Life of man, or deserved well of any Nation. See Eusebius, de praepar. Evang. l. 2. c. 6. about the middle; To these also, were Temples erected as well as to their Daemon-gods. Thu [...]ydides, lib. 2. saith, The Athenians, who after the Persian War, inhabited the Country, altering their resolutions, went to dwell in the City; but finding it not large enough to [...]eceive them, they filled also the Temples and Chappels of the Heroes. Clemens Alex. in his Protrept. and Strom. giveth many the like instances, which I forbear to adde; Onely shewing, that the Daemons joyned their own worship to that of Heroes, or deified men, as being the aptest course to draw men from the worship of the true God; Religion, in the infancy of the World, being most confirmed by visibilities: Which way God himself was pleased to allow, and the Devils imitated. The worship of these Heroes, or Baalim, we find to have been wholly Tragicall, as Plutarch, de defectu oracu [...]or. describeth it: ut collig [...]mus ex utrorumque sacrificiis, orgiis & ritibus sacrorum multa admixta funebria & lugubria cernentes. Now this▪ was an expression of sorrow for the deceased; which grew a part of the religion. Wherefore we read, Lev. 19. 28. Ye shall not make any cuttings in your flesh for the dead. So Lev. 21. 5. They shall not make baldnesse on their heads, nor make any cuttings in their flesh. This cutting off hair, we find often an expression of sorrow among the antient Poets; And its being forbidden by God, is a plain Demonstration, that it was part of the Idolatrous worship of Daemons or Heroes. Yet sometimes it was used onely, for an expression of sorrow, See Jer. 48. 37. To this effect, Saint Augustine de civ. dei. l. 6. c. 10. q [...]oteth a place of Seneca's, not exstant in his works [...] [...]ut praefixed by Lipsius in his Edition; who thus describeth this [...]latious and Tragicall employment, Ille viriles sibi partes amputat, ille lacertos secat. Se ipsi in temp [...]s contrucidant, vulneribus suis & sanguine supplicant. An exacter description, cannot be had of their cutting and lancing themselves, and making their wounds their supplications. This sad manner of worship, we may plainly see to be no other th [...] [...]at of Baal or Jove, as it is expressed, 1 Kings 18 28. And th [...] cried aloud, (that is, the Priests of Baal) and cut themselves after their manner[Page]with knives and lancers, till the blood gushed out upon them. Thus have we seen the worship of of Baal or Jove; that is, Cham or Ham the son of Noah; Whose ill mind, it is probable, was easily enticed by Spirits, to cause himself to be worshipped when dead. We shall find his son Bacchus to have had no other rites but those of his. I will not stand to dispute when Bacchus lived, whom Clemens Alex. lib 1. Strom. placeth after Moses. Neither will I set down the reasons of learned Vossius, who saith he was Moses. This would be too large a field to walk over, and at this time not greatly to my purpose. I will onely shew, that his worship was the same with that of Daemons or Heroes, as Baal's or Jove's was. First, it will not be amisse to take notice, that Bacchus had the title of Heros given him, Plutarch Quaest. Graec. 36. His name BACCHUS signifieth something fu [...]ious. So he is also called Maenoles, [...]b insania: of which, see Eusebius, Praep. Evang. l. 2 c 3. who expresseth it according to Clemens Alex. in Protreptico, where he applieth the word Evan, which when they kept their Bacchanalta, they used to houl out, being crowned with Serpents, to the first Serpent the Tempter, Et signum Bacchicorum orgiorum est Serpens initiatus mysteriis. And, by the way, this perhaps was the cause why in these rites they used to be crowned with Ivy: This, being always young and flourishing, is the hieroglyphick of the Serpent, who, by casting his skin, reneweth his youth. Bochartus sheweth, how Bacchus his name commeth à luctu, from the funera [...]l rites and howlings used in his worship. But such were not proper to Bacchus, but common to all Daemons or Heathen gods. Alexand. ab Alex. lib. 3. c. 12. Non animali victimâ, nec hostiâ, sed suo cruore sacrificant. And perhaps these sad ceremonies of wounding themselves, were by some over-devout Zelots extended to human sacrifices, which were offered to divers Heroes, and among them to Bacchus, as Clemens Alex. in Proireptico, reporteth from Dosidas and others. Eusebius Praep. Evang. l 4. c. 16. relateth the same out of Porphyrius, where he mentioneth others besides Bacchus, to whom human sacrifices were offered. The [...] of his Priests we often met with, leaping and dancing on the [...] [...]horus's. So Baal's Priests are described, 1 King. 18. 26. And [...]y leapt upon the altar which was made. The Margin [...]ll Note, according to the Hebrew, is, They leapt up and down a (or about) the altar. The cries and wailings in the Bacchanalia were [...]o other, than the howls which accompanied these ceremon [...] [...] Isa. 15. 2. Moab shall howl over Nebo and over Medeba: on all th [...] [...] shall be baldnesse, and every beard cut off. And that the rites [...] appear the same in all things, we may see the very cutting [Page] and lanching, that is, the effusion of blood, mentioned in Baal's Worship, to be also performed in the Feasts of Bacchus; as Statius intimateth, describing the wandring Polynices, who leaveth

—Ogygiis ululata furoribus antra

Deserit, & pingues Baccheo sanguine colles.

Those caves which furious rites with howlings fill,

And with Bacchean blood th'enriched hill.

Upon which, Lactantius saith, Citheronem significat, ubi se Bacchae secant in honorem Liberi; that is, By the hill is meant Citheron, where the Bacchae, the Priests of Bacchus, cut themselves in honour of Liber, or Bacchus. Thus have I made it appear, that the worship of Bacchus was exactly the same with his father Jupiter's, and both no other than that of Heroes and Daemons. And herein was there an imitation of the worshippers of the true God, as may be gathered from Jer. 41. 5. There came certain men from Shechem, from Shiloh, and from Samaria, even fourscore men, having their beards shaven, and their clothes rent, and having cut themselves, with offerings and incense in their hand, to bring them to the house of the Lord. And because the Lord saw that this would be converted to Daemon-worship it was therefore perhaps forbidden in the above. quoted places of Leviticus, and Deut. 14. 1.

254. Dóth not Sperchios.] A river in Thessalie, to which Peleus promised his son Achilles his hairs, if he returned safe from the Trojan war. Maturantius saith, It was a custom to offer the hair of Youths to the gods of Rivers, because moisture is the cause of encrease. But I read of no such custom. I have rather given an understanding of this in the precedent Note, where I shewed, that the cutting off of hair was a sacred ceremony, performed to Heroes or Daemons. And no River antiently being thought to be without a Deity, Peleus vowed the hairs of Achilles to Sperchios, that is, he promised he should be worshipped by him with the performance of that Daemon-rite. And these words of Achilles, which Homer Il. ψ'. maketh Achilles speak over the body of his dear Patroclus, shew, that Peleus had built Temples to Sperchios.

[...],

[...],

[...],

[...]

[Page] [...]

[...].

[...],

[...].

[...]

[...].

In vain, Sperchios, Peleus vow'd to thee

At my return to Greece these Locks from me,

Besides a Hecatomb, should then be paid,

And on thine altars fifty Weathers laid,

Near to those fountains where thy Temple's rais'd,

And odors on thy fragrant altars blaz'd.

So Peleus vow'd. But he's unsatisfi [...]d.

And since my Country I am now deni'd

For ever, these hairs to the Stygian shade

In my Patroclus hand shall be convey'd.

This said, in his friends hand his hair he press'd,

Whilst every one affected grief express'd.

Alexander ab Alexandro lib. 5. cap. 25. saith, This Ceremony was performed by the Delian Youths and Maids, over the Hyperborean Virgins, the Men laying their hair on the Sepulchers, the Virgins upon the Tombs. And lib. 3. cap. 7. that it was used by the Barbarians, not onely in funerals, but in any great adversity; and that the Persians at funerals non tantum seipsos sed & equos & jumenta tondebant: But, that the Romans and the Greeks were wont for expressing their grief, to let their hair grow, and onely their women to shave theirs. Hence it appeareth, that the Antients thought it the greatest expression of grief to take away those Ornaments, which they preserved in conditions of better satisfaction That which he saith of the Greeks, is to be understood of the later Greeks, who, by letting their hair grow long, did expresse an alteration from content: And because that could be no expression in women, they still retained the old custom of [...]utting off their hair. In these later times, it hath been usuall to neglect our selves, when the World or Fortune have feemed unkind to us, letting our hair grow to rudenesse and undecency, quitting vanity upon no other cause but misfortune, nor ceasing to care for our selves, till Fortune appear carelesse of us.

30 [...] [...]cina] Juno and Lucina are taken for the same, Macrob. Saturn. l. 1. c. 15. And Alexander ab Alex. lib. 6. c. 4. giveth Juno [Page] the name of Lucina, and Opigena, quod parturientibus opem ferat. Therefore haply was she held the goddesse of Mar [...]iage. Vi [...]g. Aen. 4. 59.

Junoni ante omnes, cui vinc'la jugalia curae.

—and Juno most of all,

Propitious to the marriage-thrall.

And after, ver. 166.

—et pronuba Juno.

But the confusion of the names of the Heathen gods I will not here stand upon, having spoken something thereof els [...] where. The etymology of Lucina Ovid thus delivereth, Fastor. l. 2.

—dedit haec tibi nomina Lucus;

Aut quia principium tu, dea, lucis habes.

Parce, precor, gravidis, facilis Lucina, puellis,

Maturumque utero molliter aufer onus.

From sacred groves they thee Lucina call;

Or else because thou givest light to all.

Spare, kindest goddesse, every teeming Maid,

And gently too their fruitfull wombs unlade.

Mr. Selden Syntagm. de Astoreth, condemneth those who seek the etymology of [...], that is, Lucina, from the Greek; and he deriveth it from the Arabick word Alileth, which signifieth Night. The Hebrews also from Lailah, that is, Night, called this goddesse Lilith, which may be rendred Noctiluca, or Nocturnus daemon. To keep this Daemon away from women in travell, the Jews at this day are wont to write this charm on the walls of the chambers where they are, ADAM, CHAVAH, CHUTZ, LILITH; Be far hence, Lilith. Perhaps the Moon was adored by women in that condition, by reason that it maketh their labours easier when it is at the full. Ier. 7. 18. she is called the Queen of heaven: The women knead their dough to make cakes to the Queen of heaven. Some testimony of that custom remaineth in these days, cakes being still commonly made at such times, and the children themselves being called by the name of Cake-bread.

[Page]

[Page]

The Fourth BOOK.

§

The Argument.

The Grecians at the last Achilles find,

Who is betray'd to what the fates design'd.

Fair Deidamia mourns her Love with tears;

Whose theft had more of joy, though more of fears.

ULysses now through the Aegean seas

Chang'd, as he pass'd, the scattered Cyclades.

Olearos and Paros hid, they by

Lomnos next sail, and lessen as they flye

The Isle of Naxos: Samos bigger grew,

And Delos made the Ocean lesse in view.

Here they with offerings did the God implore,

For to confirm what Calchas told before.

Apollo heard. From Cynthus-top kind gales

Ended their doubts, and stretch'd their swelling sails.

[Page] Their ship in safety rode. For Jove forbid

Thetis to strive to hinder what Fate did;

Who griev'd she could not, being so confin'd,

On loath'd Ulysses throw waves swell'd with wind.

Now Phoebus near his journeye's end arrives,

And to the waves his sweating Horses drives,

When Scyros shew'd. Ulysses bids them all

Furl up their sails, (At his Command they fall)

And with united strength to reach the shores:

The sinking wind, the Youths supply with Oars.

Now all perceiv'd that Scyros they had found,

And saw the shore with Pallas Temple crown'd.

Leaving their Ship, the Heroes went on shore,

And there the kind Tritonia they adore:

When wise Ulysses, l [...]st the City might

At sight of all his Troup receive affright,

Commands them all within the ship to stay,

Whilst they alone attempt the rocky way.

But Abas, that kept watch, had told before

Of strangers, though all Grecians, on the shore.

Like Wolves the Heroes went, who although prone

To ease their young ones hunger, and their owne.

Yet on they slily creep, dissembling want,

Lest dogs should make their Masters vigilant;

[...]o slow, they took the nearest way that bent

Towards the gates, discoursing as they went.

[Page]

Tydides first began; How we should find

This truth, is alway running in my mind.

Why were these Thyrsi and these Timbrels bought?

Why Mitres, Drums, and gilded Stags-skins brought

Hither with us? Must these soft things employ,

And arm Achilles for the War of Troy?

To him Ulysses smiling said, To thee

Let this suffice: If that Achilles be

Under a V [...]rgin's habit here conceal'd,

By these fond Toyes, thou 'lt see the Youth reveal'd.

In these attempts let this alone be thine,

To bring the things when't is a fitting time.

And joyn to these the fairest painted shield,

On which the Gold doth radiant lustre yield.

This shall suffice. But let Agyrtes too

His Trumpet bring, to help what we must do.

Then seeing to the Gates the King was come,

Shewing an Olive branch, he thus begun.

I do believe that Fame hath fill'd your ears,

Best Prince, with Europe's and with Asia's fears,

Preparing war. If you our names would know,

On whom great Agamemnon did bestow

This trust, Hee's Diomed, who hath giv'n Fame

The bravest tales; Ulysses is my name.

To tell the cause I come I need not fear,

Since you're a Greek, in friendship tooso clear,

Tis that in safety we may still employ

Our ships this way against injurious Troy;

[Page] The King thus stops his speech, May ye still find

In all ye do the Gods and Fortune kind.

But now let me be honour'd by your stay

Within my Court. This said, he leads the way.

The Tables straight were spread, the Beds laid out,

In the mean time Ulysses sought about

If any Virgin, of too large a size,

Might give suspition to his doubting eyes,

Thus roam'd he round the house. So every way

Through fields the Huntsman his undoubted prey,

Trails with Molossian hounds, till in the shade

He finds the Beast, his head on cool Turfs laid.

By this the news was to the Virgins got,

How that a Ship had Grecian Princes brought.

They all expresse their sexes fears, besides

Aeacides, who scarce his new joy hides,

Greedy to see the Greeks. The room with guests

Was fill'd, who on rich Beds receiv'd their feasts.

The Princesses came, sent for by the King,

Like those fair Amazonians that did bring

Their Troph [...]ys with them by Maeotis, round

With Scythian and with Getan conquests crown'd,

(Whose ruin'd walls in their own ashes lie)

Now seated at their feasts, their Armes laid by.

[Page] Then straight Ulysses with his busie eyes

Observ'd them all. But night, that great disguise,

Deni'd the Heros should be quite reveal'd,

Whom lying on the bed the boord conceal'd;

Yet

To Diomed.

to his friend, he shew'd his wandering eye,

How unconfin'd by Laws of modesty.

For had not kind Deidamia's care compell'd

His temper, and his arms from moving held,

And with his veil, his mighty shoulders hid,

And naked breast, the full bowls too forbid.

And on his head, settled his tottering Crown,

Achilles then had to the Greeks been known.

Three courses now had satiated their souls,

When thus, inviting them to crowned bowls,

The King began, The glory of your deeds,

I do confesse, in my breast envy breeds.

I wish I were now with that Youth inflam'd,

Wherewith the Dolopes on these shores I tam'd:

As tokens of which victory, their torn

And shattered ships do still our walls adorn.

Had but kind Nature, made my children men,

To serve you now, my joyes had perfect been.

You see old age's witnesse on mine head,

And these soft pledges of my marriage-bed,

When shall the wish'd-for issues from these come?

Ulysses catching at these words begun.

Thy wish is just. For who would not have fled

To see such swarms, by troops of Princes led?

[Page] Th' united strength, that Europe now affords

All sworn to just revenge upon their swords.

Cities are empti'd, mountains naked show,

Sails without number on the Oceanthrow

A darkning shade: Fathers deliver arms

To the inflamed Youths, who rush in swarms.

Fame for attempting-spirits ne're did yield

So fair an object in so just a field;

Whilst thus he spake, he saw how the Youth's ears

Drank up his words, the rest expressing fears:

Then thus proceeds, Who'ere proud in the name

Of Ancestors, or in his Nation's fame,

Who manageth his Horse, or else can throw

His dart with fatall aim, or use his bow;

Here all their aemulating deeds are paid,

Virgins and fearfull women scarce are staid.

But that basewretch, who this brave action fears,

Hated by Heav'n, shall spend his fruitlesse years.

At this how the Youth mov'd, Deidamia's eyes▪

Soon found, and gave her sisters signes to rise,

Leading him forth. Yet he departed last,

And still his eyes upon Ulysses cast.

Who having paus'd a little, thus again

Assum'd his sp [...]ech, May you, best King, remain

In peace, providing marriage-beds for these,

Wh [...]se heav'nly beauties equall Deities.

How much their looks amaz [...], in which doth shine

Mingled with beauty something masculine!

[Page] The King replies, If now their looks invites,

What would it do at Bacchanalian rites,

Or circling Pallas shrines? This shall appear,

If the kind crossing winds detain you here;

At this new hope, their silent wishes bless'd,

With haste accepting it. The Court in rest

Was now laid free from cares; only the night

To wise Ulysses seem'd too slow of flight.

The morning scarce appear'd, when Diomed,

Bringing the gifts, with him Agyrtes led;

The Scyrian Virgins too rose with the day,

Unto their guests the promis'd rites to pay.

Before the rest, Achilles with the Queen

Appears. Pallas and Cynthia so were s [...]en,

With the Elysian King's lov'd Proferpine,

By Aetna's rocks among the Nymphs to shine.

Now they began to move in measur'd time,

And from th' Ismenian pipe they took the signe.

Four times the stroakes on Rhea's brasse rebound,

As many times the Evian Timbrels sound.

Four times their measures chang'd: at once they threw

Their spears all up, which fell together too.

Now they like the Curetes all advance,

Then they present the Samothracian dance:

Now all do side like Amazons, then all

Into Lacaenian circling figures fall.

Achilles now most plain appears, and stands

Neglecting the just time of joyning hands,

[Page] Scorns the soft measures, and to be so dress'd,

Forgets his part, disturbing all the rest.

Afflicted Thebes saw Pentheus thus despise

His mother's tymbrels and the sacrifice.

The praised Chorus from their sacred sport

Were now dismiss'd, and all return'd to th' Court:

Whither the gifts Tydides had convey'd,

And all before their eyes in order laid.

With these they seem their welcome to requite,

And every one unto her choice invite.

The King consents, too innocent to find

The Greeks, and what Ulysses had design'd.

They (by their nature to such choice apply'd)

The Thyrsus took, or else the Tymbrell tri'd,

Or Jewels chose. The shining Arms they view,

And thought them presents for their father too.

But fierce Aeacides, still kept his sight

Upon the Shield, as if prepar'd to fight.

His face with fiery blushes grew inflam'd;

Then to the warlike spear his eyes were chain'd.

His brows in furrows knit, his staring hairs

Grew stiffe, and he forgat his Mothers cares.

With his owne Love: Nothing durst then employ

His high-erected thoughts but War and Troy.

So from the teat, when a young Lion's brought,

And against nature an obedience taught,

Nor is an anger of his own express'd:

But if the shining steel threaten his breast,

[Page] His faith then flies; he makes his Lord his prey,

Scorning a fearfull Master to obey.

But when he nearer came, and in the bright-

Reflecting shield, saw the contemned sight

How he was cloth'd, then his fierce looks proclaim

In his inflamed blushes rage and shame.

Then slie Ulysses coming to him, said

With a low voice, Why are we thus delay'd?

We know where thou wert bred, how thou dost spring

Both from the Ocean's God and Heaven's King.

For thee the Grecians doubting-Army cal [...]s,

And at thy name Troy shakes her nodding walls.

Let Ida shrink, and please thy Fathers ears,

Who blusheth at thy crafty Mother's fears;

At this, his garments from his breast were cast,

Agyrtes straight gave the commanded blast.

Throwing their gifts away, the Virgins run

For shelter, and believ'd a War begun.

His robes untouch'd, fell down at the alarm,

Snatching the spear and shield upon his arm.

He taller far then Ithacus appears,

Or Diomedes. Swift dispersing fears,

Fill the affrighted Court, whilst in his gate

He seem'd now seeking to be Hector's fate.

The fair troup the Peleian Virgin seeks,

At whose discovery Deidamia shreeks.

Whose well known voice, no sooner fill'd his breast,

But Love began to plead his interest.

[Page] His shield sunk down, and on the King his eyes

Fixing, amaz'd at all these prodigies,

He still thus arm'd to Lycomedes said,

'Tis I, dear Father, (be not now afraid)

Whom the immortall Thetis bore. To you

This glory to oblige the Greeks is due,

In giving them Achilles. Thou shalt be

(If it be just to say) dearer to me

Then Peleus or lov'd Chiron. Yet attend

These words with kindnesse, and attention lend:

Peleus and Thetis adde a child to thee

By either side s [...]rung from a Deity.

They do require one of these Virgins here.

Dost thou agree? or else do I appear

Degenerate from them? Our hands then joyn

With free consent, and pardon those are thine,

With thy Deidamia's rape. Who can restrain

These limbs attempting to appease their flame?

If thou 'lt revenge, to me it [...]s onely due,

See how I wait it thus unarmed too.

Why do thy angry eyes so madly run?

Thou art a Father-in-law. Then throws his son

Before his feet, and then again proceeds,

By this a Grand-father. New rigour needs

More then such troups to punish. Th' Greeks with him

Joyn all their reasons to appease the King.

He with his daughter's injury though press'd,

And with the words of Thetis still possess'd,

And loth to break his trust, yet fears to stay

The Grecian War, and Fate's designs delay.

[Page] His Mother now, if there, in vain might use

Her power: Nor could he such a son refuse.

Thus he was vanquish'd; When yet full of fears

The fair Deidamia, blushing still, appears;

She could not think her Father yet was made

So kind, the crime upon Achilles laid.

The news of all to Thessaly he convaid,

And to his friends and subjects sends for aid.

The King for his new Son, two ships prepares,

And blames his power short for such affairs.

The day was spent in feasts; the Lovers ty'd

In Hymen's knot: The gentle night comply'd

Now to their bold embraces. He in dreams

Fancy's the war, Xanthus and Ida's streams.

The Grecian ships; whilst unto her a fright

The thought of waves did give, or morning's light.

About her Lovers neck her arms she spred,

And mingled with her tears these words she shed.

Shall I e're see thee more, and thus remain?

May we be worth thy visit once again?

Will not Troy's ruine, your swel'd mind forbid

To think where you were like a Virgin hid?

Ought I to beg, or onely to have fears?

Should I use words, that scarce have time for tears?

Is this our nuptiall bed's designed right,

To be bestow'd and ravish'd in one night?

Is this free Hymen? O thou kinder theft!

What we have leave to love, must thus be left.

[Page] Go, go: I dare not ask thee to remain,

Go then; Yet think not Thetis fear'd in vain.

Go, and return again to me, but mine

I wish too much. Those charming eyes of thine,

Will give such passion to Troy's beauteous Dames,

They they'l forget their Country's for thy flames.

Perhaps on Helena, thou'lt be inflam'd,

Whose beauty by her rape is so much fam'd;

Whilst I shall ne're be mention'd to be thine,

Or made the subject of thy youthfull crime.

But yet, why should not I still go with thee,

And bear thine ensigne? Thou hast born with me

The distaff, and the arms of Bacchus too;

Which Troy will hardly credit you did do.

Your Image though, the comfort of my breast,

Never forget; nor yet this one request.

Let not a barbarous Love enjoy my place,

And bring to Thetis an unworthy race;

This said, the shaken Youth comforts her fears,

Swears her his faith, and seals it with his tears:

And promiseth she should alone enjoy

The Captives, and the wealth of ruin'd Troy.

His fruitlesse words thus strove to ease her care,

And his vain promise lost it self in air.

[Page]

ANNOTATIONS on the IV Book of STATIUS his ACHILLEIS.

3. PAros.] One of the Cyclades, famous for clear Marble.

5. Nax [...]s.] Another of the Cyclades, sacred to Bacchus, who is said to have been here nourished. Here, they say, Ariadne was married to Bacchus, haply because being here forsaken by ungratefull Theseus, she here found a remedy, at least an end of her miseries. Bacchus, from his easing of cares, received the names of Liber and Lyaeus, and from his pitty, of Eleleus, from [...], Misericordia. But this I conceive rather commeth from [...], clamo, and hath relation to his rites.

Samos.] An [...] sland famous for the birth of Pythagoras. There be three Islands of this name: One but a little distant from the Continent of Asia, an [...]onick Island, having a City of the same name, Strab. lib. 14. Here Juno lived whilst a Virgin: whence the Island was called Parth [...]nia. Another, not far from the Bay of Ambracia. The third, in the Aegean sea, over against the mouth of the Thracian River Hebrus, Plin. lib. 4. This is here meant.

24. Kind Tritonia.] Pallas was ever kind to the Grecians, and the Trojans enemy. So Ovid, ‘Aequa Venus Teucris, Pallas iniqua fuit.’ And Virgil Aen. 1. saith, that among other Pictures that Aeneas saw at Carthage, one was of Trojan women going to the Temple, non-aequae Palladis, of unjust, or ungentle, Pallas. And Aen. 2.

Omnis spes Danaûm, & coepti fiducia belli,

Palladis auxiliis semper s [...]etit.

All the Greeks hopes and co [...]fidence which chose

Th'attempted war, from Pallas helps arose.

[Page] Her particular kindnesss to Diomedes Homer sheweth, Iliad 5. Servius in Aen. 2. saith, she was called Tritonia, [...], to fear; Pallas being commonly represented terrible with her Snakes. Or else she was called so, in relation to the three concerns of Wisdom, Memory of things past, Judgment in things present, and Providence for things to come. Or she had this name from a River, as Lucan there cited, ‘Etse dilectâ Tritonida dixit ab unda.’ She was called Trigemina by the Aegyptians, Alexand. ab Alex. l. 6. c. 4. the same perhaps with [...], and [...], from [...]. which in the Cretian Language signifieth a Head.

85 Maeotis.] A Lake of Scythia, receiving the River Tanais, with many others, and divided from the Euxine Sea by the Cimmerian Bosphorus.

86. With Scythian and with Getan conquests.] Scythia was divided into two parts, the European, and the Asiatick. The European from the banks of Tana's, by the shores of Maeotis, and the Euxine Sea, reacheth to the mouth of Ister. The Asiatick from the opposite shore extendeth to the East, and is bounded by the Ocean on the North, and by the mountain Taurus on the South. The Getae were a People of Scythia Europaea, called Dacians, as Britannicus affi [...]me [...]h, and Plinie l 4 c. 12. But Strabo lib. 7. placeth the Getans towards Pontus and the East, but the Dacians towards Germany. The G [...]tae were famous, or rather infamous, for cruelty. So Ovid, ‘Nulla Getis toto gens est truculentior orbe.’ One of their cruell customs was, to kill the wife, that by her death they might appease the ghost of the husband, Alex. ab Alex. lib. y. c. 26.

102. Inviting them to crowned bowls.] It was a custom observed by the Antients, especially at their Entertainments, to drink freely after their feasts, Virg. Aen. 1.

Postquam prima quies epulis, mens [...]que remotae,

Crater as magnos sta [...]uunt, & vina co [...]enant.

The first Feast ended, on the tables shine

The weighty bowls, crown'd still with sparkling wine.

[Page] At the beginning, small glasses went about, but at the end they enlarged their draughts, Alex. ab Alex. lib. 5. cap. 21. The Greeks had a Law, ut biberent, aut abirent. How Anacreon liked this custom of drinking, appeareth from this Ode of his concerning himself, H. Stephano interprete.

Ʋt me subit Lyaeus,

Tune cura dormit omnis,

Croesumque sperno prae me.

Dulcis repente nostro

Erumpit ore cantus:

Hederâ comasque cingens

Proculco mente cuncta.

Ad arma currat alter,

Ad pocula ipse curram.

Puer, ocyùs scyphum da:

Nam praestat ebrium me

Quàm mortuum jacere.

When powerfull Bacchus rules my breast,

Then I am from all cares releas'd:

Scorn'd Croessus too seems poor to me,

Whilst charming Lays take liberty

Through my melodious lips, and round

My brows with winding lvy crown'd,

Contemning all things in my mind.

Some are for war and arms design'd;

But the crown'd bowls do fill my head:

'Tis better to lie drunck than dead.

106. The Dolopes] A People on the borders of Thessalie, overcome, as it seemeth, by Lycomedes in a Sea-battle. See Servius in Aen. 2. vers. 7.

162. Ismenian pipe.] Ismenus is a River of Boeotia, not far from Aulis, where the Greeks made their great Rendez-vous. In this Country stood Thebes, where Bacchus was much worshipped: For which City, Statius here putteth the River Ismenus. A liberty frequently taken by the Poets. So Achaia and Pelasgia, being but Regions of Greece, are commonly put for Greece it self. There is also a Hill of this name by Thebes, whence Apollo was called Ismsnius. Plutarch in Pericle speaketh of a Trumpeter of this name, of whom Antisthenes, Si probus esset, tibicen non esset.

[Page] 163. Rhea's Brasse.] Rhea was held the mother of the gods; Who had divers other names set down by Alexander ab Alexandro lib. 6. c. 4. She was Saturn's wife, and taken for the Earth: The reason whereof see on Book III. vers. 220. Alexander ab Alex. lib. 3. c. 12. saith, A Sow, which was called Praecidanea, was offered to Ceres, or Rhea, because (as some conceive) a Sow, being a fruitfull creature, was thought a fit Present for the Earth, which was understood by Ceres. But I rather chuse the reason of Servius in Georg. 2. where he observeth, that the sacrifices to the gods were all performed, either by similitudes or contrarieties: By Similitude, as a black Beast to Pluto: By Contraries, as a Sow to Ceres, because an enemy to Fruits; a Goat to Bacchus, because an enemy to Vines. This Agellius l 4. c. 6. seems to confirm, where explaining the word Praecidanea, he addeth, Porca etiam Praecidanea appellata, quam piacul [...] gratiâ ante fruges novas captas immolari Cereri mos fuit; that is, A Sow was called Praecidanea, or a preceding sacrifice, by reason that it was a custom to offer one to Ceres before harvest. Rhea was commonly represented with Towers upon her head, and drawn by Lions. And hereby the Earth is signified. Which Macrobius Saturn. l. 1. c. 21. affirming, addeth also, Haec dea Leonibus vehitur, validis impetu atque fervore animalibus. Quae natura Coeli est, cujus ambit [...] Aer continetur, qui vehit terram; that is, This goddesse is drawn by Lions, creatures of great strength force and fervour: Which is the nature of the Heaven, in whose compass the Aire is contained, which carrieth the Earth. On which words Pontanus citeth these Verses of Lucretius;

Hanc veteres Graiûm docti cecinêre Poetae

Sublimem in curru bijuges agitare Leones,

Aeris in spatio magnam pendere docentes

Tellurem; neque posse in terra sistere terram.

The learn'd and antient Grecian Poets sung,

This goddesse was by Lions drawn along;

Teaching that round the resting Earth is laid

In Aire: for Earth by Earth could not be staid.

A Philosophy contrary to that which is now received. This goddesse's Priests were called Galli, from Gallus, a River of Phrygia; and Corybantes, which some derive from [...], which signifieth to tos [...]e the head in any violent motion: Which frantick action they used in their mad ceremonies. But Turnebus Advers. lib. 13. c. 24. understandeth [Page] the word otherwise. Their rites set down by Clemens Alexandrinus Protrept. and repeated by Eusebius, de Praepar. Evang. l. 2. c. 3. little differed from those of Bacchus, altered onely by the fancy and interest of severall people And all the worship that we read to have been performed to severall gods, was no other, than that which from the beginning of the world was taught by Daemons.

175. Afflicted Thebes saw Pentheus.] Pentheus was killed by his zelous mother Agave, and other frantick women, for contemning their Bacchanalia. Natalis Comes, lib. 5. cap. 13. thinketh Pentheus was some just and temperate Prince, who striving to suppresse those rude ceremonies, was murdered by his displeased subjects.

[Page]

[Page]

The Fifth BOOK.

§

The Argument.

For fatall Troy Aeacides now goes:

And as they sail, he from Ulysses knows

The wars originall; which having known,

Desir'd, he payes the story with his own.

NIght's shadowes now began to flye away,

When from the waves, the Ruler of the day

Began to spread the promises of light,

Yet injur'd by the strugling shades of night.

When now Aeacides, (his soft robes scorn'd)

Appears in his first courted arms adorn'd.

For now the winds invited. Now no more

Durst they remember how he liv'd before.

So chang'd, as if he were not now the same

That liv'd in Scyros, but from Pelion came.

Then, as they us'd, Ulysses did advise

To offer to the Ocean Deities.

[Page] To Neptune on the flames a bull was laid,

To Thetis an adorned heifer paid.

Achilles having then the entrails flung

Into the briny waves, he thus begun.

I have obey'd thee, Mother, though't was such

A hard command: I have obey'd too much.

Now with the Greeks, I go fam'd Troy to find,

This said, into a snip he leapt. The wind

Drove them from shore: the clouds still thicker grew,

And Scyros lessen'd to their hindred view.

The whilst Deidamia on a Tower appears,

Accompany'd with her sad Sisters tears,

Holding young Pyrrhus. Still the waves she view'd,

And that which bore him with fond eyes pursu'd.

He too his looks sends to th' affected walls

And widow'd house; then with a sigh recalls

What he had left: His fire burns again,

And his great thoughts give way unto his flame.

Ulysses guess'd his passion by his grief,

And sought by this diversion his relief;

Wert thou, (to whom the fate of Troy is due,

Whom Oracles and Grecians call for too

And war within the open threshold stay'd)

Dress'd by thy crafty Mother like a maid?

Could she herself to all be so unjust,

To act such theft, and yet expect a trust?

[Page] Her fears were much too great in all she did,

Should so much virtue in a shade be hid.

Which at the Trumpet's summons, freed thy breast

From thought of friends, and thy lov'd flames suppress'd?

Nor is this glory to our selves assign'd,

To bring thee now: It was above design'd.

Aeacides reply'd, Too long't would be

To tell my Mothers crimes. This sword for me,

And my disguise shall at a handsome rate,

Plead and excuse, though't were the guilt of Fate.

You rather, whilst sost Zephyrus conspires

With the smooth Ocean calm'd to our desires,

Relate, why Greece thus for revenge prepares,

That my resent may be as just as theirs.

Slie Ithacus repli'd, If that we may

Give credit to the tales of Fame, they say;

Once on th' Hectorean shore, three goodly fair

Dissenting Goddesses had equall care.

For their disputed beauties: And all three

Agree'd the Trojan Swain, their Judge should be.

Sowre Pallas pleas'd not his deciding eyes,

Nor the immortall Mistresse of the skies:

Onely fair Venus looks his mind inclin'd,

This strife arose when first the Gods design'd

Peleus for Thetis, and their happy seed,

Thy glorious self, was for our aid decreed.

The vanquish'd Goddesses hid passion fires:

The Judge his fatall recompense requires;

[Page] Straight sees in Sparta his admired Love;

Then fells the holy shades, and Cybele's grove

Falls on the earth, and the forbidden Pine,

Though sacred, must assist his foul designe.

His ships, now built, do through the Ocean passe

To the Achaian shore. His crime, alas!

The injury on potent Europe leaves,

Which first the stained marriage-bed receives

Of Menelaus, when he his ravish't joy,

Helen, with captive Argos bears to Troy.

The news through every City Rumour flung,

And to their arms the willing Grecians throng.

For who can bear at so unjust a rate,

Stains on a marriage-bed, with such deceit?

Plunder of grain, or cattell, cause affords

To men of valour, to employ their swords.

Agenor brook'd not such a rape, when Jove

Had through the waves born his affected Love;

But sought Europa, when the fact was done,

Scorning the God of Thunder for his son.

Aeetes so follow'd his child's escape,

Though Semi-gods were guilty of the rape;

Yet he pursu'd the ravishers with War,

And that fam'd ship, in Heaven now a Star.

Shall we endure these Phrygians, but half-men

Seeking upon our shores their plunders then?

Are we grown bankrupt and unarmed thus?

Or will the waves be lesser friends to us?

What now, if from the Scyrian shores should flie

Unto thine ears, thy lov'd Deidamia's cry,

[Page] Ravish'd by some, and calling on thy name?

With that unto his sword his fingers came,

And 's face with angry blushes grew enflam'd,

Ulysses then in silence pleas'd remain'd.

Then Diomede succeeding him begun,

Thou worthy Issue from a Godhead sprung,

Tell thy admiring friends, from thy first age,

What practice did thy youthfull thoughts engage;

The wayes to virtue taught by Chiron too,

And how thy limbs and mind enlarged grew.

Let this requite our seeking Scyros shores,

Through tedious waves, and plying of the Oars:

You need not be asham'd to tell your deeds.

At this he blushing, as compell'd, proceeds;

When Chiron first receiv'd me to his cave,

The food which to my tender years he gave,

I 've heard was much unus'd. For from the breast

My hunger with soft milk was ne're suppress'd,

But with firm flesh of Lions; and I suck'd

The marrow from wild Beasts yet-dying pluck'd.

This was my first chear: Chiron bred me so,

Till Time with larger stricles taught me to go.

He led me then to th' Woods, without amaze,

Teaching mine eyes upon wild beasts to gaze,

And not to fear the noise which billows made

On Rocks, nor th' horrid silence of a shade.

I now a quiver got, and with a spear

To arm my youthfull hand was all my care.

As unconcern'd, I suffer'd the extreams,

Of binding cold and Sol's reflecting beams.

[Page] My tired limbs, a soft bed never press'd:

I with my Master on astone took rest.

When now almost to twice six years I came,

He taught me to pursue the swiftest game.

And the fierce Lapithae; and when I threw

My darts, to overtake them. Sometimes too,

Chiron would follow me through fields and plains,

Till age deni'd; and tired with my pains,

Would lay me on his neck. He made me bold

To passe the frozen Rivers bound with cold.

These were my youthfull sports. Why should I need

To tell my warres, i' th' woods from roars now freed?

He taught me, not to hunt those beasts whose fear

Urg'd their swift flight, the Lynx, and fallow Deer;

But force the Bear to her affrighting roars,

The cruell Tigres, and the foming Boars.

Or from the mountains fetch the Lions young;

Whilst in his cave he look'd to see me come

Bloody; Nor took me in his arms before

He saw my spear colour'd with blushing gone.

And now my Age, and Chiron, did designe

My arms for nobler Wars. All discipline

Of Mars I us'd. I practic'd how to throw

The Macedonian pile: I learnt to know

The use, as Sauromatians do, of spears;

Or Getans, of their crooked semitars:

And how the fam'd Gelonians use the bow,

And how the Balearian slingers throw▪

With sounerring aims the circling slings,

Which wound as sure and oft as motion flings.

[Page] I scarce remember all. I learn'd the art

To leap vast dikes, whose banks were far apart;

And the high tops of airy hills to gain,

To get me breath and swiftnesse for the plain.

Then, the true image of a fight to yield,

He made me take huge milstones on my shield;

To enter burning hovells, and with force

And speed, to stay swift Horses in their course.

Once I remember, how dissolved snow,

And constant showres had swell'd Sperchios so,

That with its furious stream it drove a throng

Of torn-up Trees, and rowling stones-along:

Then where the waves, the horrid'st force express'd,

He bad me to oppose my youthfull breast,

And stop the swelling billows as they run;

Which he with all his feet could scarce have done.

Nor could th' impetuous stream a conquest gain,

Whilst Chiron threatned, urging still my shame.

Thus glory I attain'd by his command,

Who still a witnesse of my toils did stand.

To fight with arm'd fists, and th' Oebalian stone

To throw and wrestle with oil'd limbs, alone

Were sports, nor seem'd more toils then when

I took my harp, and sung of famous men.

He taught me too, which herbs for health were good,

And which would stop effusion of much blood.

Which would close wounds, and which procure kind rest,

How gangrain'd parts to sever from the rest.

[Page] What ulcers herbs would care. He also taught

Still to make Justice guide of every thought.

Thus the Thessalians he made happy still,

And thus he wrought his Centaurs to his will.

Y [...]ave heard, my friends, those acts that did employ

My early years: These I recount with joy.

The rest my Mother knows. Thus he gave o're

His tale, and came unto the Trojanshore.

[Page]

ANNOTATIONS on the 5th Book of STA [...]IƲS his ACHILLEIS.

13. A Bull.] This was the usuall sacrifice to Neptune. Yet Ovid, Metam. 4. when Andromeda was freed, saith, A Bull was offered to Jupiter. And Silius Italicus, lib. 15.

—cadit ardua Taur [...]s

Ʋictima, Neptuno pariter, pariterque Tonanti.

And Virgil, Aen. 3. ‘Caelicolûm Regi mactabim in littore Taurum.’

—upon the shore

To Heaven's King a Bull I slew—

On which place Servius saith, that Aeneas did this contrary to reason, in relation to the event, a Bull being the sacrifice of Neptune; resembling the roughnesse of the waves, and the nature of Neptune, and other Sea-gods, as ungentle as the waves that bred them: as Agellius l. 15. c. 2. Ferocissimos & immanes & alienos ab omni humanitate Neptuni filios dixerunt; that is, Neptune's sons were said to be most fierce and ungentle, and strangers to all humanity. See Macrobius, l. 3. c. 10.

15, 16. Having then the entralls flung Into the briny waves] This manner of throwing the entralls into the Sea, when sacrifice was performed to the Sea-gods, Virgil setteth down, Aen. 5.

Dii quibus imperium pelági, quorum [...]quora curro,

Vob is laetus ego hoe candentem in littore taurum

Constituam ante aras voti re [...]s, exteq [...]e salsos

Porriciam in fluctus.

[Page]

You gods whose empire in the Ocean lies,

Over whose waves I sail; this sacri [...]ce,

A [...] Bull as due to you I pay—

And in the briny waves the entralls lay.

For in a sacrifices the entralls were a thief part of the ledication; as Juvenal, Sat. 10.

Ut tamen & poscas [...]liquid, voveasqae s [...]c [...]llis

Ext [...], & candid [...] divi [...]a t [...]macul [...] p [...]rci.

That thou maist something wish, and at the shrine

Offer the sacred entralls of white Swine.

This ceremony of throwing the entralls into the Sea, was, because Neptune, to whom the sacrifice was offered, there reigned. Suetonius in Augusto hath these words, [...]uneiata repentè hostis incur [...]one, [...] [...]pta faco prosacuit; alque it a praelium ingressus, victor rediit; that is, Hearing of the incursion of the enemy, he cut off the entralls half-raw, snatched from the fire; and so going cut to Battle he returned victorious. On which words, Salmasius, Partem extorum prosecandam & Diis porriciendam arae super-impo [...]ebant & diis adolehant; They laid that part of the entralls on the Altar that was to be cut off, and sacrificed it to the gods. Reliquam partem vescebantur qui sacrificio intererant. The rest was eaten by such as were present at the sacrifice. All the actions about the entralls, looking into them and examining them laying, them on the Altar, eating what is to be eaten, Arrianus compriseth under this one Verb [...]. This custom, among others, which in the Notes I have given short hints of, was taken up by the Heathen in imitation of the true God's worship as will appear from Levit 1. 9, 13. The inwards and the legs shall he wash in water, and the Priest shall burn all on the Altar. Of the Priests eating part of the sacrifice, s [...]e Levit. 2. 3. 10 and 6 26. Ecclus 7. 31. Likewise the baked and broiled meats ave [...]e the Priests, Lev. 7 9. Here imita [...]ed by the word semicruda. And we read but of few [Page] ceremonies among the antient Gentiles, that had not such a beginning.

35. War within the open threshold stai'd.] The Poet meaneth the Temple of Janus, which in Peace was ever shut, and open in War. From Janus the gates of any private house were called Januae. The gates of Janus were shut but twice before the time of Augustus. Janum Quirinum semel atque iterum a condita Vrbe memorium ante suam clausum, in multò breviore temporis spatio, terrâ marique pace partâ, ter clusit, saith Suetonius, in Augusto, c. 22. That is, The Temple of Janus, from the beginning of the City, was but twice shut before the reign of Augustus; but in his reign, in a much lesser space, he being at peace with all the world, it was thrice shut. The first time it was shut was in the reign of Numa Pompilius; The second, when T. Manlius Torquatus, and Attilius Balbus were Consuls: but it was opened again (as many say) the same year, and so continued till Augustus. Perhaps Rome's not enjoying peace was not the least cause of its prosperity. For in troublous times, mens endeavours commonly are united for the publick safety, but pursue private interests in times of peace and idlenesse; so hard it is to make true advantage of God's greatest blessings. Augustus first shut Janus his Temple, Anno ab Ʋ. C. DXXV after the overthrow of Antonie; Himself the fifth time, and Sextus Apuleius being Consuls. Four years after he shut it the second time, M. Junius Silanus being Consul with him. The third time he shut it was about the time of our Saviour CHRIST, the Prince of peace. The next time we read of its being shut, was, when Nero, and Valerius Messala, were Consuls, Anno Ʋ. C. DCCCXI. which Tacitus and Orosius reckon not, because Nero shut it upon no just grounds. So Suetonius in his life, Janum geminum clausit tam nullo quam residuo bello; which [...]aernus readeth, Tanquam nullo residuo bello: that is, He shut the Temple of Janus, as if there were no signes of war remaining. The seventh time it was shut (or, more truly, the sixth time) was, Anno Ʋ. C. DCCCXXIV. Vespasian and Nerva being Consuls. After this time, Historians say nothing concerning the gates of this Temple. Yet Capitolinus in Gordino Juniore, affirmeth, that the custom still remained. Alexander ab Alexandro lib. 1. c. 14. conceiveth the reason, why Janus his [Page] Temple was the testimony of peace and war, was, his being the Pr [...]sident of the revolutions of times; so his Statue intimated, having on its hands the number of the days of the year figured. As he was figured with two faces, so he had also two gates, one toward the East, the other toward the West. These Macrobius, Saturn. l. 1. c. 9. useth for arguments, to prove Ianus the same with the Sun, according to his designe. But I rather judge this arose from Saturn, (by vvhom Time vvas meant) his being perhaps all one vvith Ianus. But Macrobius cap. 7. believeth, Ianus's tvvo faces related to the prudence and care of a Prince, who looketh both on what is past, and also on what is to come. Ianus made Saturn partner with him in the Kingdom, for the benefit he received from his instructions about Hu [...]bandry: And after his death, in honour of him, and in memory of the ship which brought him to Italy, he caused the figure of a ship to be stamped on one side of his Coine, which on the other had his own Image. Hence came the Game, cùm pueri denarios in sublimi jactantes, CAPITA AUT NAVIA, lusu teste vetustatis, exclaman [...]; which in our days still remaineth, being now called Crosse or Pile. Cap. 9 he telleth this originall story of the opening of Janus's gates in War; When the War of the Sabines was in favour of their rav [...]shed Virgins, the Romans hastned to shut the gate at the foot of the Hi [...] Viminalis, (which from the event was after called lanualis) by reason the enemy was rushing in that way. After it was shut, it straight opened again of its own accord. Which having hapned twice or thrice, they stood to defend it with Souldiers, because they could not shut it: wh [...]n suddainly there came a report, that on another side of the City the Romans were bea [...]er by Tatius: At which, the Romans that defended this gate, affrighted fled. And when the Sabines were breaking in, it is said, that from the Temple of fanus a violent torrent of hot water issued, and overthrew the pressing enemy For this cause in war the gates were always set open, as it were in expectation of such help, and as representing the god himself going out to their assistance. And this no doubt proved very advantag [...]ous, for the encouragement of the common people, who are apt enough to believe any, that tell them of a god's going out with them. To this purpose also, Servius rela [...]eth the story, in Aen. 1. and saith, the reason of Janus his being figured with two faces, was the confederacy of the [Page] two Princes, Romulus and Tatius. The best reason he giveth, as he thinketh himself, is, That those that go to war wish to return. But certainly he is unjust to himself, having before said, vel quòd ad bellum ituri debent de pace cogitare, that is, or because that those that are going to war ought to have their thoughts on peace.

55. Hectorean shore.] That is, Trojane.

58. The Trojan Swain.] Paris, so called, from his having been bred up among shepheards. See Annot. on Book 1 v. 33.

6 [...]. So rose the strife, &c.] For they fell out, when they were at the marriage of Peleus and Thetis, about a golden Apple cast among them by Discord.

73. Europe] is here put for Greece.

83. When love, &c.] love ravished Europa in the shape of a Bull. See Ovid Metam, lib. 2.

87. Aeetes.] The father of Medea, who pursued the Argonauts that carried her away in the Ship Argo, which was after made a Constellation.

150, The Macedonian Pile.] See on Book 2. v. 6.

151. Sauromatians,] a people of Scythia, commonly called Tartars.

152. Getans.] See on Book 4. v. 86.

153 Gelonians,] a people also of Scythia, so called from Gelonus the son of Hercules. They are now comprehended under the name of Tartars. They were wont to paint and discolour their faces, that they might appear the more terrible in Battle. Hence Virgil calleth them Pictos Gelonos, Geor. 2. They were famous Archers: Hence Horace, lib. 3. od. 4. calleth them pharetratos Gelonos: And Virgil Aen. 8. Sagittiferos Gelonos. They used, as the Massagetans, to drink Horses blood mingled with milk.

154. Balearian Slingers.] The Baleares are two Islands belonging to Spain, commonly called Majorica and Minorica. Some hold, they received their name from Baleus, a companion of Hercu [...]es, there left by him. But rather they were so called [...], from Slinging: For the inhabitants were very skilfull in the use of the sling, and bred their children to it. When their children were hungry, they laid their victualls on a high beam, and they were to strike it off with a sling before they had it, Flor. l. 3. c. 8. and Alex. ab Alex. lib. 2. c. 25. [Page] The Greeks formerly called them Gymnes [...]aus, from their custom of going naked.

177. To fight-with armed fists.] See on Book 1. v. 219.

Oebatian quoits.] This was a weight with a [...]ing in it, which they used to throw. At this Exercise Apollo killed his Beloved Hyacynthus. See Alexand. ab Alex. lib. 3. cap. 21.

178. And wrestle with oil'd limbs.] I have shewed above; why places of Exercises are called Gymnasia. Those that w [...]est [...]od were naked, and had their limbs anno [...]ted! Thucydides, lib. 1. saith, The Lacedae monians first instituted Wrestling naked, with oyled limbs: but he there affirmeth, that the more antient custom was to wear Breeches. This exercise was in sueh esteem, that one that was excellent in it was valued as much as the bravest Souldier, Alex. ab Alex. l. 2. c. 25. For which reputation's sake, they used assiduous-practise before they came to the place: And then, as Clemens Alexandrinus lib. 7. Strom. reluteth, looking on the Starue of Iupiter, they made this prayer to him, If all things, O Iupiter, are rightly. performed by me for the Combat, give [...]e the deserved Victory.

§

§

[Page]

A PANEGYRICK to Generall MONCK.

'TIs not your pow'r, that has inspir'd my muse,

T'were mean to praise that which you scorn to use.

'Tis that above the reach of pow'r in you

I praise, Victorious over Conquest too.

Yet you more truly glorious will appear,

To dispose Scepters, than you could to wear.

For ravish'r Crowns are still another's due,

But thus bestow'd, they are all ow'd to you.

How much your Debtour is our Nation grown,

People their freedome owe, the Prince his Throne.

Brought from his barbarous exile to be Crown'd,

And practice mercy that he never found.

So when the

Aeneas so described by Virg. lib. 1.

Trojan Prince was almost lost

In Storms, among ungentle billows tost,

Displeased Neptune from the surges rose;

And storms of frowns among the tempests throws.

[Page] At which the waves no longer durst aspire,

But to obedient calmnesse all retire.

At your approach, phanatique storms so shrink,

And factious waves to seeming quiet sink.

That

La [...] bert.

Wave which to the vastest swelling rose,

Found destiny in attempting to oppose.

Under your weight and principles they sunk,

And his unto your brighter Genius shrunk.

So common fires seem to be undone

At the victorious shining of the Sun.

He too that hated King's, just fate designes

Should stoop to one sprung from a Prince's loins.

Yet little does your birth share with your deeds,

Your Godlike acts, your Princely [...]ace exceeds.

Whilst you despise those long prevailing charms

Of pow'r, ready with its open arms.

So holy men, in heavenly firmnesse staid,

Refus'd those honor's others would have paid;

T'was such a Temper only could have brought,

That which we strongly hop't, and weakly sought.

Such conquests as to mighty minds are due,

Sought your embraces; whilst alone for you

So clearly victory it selfe declar'd,

That neither common sword, nor fortune shar'd.

Whilst we amaz'd your perfect conquest find,

Wrought only by your conduct and your mind.

Their pow'r and fates that you before you saw,

Did not excite your thoughts, nor could they awe:

[Page] You took no measure from their fates or them,

Whilst pow'r and danger you alike contemn;

For their ambitions were not your designes,

You did not fear their fates, but fear'd their crimes.

Yet by degrees you mov'd, as after Night

The Sun begins to shew the World its light.

At whose approach, darknesse its place resignes,

And though it seems to move not, yet it shines.

So softly you began to spread your beams,

Through all our factions dark in all extreams.

And though at first, you scarce a motion show'd,

Yet early glory from your actions flow'd.

May you still shine, as now at your full height,

Till you to greater glory passe through fate.

You that a KING a Scepter gave to sway,

And taught rebellious Subjects to obey;

FINIS.

Information about this book

Title statement

Poems, viz. 1. A panegyrick to the king. 2. Songs and sonnets. 3. The blind lady, a comedy. 4. The fourth book of Virgil, 5. Statius his Achilleis, with annotations. 6. A panegyrick to Generall Monck. / By the Honorable Sr Robert Howard.

Howard, Robert, Sir, 1626-1698.

Edition statement

1660

Publication

Publisher

Text Creation Partnership,

Place of publication

Ann Arbor, MI ; Oxford (UK) :

Date

2008-09 (EEBO-TCP Phase 1).

ID [DLPS]

A86610

ID [STC]

Wing H3003

ID [STC]

Thomason E1824_2

ID [STC]

ESTC R202055

ID [EEBO-CITATION]

99862475

ID [PROQUEST]

99862475

ID [VID]

114635

Availability

This keyboarded and encoded edition of the work described above is co-owned by the institutions providing financial support to the Early English Books Online Text Creation Partnership. This Phase I text is available for reuse, according to the terms of Creative Commons 0 1.0 Universal. The text can be copied, modified, distributed and performed, even for commercial purposes, all without asking permission.

Series

Early English books online.

Notes

(EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. A86610)

Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 114635)

Images scanned from microfilm: (Thomason Tracts ; 227:E1824[2])

Source

— Poems, viz. 1. A panegyrick to the king. 2. Songs and sonnets. 3. The blind lady, a comedy. 4. The fourth book of Virgil, 5. Statius his Achilleis, with annotations. 6. A panegyrick to Generall Monck. / By the Honorable Sr Robert Howard., Howard, Robert, Sir, 1626-1698., Virgil., Statius, P. Papinius (Publius Papinius), Dryden, John, 1631-1700..

Extent

[16], 27, [3], 29-208, 193-285, [1] p.

Printed for Henry Herringman, and are to be sold at his shop at the sign of the Anchor on the lower Walk of the New Exchange.,. London, :: 1660.. (Printed by William Wilson. Cf. Pforzheimer catalog.) (With a commendatory poem signed: John Driden.) ("The blind lady" has a separate divisional title page; pagination and register are continuous.) (Text is continuous despite pagination.) (Annotation on Thomason copy: "June".) (Reproduction of the original in the British Library.)

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