I know thou'lt aske 'why I no Front do weare
To take the distant eye? Not I, I sweare.
To give an invitation, and no meate,
Would not be thought a courtesie, but cheat.
Besides, (if mine owne feares aright divine)
Thou'lt find but too much Front in ev'ry line.
HIPPOLITUS Translated out of SENECA.
By EDMUND PRESTWICH.
Together with divers other Poems of the same Authors.
Verum pone moras, & studiam lucri, Nigrorum (que) memor, dum licet ignium, Misce stultitiam conciliis brevem.
LONDON, Printed by G. D. for George Boddington, at the Signe of the Crown in Chancerylane neere the Rolles. 1651.
TO THE NOBLE and MOST VERTUOUS LADY, Mrs. ANNE LEEDES.
Madam,
HEre you see, what diligence I have used to involve my self into a Lab'rinth, out of which, my judgement is not clew sufficient to conduct me. I blush when I remember, how I have betrayed mine own weaknesse to the publike view; and like Caecrops Daughter, tempted my MINERVA [Page] to mine owne ruine, for daring to discover an Infant with such deformed feet. I have reason to feare, 'that those knowing spirits, the right heires to all those sacred fountaines within the Diocesse of the Myter'd Hill; those profest Champions of Poesie, who are so jealous of the Muses Honour, will be strict in their examinations, severe in their censures, and where they find an intruder, whose follies are stript thus naked as are mine, liberally use that lash which was justly put into their hands. But when they shal know, I am not so wedded to self-love, but that (were I permitted to cast my bean into the Urne) I should bee as ready to [Page] condemne my self, as expect my sentence from another; Perhaps, so ingenious a confession might in noble minds quite pluck out the sting of Anger, and make their reprehensions rather arise from pitty, or a Fatherly affection, then Revenge: but then I tremble to thinke how I stand engaged amongst all that ignorant and censorious Rabble, who because Nature (foreseeing how lavish they would be of that little which they had) durst not trust them with any considerable stock of wit, beleeve they are priviledg'd to cry it down in others; Men, that, conscious of their owne basenesse, obstinately arme against truth and knowledge, and by custome of [Page] Malice are grown so barbarous, as they will vindicate a Prostitute, or set a spurious birth upon the highest point of Honour; but endeavour to stab their forked tongues into the bosome of the most chast and noble Virgin; my meaning is, that they will cherish common and shallow fancies; Births so infamous, that they can onely speak their Parents shame, when a Legitime Poem often falls a sacrifice to the many-headed and no brained Multitude. From the rage of these, I fly [...]o you for Protection, as confident (how desperately soever otherwise bent,) they dare not violate so holy a Sanctuary. Nor doe I doubt, but you will guard [Page] me from so treacherous and unjust an Enemy, as pretends to reprove my Faults; but indeed acts his own Malice, and would have persecuted me worse, had this been better. Neither am I so impudent, as to desire you should, against the equity of your own Conscience, defend a trifle, and approve to others what you your self mislike: No (Madame) I request you to be my Judge as well as Patron; as well to punish where you finde me faulty, as to protect me Innocent; and if after due examination had, my whole Book shall appeare guilty of cheating my Readers out of so much time for nothing, sentence it to the fire; and beleeve me, I [Page] would not bewaile mine owne sufferings, if condemned by so Legall a Process. But if you shall be pleased to receive it into any degree of Favour, I shall be secure, that it is not altogether to be despised, and in that confidence, dare, both vindicate my self unto the world, and make my owne revenge of such as shall provoke me. Your wisdome, Justice, and singular affection to the MUSES, (to wrong whom, I beleeve you esteem, as well as I, a sinne next Sacriledge) may sufficiently warrant all men, that your Judgment will be unbias'd. Therefore as that shall determine of me, I will either quietly submit my selfe to all censures, or rise up in defence [Page] of my Innocence. In the meane time, I will not speake one word in mine own behalfe; onely if this shall faile your expectation, and prove unworthy this Honour it is advanced to; I beseech you exercise both your Justice and Mercy, burne it, but forgive him, who will ever esteeme it his greatest happinesse to be reckn'd amongst the number of
Your Servants, EDMUND PRESTWICH.
TO THE IUDICIOUS READER.
Iudicious Reader,
AS I must confesse, nothing could please me more, than to know that my endeavours had pleased thee; so I must tell thee, nothing can trouble me less than the knowledge that they have not; chuse how thy judgement be stated, I am resolved to make my benesit of it; for if thy applause shall crowne these first Essaies of my Youth, the highest soaring ambition could not have expected a more grateful successe, than that, which (besides an ample recompence for what I have already done) brings along with it sufficient matter of encouragement for the future, and (as it were) kindly constrains me to continue the pursuite of a study, which mine owne Inclinaaion hath but [Page] too violently begun, making that appeare the child of gratitude which is now perhaps by some accounted folly. Nor doe I doubt, but the▪ affectionate Zeale of a thankfull soul, togeather with a gen'rous scorn to bely a judgement so advantagious to my selfe, will prompt my Genius to higher and braver things for thy pleasure, then ever yet I could attaine to for mine own; but if with what I seek to obtain thy favour, I shall only purchase a meritorious anger, thou mayst condemn these trifles, ad ficum & piperem, or if thou wilt (as unserviceable even there) to more base and servile offices; and beleeve me, I can forgoe (without the least act of repentance) so fruitlesse a study, as yeelds me neither fame nor profit; nor shall I esteem it a smal peece of friendship to stop my wild carreere, my foot being upon so dangerous a Praecipice. Thus far to thee, whose censure is grounded upon the sure foundation of an uncorrupted reason. Now thou, who makest a Lottery of thy mouth, and shuffling thy words together, fetchest thy dislike or approbation from the meere vertue of chance, mayst be pleas'd to consider, [Page] that I shall not easily be afraid of noise, that am so confident against the most imminent dangers, therefore if thy sick palate cannot relish such cates as I have set before thee; if thou look upon my lines with such a kinde of an odium, as petulant Curres do upon Forrainers, bark till thy spleen burst, thou hurtst not me; but if the toy take thee to give me a wretched commendation, I shal but give thee cold thanks, with a non minimum est quod stultis placui. Thus you may both see that I (being above either hope or feare) crave not any thing at your hands, onely one small request I have, and that litle relating to my self; namely, that since some Friends have been pleased to usher my darke f [...]et into the World, that you would not by my weaknesse measure their discretion, but affection: grant this, and however you censure me, I shall continue
Your Friend, EDMUND PRESTWICH.
To my Noble Friend M r Edmund Prestwich,upon his Elegant POEMS.
SIR, You have gently cur'd my fears, and I
Congratulate Emergent Poesie,
And you her Tutelar Angel, who have made
Her live, and by your wit secur'd her shade
By you, (his better
Seneca) reviv'd
Hippolitus is now grown longer liv'd;
And
Seneca himself that could not dye,
Hath gain'd another Immortality
Yet here, you but translated; when you chuse
An amarous Tract, and speake your own free Muse
My admiration over-reads my Eye,
And I am last in the full Harmony.
JA: SHIRLEY.
To my Worthy Friend M r Edmund Prestwich,on his Translation of Hippolitus.
HArd is thy Fate (great wit) thus to advance
Thy Poem in this age of Ignorance,
To send it forth in such a time as this,
Where none must judge but such as judge amisse;
Course fordid censurers, that thinke their eyes
Abus'd if sixt, on ought but
Mercuries,
When honest judgements will not doubt to swear
Thy work deserves an
Amphitheatre.
Nor is this piece such as of late hath been
The tedious stuff
[...] of
Poetasters seen,
Wit to a nobler height, doth thine intend;
No common labour to no common end:
For by thy Version wee are taught anew,
T'interpret what we vainly thought we knew
But still mistook; so that in this we finde
Thou canst do
Mira
[...]les, and cure the blinde.
The Orac'lous mist from
Seneca is fled,
Which with fresh
Laurel, crowns his verdant head,
And the black curtain of his clowded sense,
Is drawn by thy exact Intelligence.
Hippolitus that erst was set upon
By all, mangled by mis-construction
Dis-membred by mis-prison, now by thee
And thy ingenious
Chirurgerie;
Is re-united to his limbs, and grown
Stronger as thine, then when great
Theseus son.
Go on then wits example, and revive,
What none but such as thee, can keep alive;
Slack not the work for want of Industry
For not a line, of those thou writ'st can die.
Char: Cotton.
To his most Honoured and most Ingenious Friend, M r. Edmund Prestwich, upon his happy Translation of Seneca, his Tragedy of Hippolitus.
WRetched Translators! they who only know
How like the Moon reflections faint to show
To those benighted Ignorants that dare
Not look upon the Sun in his own Sphear;
That their Translations are the Authors Hell
Where nothing but their ghastly shaddows dwell.
Thine's a Parhelion in height and glory
Yet not prodigious nor transitorie.
By this thy Version
Seneca doth get▪
A better
Genius fresher bayes hath met.
What can I say, but thou translat'st him even,
As God would man from Paradise to Heaven;
But sin those coppies blur'd so that but one
True Manuscript could find Translation.
Hippolitus hath such a handsome Mine
Drest by thee; thy Muse, worse than th' Attick queen
Will I'm afraid in this transplanted Grove
Inc
[...]stuously her own Issue Love.
[Page]Hee's truly
Virbius, for thou hast done
More for him now, then erst did
Phoebus sonne;
When his torn limbs lay like a shatter'd lute
He them patch'd up, with new breath did recruit.
In Miracles yet him thou dost out-doe
Giv'st other life and that Immortall too.
Ioves Vengeance damp't his art, that durst controul
The Laws of Fate, bring home a once fled soul.
Thine to doth thee to Heavens envy raise,
But th'art secure from thunder by thy bayes
But why translate, gild, hatch, why not appear
Thy solid self, sad Ingot, neat, not tear,
As when men court the Maidenhead of light,
Desire to see the first, first rayie flight
Of
Phaebus shafts, they face about toth' West
There see some cliffe kist by the new-come Guest;
So in the ponent of things past must we
Look for thy day-break, and lo there we see
Thy dawning wit, with early glory play
On this
Iberian Mount of
Corduba.
And I'm content, 'cause my weake eyes are able
To see thy Sun thus in the water dabble;
But risen to his Zenith, Oh, who can
Stare at thy
Halos, when Meridian?
Cromwel Stanhop.
To his much Lov'd Friend M r Edmund Prestwich on his Translation of Hippolitus.
Dearest,
MIstrust not; thy
Hippolitus,
Will rellish much, with
God with Us,
And I'm ascertain'd that this Nation,
Likes nothing like to a Translation.
RIC. ROGERS.
To his Honoured and Ingenious Friend M r. Edmund Prestwich on his Translation of Hippolitus.
TO say that now the Pedant understands
Words, which no comment open'd to his hands
Or sense, his brains less able to obey,
Than patience, or the forgotten quarter-day, head.
Were praises of a pestilence more dead
Than thunder, t' blast thy Laurel 'bout thy
To bring thee commendations from their schools
Were to translate the wisemen into fools
As if we added unto Books more state
By
Imprimaturs fetch'd from
Billinsgate.
No, to praise thee's to shew this age of ours
How far thy Fancy, outwings
Cesars powers,
He, who joynd seas, & piniond
Neptuns arms
Aff
[...]ighted Nature with the wild alarms
Of his Triumphant madness might transfer
His hand oreth' life of that Philosopher,
Thy Poets Ancestor, which to restore
Must make ev'n vanquish'd
Nero cry
no more
[Page]
Here all my powers make Alt; but thou hast made
Thy Poet a new body to his Shade;
Not the long sleep of fifteen hundred yeers,
Nor the confusion of inrich't Sepulchers,
Where's better part lay gnawn on by those moths
Of happy Spirits, ignorance & goths;
Affright thy daring
Genius thou dost state
The laws of Nature, and decrees of Fate
Bidst massie Marble, her entomb'd up give:
Command'st ev'n dust, re-animate and live:
Mak'st this Tragedian, by new life be known
Less signall in all Tragedies than's own.
He lives in greater beauty than whē th' throng
Of ravish'd
Romans fed their ears with's song.
Thus Poets, (if their happy thought can clime
But to as high an excellence as thine)
Like the last Angel in th' dissolvent skies,
Bid but the dead awake, and they arise.
Edward Williams.
To his Honoured and Ingenious Friend M r. Edmund Prestwich, upon his Poems, and Translation of Hippolitus.
MOst men wil sure mistake when they behold
My rustick Muse, thus confidently bold
Entruding in your Front; till they shall know
Her humbler pride, conceal'd her far more low
Until surpris'd, commanded, and confin'd,
Unto this height, by your Magnetick minde
Which you so richly have Imbodyed here
Though in anothers mould; you can appear
(I do believe in full as various shapes
As
Jupiter ere did to act your rapes
Upon our Muses, since your curious art
Hath wrought a miracle of this desert
Which (like a Verger) I would stand and tell
Did not its Character too much excell
My crepid fancy, whilst by your Translation
As by a Magically replantation
From the vitriall form, old
Seneca y've rais'd
In as full verdancy, as his most prais'd,
And vigorous youth, h've rendred him before
Both Symetry, and Features, and whats more
[Page]Given life by Tragedy; Founding your Art
In true Pilosophy, which you impart
In lively
Helycon to th' torrid wits
Of our poore panting times, where nought befits
The raging humour, but what's worthless born
Mean as the age; beneath a Poets scorn.
Though some there are, whose true born Eagle eies,
Will rightly scan it, and return the prize
Of ful grown Laurel, to the full blown Muse
Of your yet springing brow; none will refuse
To add a branch unto that wreath; whilst I
Thus like a shade contentedly stand by.
A Sable Foil dropt on the beauteous Front
And yet not cast the least of Lustre on't
Your Humble devoted MAT. CART
[...]R.
HIPPOLITUS ENGLISHED.
The Actors Names:
- Hippolitus.
- Phaedra.
- Nuncius.
- Chorus.
- Theseus.
- Nutrix.
ACTUS Primi.
SCENA Prima.
Enter
Hippolitus, and divers servants, as to Hunting.
Hip.
GO, and surround the shady woods, and those
High cliffs, which do impale the mountains brows
Disperse, and with your quickest speed descry
Those ragged quarries under
Parnes tye
View the
Thriasian vales, and banks which are
Worn by the force of rapid torrents, there
[Page 2]Clime up these hils, which with obdured snow
Are ever crownd. Some of you this way go
Where the high aldars into arbours tye
The woods, where those embroidered fields do lie
Which 2
Zephyr, quickning with his dewie breath
Decks with those flowers he called from beneath
Where smooth 3
Ilissus runs flank'd on both sides
With Isicles, where slow 4
Meander glides
Ore th' equall fields, and frets the sterile shore
Run with unprofitable waters ore.
Take you the left path, whence the woods descry'd
To 5
Marathon, where beasts, accompani'd
With flocks of yonglings, do their stomacks right
Grown bold by the protection of the night.
Go you more Southerly, and take the way
Leads to frost-thawing 6
Acarnania.
The rock of sweet 7
Hymetus you: the small
8
Aphidnae you must visit; this Part shall
Yet rest, where the embowed Ocean doth
On 9
Suniori beat it self into a froth.
Whoever hath a soul with Glory fir'd
Him 10
Philalis doth call, Lo here retir'd
Lies the sierce Boar, the lab'ring Husbands fear
But too well known, now by those wounds they wear
Slip you the silent dogs, and you restrain
Th' impatient courage of th' Molossian:
And let the struggling
Cretensian Bitch
With her bald neck the stubborn Collar stretch.
But have a care that straighter couples hold
The fiery Spartane, for the dog is bold
[Page 3]And eager after game, the time draws nigh
The caves shall Eccho back, the deep mouth'd cry
Now may they, while the dawning lasts, while yet
The dew retains the figure of their feet,
The air examine with a curious guest,
And on the nose run to the holds 'oth' beast;
While he, bowing beneath the burthen, beares
The more unus'd, lay you the lesser snares.
The painted counterfeit, from thence will speed
The frighted Beasts, into our toils indeed
Do you a light and missile javelin shake,
But you in either hand a Boar-spear take
And so employ your might, in ambush laid
Drive you the game, by your loud cryes dismaid
Headlong into our nets; and as for you
Embowell what we happen to subdue!
Assist sacred 11
Virago, for thou art
Sole Queen of the worlds solitary part:
Thy never-erring shafts the Beasts doe slay
That drinks the 12 cold
Araxes, or doth play
In frozen
Ister: Cretan Harts by thee
And Lybian Lions persecuted be▪
Now lightly woundest thou the flying Buck
To thee, the spotted Tigre to be struck
Proffers his brest; Thou for thy ease mayest take
The Buffs broad horns, or the Buls humbled back
Whatever feed in deserts, whether they
Be known to the rich-grov'd
Arabia,
Or needy
Garamas, let their abodes,
Be in
Pyrenean Cliffs, or
Hircan woods,
[Page 4]They and the vagabonding Scythians bear
To thy Artillery an awfull fear.
Whose Piety hath thee's Associate made,
Broke by no feet, his nets have fettered
The captiv'd Beasts; the Cart hath seemd to groan,
Under the weight of the brave prey thereon.
Then the Dogs Snouts in blood are dy'd, then come
The glorying Huntsmen, as in Triumph home.
Hearken, my Dogges do spend, and the hot cry
Assures me I have pleas'd her Deity.
I'm summon'd to the woods, this way Ile take
Whereby I may the shorter journey make.
Exit.
Actus Primi. Scena Secunda.
- Phaedra.
- Nurse.
Ph.
O 1
Crete, great Soveraign of the Seas that be
Replete with ships, on each side coasting thee,
All such as plough the Deep, and cut their
way
Thorow these Floods, open t'
Assyria;
2 Why am I hostage, where I hate? or why,
Given in Marriage to my Enemy,
To be drawn out in misery and teares,
Hast thou condemnd the remnant of my yeares?
My wandring Husband absent
Theseus hath▪
Not in his Marriage, lost his wonted faith.
[Page 5]Champion to an 4 audacious Sultor now
The
Hero stalketh in the dark below;
Pluck'd from the throne of the infernall King
These mad-men
Proserpine again will bring.
Nor fear, nor sence of shame restrain him: Thus
The glorious Father of
Hippolitus.
In Hell it self endeavoureth to meet
With lowless pleasures and forbidden sheets.
But (ah) I am with greater weights opprest
Not from my cares by Night or sleep releast:
The Ill is nourish'd, which too fast doth grow
And burns within; so vapours straitned flow
From the wombe of 5
Aetna idle stands
The loom, the shittle falleth from my hands.
Now in their Temples do I take no care
To bribe the Gods with vows to hear my prayer
Nor 'twixt the Altars, joyn'd with Attick Dames,
Shake in those silent Duties conscious flames.
Nor 6 with chast Prayers, and pious rites draw near
The Goddess, that
Praesides by 7 conquest here.
I rather would pursue the roused beast
My soft hand with a rugged javelin prest.
O! whither will my vexed soul? Alas,
Why Frantick, doe I thus affect the chase?
8 My mothers crime was fatall now I prove
And in the Woods have plac'd my sinful Love.
Mother, I doe repent thee now. Thou took
A Bull, wild, and impatient of the yoke.
Distemper'd with thy ill, thy lust prefer'd
The Fierce Conductor of the Salvage herd▪
[Page 6]Yet did he something love: What God can ease▪
What
Dedalus can quench such flames as these
Should he return, whose powerfull Art did build
The Labyrinth my Brothers Monster held
He could not help, my case admits of none
Venus offended with the tell-tale Sun,
9 On us his off spring doth revenge the Gyves
She, and her
Mars sustain'd, who ere derives
Her self from
Sol, Venus depraves her mind
None dead with Love, but Love and impious joyn'd.
Nu.
Thou wife of
Theseus, and the 10 child of
Iove
From thy chaste brest drive this unseemly Love:
Quench me these Flames, nor yeeld to such a hope
As may affright thee.
He who gives a stop
And a Repulse to Love at first, hath bin
Victor, and Safe: who cherishes the Sin,
Too late denyes to undergo the yoke
Himself put on: Neither am I mistooke
In Princely tumors, how the stubborn mind
Scorns truth, and will not be to right inclind,
The Fates decrees are welcome, who are old
To see their end approaching grew more bold.
First wilt t' oppose, nor faulter in that will,
'Tis next to modesty to know in ill
A measure. Wretch! what wilt thou do? Ah, why
Dost thou increase thy houses infamy,
And overact thy Mother? this exceeds
Her sin, and more than monstrous be thy deeds.
For to compulsive Fate we attribute
Monsters, but sins to manners we impute
[Page 7]Think'st thou thy crime more safe and void of fear
'Cause 11
Theseus sees not what is acted here?
Thou art mistaken, for suppose he dwell
For ever there, doom'd t' a perpetuall Hell.
What will thy 12 Father doe▪ thy Father aws
The Sea, and gives a hundred Cities Laws:
And Parents are quick-sighted; What will he
Winke at so horrid an Impiety?
But grant our craft, or circumspection might
Conceal it from him. What will that great Light
Of all things, Father to thy Mother doe?
What the Gods fruitfull Seminator, who
As he his Thunder brandishes, doth shake
The trembling world? are these like to mistake
Canst thou yet hope unseen, to keep thy crime
From these All-seeing Grandfathers of thine▪
But say the fav'ring Deities should hide
The fact, and (as it does great sins betide)
None credited thy incest: yet thou'lt finde
A present pain, a self accusing mind,
With horror big, and of is self afraid,
Some unreavel'd, none sin unpunished.
Bridle thy impious love, a crime which yet
No barb'rous Nation ever did commit:
To Goths, and Scythians, and those who on
Inhospitable
Taurus dwell unknown.
From thy chaste brest expell these strange desires,
Thy Mother warnes thee from such uncouth sires:
Shall Son, and Father have one common bed,
Thy impious womb fill'd with a mixed seed?
[Page 8]13 Well, doe; with thy illicite flames make war
'Gainst Nature, and impose new Laws on her.
We are at want of Monsters, and of late
Thy Brothers Court (alas) is desolate!
Shall unaccustom'd births the world appall
And Nature be as oft unnaturall
As a Cretense shall love?
Ph.
I know dear Nurse,
Your counsel's good, but I must follow worse;
Fury compelleth: Wittingly I stray,
Striving in vain my judgement to obey▪
So when an over-burdened ship receives
The unwelcome Buffets of encountring waves,
Vain is the Seamans toil, in spite of them
The Vessel goes with the prevailing stream.
Love reason vanquishes, and countermands
Nor will admit a Rivall where he reigns,
His Kingdome is the World, he hath great
Iove
Scorched with the unruly flames of Love.
Fired the brest of the stern God of war.
And the dread-thunder-forging
Mulciber;
He, who in
Aetna, doth for ever turn,
The glowing Embers with a spark doth burne
Phoebus himself who aims his shafts so true,
By the more skillful Boy is wounded too.
Gri
[...]vous his power in Heaven, in Earth the same.
Nu.
Lust fav'ring Vice did first this Godhead frame
And that it might the greater freedome have
The name of Deity to fury gave.
Condemn'd (forsooth) by
Venus for to live
Thoroug
[...] the World a restless fugitive
[Page 9]He, as he through the yeelding air doth fly,
Fashions his troublesome Artillery;
And now this Little one so great is grown
The Gods submit to his dominion.
These Vanities were feignd: Some guilty mind
To her a Godhead, him a bow assign'd.
Swell'd with prosperity who flows in Vice
Not daining to admit one pleasure twice;
Lust the companion of great Fortunes waits
On him: he is not pleas'd with wonted cates
Firm-builded houses, nor your grosser meat.
Why doth this Pallace-haunting plague retreat
From humble roofs? a pious Love dwells there:
The Vulgar have affections void of fear.
Princes, and rich men will have more than right
When meaner men can cu
[...]b their appetite.
Who but too much can doe, yet would that he
Could more. Consider thou thy quality
And thy returning Husbands Scepter fear
Ph.
Alas Love swayes his powerfull Scepter here
And I fear no returns, none gone from hence
To the dark house of death find passage thence.
Nu.
Be not too credulous, say the gates of Hell
Were shut, and
Cerberus the Centinell:
Theseus hath forc'd the way hath bin forbid.
Ph.
Yet he perhaps would pardon, if did.
Nu.
Why He was cruell to a wife was chaste
14
Antiope can testifie his hast.
But grant we might appeale thy angry Spouse,
Yet who can move the stern
Hippolitus?
[Page 10]He doth abhor the very name of wife,
And obstinately vows a single life.
Marriage he shuns, an
Amazon thou knows.
Ph.
Stay, he in mountains crown'd with frequent snows,
Or fly he over the sharp rocks; I will
Follow him through the woods, and ore the hils.
Nu.
Will he be tempted who resisteth Love?
Will he chaste pleasures for unchast remove?
Be kind to thee, for whom (perhaps) alone
He hates the sexe?
Ph.
With prayers he may be won.
Nu.
Hee's cruell.
Ph.
Love tameth the cruell too.
Nu.
Hee'l flie.
Ph.
Flie he by Sea, I will pursue.
Nu.
Remember thou thy Father.
Ph.
We doe call
Our 15 Mother too, to memory withall.
Nu.
All woman-kind he hates.
Ph.
I am the more
Secure, of being rival'd with a whore.
Nu.
Theseus will come.
Ph.
And 16 Pyrithous together.
Nu.
Thy Father'l come.
Ph.
What 17 Ariadnes Father.
Nu.
By these dear brests, by these time-dyed hairs,
And by this bosome over-worn with cares,
I pray thee have compassion on thy selfe.
For to desire it is a peece of health,
Ph.
[Page 11]
I have not lost all shame: Nurse I obey.
The Love I cannot rule I conquer may.
Thou shalt not suffer in thy Fame; this is
The onely reason bridles my amiss.
18 My Husband will I follow, and prevent
My sin by death.
Nu.
Dear Madam, some restraint,
Give to these passions▪ I the more esteem
Your life, because you do your self condemn.
Ph.
Yes, dye I will: but whether halter, knife,
Or leap from
Pallas tower conclude my life
I know not yet. Oh that my chastity
Can only guarded by selfe-ruine be.
Nu.
What think'st thou me? so impotent my age
To suffer this? yet moderate thy rage.
Ph.
To such as merit, and resolve to dye
Reason in vain doth urge the contrary.
Nu.
Thou onely comfort of my aged yeares,
Since so perverse, a fate thy will ore bears,
Contemn thy fame. Fame speaks not as it shou'd
Good to the bad, and bad unto the good.
Let us aslay him, and this Nature prove,
So froward, so intractable to Love.
This labour shall be mine; Ile undertake
The Stubborn youth, and exorable make.
Exeunt.
CHORUS.
[Page 12]
1 GOddess, the off-spring of the troubled floud,
And Mother to as troublesome a God,
2
The twin'd Cupid; with what a certain aim,
Alike immod'rate in his flames and them,
The boy his shafts doth levell! the disease
Creeps through the marrow and impoverishes
With an insinuating fire the veins.
The Wound appeareth not in scars, but pains
Within, ransacks the very bones; this boy
To peace is a professed enemy.
Thorow the world, his shafts are nimbly thrown,
Those Coasts that first salute the rising Sun,
Or
[...]id him last good night: those that do sweat
Under the torrid
Crabs consuming heat,
And those which doe beneath the cold
Bear freeze,
Peopl'd but with uncertain Colonies
Have felt these flames; in youth he blows the fire,
Reviveth age-extinguished desire
In crazed limbes, and the cold Virgins snow
Melts with a warmth her bosome doth not know.
At his command the Gods forsake the skies,
And borrowed shapes obscure their Deities.
Phoebus his harp layes by; unequall reeds
3 Gather the herd he in
Thessalia feeds.
4 How often hath the cloud-dispelling
Iove
Bin clothed in the meanest shapes for love?
Now like a Swan he claps his silver wings,
And sweeter than the dying true one sings.
[Page 13]Now like a wanton Steer in play doth take
The Royall Virgin on his humbled back,
With his oare-imitating feet he ply
[...]s
His 5 brothers waves, and unknown Realms descries;
He breaks the Sea with his opposed brest,
Of his fair Rape, fear'd to be disposest.
The clear-fac'd Goddess of the night hath burn'd,
And over her forsaken Ch
[...]riot turn'd
To her unskilful Brother; now the Sun
Doth learn to drive two horses, and doth run,
A shorter course; day rises slowly, and night,
Keeps no proportion with the wronged light
Retarded by the unaccustom'd weight▪
7
Alcides hath his quiver laid aside,
And the
N
[...]maean Lions dreadfull hide;
Now he the Emra
[...]ld to his finger fits
And his neglected hair in order fits.
With gold-embroidered buskins he doth bind
His legs, his feet, in yellow socks contein'd,
And with that hand in which the club was born
He twists the threed, and doth the spindle turn.
Persia, and fruitfull
Lydia saw the skin
Of the fierce beast lye by rejected then;
And those huge shoulders, which did once support
And serve for pilla
[...]s to the heavenly Court,
Clad in a Pall with
Tyrian purple dy'd,
The fire is sacred, (credit those have try'd)
And but too potent; for as far as land
By the salt Ocean is invirond, and
The scattered Stars illuminate the Skie,
Reaches the Kingdom of this peevish boy.
[Page 14]Though guarded by the interposed seas,
His darts have wounded 8 the
Nereides;
Nor could the Ocean quench the kindled flame,
The feather'd Nation too hath felt the same,
By lust provok'd; how the fierce Bull hath warr'd
To be the sole Commander of the Herd!
The tim'rous Hart his rival once in sight,
Fearles, himself addresses to the fight;
And testifies his fury with his voice.
Then the black
Indies tremble at the noise,
Of spotted Tigres: Then, all white his mouth.
With rage engendred foam, the wild Boar doth
His deadly tushes whet: The Lyon when
He feels this sting of Love, his horrid mane
Tosses on high, the very forrest faints
Then with the noise of her inhabitants.
The Monsters of the deep this power have prov'd,
Both they, and the
Lucanian Oxe have lov'd.
Nature doth claim a priviledge in all,
Her yoke is universall, hate doth fall
At the command of Love, that ancient fire
Extinguish'd by the new one of desire,
Why should I more rehearse? it is enough
We see a Step-dames bosome not of proof
Against the Strok of Love. What news bringst thou?
Speak Nurse, and s
[...]y, where thou halt left her now.
Finis Actus Primi.
Actus Secundi.
Scena Prima.
- Nurse.
Nu.
NO hope can salve this sore, nor wil that fire
Be ever quench'd which fr
[...]nzy raizes higher
Although no crackling flame, although conceald
In her close br
[...]st, 'tis by her face reveal'd;
Her
[...]es doe sparkle, and her sh
[...]unke checks flie
The light. Best pleased with variety
Is her divided soul; her body feels
The motion of her troubled sprite and reels.
Now her faint limbs a dying measure tread,
And scarce her weary neck sustains her head;
Now would she resta while, but straight forbears
Forgotten sleep, and spends the night in teares:
She rises, and again is laid: Shee looses
Her scattered
[...], and again composes;
She varies habit, wea
[...]y of her self,
And grows regardles both of food and health;
S
[...] languishingly goes, her strength decay'd
And from her checks the wither'd roses fade.
Care doth dissolve her joynts: a trembling pace
She holds, not near so comely as shee was.
And those same eyes, that testified her line
From
Phoebus, nothing like her Grandsire shine.
[Page 16]Still are her cheeks with teares bedewed: so
A warm showr melteth the dilated snow
Upon the cliffs of
Taurus; but behold
The Court is ope, where on a couch of gold
Leanes the inclined Lover, and her brain
Distemperd, doth her own attire disdain.
Ph.
Good maids these gold and purple garments bear
From hence, what should the
Tyrian dye doe here?
Or wooll, which the trees mollified rind
Yeelds to the Sexes? a short Zone shall bind
My loins, for expedition girt; no load
Of pearl, on us by Indian Seas bestowd,
Shall lengthen out my cares, nor will I deck
With any Carkanet my widdowed neck.
No perfume my dishevel'd hair doth need,
Careless upon my neck and shoulders spread,
And by the wind displayed, my left shall bear
A quiver, and my right hand shake a spear.
1 Such was
Hippolita, and as she guides
From frozen
Tanais, and
Maeotis sides
Her troops to Attick coasts, her hair collected
Into a knot, and then again rejected;
A Crescent shield gaurding her side, even so
Accoutred I, into the woods will goe.
Nu.
Comp
[...]in no more, gri
[...]f doth not ease (great Q
[...]een)
The wrete
[...]ed. Wil the fire observe a mean?
Invoke the Virgin Goddess of the wood.
H
[...]il sacred Q
[...]een of forrests, whose abode
Alone is on the hills; alone who art
There worshipped, these dire portents avert.
[Page 17]Thou, the woods awfull Deitie: the bright
Planet of Heaven, the ornament of night,
One of the worlds alternate lamps, the trine
Aspected
Hecate favour our design.
Tame this hard-hearted youth, that he may learn
To love, and with a mutuall ardour burn;
Incline his cares, his brest unarme, his mind
Ingraft in hers, though froward, harsh, unkind;
Let him pay
Venus homage, thus thy might
Employ. So still unshaded be thy light.
Through the dispersed clouds making thy way
With thy resplendent horns: so from thy sway
2 May no
Thessalian Witches thee constrain,
3 Nor thou thy honour forf
[...]it to a Swain.
Goddess invok'd, thou'st heard my prayer, lo now
I see him paying of his yearly vow.
Alone he is, wherefore are these delayes?
Art must be us'd. Fortune gives time and place.
What tremble I? 'tis hard for to obey
A Crime, but he that fears a prince must lay
Conscience aside, and modesty expell,
The bashfull never serv'd a Monarch well.
Actus Secundi. Scena Secunda.
- Hippolitus.
- Nurse.
Hip.
THy weary steps why hither bendest thou
With such a clouded face, & troubled brow,
[Page 18]Good Nurse? I hope my Father is not dead,
Nor
Phaedra, nor the pledges of their bed.
Nu.
Fear not, obsequious Fortune, on thy house,
Still waits, and still the land is prosperous.
But thou, mild as thy houses fate, to me,
Give e
[...]r, who 'm so sollicitous for thee;
Because thou thus affl
[...]ctst thy self, whom fate
Makes wr
[...]tched, we may wel comiserate▪;
But who court danger, and themselves abuse
With needless tortures, they deserve to loose
Those blessings which they knew not how to use.
Rather in pitty of thy yeers, thy mind
Release, and in a festive measure joyn'd,
Advance thy torch; in wine thy sorrows drown
Enjoy thy youth, which will be gone too soon.
Now apt for all Impressions is thy brest,
Venus to yong men, is a welcome guest.
Now glad thy soul: Why shouldst thou lye alone?
Solace thy youth, but too unpleasant grown:
Sl
[...]cken the reins, wholly to riot bent.
Nor let thy better dayes be thus mispent.
The Gods draw out our lives by their degrees
All
[...] them p
[...]culiar properties.
Cheerfull when yong, in age reserv'd. Why doth
A hard restraint thus kill thy toward youth?
A large encrease sh
[...]ll crown the husbands toil,
Whose seed is tightly fitted to his soil:
And all the trees are over-grown by those
Which still uncropt preserve their maiden boughs.
Good dispositions greatest praise doe merit
When nat'rall freedom guides a nobl
[...] spirit.
[Page 19]Salvage, and ignorant, thou to a wife
Preferr'st a melancholy single life.
Dost thou thinke to
[...]l a priviledge? to ride
The fierie cour
[...]er till he lose his pride,
Or try the bloudy issue of a field?
When the eternall providence beheld
So many enemies to life he made
Fresh off-springs to replenish the decay'd.
Go too. Let
Venus of humane affaires
Dispose, who our diminish'd stock repairs;
Should but our youth be barren all thou sees,
After an ages standing vanishes.
Coverd' with rubbish, the uncultur'd land
Would lye, the sea unnavigated stand,
The empty forrest; beasts, air, birds would want,
The wind being the sole inhabitant.
How many casuall deaths on mankind wait,
Extinguish'd by the sea, the sword, dece
[...]t!
But say that these were wanting: yet to all
For to pursue their end is naturall.
Nature the guide of life, obey'd, frequent
The Citty then, and publike meetings haunt.
Hip.
There is no life more free, void of offence▪
Or nearer to the pristine Innocence,
Than what is to the woods confind, who lives
With a clear Conscience on the mountains cliffs
Is not enslam'd with avarice, nor draws
The aire of seldome merited applause.
Is not with envy swell'd, nor kindnes blown,
Nor favorite, nor vassall to a crown.
[Page 20]He covets not vain honours, nor th' uncertain tide
Of wealth, not hope and fear doe him divide
Him scarce the poisonous tooth of malice wounds
Nor doth he know the usuall crimes of towns,
And great concourses, feares not every noise
Like guilty persons, nor inventeth lies;
A thousand Columes don't his roof uphold,
Nor are his rafters fastened with gold.
His Altars doe not flow with streams of blood,
Nor, with the sacred 1 meal, their foreheads strew'd,
A
Hecatombe of white oxen expects
The stroak of death, and bow their hundred necks.
But he the countrey doth enjoy, endu'd
With a most sweet and pleasing solitude▪
Harmless he wanders through the open air,
Nor can he any thing but beasts ensnare.
And, when with labour faint, his weary limbs
Refreshes with
Ilissos Chrystall streams.
Now he on bankes of swift
Alpheus lyes,
Now thickest coverts of the wood descries,
(Where cool
Lerna through her transparent spring
Shews her clear bottome,) ever wandering.
Here birds complain, there th'ancient Beech receive
Some gentle wind, and shakes her tremblng leaves
Strech
[...]d on a winding shore he loves to take
A nap, and the bare turse his bed doth make;
Whither a fountain falls in scatter'd showers,
Or flying streams salute the new-born flowers
With murm'ring courtship: Wildings are his food,
And strawb'ries gather'd from the underwood.
[Page 21]Meats quickly cooked, he delights to fly
Far from the Courts excessive luxurie,
Let the ambitious drinke in golden cups.
With what a gust he the pure fountain sups
From his convexed palm; and sleep more sound
Securely laid on the obdurate ground.
He lewdly seeks not a retired bed,
Nor in close corners hides his fearfull head:
But he doth the fresh air, and light enjoy,
And that he liveth, Heaven can testifie.
I verily beleeve those
Heroes did
Live thus whom after ages Deifi'd.
They had no thirst of gold, no sacred stones
Did limit their unknown possessions.
Bold▪ ships plough'd not the deep, to forreign shores;
But kept to their own seas, no lofty towres
And ample bulwarks did the city fence,
In armes an universall ignorance.
No engines forc'd the gates, no oxen plough'd
The earth; she wore no badge of servitude,
Flelds fruitfull of themselves suffic'd to seed
A sparing people that did little need.
Woods native riches, and some shadie cave
To them unartificiall lodgings gave.
First headstrong wrath, a furious love of gain,
And lust, which in enflamed minds doth reign,
Broke this integrity, then did there come
A bloody thirst of Empire in the room.
Great men did prey upon the less, and might
Was chosen arbitrator unto right.
[Page 22]Then with bare hands they fought: untrimed boughs
And stones were the first weapons they did use.
The cornell was not shod with ir'n, nor ty'd
The souldier a long sword unto his side,
Nor horses manes crested their helmes; but vext
With smart they took the weapons that were next.
Dire
Mars invented war-like stratagems,
And thousand forms of death, hence purple streams
Defil'd each land: bloud dy'd the blushing mane
Then endles crimes in ev'ry ho
[...]se did reign:
No sin but grew a President; the child,
His Father, Brothers have their Brothers kill▪d,
Women their Husbands, wicked Mothers slew
Their infant births. What then did Step-dames doe
Nothing indeed's more mild than beasts, but this
Woman, sins ringleader and Artifice
Besets our souls, how many Cities are
Fir'd by her Incests, lands ingag'd in war,
And peoples by the ruin'd weight opprest
Of their own Countries? not to name the rest:
3
Medea speaketh the sexe cruell.
Nu.
Why.
Condemn'st thou all for ones Impiety.
Hip.
I slie, abhor, curse all. Whether it from
Reason, or nature, or meer frenzy come:
I love to hate them: Water shall abide
Sooner with fire: V
[...]ssels securely ride
In the devouring 4
Syrtes; the bright day
Sooner shall rise from the
Hesperian Sea,
And wolves be mild to kids, than this my mind
Admit a courteous thought of woman-kind.
Nu.
[Page 23]
Love, the perverse oft tameth, and removes
All hatred 5 this thy Mother Country proves.
Ev'n that fierce Nation did obey the will
Of Love, or thou hadst been ungotten still.
Hip.
In this respect I'm glad my Mothers dead,
Because my hate is now unlimited.
As a fix'd rock on every side, in vain
Assail'd by waves, doth beat them back again;
So he despises what I say: but see
Where the impatient lover comes (ah me)
What Fate attends her? whither falleth shee?
Upon the earth her body breathless lyes,
And death-like paleness doth benight her eyes▪
Madam look up, unloose your tongue, behold,
Hippolitusses arms do you enfold.
Scena Tertia.
- Phaedra.
- Hippolitus.
- Nurse.
VVHo calls me back to grief; my bosome fir'd
A new? how sweetly had I here expir'd?
But why refuse I life? courage my mind,
Try, execute what thou thy self injoyn'd.
Speak boldly, she, who fearfully doth crave,
Begs a deniall; my worst crime I have
Acted long since. Shame commeth now too late,
I've lov'd a sin, if in it fortunate,
[Page 24]A Husbands name may palliate the deed▪
Those sins are oft thought honest, which succeed▪
Go too, begin my soul. Sir, I a while desire
Your privacy: let all the rest retire.
Hip.
See here is none to interrupt us; speak.
Ph.
But m
[...] seal'd lips cannot the silence break.
Both urg'd to speech, and forced to be still.
I call you Gods to witness that my will.
Hip.
Can you not speak your mind.
Nu.
Great griefs are best
By silence, little ones by words exprest.
Hip.
Mother give me the burthen of your cares.
Ph.
The name of Mother to much distance bears.
An Humbler name becomes our Love. Call us
Thy sister, or thy maid,
Hippolitus.
But rather maid. I the most slavish yoke
Will wear. Command it shall be undertook.
Ile clime the frozen
Pindus through deep snows
Run through the fire, and armed t
[...]oops; expose
My naked brest to naked swords, receive
1 This Scepter then, and let me be thy slave.
To rule becommeth thee, me to obey.
It ill becomes a womans arm to sway
So great a Nation, thou who 'rt in the pride
Of blooming youth, thy Fathers people guide.
Protect thy suppliant in thy bosome hid.
Take pitty on a widdow.
Hip.
Heaven forbid:
Madam my Father will come safely back:
Ph.
[...]rom
Styx, and those insatiate realms no track
[Page 25]Doth lead to the forsaken light, shall he
2 Who came a ravisher, dismissed be?
'Lesse
Plut'ol sit down a tame Cuckold too.
Hip.
Heavens far more equall power this will doe.
But while it yet rests in suspence, Ile please
My Brethren with all fitting offices
Protect Thee, that thou seem not widdowed: I
The absence of my Father, will supply.
Ph.
O credulous Lovers! O deceitfull Love!
Hath he not said enough? now prayers shall move.
O pitty; hear even my silence wooe.
I would, yet would not speak.
Hip.
What ailest thou?
Ph.
That which thou little thinks a step-dame should
Hip.
Speak plainly and thy doubtful words unfold.
Ph.
Why Love within my raging bosome fumes,
And with a cruel fire my reins consumes.
The flame which in my bowels hid remains
Thence shooteth up and down my melting veins,
As agile fire over dry timber spread.
Hip.
What with chast love of Theseus thou art mad?
Ph.
Thou art in the right: I love that ancient face
Which
Theseus had when he a stripling was;
When first the down budding upon his chin
He saw the house the 3
Minotaur was in,
And crooked mazes the long thred up wound.
How glorious then? his hair with sillets bound,
A dainty blush over his cheek was spread,
And his soft arms were the securest bed.
Like thy
Diana, or my
Phaebus then;
Or rather thee: thus, thus he looked, when
[Page 26]He pleas'd his foe; thus loftily did bear
His head, but thou art something hansomer;
Thou'st all thy fathers parts; and yet against
Reason some of thy Mothers too retain'st,
A
S
[...]ythian rigour in a
Graecian face;
Had'st thou come with thy Father in those dayes,
Then
Ariadnes clew had sure been thine,
Thou, thou my Sister, wherefoere thou shine
In spangled
[...]kies, a cause so like thine own
Assist; one family hath both undone,
The Father thee, and me the Son, thou sees
A suppliant Princes fallen on her knees;
Free from aspersions, innocently good;
Chang'd but to thee; I'm sure none else have woo'd
This day to gri
[...]f, or life an end shall bring,
Pitty a Lover.
Hip.
Thou Almighty King
Of Gods canst thou so mildly see, so mildly hear
Her wickednes? if now the Heavens be clear,
When wilt thou thunder? let the troubled air
Now run on heaps, and day a Vizard wear.
May the reversed Stars now backwards
[...]un.
And what dost thou, thou the irradi
[...]te Sun
Behold thy Grand
[...]ilds lusts? for shame lay by
Thy beams, and into utter darkness fly.
And why art thou idle Spectator turn'd
Great
Iove, the world not yet with lightning burn'd,
Thunder at me; let thy quick flame consume
Me, I am wicked, and deserve the doom.
I've pl
[...]as'd my Step-dame, merit I to be
Inc
[...]ous thought? for this Impiety.
[Page 27]Seem'd I most fit? deserves my strictness this?
O Women excellent in wickedness!
O thou in thy unbounded lusts more wild
Than was thy Mother! Sh
[...]e only defil'd
Her self, yet was the wicked the
[...]t betray'd
By the Prodigious issue which shee had;
The doubtfull birth witness'd his Mothers shame
With his fierce look, from the same womb thou came
Thrice happy are they in their prosp'
[...]ous fate
Who are by fraud consum'd, destroid by hate;
Father I envie thee: this sin, this sin,
Is greater then
Medeas could have been.
Ph.
I know our houses Fate▪ I crave, I know
What is forbid, but cannot h
[...]lp it tho,
Thee thorough flames, o're rocks; the foaming deep,
And heady torrents comp
[...]ny I'le keep.
Where ere thou goes, there frantick I will be,
Behold coy youth, again I kneel to thee.
Hi.
Keep of, and touch not my chast lims, what now
Immodest wretch, wilt thou imbrace me too?
Then shall my sword du
[...] vengeance take; my hand
Wreath'd in her hair, her shameless neck doth bend.
Bow-bearing Goddess, never bloud with more
Justice was on thy Altars spilt before.
Ph.
Why now
Hippolitus, I have my wish:
Thou curst my frenzy; 'bove my hope was this,
To perish by thy hand, and chast.
Hip.
Avaunt,
And live; least any thing to thee I graunt,
[Page 28]Nor shall this steel, by thee polluted, ere
Defile my chaster side by hanging there.
What
Tanais, what
Maeotis, which doth pay
His waters tribute to the Pontick sea
Can wash me clean? not all great
Neptunes flouds
Can expiate this crime. O Beasts! O Woods!
Nu.
Why so dull sulled? now the crime is known
Let us plead force and uncompelled own
The impious act. Sin is best hid by sinn,
Who fear to be accused, should begin.
Whether the lewd attempt were ours or his,
Since secret, who shall be his witnesses?
Help, help,
Athenians servants; the obscene
Hippolitus is ravishing the Queen;
Her with his naked sword he threatneth,
And awes her chastity with fear of death.
See now he flyes, and by his fearfull speed
Hath left his sword, a witness of the deed.
First chear the Queen, but let her hair still be
Thus torne, and thus disordered as you see.
These pregnant testimonies of an act
So vile, bear to the City; recollect
Your senses; Madam, Why, alas, do you,
Afflict your self, and sly the publike view?
No Woman ever was from the event
Esteem'd immodest, but from the assent.
Exeunt.
CHORUS.
[Page 29]
SWift as a tempest doth he fly so fast
Cloud-gathering▪
Chorus doth not make such hast
A shooting Meteor doth more slowly stream,
When rapid winds fan the extended flame.
Now may admiring Fame conferr on thee
The honour due to all antiquity:
For so thy beauty doth all others passe,
As
Phoebe seemeth fairer then she was,
When at the full shee doth her fire combine
With meeting horns, and all the night doth shine
Blushing she rises. and the lesser starres
Doe lose themselves in
[...]hat great light of hers.
The evening star appeareth not more bright
When first he ushers in the sable night,
Now 2
Hesperus when rising from the main,
But in the morning
Lucifer again.
Nor thou 3
Bacchus for ever young, thy hair
Unshorn, and vines wreathed about thy spear,
With which thou dost thy sluggish Tigres wound,
Thy horned temples with a Mitre bound,
Dost his untrimmed locks excell; nor set
Thy beauty (
Theseus) on too high a rate,
Because the rumour generally goes,
That
Phaedra's 4 sister thee 'fore
Bacchus chose.
Beauty thou most uncertain good, the gay
And fading treasure of a short-liv'd day
With winged feet how dost thou post away!
[Page 30]The scorching heat of summer hath not kil'd
So soon, the verdant glory of the field;
Ith' middle of the Solstice, when the night
Contracts her self, and makes more room for light:
As these fair colours that adorn the face
Are in a moment gone; no day doth passe
But may the ruines of some beauty boast,
Form is a fading thing. O! who would trust
So frail a good? use it while thou hast power,
For time doth steal away, and every houre,
Is worse than that which went before,
Why lov'st thou deserts? beauty is I'm sure
In those untrodden paths, as unsecure
If hid from middayes h
[...]at in woods thou be
Loose rings of 5
Naiades will compass thee,
Who choicest youths imprison in their streams:
And wanton 6
Silvans shall ensnare thy dreams.
Or if the 7 Moon thought younger than the old
Arcadians from her Starry Orbe behold
That she with wonder will be six
[...]d th
[...]re.
Of late she blush'd, nor any clouds appear
To v
[...]il her naked Lustre, but we grown
Sollicitous for th' colour she was on▪
8 Our kettles beat against
Thessalian sp
[...]lls
When besides th
[...]e, she had no
[...] else;
Thou wert her only cause of stay, and shee
Bu
[...] stopt her ch
[...]riot while shee look'd on thee.
Let fewer frosts but
[...]ip thee, and the rayes
Of
Phoebus seldomer salute thy face,
It will excell the Parian Marble, how
That pleasing frown becomes thy manly brow!
[Page 31]How grave a Majesty is seated there!
Although thy neck might with the Suns compare
His flowing tresses on his shoulders spread
With which hee's both adorn'd and covered:
That rugged front, becoming thee, and those
Short curles, which only Nature doth compose
Though the most warlike Gods thou mightst desie
And from the combate bear the Victory:
Though now, while yet a youth thou equallest,
Al
[...]ides brawnie arms, or
Mars his chest.
If when thou ridest,
Castor never rein'd
His
Cyllarus with such an even hand.
If when thy finger to the loop made fast,
With all thy force thou dost thy javelin cast;
The
Creta
[...]s cannot shoot so far, who be
Esteemed Masters in Artillery,
Or
Parthian like, direct thy shafts on high
And no
[...]e return unblouded from the skie;
But in her bowels sixt, doe make the bird
Thy prey which in the middle region for'd.
Yet (search all ages records for their fate)
The fair have s
[...]ldome proved fortunate.
Some milder God prot
[...]ct thee, and may thou
Live till thou be deform'd, so aged too.
What dare not vexed women do? what snares
Shee to entrap the guiltless youth prepares,
Her cheeks she doth be
[...]ew; her head undresses,
And seeks beleef, in her disordered tresses.
All guil is com'd by woman, but who's he,
That in his face s
[...]ch marks of Majesty
[Page 32]Doth bear; his head erected with that state?
How like
Hippolitus he is! but that
His cheeks do such a ghastly paleness wear,
And such a filth doth clothis flagging hair.
See
Theseus self return'd to Earth is there.
Finis Actus Secundi.
Actus T [...]rtii.
Scena Prima.
- Theseus.
- To him Nurse.
Th.
AT length returned from nights gloomy coasts
And th Pole which shaddows the imprisond ghosts
How light offends mine eies; now is the corn
1
Triptolemusses gift, the fourth time shorn;
Four Aequinoctials now hath 2
Libra seen;
While I uncertain of my Fate have been,
Betwixt the Ills of life and death divided. I
Retain'd this part of life, when I did lye
Buri
[...]d my sence remaind. Great
Hercules
Dragging the 3 dog from hell did finish these
M
[...]series, and brought me thence, but now it wants
The prop of strength, my tired courage faints.
And my legs tremble; what ado had I
To come within the prospect of the skie,
From
Phlegethons Abyss! the toil did seem
Alike to slie from death, and follow him
[Page 33]But stay, what sudden out-cryes pierce mine ears?
Speak some one: In my gates, complaints, and tears,
And sorrow in variety exprest?
Indeed fit welcomes for a hellish guest.
Nu.
Phaedra resolves to dye; she doth despise,
Our bootless tears, and even now shee dies.
Th.
What cause of death? why die? now I am come?
Nu.
Ev'n that doth hasten her untimely doom.
Th.
Thy doubtful speech some great thing doth presage
Speak plainly, whence proceeds so wild a rage?
Nu.
In her own bosome she concealeth that,
To dye determin▪d, none must know for what;
Forward, good Sir, forward, the business might
Crave your best speed.
Th.
Open the door there straight.
Actus Tertii. Scena Secunda.
- Theseus.
- Phaedra.
- Nurse.
- Servants.
O Partner of my bed, dost thou receive
Me thus? This all the welcome I must have;
Lay by this sword; restore my troubled sence,
And say, what fury doth perswade thee hence.
Ph.
Alas great
Theseus, by thy Scepter, by
The toward hopes of thy Posterity,
By thy return, and me now dost permit
Me here to die.
The.
[Page 34]
What cause requireth it?
Ph.
The benefit were lost the cause once known.
The.
Why none shall hear it but my self alone.
Dost thou mistrust thy Husband? never fear
My brest will prove a faithful Treasurer.
Ph.
Conceal thou first, what thou wouldst have conceal'd
The.
Yet shall all means of dying be withheld
From thee.
Ph.
The willing can't want means.
The.
Relate,
What crime thou with thy death wouldst expiate.
Ph.
Why that I live.
The.
Cannot my tears prevail?
Ph.
That death is welcomest which friends bewail.
The.
Well she is obstinate; but I will force
What she conceals with torments from the Nurse.
Load her with ir'ns, stripes shall make her betray
What ere she knows.
Ph.
Now I will tell you, stay.
The.
Why dost thou turn away thy face, and seek
To hide the tears, which trickle down thy cheek?
Ph.
Thee, thee, Father of gods, and thee from whom
Our hou
[...]es first Originall did come,
Dayes brightest Lampe, I call to witness how
I neither to his prayers, nor threats did bow,
And yet my body did his force sustain,
But with my bloud, Ile wash it clean again.
The.
Say who hath been the ruine of our fame?
Ph.
One whom then little thinks.
The.
Tell me his name,
Ph.
[Page 35]
This sword will tell you, which he left, afeard
To be attach'd by the alarum'd guard,
The.
Oh me! what crimes, what monstrous crimes doe I
Behold? rough with the little Imagerie,
The Iv'ry hilt with those Illustrious 1 signs,
Which glorifie th'
Actean Nation shines,
But how escaped he?
Ph.
Why these can say,
With what a fearfull speed he fled away.
Actus Tertii. Scena Tertia.
- Theseus.
The.
OH sacred Piety! O King of Gods,
And thou who rul'st the 1 second
Lot, the floods
What rage possest this impious brat? did
Greece,
Taurus or
Colchian 2
Phasis teach him this?
His deeds declare his line, and he hath shew'd
Whence he first sprung by his degenerate bload.
Those mad
Viragos marriage do despise,
And weary of their long kept Chastities
Turn Prostitutes at last. O cursed root,
Which when transplanted bears no better fruit!
Yet even they flie Incest; an innate
Shame doth keep Natures laws unviolate.
Now where's his feign'd austerity, desire
To imitate the ancients rude attire,
[Page 36]Strictness of manners, gravitie of look?
O jugling life, how art thou still mistook?
The foulest
[...]oul wears the serenest face.
The Impudent doth blush, Strife seems at Peace,
Sin wears the robes of Piety, Deceit
Applaudeth truth, and the effeminate
A rigid abstinence doe counterfeit.
Thou the fierce Virgin Sylvan wert thou then
Reserv'd for this? must thy sins write thee man?
And in thy Fathers bed? now on my knees
I humbly thanke the carefull D
[...]ities
That I did kill
Antiope: least thou
Had'st in my absence forc'd thy Mother too.
Fly vagabond to unknown Realms, although
Thou to the worlds remotest countries goe,
Sever'd from Earth by interposing seas;
Or shouldst thou dwell in the
Antipodes,
Or hide thy self in the obscurest hole,
Beyond the Kingdoms of the Northern Pole;
The seat of snow and winter left behind,
And the cold blasts of that loud-threatning wind;
Yet, yet the sword of vengeance should thee find.
I will pursue thee every where, search places
Remote, Landlock'd, abstuce, confounding mazes,
And wayes inexplicable; and where force
Cannot arrive, Ile reach thee with a curse.
Dost thou know whence I came? great 3
Neptune gave
Me Pow'r three times to ask what I would have,
And seald his promise by the Stygian s
[...]oud,
Behold how sorrowfull a boon I wou'd.
[Page 37]No more let him behold the light, but goe
From his wrong'd Father to the Ghosts below.
To me thy Son a hated pitty show▪
This 4 last gift never had bin ask'd, if I
Were not oppress'd by such an injury.
When in the womb of Hel, where
D is did roar,
And threatning
Pluto stormed, I forbore.
Make good thy promise now, why dost thou stay?
Why hast thou still so undisturb'd a Sea?
With wind-contracted clouds, put out the light
Of Stars, obscure the Heav'ns, and masque the night;
Pour out thy Seas, drive all thy Monsters hither,
Call from the Deep the waves retired thither.
Exit.
CHORUS.
O Nature Mother to the Gods and
Iove
Who sway'st the bright
Olympus, who doest move
The Stars scatterd in their swift O
[...] be, and force
Ev'n those wand'rers to observe a course,
And on their hinges turnst the 1 Pol
[...]s; Why art
Thou alwaies busied in the heavenly part?
Still ord'ring those Celestiall Forms? why dost
Thou take such care that now the winters frost
Sould strip the woods, and then agai
[...]t▪ adorn,
Them with fresh shades; that now the parched corn
The rage of the hot 2 Lion should endure,
Which the more temp'rate Autume doth mature?
But why hast thou, who these dost regulate,
And mov'st the Sphears poys'd with their proper weight
[Page 38]So little care of man: nor dost provide
That good the good, and ill the ill betide.
Mortals doe follow the blind guide of chance
Whose hood winkt bounty doth the worst advance.
The holy perish in the crafty toils
Of lust: The Court is governed by wiles.
The people love to give the wicked pow'r,
And as soon hate whom they doe now adore.
Dejected vertue reapeth but a small
Reward for doing well; the chaste doe fall
Under the curse of want: while potent vice
Is crowned for his fam'd Adulte
[...]ies.
Vain Modesty: and empty Fame!—but stay,
What doth the breathless
Nuncius hast to say,
And sadly stopping, what sinister Chance
Figures he in his wofull Countenance?
Finis Actus Tertii.
Actus Quarti.
Scena Prima.
- Nuncius.
- Theseus.
Nun.
O The sad Fate of Servants! Why am I
The messenger of our calamitie.
Th.
Speak thy news boldly; custom thou shalt find
For all afflictions hath prepard my mind.
Nun.
My tongue refuses the sad office.
The.
Say, What fresh
Mis-fortunes our declining house oppress?
Nun.
[Page 39]
Ah me, your Son is dead.
The.
I wept, my Son
Long since: now but a ravsher is gone.
But speak the manner.
Nun.
Why as he forsook
The City, painting hatred in his look,
Away he flieth with redoubled speed,
And quickly harnesses his lofty Steeds,
Their mettal'd heat, he with the curb allayes,
And divers things un
[...]o himself he sayes;
Curses your throne, oft on your name doth call
And fiercely shakes his slackned reins withall;
When suddenly the Sea did roar and swell
Up to the Stars; not any breathing gale
Did crispe the flouds; no thunder tore the air,
The Sea it self raised a tempest there.
Sicilian Seas are with the South-wind lesse
Disturb'd, nor half that fury doe express
When 1
Chorus rains, stones tumbling up and down
And with white spume doth high 2
Leucates crown.
A hill of waves big with a Monster fled
Unto the shore to be delivered.
Nor is this tempest for the ships prepar'd
But for the land, the Sea rolls thitherward
With a main speed; nor can we guesse what she
Should labour with; what uncouth Prodigie
Earth would shew Heaven, a new 3
Cyclas did
[...] 4
E
[...]culapius Temple now was hid,
And the famd rocks of
Scyron, and with these
The land, straightned betwixt two neigh'bring Seas.
[Page 40]While these amaz'd we seek, behold the Main
Doth roar, and all the rocks resound again;
Whose tops are sprinkled with the waves, which he
Sucks in, and spouteth forth Vicissively.
So through the Ocean as the whirlpool roams
A globe of water from his nostrils comes.
Anon this mountain bursts, and to the shore
Brings something worse, than was our fear before,
The Sea doth follow where the Monster lead,
And overwhelms the land, we shook with dread.
The.
What was the shape of this prodigious beast?
Nun.
He like a Bul erects his seagreen crest,
And virid front: tosses his mane, his ears
Pricks up, and party coloured horns he bears:
Such as might both the conduct of the herd
Become, and the Seas Issues he appear'd:
His e
[...]es do sparkle, and he vomits flame:
His neck curl'd like the Ocean whence he came,
His open nostrils snort aloud: his chest
And deawlap in tenacious Moss are drest:
His ample sides with red are spotted, then
Ends in a Monster; his huge slimie train
Drag'd after him, in far
[...]hest Seas those Whales
Have such which swallow up the obvious sails.
Earth trembles with the load: astonish'd fly
The scatter'd cattle, nor are followed by
Th' affrighted Pastor, beasts the forrest clear;
And all the Huntsmen are half dead with fear.
Only
Hippolitus unmov'd remains,
And his amaze
[...] St
[...]eds with straighter reins▪
Encourag'd by his wel-known voice retai
[...]s.
Tow'rds
Argos lyes a steep and craggy way,
Which all the neighb'ring Ocean doth survey:
Here this vast bulk doth whet himself, and act
In jest first, what he doth intend in fact.
But when he felt his rage increase, and had
Now long enough with his own fury plaid;
Away he flies, scarce any print remains,
And just before the trembling chariot stands.
Your Son nere changeth colour, but doth rise
With angry looks, and thus aloud he cries;
I shall not easily be afraid of this;
To conquer Bulls 5 hereditary is.
But straight his disobedient Steeds, their load
Did carry thence, and having mist the road
They follow'd as their fury lead, and ore
Uueven rocks the jolting Chariot bore.
He, as a skilfull Pilot taketh care
In a rough Sea to keep his Vessell fair,
And with his art beguiles the waves; doth guide
His horses, now he draws their mouths aside
With the strain'd bit, and now the scourge he uses;
Nor all the way his foul companion loses:
Now side by side, he keeps an equall pace:
Now right before; and terror brings each wayes.
But here the flight doth end; just in the way
Standeth the horned Monster of the Sea.
Th'affrighted Steeds then lost all rule, and strove
To run down headlong from the rocks above;
Rising before they cast your Son, who, as
He fell, within the reins entangled was,
[Page 42]Which wound about his body, and the more
He struggled held him faster then before.
They with the empty Chariot run, this known
As their fear guides; commanded now by none
So feeling a strange weight, and scorning that
Day was committed to a counterfeit,
Hurried through the air, the Chariot of the Sun
Shook from his seat the unskilfull 6
Phaeton
His blood besmears the fields: his head the rocks
Doth beat, and Brambles tear away his locks;
Sharp stones dis-figure his fair face, and by
Whole troops of wounds, his hapless form destroy.
The swift wheels drag, his dying limbs at last
His corps on an erected stake is fast.
Struck through the middle of his groin, a while
He staid his chariot fixed on a pile;
His steeds made a short halt, but quickly they
At once both broke their Master, and delay.
Then briers and thorns his half-dead body tear,
And evr'y bush, a piece of him doth weare.
His wofull servants are disper'st to find,
Where his bloud marks the way, he thus dis-joynd
Hippolitus; the howling Beagles goe
In gu
[...]st of their dissever'd Master too.
Nor all their diligence as yet compleats,
The Corps, is this the honour beautie gets?
Who now, Partner, and heir unto a Crown,
As bright as any Constellation shone;
Is gather'd to his Urn in peeces now
O Nature, but too prevalent art thou.
[Page 43]What tyes of bloud dost thou on Parents lay,
Which we, even against our wills, obey!
Whom dead I wish'd, now dead I weep for,
Nun.
None.
Enough can weep, for what themselves have do
[...]e.
The.
Mortals abide no greater curse, than when
Constrain'd to wish what they unwish age
[...].
Nun.
Why do you weep, if you retain your hate?
The.
Not that he's dead, but that I caus'd his fate.
Exeunt.
CHORUS.
HOw fickle is the state of man! the poor
Doe not the fiercest storms of chance endure;
She strikes them with her lightest stroaks, they be
Crownd with content though in obscuritie;
A homely cottage doth the eyelids close
With a secure and undisturb'd repose.
Those lofty towers neer neighbours to the skie
Receive the East and South-winds battery;
The rage of the tempestuous
Boreas, and
The showr-accommpanied
Chorus stand.
The humble valley is but rarely strook
With thunder, when great 1
Caucasus hath shook
And 2
Ida trembled. 3
Iove himself afraid
Of the seal'd heavens, hath earth his refuge made.
Plain homely roofs, and vulgar habitations
Have no extraordinary alterations,
When Kingdoms totter, on their craz'd foundations
Fortune doth flie with an uncertain wing,
And none can boast he hath her in a string.
He who redeemed from eternall night
Again enjoyes the comfort of the light,
Now weepeth his return from Hell, and here
Meeteth a greater cause of grief than there.
Pallas, whom we to reverence are bound
That
Theseus free'd from the
Stygian sound
Again reveiws the Heav'ns;
[...] Virgin thou
Art not beholding 4 to thy U
[...]cle now:
The greedy Tyrant hath his number still.
What voice of weepings this? what bloody Scene
With a drawn sword prepares the frantick Queen.
Finis Actus Quinti.
Actus Quintus.
- Theseus,
- Phaedra,
- Chorus,
- Servants.
Th.
WHat fury doth possess thee? why this sword
Wherefore about a body so abhor'd
Are these complaints and tears?
Ph.
On me, on me
Pour forth thy wrath hard hearted Deitie;
On me let loose thy Monsters, whatsoere
Tethys doth in her hidden bosome bear:
Whatever do in farthest Seas remain
Embrac'd by the unstable Ocean.
Oh
Theseus ever fatall to thine own!
Now thy returne thy Father, and thy 1 Son,
Have purchas'd with their lives; still thou thy house
Destroy'st with Love or hatred of thy 2 Spouse;
[Page 45]Oh my
Hippolitus, and doe I view
Thee thus? and must I be the Author too?
What 3
Scinis, what 4
Procrustes, what new kind
O
[...] 5 double-visag'd
Cretan bulls, confin'd
[...] 6
Daedalian Labyrinths, scattered
T
[...]y li
[...]bs? Oh! whither is thy beauty fled?
[...] those eyes my stars! what, dead? Oh stay,
A while, and hear me what I have to say.
My language shall be chast; this sword shall thee
Into my bosome stab'd, revenge of me,
And death shall make me be
Phaedra no more,
As my impiety did once before;
Then will I follow thee through all the streams
Of Hel, through
Styx, and channels fil'd with flams,
Let me appease thy Ghost, here 7 take this hair,
Which thus from the disordered sleece I tear.
Though in our wills unequall, we may try
An equall fate; if chaste, to
Theseus dye:
If not, unto thy love; what shall I climbe
My Husbands bed defil'd by such a crime?
Or was this sin undone, only that I,
The abused Vindicator should enjoy
Of an unviolated Chastity?
O Death, the only cure of Love, who best
A broken Modesty recementest
To thee I fly: open thy quiet brest.
Athenians hear, and thou a Father worse
Than I a Stepdame, what I did rehearse
Was false and wicked; forg'd in my distracted
Bosome: thou'st punished; a sinne unacted.
[Page 46]By my incestuous guilt, guiltlesse and chast
He fel, now thy deserved praise thou hast.
This sword shall pierce my impious brest, and bring
My bloud to thy wrong'd Ghost an offering.
What thou shouldst doe now thou hast lost thy son,
Learn of a Step-dame: Flie to 8
Acheron.
The.
You dark jaws of 9
Avernus, and you caves
Of 10
Tenarus▪ with you forgetfull waves
Of 11
Lethe, gratefull to the wretched, you
[...] lakes assist to o
[...]erwhelm me too;
Load me with everlasting plagues, come now
You monsters of the deep; whatever thou,
12
Proteus hast hidden in the utmost wombe
Of the Ocean, and ev'n that
[...]cean come,
And me glorying in such a crime convey
To the dark bo
[...]ome of the profound sea.
And thou too prone a Father to my wrath,
Now I deserve to dye, by a strange death;
I have dispers'd my Son, and while afraid
To leave a false offence unpunished,
Acted a true; what fourth lot can I try?
13 Heaven, Hell, the sea by my Impietie
Are fill'd, already in each portion known
Am I: Was my returne for this alone?
The way to light unstopt to shew me these
Sad and ingeminated obsequies?
Widdow'd and childles I that might at once
Kindle two fun'rall piles, my wives and sons?
O thou to whom this dismal light I ow,
Return me back unto those shades below.
[Page 47]But, Impious, I doe now in vaine preferre
Forsaken death; cruell Artificer,
Who findest out new waies of bloud, and death,
Now finde a curse thy sin which equalleth.
Pines humbled to the earth by force, at their
Release, my body shall in peeces teare,
Or I will jump from
Scyrons rocks. I've seen
Worse judgements, what their sufferings have been
Girt with a mote of fire. I know what paines,
And future mansion for my self remaines.
Make roome you sinfull Ghosts; thy endlesse toile
Upon these shoulders lay, and rest the while
Faint 14
Sicyphus: let that false river slip,
When almost caught from this deluded lip.
Let 15
Tityus vulture leave him, and for food
Prey on my Liver still, to paine renew'd.
Rest my
Pirithons Father, while I, bound
Unto thy Wheele, keep the perpetuall round.
Gape Earth, receive me Hell, receive me: this
A juster voyage for me thither is;
My Son I follow: fear not thou, who sway'st
That Ghostly Empire; my intent is chast.
In thy Aeternall house receive me then,
Now never to escape from thence agen▪
The Gods are not so much as mov'd with prayer;
But when I aske a crime, how quick they are!
Cho.
Now pay the rites of fun'rall, and mourne,
These limbes you see so misrably torne;
You will have time enough to weep.
The.
O bear
Hither those reliques I esteeme so deare.
[Page 48]Give me that burthen, and those limbs, but too
Irreverently gathered by you.
Art thou
Hippolitus? thou art, the deed
I doe confess, and I thy Parricide,
Least I should sin but once, and that alone,
Did call m
[...] Father when I slew my Son.
See his Paternall Legacy. O rage
Which thus unp
[...]oppest my declining age!
Let me embrace these limbs, and what is yet
Remaining in my bosome cherish it;
Joyn these dissected members and digest
Those parts in order which be thus displac'd,
Here put his right hand, here his left, once skill'd
In moderating of those reins it held.
This mark in his left-side, I know how great
A part have I to weep unfound as yet.
Hold out my trembling hands, and you restrain
My thirsty cheeks your ample showrs of rain,
While to my Son I count his limbes, and mold
His body new. This peece no shape doth hold
At all, with wounds so mangled 'tis unknown
What part it is, but sure I am 'tis one.
Here in this void, although not proper place
It shall be laid: Is this that Heavenly face
Humbled a Stepdames p
[...]ide? that Beauty come
To this? O Gods how cruell is your doom!
Oh bloody fury! to thy Father thus
Com'st thou, and by my wish
Hippolitus?
Here take my
Sires last gift that I should bear
Thee oft; mean while wee'l burn these members here
[Page 94]Open the morning Court, and with loud cryes
Let all the Town the fun'rall solemnize.
Look you to th'Royall Pile; search you about
The Fields to find what yet is wanting out,
Give her the buriall of a ditch, where laid,
May earth lye 17 heavie on her Impious head.
Exeunt.
FINIS.
DIVERSE SELECT POEMS.
On an old ill-favoured Woman, become a young Lover.
LOve me! Heaven bless me. Hadst thou told me all
The common miseries, which can befall
A man, to make him wretched; I had met
Them, and embrac'd them with a youthfull heat,
Rather then heard thee talke of Love; this newes
Is worse then all the plagues the Gods can us,
To punish blacke offenders with; to thee
Want and continuall sickesse, blessings be.
Sure thou dost now like beggars, who to crave
Take a delight, though they may nothing have:
For I can nere beleeve, thou canst acquaint
Thy hopes, with expectation of a graunt.
Be thine owne Judge, or call thy partiall glasse
To witness; canst thou finde in all that Masse
[Page 62]Of monstrous ugliness, one peece that can
Render thee fit for the most sinful man,
If all the rest were answerable? no,
Thou may'st securely boast that none can show
So full a harmony, no part of thine
Can at his fellows richer form repine,
Nor can they for Supremacie contest,
When ev'ry part is worst, and none is best.
Some, when
Pandora's boxe was op'ned doubt,
That thou wert all those plagus which thronged out.
And most agree, as ev'ry gen'rous God
A sev'rall ornament on her bestow'd,
The sportive Deities have giv'n to thee
Each a particular deformity;
Iove gave thee an imperious mind; his Queen
Made thee a scold, and gave thee tongue and spleen:
Sol tan'd thy skin.
Iris did paint thy face:
Hermes taught theft:
Saturn gave length of dayes,
God
Momus gave thee a repining soul:
Phoebe to keep thee chaste, hath made thee foul;
Yet (it seems)
Venus whom thou dost adore,
Enrag'd at that hath made thy will a whore;
And
Mulciber, who would not be behind
His courteous wife, gave thee a halting mind.
But by what chance into the world thou fell
None can conceive under a miracle.
Thy Mother (hadst thou had one) at thy birth
Had frantick run as soon as brought thee forth:
The trembling Mid wife from her shaking hands
Had let thee fall, killd in thy swathing bands.
[Page 63]The timely zeale else of the standers by
Had rid the world of such a Prodigy;
Or had'st thou, by their feare from present death
A while preserv'd, drawn a contemned breath,
None would have fatherd thee, nor had'st thou bin
Esteem'd the lawlesse progeny of sinne,
And of the people. Spurnd from each ones blood
Thou so had'st perished for want of food.
But thou'rt no humane seed, thy shapelesse age
Allowes thee not of mortall Parentage.
Yet 'twould almost perswade me to beleeve
That (if thou be a woman) thou art
Eve:
Onely I think man might have stood till now,
If
Eve had been no hansomer than thou;
For 'tis not time or age could change thee thus;
Thou wert by Nature made so leperous.
I rather think
Iove did himselfe transforme
To woe the Earth, and got thee in a storme;
Or else some grave▪ fruitfull with dead mens bones,
Hath teem'd the off-spring of her Skeletons.
Thou art of such a dirty mol'd; a thing,
Already so like earth, the grave can bring,
No change to thy complexion. I dare sweare,
The Wormes would scorn to touch thee wert thou there.
Thou'rt a meer
Chaos, which I am content
To grant that nature for a Woman meant;
But either she forgot, or else her store
Enriching other Beauties, made thee poore,
And of necessity she left thee thus;
Some parts defective, some superfluous,
[Page 64]And others so misplac'd, Poets would sweare,
Iove got thee on
Calisto when a Beare;
And that the suddennesse of her translation,
Gave her no time to lick thee into fashion;
And I am halfe perswaded, thou dodst hope,
Some wealthy dowry from the skies should drop:
For if thou wilt be marry'd, thou hast neede,
To have a heav'nly Marriage-good indeede;
No temp'rall blessings ever were of force,
To countervaile so horrible a curse.
What madman dost thou thinke would give consent
To cast himself away for thy content.
Why this is worse. So would one death suffice;
Thus, never dead, continually he dy
[...]s.
For when thou opes thy sore, and dost relate,
Like a curst shrew the rigour of thy fate,
Telling what slames are in thy bosom bred,
A Feaver entertaines him in his bed:
If thy wan lookes for pitty seem to call,
Into a deep consumption he doth fall;
And when thy lab'ring eyes bring forth a floud
Of gore, for teares, he gets the flixe of bloud:
When thy rude cough doth shake each aged limbe,
An Ague, or the Palsie shaketh him.
Then if from thy pale Lips he drink a kiss,
Without an Antidote he poyson'd is;
But if he doe the Act, he doth mistrust,
He's damb'd for dealing with a Succubus;
Besides 'tis odds that he the
[...]—doth get,
Although thou have them not with meere conceit;
[Page 65]And for the Plague, there's none will doubt, but he
In a full measure hath it, who hath thee.
Now if thou knowest any man, who pleases
To marry such a portion of diseases,
Take him, for I'le be sworn, if e're I doe it
The certainty of Heav'n must woe me to it.
What should I doe with thee; unless that I
Durst shew thee somewhere to get money by?
And then I doe beleeve, thy tongue might come
To save me the expences of a drum;
But when they had so foule a Monster view'd,
Who must appease the frighted multitude?
What must I doe, when ev'ry Clowne shall sweare,
I rai
[...]e the Div'l, and am a Conjurer?
When by my suff'rings cheated, I shall neede
Perswade my selfe, that it is so indeede:
Confess the accusation true, and tell
The Judge, thou art not onely the Dev'l, but Hell
Durst they looke on, in truth 'twere pretty sport
To see thy cheeks enameled with dirt,
And yellow, when thy hollow eyes in red.
And white, are gorgeously apparelled;
Never Envy
Tysiphone; thy haire
May with the
Gorgons snaggy locks compare,
And can (for ought I know) change men to ston
[...] ▪
I ne're durst look what colour it was on:
Thy long and beaked nose, offended with
The neighbourhood of such a tainted
[...]reath,
Doth drop into thy mouth; belike a Rhewme
So salt might season it, though not perfume:
[Page 66]Thy teeth (too weak a guard) for to oppose
The constant motion of thy tongue (God knowes)
All in griefes Liv'ry black, as if they mournd
For their departed Fellowes, are adorn'd.
Then thy hulch backe, splay foot, and beetle browes
I passe, almost afraid to think of those;
Nor dare I speak thy name, no more than once
The Jewes durst doe their Tetragrammatons.
All generally is nought, for though there be
Some few things, which are simply good in thee;
Yet those blind Pearles, those bloud-shot rubies in
Thine eyes, that golden Ore upon thy skin;
Thy sable teeth made of unpolish'd jet,
Are all like jewels in a Dunghill set:
And I to pitty thee shall be inclind,
Give me these gems, the dunghill left behind.
An Ale-match.
NOw are they set; by this time is the round
Begun, and their ambitious cups are crownd;
The health is nam'd the Kings, for the like good
Subjects thought that would breed the purest bloud:
'Twas a shrewd argument they should be maim'd,
When the first blow thus at the head was aim'd.
Nothing too much for's Majesty they thought;
Nor could their loves be limm'd in a small draught,
They were resolv'd to burne the stream of Fate,
And with whole pots, cement his broken state.
A deluge the old sinfull world did cleanse,
And they (by like) tri'd that authentique means.
But with a different successe, for then
Th' offended Gods destroy'd both beasts and men.
When this prepostrous floud of theirs opprest
Only the man, and multipli'd the beast.
Thus having rear'd the Standard of the King
They shortly after fell to mustering.
And first unto this desp'rate service presse▪
Like carefull Souldiers, their own Mistresses.
I doe beleeve they had a plot, to prove
Whether worse drunkards made
Bacchus or
Love.
But now they found, consulting on the case,
Women were nothing if without their glasse.
[Page 68]So is their copie changed, and they took
A harder volume, but a lesser book.
I know not what temptation might be i'nt,
But sure they spoild their eies with the small print.
Often they read it, nor a time could find
To leave, till seeing double made them blind
'Twas wonderfull to see the Virgins Mothers:
Their pregnant healths delivered of others.
Fruition's the first born, they cannot scape
But their unbridled fancies act a rape.
Sure they were bashfull, or the Ladies coy,
That only in their drink they could enjoy.
Now their conceits are swell'd, and they will give
No credit unto Poets, but beleeve
Iove courted the
Acrysian maid of old,
In showrs of Nectar, rather then of Gold.
They'r bold to thinke
Daphne had never shrunke
The Love-sick God had he bin half so drunke
With any gen'rous liquor, as with pride,
He was before, or Love when her he spide.
Had lack'd a tree till now; the Virgin had
The guerdion not of wit, but drink bin made.
The next is to
love me, but in that case,
Who could, beyond my understanding was
Nor was I much inquisitive, I know
What they did drink, no matter then to who.
Besides, 'twas plain, who could affect such strange
Creatures as they, were then must needs love change
[Page 69]Well they goe round in riddles, every pot
Was woven now into a Gordian knot,
Which they like the great Conquerour divide,
And never look how they should be untide.
Nor can they thinke but he was sharpned well,
When this prompt sword fulfill'd the Oracle,
And so, after his
Asian conquests, shew'd
In being drunke a peece of gratitude.
By this time the aspiring juyce doth fume
Into their brains, and they condemn the room,
With those internall vapours almost choak'd
They aske the reason why the chamber smok'd.
The helpless windows, and the door in vain
By turns are shut, and opened again.
The remedy was nearer, had each one
Clos'd but his mouth a while it had been gone.
But they would lose no time, and now you'd think
Their flaming eyes had suck'd those seas of drink;
For big with light, they seem'd so many Suns
Their faint light dimn'd with exhalations.
Now are they scatter'd, every one now chooses
Another station which he straight refuses,
And so the third; their restless bodies walking,
Like the
Egyptians in the darknes stalking.
Yet as a Lover from his Mistris forc'd
(By order of the dance a while divorc'd)
Moves slowly, and his speaking eie forbears
To guide his feet, and kindly follows hers;
[Page 70]But then again with winged speed doth take
That hand he was constrained to forsake.
So they divided by the envious fume,
Doe sadly wander up and down the room
But summon'd by some friendly name, fly hither
And jointly celebrate the health together;
At last these grosser vapours are disperst
And quit those parts they troubled at the first;
Yet the more subile spirits still remain
Working insensibly upon the brain.
Encourag'd thus they re-inforce the fight,
And the room cleer'd, they cleer the table straight;
And for the suddainer dispatch, they by
A quaint device, encrease the company;
Three multiply to six, while ev'ry one
Is by two adversaries set upon:
Now this, and now the other they assault
Like skillfull Beagles, never at a fault;
But still who endeth doth again begin,
Their cups dancing a perfect Mattachin.
They barr all tedious Lectures; 'tis decreed
That there they only fluent stiles should read,
And without pausing if a peece of cake
Did not by chance a breathing Comma make,
While 'twas a chewing; for Tobacco is
No point of drinke, but a Parenthesis.
But now at length they to a full one come,
Each man resolving on a voyage home.
[Page 67]They pay their reckoning, yet it seems they staid
(As by the sequel prov'd) till they were paid.
Still there remain'd for every man a pot,
Which they like Foulers ram down after th'shot.
Now these mingled with half a pint of sack
A prettie peece of Conjuration make;
Tis all divided into three times three,
And each glasse loaden with a family,
Which having swallow'd once, you might have seen 'um
Quite altered; their homes were now within 'um
They talk no more of parting now, but call
For a fresh bale of pots, and roundly fall
To their old game, I thinke 'twas
In and
In
For they could find no passage out agen.
The room was now a Conjurers Circle, and
The pots and Pipes for Mystick figures stand;
To one another they Magicians were,
And their discourses charms to keep them there.
Marry their Host must be the Devill, for he
Was truly glad of their Impitie,
And most officious in his malice lends 'em
A boy-like
Mephostophiles to attend 'em
Whom they keep in perpetuall motion, still
Emploid either to empty, or to fill.
For now they'd brought their bodies to that pass
That they like Mountebanks with ev'ry glass
Run themselvs through: they look'd like unbreech'd guns
A scowring, whence the tainted water runs
[Page 68]In the same quantity, and doth not wast
A jot, tho chang'd in colour, and in tast;
Cut into humane figures, I have seen
Some water-works have very like them been:
So were the
Belials tubs, nor they in Hell
Ere met with vessels more insatiable;
And sure the Poets meant that they were ty'd
To give a drunkard drink, till he deny'd.
I could not chuse but smile at the old Fable
How
Her
[...]ules did cleanse
Augeas Stable;
Me thought with that, and them, as the case stood
There was a kind of a similitude.
You've have heard of the fam'd river that pursues
With eager streams the flying
Arethuse,
And grown impatient of the sad divorce
Doth under Earth and Seas a passage force
Till she at length is caught, and the fight done,
Their frindly waters in one channell run;
Take any two of them, and the whole chase
Most excellencly represented was.
Of
Xerxes Armie, Histories relate
How they dranke up whole Rivers at a bait,
An easie matter for all them to doe;
But who by drinking ere created new?
Had but the fire in
Tower-street hapned there,
And they bin peece-meal blown into the air,
They had gone nigh to quench it; for an hour
At least, their drink would have maintain'd a show
[...] ▪
[Page 69]Mine Host hearing them call for it so fast
Came up in a great feare himselfe at last,
And seeing all was well, again retir'd;
For he beleev'd the chamber had been fir'd.
By this time they had made more Ale away
Than would have serv'd
Faustus to's load of hay:
'Twould have struck all the gifted Brethren dumb
And taught the Bishops how to silence 'um.
Yet still their feav'rish appetites encrease
The more they drink, they'r satisfy'd the lesse.
I'
[...]e undertake, had but the Fens been such,
They would have drain'd them better than the
Dutch.
Ten more of their own humour, and in one
Halfe year the Navy would be uselesse grown;
The King (God bless him) could no shipping lack,
The narrow Seas they fordable would make;
And think it nothing too. They three had Seas
Within them, farre more dangerous than these:
So rough, the Pilot, Reason could nor steere,
But he himselfe did suffer shipwrack there:
They'd made a perfect Microcosme of man;
Their bladders were the Midland Ocean;
Their bellies the
Aegaean Sea, the whiles
Their floting entrailes seeme the thick-set Isles:
Their troubled brests the
Adriatick, and
Their mote hearts like Sea-girt
Venice stand.
Or if you will ascend more high, their brain
Swims like the frozen Sea dissol'd again:
[Page 70]And their benighted understandings looke
Like
Green Land men by winter overtook.
Yet some who saw them thus diguised, say,
They were all a meere
Terr' incognita;
Nor without cause; well might they be unknown
To them, who to themselves were strangers grown.
Had they been cat
[...]chized then 'tis thought
That the first question would have put them out;
For any thing they of their own Names knew
The Minister might have baptiz'd them new.
They talk'd like men asleepe, of this and that,
And whilst a speaking oft, forgot of what:
The rest bound up in frost you would have thought,
And the next thaw come to have heard it out.
It would have run a good
Gramarian mad,
To tell how many parts of speech they had,
The Noise at
Babel was each whit as good,
And I beleeve, farre better understood.
For they had a confusion too, and worse
Than that of tongues, of th' Intellective Powers.
In language they were
English all, but than
In understandings all Ebrician.
What is't a clock? sayes one, another cries,
You're in the right; with all my heart replies
The third; all answ'ring so farre from the matter
That mortar brought instead of brick was batter.
Yet all this while, they drink, and sometimes take,
A whole pot meerely, for variety sake.
[Page 71]A whole pot meerly for vari'ty sake.
The Boy calls up his Master, and he swears
That they are Papists all, and now at prayers;
He thinkes their great and lesser Cups are strung
In order, 'stead of Beads, upon their tongue:
He fancies an
Ave Mary in each glass,
And ev'ry pot a
Pat
[...]r Noster was.
But now both pots and glasses they forbore,
Their treach'rous heads (alas) would bear no more,
But droop like Tulips overcharg'd with wet,
The sleepy Poppy, or the Violet;
Yet so much sense even now in them remaines,
They break the Weapons that had crack'd their brains.
Now they sit still, and not a word doth pass,
Like the Disciples of
Pythagoras.
To do their Mother-tongue a peece of right
Their tongues that clip'd it now were silent quite.
Mine Host aware of this dumb show doth bring
Vp in an Antimasque the reckoning,
In which I doe beleeve (were the truth known)
He oft saw double and told two for one;
But when he drew it, he did much mislike
The fallacy of that Arithmetique.
Well, they discharge him, or to say more true
He first discharg'd himself, and then them too;
For all this while they sate like stocks; the Room,
It self a quicker motion did assume:
[Page 72]For that ran like the Heavens Circular,
And them we might to the fixt Stars compare
When they sate still, or reeling too and fro
Their doubtfull legges like the Errata goe;
And stand for Hieroglyphicks of the Sunn's
Strange course, that goes so many wayes at once.
But now I at a
ne plus ultra am,
Nor know I how they to their lodgings came;
For when they thought of going, then their feet,
To speak the truth, had clean forgotten it.
On a Talkative, and Stammering Fellow.
THou thine own Pillory, who for thy eares
Dost crop thy tongue, and talk'st in Characters;
Who words epitomizest, and canst tell
How to divide a Monosyllable;
Thou that dost quavers speak, and such as are
But evill Language, and worse Musique farre,
So that thy pleasant Auditors oft make
Wagers, thou learnedst of an Owl to speak,
Or else that Nature when thou wert but young;
Ty'd a perpetuall Ague to thy tongue.
[Page 73]How Mountain like thou labour'st to give birth
Either to Nonsense, or bring nothing forth?
In troth I can but pitty thee that dost
Endure such throwes for thy tongues female lust;
And wish thy mouth had been so Cannon bor'd,
Thou should'st not need a Midwife for each word
Rather than undergoe the grievous pains
That wait on such a costive utterance,
I would advise thee purge, and aptly vent
It backwarks, Excrement with Excrement;
Or with thy Pincers pluck thy teeth that doe
So ravenously bite thy words in two.
I'd scorn to eat a Morsel with those base
Grinders that hinder'd me from saying Grace;
Would give a generall defie to meat,
Ere mine own words so like a Coward eat.
Thou chew'st them so, they stick forth' most part twixt
Thy teeth, and we must stay till them thou pick'st.
When thorough that blind maze of signes and sound,
Which so do the intelligence confound,
They should conduct us to thy meaning, thou
In th'middle of the lab'rinth breakst the Clew.
As 'tis, thy tongue is fit for nothing else
But to pronounce the Devil's Oracles,
And 'twould for that be excellent, all the skil
Being to leave the meaning doubtfull still,
For which thy canting speech is made so fit,
'Twould pose the Devill himself t'interpret it.
[Page 74]It sounds like the tongues Chaos, that same rude
Matter that did all Languages include
Ere words received form, when there was neither
French, Dutch or
English, but all heap'd together.
Nature in thee did overact her part,
And so struck dumb her Adversary Art.
Let others boast their Mother Tongue, but she
Hath giv'n the Mother of all tongues to thee.
Thy speech is much like Bullion that's made fit
For any stamp, but hath receiv'd none yet:
Though't may to each particular relate,
'Tis when thou speak'st it neither this nor that;
But being coined by thy hearers eares,
To ev'ry Countrey man his own appeares,
As if (not to doe th' Holy Ghost that wrong)
He with the cloven foot had cleft thy tongue.
'Tis heathen language, neither circumcis'd
After th' old Law, nor after th' new baptiz'd;
Hath neither mark whereby it may be known,
Nor so much as denomination.
'Tis thought thy Ancestors did fetch their rise
From th'time that words were into Colonies
Divided, and did band themselves together
In sev'rall tongues as birds do of a feather;
When men by their example did disperse
Plantations thorough the whole Vniverse,
Then thy Forefathers did directly fall
Vnder no one, but border'd upon all,
Hence 'tis that one did thy discourse extoll,
[Page 75]And styled it, the Vniversall soule
Of Language, as being mingled with that art
'Twas All in All, and All in every part.
Hence 'tis thou talk'st such Linsey-Woolsy, and
Dost in one word make rodes into each Land,
While ev'ry syllable in th' utt'rance fights
For thus invading one anothers Rights,
And Nature to preserve the publique quiet,
Them with the Stocks doth punish for their riot.
Thy tongue (and not unwittily perhaps)
One likened to th' Almesbasket filld with scraps,
It feeds our ears with mix'd and broken words,
Iust like the poor with bits from sev'rall boards.
Swi
[...]ter than thought it runneth through each Clime,
Visits all Nations in a point of time,
And whence the greater miracle doth rise
Although so great a trav'ler never lyes.
But since mens eares are not so given to roame,
'Twere better that thy tongue too stay'd at home:
For as the palate cann't distinguish 'twixt
The sev'rall tasts of liquours that are mixt;
No more our eares while thou retain'st a spice
Of ev'ry tongue can know thy various voice.
A suite made up of patterns were both fit
To emblemise thy speech, and cloth thy wit;
'Tis like an over busie servant▪ who
With too much hast his errand doth outgoe;
Bels jangled without order, or a Clock
[Page 76]That strikes at random might be thought to mock
Thee; methinks ev'ry word thou dost pronounce
Sounds as sev'n Dev'ls spoke in thee at once.
Had
Noahs Ark upon some Rock been split,
When all the Living were embark'd in it,
Those many strange, and disagreeing cryes,
Could not have made a more confused noise.
I oft have walk'd th' Exchange, and must confess
The Buzz of all that concourse was both lesse,
And lesse perplexed, better than thee I cou'd
What every man said there have understood.
What a learn'd Di'logue would betwixt you pass
Hadst thou like
Bala'm but a speaking Asse?
Thou hast so rugged and so wilde a phrase
'Tis like a Book stuft witb
Et caeteras,
Which the Press up in cunning knots doth tye,
And yet dissolv'd just nothing signifie.
Wert thou but musically giv'n, by thee
How rarely
Barnaby would chanted be,
When as the Drunkard might take all along,
His reeling measures from thy stagg'ring tongue?
I wonder thou wilt give a beast the head
So much, and know'st it such a stumbling jade.
Alas consider that men use to stay
And rest awhile, who travail a rough way.
For mine own part, I'm willing to apply
My self to th' study of Cheirology,
And talk with thee by signes, so thoul't command
Thy tongue give place to th' Rhet'rick of thy hand;
But thou'rt (I doubt) too greedily inclin'd
[Page 77]To quit so many trades 't expresse thy mind;
Besides 'tis naturall to thy disease,
Neither to let men speak nor hold their peace.
And (a plague take thee) speech he little needs,
Who is so plainly spoken by his deeds.
Vpon Lucretia▪
NOw the chast Matron being left alone,
Had leasure to consider what was done;
And though the sinfull act committed were
Against her wil, she could not chuse but fear
Th' uncertaine voice of Fame, which doth but prize
Suspected vertue as apparent vice.
Then melting into tears, O Gods! saith she,
Is this the best reward for Chastity?
Or do you hate that vertue, that we must
Be forced when we will not yield, to Lust?
What balm, what comfort have you to asswage
My furious forrow? miserable age!
When most doe willingly this sin commit;
And such as would cannot live free from it.
Then did she wring her hands, and tear her hair,
Sighing her body almost into ayr;
So true a grief had been enough to make
Her innocent, although she did partake
Of
Tarquin's guilt. But now at length she dries
Those wealthy pearls from her o'rcharged eyes,
And with a calmer look, these teares, saith she,
[Page 79]Are booteless; Childish sorrow cannot free
Me from mens censures: Something must be done
To expiate his crime, lest thought mine own.
There did she stay awhile, and with her eyes
Cast down, as studying on her enterprise,
By chance she did the Tyrants Ponyard find,
Which he at his departure le
[...]t behind.
She took it up, and a sad smile did show
Her joy for her approaching overthrow.
Yet will I triumph over shame, and by
My death (quoth she) confirm my Chastity;
And thou polluted steel, which once didst
[...]orce
Me to the breach of wedlock, shalt divorce
Me now for ever; then she said no more,
But acting what she had resolv'd before,
Drove the continu'd wound unto her heart,
The noble Spirit hastned to depart;
Perhaps it was affraid it might defile
It selfe by staying with that Flesh awhile.
The Power of Love▪
POets made the a God, and Love, if thou
Be Deify'd, make me a Poet now;
Then will I sing thy praises, and reherse
Thy feared name th'rough the wide Vniverse;
Some faithful grove, where no close spy discovers
The strict embraces of enjoying Lovers,
[Page 79]Shall be thy Temple, hallow'd by my prayers.
The cheerfull Birds shall be the Choristers,
A Poet shall be Priest, and I will bring
My wounded heart to be the offering;
My body shall be th' Altar, and mine eyes
Shall feed the slame that burns the Sacrifice.
Then in thy powerfull name I will all jars
Compose, and once more free the Earth from wars.
Beasts hunting after prey shall then grow tame,
Arrested by the accents of thy name;
The Lyon then shall kisse the Lamb, and keep
Him harmless, while the Wolf defends the sheep;
The Bear and Dog be friends; the Crocadile
Shall weep no more when as he would beguile;
The
Si
[...]ens tempting voice shal then have power
Onely to calm the waves, not to devoure,
And ravish'd with the tune the rising Seas
Shall dance for joy, not gape for carkasses.
The Turtles shall leave off their courtship, and
As listning to the musick silent stand,
But at the close of ev'ry melting strain,
Approving what they hear, shall Bill again.
The Virgin Phoenix shall beleeve a Mate
A fitter means than death to propagate;
The Nightingale shall change her note, & mourn
No longer for her Rape, but for her scorn;
The Loving Pelican shall spend her blood
More freely to preserve her Mate than Brood;
The Salamander feel a hotter fire:
The Gennet shall not have the Wind his fire.
[Page 80]Rivers to kisse th'embracing banks shall stay,
Till forced by the upper streams away,
And then with a sad murmure forward creep
As loth to intermingle with the deep.
All Trees shall grow like Palmes, by two and two,
And fade at once as they together grew;
None shall be barren, all (thus match'd) shall bear
Some gratefull issue to the kindly year.
Stil with fresh Verdure shall the Earth be clad,
And yield encrease for what she never had,
Scorning by her spruce Lover to be found
At any time with wither'd Chaplets crown'd.
Children, whose tender age as yet affords
Them but the Liberty of half-clip'd words,
Shall learn the Dialect of Love, and break
Their mindes by acting what they cannot speak;
While forty Ecchoes (who have onely tongue
For that,) shall bear the burthen of my song,
And taking it from one another bear
Thy praises thorough either Hemisphaere,
Till the whole Earth with joinct consent approve
All things are subject to the power of Love.
The new Niobe.
MErcy great Love, and hence I'l swear
My self a vassall to thy Shrine,
And ev'n when th' art raging here
My verse shall speak that rage divine,
Though my insufferable smart
Perswades me thou a Fury art,
So thou'lt but cast one other dart.
Why should she still unmoved stand,
And set at nought thy power and thee,
Defying thy dead-doing hand;
Her language than her soul more free?
While thou her prophanations heares,
And, as if thou had'st
[...]ost thy eares
As well as eyes, to strike forbeares?
What was my over-active crime?
What Blasphemies have I ere spoke,
Which could to Heav'n so nimbly clime,
And your quick Fury thence provoke?
Perhaps I call'd thee boy, and blind;
Scorn'd Love, doth not she bear that minde?
Why then in punishment not joyn'd?
Are Women privileg'd alone
Securely to do ill? or can
[Page 82]One trespas be less monstrous grown
In Woman than it is in Man?
No, no, I see that thou hast sworn
We both shall pay the price of scorn
With diff'rent passions overborn.
Yet am I us'd no worse by thee
Than the great ruler of the day;
I Love a Stone, and he a Tree;
Shee by her prayers became a Bay,
And mine like
Niobe is grown
By often weeping to a Ston,
But chang'd by my tears not her own.
Love, thou art just, and tis but fit
She should into a Statue Freeze,
Who in her self the hopes of it
Destroys, as well as she
[...]at sees
Her ofspring, which she glories in
Slaine by her pride; but for that sin
A Mother too she might have been.
Gaine in Losse
AWay, fond Boy away,
What tempts thee for to stay
Hov'ring about my brest?
Thou canst not hope to sway
Whereas disdaines possest
With such an interest.
And Honour'l not alow
That thou should'st lower bow,
When daily Conquests post
Afresh to Crown thy Brow,
And every shaft almost
A heart or two can boast.
Yet if thou entr'st here,
By thine own power I swear,
All glory thou must quit;
No Bow nor Quiver bear,
But unto Scorn submit
Thy self an Anchorite.
Thus spake
Almanna, and
Cupid smil'd
To think how much she was beguil'd,
Then shot, but spite of all his art
His blow the little Archer spoil'd:
Out flew the Golden-headed dart,
But could not pierce her armed heart.
Almanna laugh'd, and the God cry'd
With fear of whipping terrfii'd,
And grieved for his broken Bow;
No hope of comfort he espi'd,
So that his tears, which seem'd to flow,
If not then blind had made him so.
Another such he would have bought,
But there was none, and if without
[Page 84]He went, or this should broken bring
Venus would know, that very thought
Fresh flouds from the poor boy did wring
Lest she should whip him with the string.
But th'Virgin not of Marble made
All means to comfort him assay'd,
And oft his blubber'd cheeks did dry.
At last, with pitty overswai'd,
She promis'd him that he should lie
Among'st the Babyes of her eye.
There he the beams of those bright Twins,
With which all hearts, all eyes he wins,
Hath both for Bow and Arrowes found,
And nothing now to think begins,
Since his own shafts did once rebound,
But selfe-love can
Almanna wound.
The perfect Love.
VVHy should I hold my peace & silent be
when my life lies on the discovery?
Besides I know, infallibly I know
That thus a worser fate attends on me
Than beasts, for I unto the Altar goe
And fall a sacrifice none knowes to who.
All other things with time and age receive
That full perfection Nature could not give
Them at the first, when only wretched I
Am the sole prodigy, and downward thrive,
Doe grow into my grave, and (tongue-ti'd) die
A very'r child than in mine infancy.
Before I could have spoken sure I cou'd
Have made a shrewd shift to be understood,
When now I stand like one with lightning strook,
And almost starv'd cannot make signs for food,
Only my wants are writ in a sad look,
Which for the rich is but too hard a book.
At first I could have prattl'd, and have sed
What ever my affection dictated;
Talk'd a far off of love, and
Hymen, prais'd
The Marriage, and condemn'd the single Bed:
Extol'd that Beauty she her self debas'd,
And sworn the new-made Heav'ns not fairer fac'd.
How oft I then have took, and gently strain'd
A fragrant balm out of her melting hand,
And cherish'd it in that strict fellowship
VVith mine, her envious Glove could not withstand,
But my expiring Soul hung on my lip
Would that rich Nectar up in kisses sip!
How have I then feasted my greedy eyes
VVith the survey of that brave AEdifice;
Examin'd the dimensions of my heart
To know if it were able to comprise
VVhat I beheld; admir'd the state, and art,
And lost my self with wonder in each part
Then with a blush, or sigh I could have shown
How much I wish'd the fabrick were mine own;
And she no question understood me too.
But now what a strange Lover am I grown,
Who can't so much as wish ('tis strang, but true)
Her ty'd to one so'unworthy of her view?
O Miracle of Love! or let me be
A lover of my self as well as she,
Or let this bright and immateriall fire
Consume this dross, which thus depresses me,
And so render me worthy my desire;
Or let me quickly in the flame expire.
To a Lady working a Bed with Crewell
The Murther.
MAdam, why should you thus mispend an honre?
Leave this uncharitable work,
[Page 87]Vnder the shaddow of each new-made flower
There will a speckled Serpent lurk,
Which (though they hurt not you) wil us devour,
Alas how many too advent'rous hearts
Will perish by their hidden stings?
One touch, one look, is worse than forty darts,
And far more speedy ruine brings:
A curse on them taught Beauty such black Arts.
What may we think your serious exercise,
If murther be your recreation?
Sure on the universe you then devise
To bring a totall desolation,
And fire the World with your consuming eyes.
I say you might more noble pastimes find
For to beguile the lazy time;
You answer▪ Thrift on this had set your mind,
Iudging such sports indeed a crime;
But sure such thrift's to narrow'r Souls confin'd.
Ah! cruell Wanton! now your craft I spy,
Your riddle now is understood,
That you are covetous I'l not deny,
But it is covetous of Blood,
And you are saving that you may destroy.
Now when this guilty peece shall reared be,
The Trophey of your Martyr'd Slaves,
[Page 88]It shall be stil'd by all that do it see,
Since fruitful with so many graves,
Not Crewell Bed, but bed of Cruelty.
The Revenge.
THen let soft slumbers o'r your eyelids creep,
When your disquiet fancy spyes
Men shipwrack'd in those Seas they Bleed, and Weep;
Heares lulabyes compos'd of cryes,
And horror rocks your quaking limbs asleep.
And sure as death If I be one that fall,
(As much I doubt my froward Stars)
Let the slain Lovers make me Generall
I'l find a means to heal their scarres,
And you at last shall bear the smart of all.
First such as of your sparkling eyes complain,
Vnder their clouds of flesh I'l place
To steal those beams wherewith themselves were slain
And armed with those glorious rayes,
In the next fight they shall kill you again.
Then those were hanged in your jacynth hair
Shall rob you of a lock or two,
[Page 89]Which, heing twisted with a Lovers tear,
Shall make a chain to fetter you,
Or string the Bow the God of Love doth bear.
Next such as perish'd by a frown shall come
Arm'd with the hand of time, with which
I'l make them plough such furrows in the room
May envy to your anger teach;
And all your Beauty'st find a grave at home.
He that drinks poyson in a kiss, and dyes,
I'l knead with your most Virgin breath,
Till he to such a noble structure rise
(Shake at the curse I now bequeath)
Wonder shall close your lips, till death your eyes.
And since I am assured that no part
Of yours will be assoil'd of Blood,
Thaw'd by a scalding sigh I will convert
Your frost and snow into a floud,
And drown your Beauty with what guards your heart.
Then as th'asswaging waters left behind
The Earth with slime and rubbish clad,
And the surviving Couple did it find
But by themselves inhabited,
Till pregnant stones renewed lost mankind.
So you this inundation overpast,
Shall in no part appear the same,
[Page 90]But all this world of Beauty be lay'd wast
Till pittying Love renew the frame,
And you your stony heart behind you cast.
But these are weak revenges, fit for those
Who could not stand a single charm;
Those feeble spirits beaten without blows,
And half-consum'd ere I was warm,
Yet never look'd beyond your lip or nose.
Then what shall I who have survey'd you round?
Read over all this Book of Love;
Yet still remain'd unconquer'd, till I found
How ev'ry line a chain did prove,
And ev'ry point thereof had made a wound?
Why first I'l kisse you till my wounds be well,
And, made of your inverted name,
Bind to your bosome such a powerfull spell
As while I kisse shall you enflame,
Till your unslak'd desire burn hot as Hell.
Nor shall your torments vanish when awake,
Like to a fearfull dream of fire;
No (if I dye) a brave revenge I'l take,
And (it I must in flames expire)
Will you a terrible example make.
Glad Love shall clap his little wings▪ for joy,
Fanning therewith the kindled pile,
[Page 91]And, that your self may help for to destroy
Your self, convert your tears to Oile,
And so raise the aspiring flame more high.
Then your sick eyes shall languish after all,
And at each vary'd object take
New fewel, till what now we suns do cal,
Turn into blazing Starrs, or make
Torches for your own Beauties Funerall.
Then your proud heart shall (into tinder burn'd)
Take fire with ev'ry falling sparck,
While your fair outside Ethiopian turn'd
By your own heat, shall in the dark
Be even by Whore-masters & Drunkards scorn'd.
Thus these gay testimonyes of your Art,
Which now so great a triumph have
O'r those produc'd by nature, shall convert
Their Geniall bed into your grave,
And living death, for their dead life impart.
Then leave this work of ruine, and employ
The hours you dedicate thereto,
In saving whom you have condemn'd to dye;
To save, more Honour were for you
Than to create; much more than to destroy.
To a Lady refusing to unvaile.
VVHy not unvail? by Heav'n you are
Almost as scrupulous as fair,
I'l tell you Madam by your leave
These niceties do you but deceive,
And while from us you would conceal
Your Graces, from your self you steal.
It is ridiculous to say
That pnblication takes away
From Beauty, that's a
Species must
To others for a
Genus trust.
For know 'tis generall consent
That makes you Women excellent;
Nor is't in yours, but in our eyes
Your principall perfection lies;
And though you bear such monstrous rates,
From us you had your estimates.
While prostrat at your feet we lye,
Our humbled necks mount you so high;
Our breath doth lift you up, though grown
Out of our reach, to pluck you down.
It is Opinion that must tell
Nature if she've done ill or well.
If Man did never Court her Face
Woman would never Court her Glasse;
'Tis we that make you wise or fair,
Or good, or whatsoere you are,
[Page 93]And when you give your selves to Man
'Tis but his gift giv'n back again.
I'l swear but now I look'd on you
As I would up to Heaven doe,
And valew'd you at such a rate
That all Mankind's to poor to pay't,
When had you still been clouded thus
I should have thought you Leporous.
Whoever will a face extoll
None ever saw, for Beautyfull,
With as much reason might commend
The Child unborn for his brave end.
But for the eye no Beauty were,
No more than Musick but for th'eare.
Your gawdy vessels but for man
Had empty and unregarded laine,
Rotted upon the Dock where they
Were built, and never seen the sea;
Or Launched forth been made a sport
For ev'ry wind, and known no Port:
Or, being driv'n to one by chance,
(Cheated by your own ignorance,)
Where now you richly fraughted come,
Return'd laden with ballast home.
Let nature rigge you up with all
The trim and state a Prodigall
And skilfull builder can invent
Either for Vse or Ornament;
Double and treble Deck you; arm
You with the power of your own charms;
[Page 94]Hatch you with Beauty, and endow
You with that worth may Anchor you;
Streamer you with your own bright hayr,
That Crown of Comets which you weare,
Which like a Glory aptly place
Themselves in curls about your face;
Of those most lovely eyes of yours
Let her create two Cynosures;
And more to dazle our weak sence
Gild you with beams are shot from thence;
With Honour ballast you, and give
You that so large prerogative
Of a great fortune, yet you stand
Windbound, unladen, and unman'd.
Our praises are the only gales
That have the power to swell your sailes:
We are your Merchants, and you are
From us to have your bill of fare;
We are your Pilots, who should sit
At th'Helm, though by you thrust from it;
We (Madam) are your Iudges too,
(Though too oft sentenced by you)
And gen'rally beleeve that she,
(Chuse how Miraculous it be)
That any waies declines so just
A triall, doth her self mistrust.
Then draw this Cypresse cloud which doth
Thus both to Beauty wrong, and truth;
And since there is no cause for this,
Let not the world believe there is.
On a lame and scolding Negro,
HOld me the light a little, what is this,
Which both the substance & the shadow is?
What work of darkness is't that talks thus loud,
Like Thunder, speaking from behind a cloud?
Whose face looks like Nights mantle, and the Sun
Withdraws himself, if by her look'd upon?
Now I conjure thee by
Belzebub tel
Me what thou art, be thou a Fiend of Hell,
Or else some Christian soul, which, thus with smoke
And fire all black'd, hath Purgatory broke;
Or be thou indeed Mortall, flesh and blood
Like us, felt, (heard I'm sure) and understood.
If so, why dost thou wear this veyl? from whence
Proceeds in Creatures such a difference?
Sure Nature, griev'd for some great loss, to shew
Her sorrow, cloth'd thee in a mourning hue,
And made thee lame, that it might not lye hid
How little care she took of what she did:
Or else in thee she bountifully show'd
Where she her richest treasures had bestow'd;
Thy body all compact of golden Ore
Taught us where thou wert found to look for more;
And by that means thou wert at once a Scorn
To us, and Traytor to thy Countrey born.
An EPITHALAMIVM
Invocation of Hymen,
COme
Hymen, come, 'tis thou alone
Can'st satisfie this longing payr;
'Tis thou must justifie them one,
As they in heart already are.
Come then and joyn their willing hands,
That as their souls long since did kiss,
Their bodies may no longer stand
Exempted from so great a bliss.
Fly, fly, thou snail-pac'd God to Church,
And hasten the solemnities:
Ne'r trifle time to light thy torch,
But rather doe it at her eyes.
Thou would'st not use this needless stay,
Wert thou but warm'd with half their fire;
Then how should Mortals brook delay
When they be winged with desire?
Come
Hymen, come, thou art too slow;
Th' impatient Groom is in a rage,
He tels the Moments as they goe,
And thinks each minute is an Age.
The bashfull Bride hangs down her head,
And silently she curses thee.
Her Cheeks are double-dy'd in red,
With Anger and with Modesty.
The Turtles on the Altars mourn
To see their deaths deferr'd so long,
And
Cupid in a rage hath sworn
Thou dearly shalt repent the wrong.
Venus knits her offended brow,
And with her angry Son accords
No Rites hereafter to allow,
But taking one anothers words.
Thus, thus will thy cold Altars fall,
Thus will thy Temples be defac'd,
And thou abandoned of all
Wilt be Vndeify'd at last.
Then, while some reverence thy name,
While thou art yet esteem'd divine,
Throw not the remnant of thy Fame
Away, but these two Lovers joyn.
To a Gentlewoman that sued to her Servant, whom she had formerly forsaken.
THou may'st as well leave off; thy tears, or smiles,
I count no better than a Crocadiles,
And all thy protestations are but wiles.
Thou may'st as easily out-noise the Wind,
Deaf the rude Sea, make Love no longer blind,
As change the tenor of a setled mind.
I'd Lov'd too long should I not know at last
How quickly all thy vowes were overpast,
And thy old servant by a new displac'd.
And should I know all this, and not take heed,
'Twere pity then but I afresh should bleed,
And you might begge me for a fool indeed.
False Woman no, thy unsuspected fall
Hath quench'd those flames, and left, of that great All,
Nought but the ashes of Loves funerall.
And can'st thou hope to kindle a new fire
[Page 99]Where there be left no sparks of old desire,
And a Love-broken heart is made intire?
Why then I'l yeeld; but, since I cannot be
Thy Love, such Miracles shal make of thee
A God, and I'l adore thy deity.
But thou art far from that, as Heavens from cares,
So farre thou can'st not hope for't in thy Prayr's,
Nor purchase with thy penitential tears.
For my young hate of thee is so improv'd,
As I to hate my self am almost mov'd
When I but think that I a woman lov'd.
Yet I'l not say all Women are untrue,
Nor but the bad may mend, but never you,
However I wil ne'r beleeve you doe.
But if, as thou hast prodigally swore,
Thou lov'st me better now than e'r before:
Shew it me then and trouble me no more.
How to chuse a MISTRES▪
FIrst I would have a face exactly fair:
Not long, nor yet precisely circular.
[Page 101]A smooth high brow, where neither Age, nor yet
A froward peevishness hath wrinckles set,
And under that a pair of clear black eyes
To be the windows of the Aedifice;
Not sunck into her head, nor starting out;
Not fix'd, nor rolling wantonly about;
But gently moving, as to whet the sight
By some fresh object, not the appetite:
Their Orbs both equal, and divided by
A wel-proportion'd noses Ivory.
The nostrils open, fit to try what air
Would best preserve the Mansion, what impair.
The colour in her cheek so mixt, the eye
Cannot distinguish where the red doth lye,
Or white; but ev'ry part thereof, as loth
To yeeld in either, equally hath both:
The mouth but little, whence proceeds a breath,
Which might revive one in the gates of death,
And envy strike in the
Panchayan groves,
When their spic'd tops a gentle East-wind moves.
The lips ruddy, as blushing to be known
Kissing each other, by the Lookers on;
And these not to perpetual talk dispos'd,
Nor alwayes in a lumpish silence clos'd;
But e'vry word her innocence brings forth
Sweetned by a discreet and harmles mirth.
The teeth even, and white; a dimpled chin;
And al these clothed with the purest skin.
Then, as good painters ever use to place
The darker shadow to the fairer face,
[Page 101]A sad brown hair, whose am'rous curles may tye
The Pris'ners fast, ta'ne captive by her eye.
Thus would I haue her face; and for her mind
I'd have it cloth'd in Vertue, not behind
The other's Beauty, for a house thus drest
Should be provided of a noble guest.
Then would I have a body so refin'd,
Fit to support this face, enclose this mind.
When all these Graces I in one doe prove,
Then may Death blind me if I do not love.
Yet there is one thing more must needs concur;
She must love me as well as I love her.
Love without Hope.
HOpeless (ah me) I love, nor can I tel
Whether my Love, or my Despair,
Deserve to be esteem'd the greater Hel,
For both alike do breed my care;
Despaires cold
[...]rost cooleth not hot desire,
Nor yet is warmed at the Neighb'ring fire
The faculties of my distemper'd mind
[...],
Anothers servants are becom,
And my corrupted reason hath resign'd
To his old enemy his room;
[Page 102]There the Vsurper now the tyrant playes.
Ill must that kingdom thrive where Faction sways.
Toogreedily I gaz'd, and through mine eyes
My heart did fly unto her brest.
She, with her own contented, straight denyes
To entertain so poor a guest.
With tears it begg'd, that since it had bestow'd
It self on her, it might not lye abroad.
But, she by this confirmed in her scorn,
No tears, no prayers were prevalent;
Coldly she did advise it to return,
And, proud she'd counsail it, it went.
But (ah) in vain; struck blind with too much light,
The way was stopt th'rough
[...] it took its flight.
Naked and wounded it lay helpless there,
Till, I who once had owned it,
Was for the Run'way a Petitioner,
I onely begg'd she would permit
The wretch a habitation there to have,
Though used in the Nature of a slave.
Indeed I hoped better, for could I
Imagine she would ever br
[...]nd
Her name with breach of Hospitality,
Whose credit did so candid stand,
As all that knew her thought they might deter
Vice from their Childten, if nam'd after her?
But what's more free than guift? this empty seat
Doth feel the absent Captives pain,
And now too late I do her heart intreat
Far Hostage, or mine own again.
Thus by my folly am I overthrown;
Constrain'd to beg for what was once mine own.
My heart a Slave; Reason of rule bereft;
My Will, and Vnderstanding wait
On hers, and unto me is only left
Th' sad Memory of a better State.
What can I hope for then, who am so poor?
Besides my sorrows I can give no more.
The dumb LOVER,
FAir
[...], cruell Maid,
Many Shepherds had enflamed,
Whose complaints her sport she made,
Frowning still when Love was named,
Yet those frowns did Love perswade.
'Mong the rest (ah hapless Youth)
Ann
[...]phil did wish to have her,
Though scant of wealth, yet in sooth
Passing all that sought her favour,
For his passing, passing truth.
This poor Wretch sought to suppress
With his tears the rising fire,
But those tears prov'd witnesses
To the World of his desire,
And his paines were ne'r the less.
Speak he durst not, for he fear'd
No death worse than a denyall;
Yet in his eyes, still betear'd,
A too miserable tryall
Of what Love can doe, appear'd.
Armes across, unsteady pace,
Eyes cast down as in subjection,
Broken words, and changed face,
A most desperate affection
In the wofull youth betrayes.
Coward Love, oft would he say,
Who thy shafts on slaves bestowest;
Wounding such as doe obey,
But with Rebels meeting, throwest
Down thine arms, and runn'st away:
Was it not enough that I
Willingly thy yoke took on me?
But I must that service buy,
Which (I fear) hath quite undon me
With fresh cares, fresh misery?
Was it not enough that thou
With thy proper force refused
To succour me, but that now
My tongue (th'rough thee speech-disused)
Cannot mine own thoughts avow?
Art thou a God, who I see
Thus thy humblest Vassals wrongest?
No, thy weaker Deity
Either yields unto her strongest,
Or thy sting is lost in me.
Then his hearty sighs would show
What his tongue had left unspoken,
And he beat his brest to know
If his heart, already broken,
Now were quite consum'd or no.
And, as if those windy sighs,
Had in him a tempest raised,
Flouds would seem to drown his eyes,
Because they too much had gazed
For unsafe discoveries.
Once he in this wofull Plight
Had his lovely Saint espyed;
But at that unlook'd for sight
The storm was lay'd, the flouds dryed,
And his eyes beheld the light.
How he then amazed stood!
With what more than glutton-greediness
He devour'd that precious food!
Health could not diswade his neediness
From what his sence found so good.
His eyes left Physicians rules;
Measure in such feasts observed
Is a lesson fit for fools:
They from such nice precepts swerved
Traind in Love and Beautyes Schools.
Yet his tongue would fain have gat
So much leisure from their wonder,
As might serve for to relate
What a burthen he lay under;
But to speak it knew not what.
And when he her heart to bow
Had fram'd a speech full of passions,
Mingling many a faithfull vow
With more humble supplications,
Then (alas) it knew not how.
Yet his other parts did prove
Friends to its determination;
All his gestures spoke of Love,
All did seem to begge compassion;
Even his silent lips did move.
And in words, which never are
Heard but by the understanding,
Whisper'd forth, O heav
[...]enly
[...]aire,
O Godess all, al commanding,
Deign to hear a Caitiff's prayer.
Long have I lov'd, loved well,
Faithfull Love not hate deserveth.
What salvage mind is so fell,
As his loving flock he sterveth,
If not sav'd by Miracle?
Long have I serv'd, service true
Requires wages for paines-taking;
And, though stipends were not due,
What Miser's so given to raking
As he would no favour shew?
Long have I in fetters lay'n;
Misery compassion breedeth;
And, though Pity quite were slain,
The bloody'st mind never feedeth
On such as count death a gain.
See but how the Sun displayes
His beams on the meanest Creatures;
And will you withdraw your▪ rayes
From one who admires your features,
And knows no light but your face?
See our fruitfull Mother earth,
How she in her Womb doth cherish
The Seed, till a happy birth
Makes the Lab'rors fields to flourish;
And will you bring forth a dearth?
Mark how ev'ry grateful tree
Yeelds the Swain a yearly blessing,
And will you undressed be
Ere you'l either pay for dressing,
Or accept the Courtesie?
When a fruitfull showr of rain
From a melting cloud distilleth,
The earth drinks it up again,
And it the earths wrinckles filleth;
Shall my tears then fall in vain?
Breath you forth a fervent Pray'r,
Heav'n therewith is straight acquainted,
And you hope will ease your care;
Should not then my sute be granted,
Since you so like to Heav'n are?
Love the neighb'ring Elm and Vine
In such strict embraces tyeth:
Love doth make the Turtle pine
When his loving marrow dyeth;
And have you no sense of mine?
Love his power doth each where prove,
Ev'ry thing hath Love about it,
Trees, Beasts, Birds, and Gods above,
And are you alone without it?
The most lovely void of Love?
Change, O change this hum'rous mind;
Never by a name be fooled,
Greater glory will you find,
Be by Flesh and Bloud but ruled,
If you leave a Babe behind.
Were you now laid in your grave,
And this beauteous out-side rotten,
No monuments your fame could save,
Vertue quickly is forgotten,
If the world no Pictures have.
Then, if Marriage be the best,
The best Lover should be chosen.
Will you warm a Niggards brest,
Whose desire with care is frozen,
And his Mistress in his chest?
Or shall any sensuall slave
Glory in so rich a Treasure;
One who covets but to have
You to satisfie his pleasure,
Which his lust, not Love doth crave?
Rather take a man would dye,
One who goods and life despiseth,
Might he pleasure you thereby;
(This from perfect Love ariseth)
Such an one (though poor) am I.
Thus within himself he pray'd,
But receiv'd small satisfaction,
For she heard not what be said,
And she would not read his action.
So the Wretch is quite dismay'd.
A Remedy against LOVE.
IF thou like her slowing tresses,
Which the unshorn
[...]haebus stain,
Think what grief thy heart oppresses,
And how ev'ry curls a chain
Onely made to keep thee fast,
Till thy sentence be o'rpast.
If thou'rt wounded by her eyes
Where thou thinkest
Cupids lie,
Think thy self the Sacrifice,
Those the Priests that make thee die:
If her forehead beauteous show,
Think her forehead
Cupid's bow.
If the Roses thou hast seen
In her cheek still flourishing
[Page 111]Argue that there dwels within
A calme, and perpetuall Spring,
Though she never us'd deceit,
Believe all is counterfeit.
If her tempting voice have power
To amaze and ravish thee,
Sirens sung but to devour,
Yet they sung as well as shee.
O beware those poyson'd tongues
That carry death in their songs.
If the best perfumes seem vile
To her odorif'rous breath,
And the
Phoenix fun'rall pile
When she propagates in death,
Then remem
[...]er how that she
Lives by that doth poyson thee.
If her comly hody ha's
Fairest in thine eye appear'd,
Think how that a Trophey was
Only for thy ruine rear'd.
Women oft their beauties praise
On their Lovers ruines raise.
And if she have ev'ry part
May a Woman perfect make,
And, without the help of Art,
Firmest resolutions shake,
[Page 112]Know
Pandora had so too,
Who was made but to undoe.
But if vertue please thee most,
And thou like her Beautious mind,
Then I give thee o'r for lost;
There no remedy I find;
Yet if she be vertuous then
Sure she will not murther men.
Answer to the former.
OH Vain lip-wisdom, that dost make me school
Another in those things I cannot learn
My self! only this diff'rence I discern
To be 'twixt thee and a professed fool;
He wears his cognisance, but thou hast hit
Asse-like upon the Lyon skin of Wit.
Fool that I was! what if those curles be chains,
What if her eyes do murther my content,
What if her brow be to my ruine bent;
Are fear of death, hate of a prisoners pains,
Of power to set the wretched captive free,
And not (rather) augment his misery?
How id'ly have I talk'd! if I could rack
My faith till I believed she did paint,
Would not the wrong don such a faultless Saint
Be a fresh torment to my soul, and make
Me hate my self who did so basely err,
Rather than have a misconceit of her?
Sure too much wit hath made me mad. I said
The Sirens only sung to work our harm;
But who at any time avoids the charm?
Vlisses did.
Vlisses was afraid
And▪ since he scap'd) may thank his timely fears
That taught him (e're he heard them) t'stop his ears.
But here's a potent argument indeed,
There is (forsoth) such an antipathy
Betwixt us two, her breath doth poyson me!
I would I might upon such poyson seed;
But were it so; have I nor
[...]inely brought
An Antidote when't hath already wrought?
Here comes more stuff of the stamp; that brave
Store-house of Noble▪ worth, Vertues best seat,
Where first (like Sisters) she and Beauty met,
Made but a Trophey for a Conquer'd slave.
And what inferrs all this,
[...]ut that I am
Hers (by the Rule of War) who overcame?
Into what errors do poor Lovers slip!
But now, I did affirm
Pandora made
So fayr, that man might better be betray'd.
Were the Gods cheated in their workmanship?
But that they knew Mans frailty had they sent
Her, thus adorned, for a punishment?
Here have I mixed truths with falshoods; right
Indeed it is that in a vertuous Love
The Soul is fix'd, and findeth no remove;
But 'twere as base and false for to endite
A vertuous Woman for destroy'ng Mankind,
As th' Sun when the rash gazer is Struck blind.
I Love (alas) I Love, nor all the skill
Of my subjected reason can resist
His power who Tyrannises as he list;
Acknowledging no Law besides his will:
And I by striving doe but make my sore
Fester, my bondage harder than before.
To Almanna, Why She should Marry Me.
HOw comes this suddain change, my Dear?
I will be sworn, not full two dayes agoe
Thou wert most excellently fayr,
But now, I grieve to say't, thou'rt nothing so.
No sicknes could disfigure you,
Nor sorrow plough such wrinckles in your face,
Your happy bosome never knew
That saw
[...]y thought, which durst disturb your peace.
But yet if grief or sicknes should
Have the good Fortune to approach so nigh,
Sicknes it sel
[...] recover would,
And sorrow be converted into joy.
Nor can I yet believe you owe
Ought unto Art for the last face you wore,
A Borrow'd Beauty you I know
Despise, and would have none at all before.
Chuse how it be, methinks that face
Appears to me now no such Miracle;
Yet still it is the same it was,
Only it doth not please me half so well.
Then you will say tis evident
The change is in my judgment and not you:
[Page 116]It is so, but then you must grant
'Tis, 'c
[...]use I know more now than then I knew.
Sweet! I will tell thee; heretofore
I never pierced further than thy Skin;
Reading thy body o'r and o'r;
Without examining what was within.
And then indeed I did esteem
Thy matchless Beauty at so high a rate,
That ev'r
[...] object else did
[...]eem
A mere deformity compar'd to that.
But now this happy day, I have
Discovered a new and richer mine,
I all my admiration gave
To that most admirable soul of thine,
Which so dims all exterior form
That now thy Body worthless did appear,
And sure had faln beneath my scorn,
But that I see thy soul is lodged there.
Now, if thy Body in revenge
Shall yeeld it self to base desires, thoul't see
Another, but a far worse change;
Thy Body fair, thy Soul deform'd will be.
But if thou wilt give me a right
To call them both mine own, thou so shalt make
Them both seem precious in thy sight,
Yet neither from the others lustre take.
For while my soul is thus alone
The Iudge both of thy soul and body made,
It partially inclines to one
And no regard is to the other had.
[Page 117]But if my body once were join'd
In the Commission with it, then would thine
A farre more equall sentence find
Being supported by the Love of mine.
Like is best judge of like we say,
And sure in shape I wondrous like thee am,
Since thus by the whole world we may
So easily be taken for the same:
Then plight me but thy troth, and thou,
Both in thy Mortall, and Immortall part,
Shalt seem more fair than thou seem'st now;
Nay, were it possible, more fair than th' art.
Then I all day will gaze on thee,
And feast at night on what I then did view,
And thou (my Dear) shalt so both be
My study and my recreation too.
Nor shalt thou yet, though made one flesh
With me, lose any thing at all thereby;
But grow to more by being less,
And even by contraction multiply.
Our very souls shall twine and be
So close in mutuall embraces knit,
They shall grow Parents too, and we
New vertues will as well as Children get.
Still'd th'rough th' alimbeck of desire
Our bodies by degrees shall melt away,
And purg'd by a still equall fire
From all their dross, grow souls as well as they.
But if thou trust to others eyes,
And shalt reject so generous a flame,
[Page 118]Beleeve it others shal thee prize,
Not as the wonder of thy sex but shame.
The brighter that the Angels were
Before they from their first Creation fel,
Each one did afterwards appear
By so much the more dark, and terrible.
And if thou look but back thoul't find
Pride, and Rebellion c
[...]uses of their fall;
Sinnes, to which Murther will be joyn'd
In thee, and make thee the great'st Dev'l of all.
For know this heart of mine was given
Long since up to the power of Love; but he
God-like, did still keep state in Heaven,
And only ruled there by Deputy.
And since he had the faith suspected
Or skill, of any one particular,
He unadvisedly erected
An Aristocracy of ev'ry fair.
But thence such evils did ensue,
And my poor heart was so in pieces rent,
That he at length did fix on you,
And made it a Monarchick Government.
Then now thou'st All that All they had,
Should'st thou turn Tyrant, & with fire & sword
Thine own Dominions invade,
Would'st thou not be by the whole world abhorr'd?
The Angels thinking to de pose
The Deity, were into Devils turn'd:
And fear'st not thou the fate of those,
(Whose sin thou imitat'st,) if I be scorn'd?
[Page 119]For though thou covet not the Throne,
Yet thou dethronest Loves great Deity;
And though thou make them not thine own,
The Subject kill'st, and kingdom dost destroy.
The Meteor.
DId you behold that glorious Star, (my Dear)
(W
ch shin'd but now, me thought, as bright
As any other childe of light,
And seem'd to have as good an interest there)
How suddenly it fell, our Eyes
Pursuing it through all the spacious Skies,
Through which the now extended Flame
Had chalk'd the way to Earth from whence it came?
And were you not with wonder struck to see
Those Forms, which the Creation had
At first in number perfect made,
Thus sometimes more, and sometimes lesse to be?
Or rather in this second Birth,
To see Heav'n copy'd out so near by Earth,
As were it not for their own fall,
We should not know which were the Original?
Fair one, these diff'rent Lights do represent
Such as pretend unto the Love
Some Stars; some high fix'd in Loves Firmament,
And some (that seem as bright and fair)
More basely humble hover in the Air
Of words, and with fine dextrous art,
Do act a Passion never touch'd their heart,
Yet these false Glow-worm fires a while do shine
Equal to the most Heav'n-born flame,
And so well counterfeit the same,
That they, though almost beastly, seem divine;
But should some blinde unlucky chance
Deform you any ways, or make your wants
Vie Greatnesse with your Beauty, then,
They drop to their own Element agen.
That Witch self-love is the sole Guide to these,
And sets such Charms upon their Bloud,
That 'tis with it or Ebb or Floud,
According to their own Conveniencies;
And now those seem thus clear and high,
They also mount and shine, but by and by
Not able to maintain that height,
Fall over-charg'd with their own sordid weight.
That seeming Star which shot but now was made
Of Vapors by the Sun exhal'd,
When our Meridian he scal'd,
And still
[...]ad stayed there, had he still stay'd;
But now its proper Centre is
[Page 121]Thus interposed betwixt him and this,
In that forc'd height it will remain
No longer, but inclines to Earth again.
So while your Beauty its bright Rayes projects
Vpon these grov'ling sons of Earth,
It giveth new affections Birth,
And to a nobler height their
[...]ouls erects;
So winging their new-born desire,
Their towring thoughts dare at your self aspire,
And gotten the half way, do there
Hover a while 'twixt yours and their own Sphere.
But when the night of Absence doth divide
You from their view, and their first base
Desires possesse the middle space,
And court them back again, their thoughts abide
No longer in suspense, nor stay
So much as the decision of the Day,
But ere that can, with you, return,
They all unite themselves to the first-born.
Now such as love like me are truly Stars,
And even then do shine most bright
When most you do absent your light:
Let Chance, let Nature place the strongest bars
Of wealthy Earth 'twixt you and me,
Or masque you with a Cloud of Leprosie,
Yet still my Love should be the same,
And at some part of your great soul still light its flame.
An EPITHALAMIVM
Upon T. P. and M. H.
INsulting Night proud in her lengthned sway.
Hail glorious Maid, whose brighter beams display,
And with fresh lustre wing the tardy Day.
Phoebus, who worn with Age, now bed-rid lies,
Looks out to see what God his room supplies,
And takes new vigor from your sparkling eyes.
Some, who your morning Blushes saw, did swear
The Sun look'd red, and a foul day was near;
But all the showre will be a maiden tear.
Fair Virgin blush not, (though a Bride) to none
Are you beholding for the Light which shone;
Guided unto the Temple by your own.
No intermedling God can claim a share
In this Conjunction; you your selves did pair;
They not Assistants but Spectators were.
Cupid his Quiver empty'd had in vain;
Your Husband did retort his shafts again;
But with one glance shot from your eye was slain.
The pitying Epidaurian straight was mov'd,
But all his Balsams ineffectual prov'd:
'Tis known he dies you wound, if not belov'd.
Glad Love with his recovered shafts perswades
Himself he easily can conquer Maids▪
And with his dull Artillery you invades:
But his ill-headed Darts did all rebound;
Onely soft pity there an entrance found:
So Buff daunts Swords, which a weak straw will wound.
The blow was double, you your self did grone,
When you beheld what you your self had done,
And surely lov'd his wound because your own.
Hymen the Priest of Heav'n then left the Skies
To wait on you in these Solemnities,
But had his Torch extinguish'd by your eyes.
The busie God, that he might something do
Studied a Benediction then; but you
Prov'd both the Blessing and the Donor too.
Ioves Herald, warned by the Trump of Fame,
His Hat and Feet new-winged hither came,
[Page 124]To blesse you in his absent Fathers name.
Who would have come himself, but that afraid
The Gyants of this Age should Heav'n invade,
Were they not by his awfull Thunder staid.
Thus should the God have spoke; but he doth stand
With wonder dumb, & from his trembling hand,
The Charmer charm'd, lets fall his snaky wand▪
Bac
[...]hus beheld, who all amazed cry'd,
Had
Semel' had these Rayes she had not dy'd;
But
Iove himself (though arm'd with lightning)
Straight he his wine-press leaves, & bringeth down fry'd.
For you his
Ariadnes starry Crown;
But findes you wear a richer of your own.
The God of War doth from the Battail
[...]lie;
Hangs up his uselesse Sword and layeth by
All other tokens of Hostility.
His crimson'd hand from bloud; his brow from sweat,
And dust now cleans'd, he humbly doth intreat
He may on you to
Concor
[...]'s Temple wait.
But while he covets peace, the God doth wage
A War within himself, whose potent rage
Doth in the Conflict all his Pow'rs engage.
The twice repulsed
[...]
[...], who his sight
For this days triumph begd, doth curse the light;
Before but hood-winckt; now he's blinded quite.
Vulcan his Forge in
Sicily neglects,
And hither his lame steps in haste directs,
Heav'ns peril, nor
Ioves anger he respects.
A thousand Hammers in his brain do beat,
And all his study is how he may get
You
[...]etter'd in his Artificial Net.
But the deceived God while that he plac'd
And in conceit already you embrac'd,
Was by a look of yours himself chain'd fast.
His Wife at once blush'd, wept, and sigh'd, and frown'd,
And cri'd, Now is my
Pap
[...]os unrenown'd,
And all her Glory in this Mue
[...]t-lake drown'd.
My
Mars hath left me, would she would allow
Me but my long despised Husband now;
But he is Pris'ner too, I know not how.
This said, she yokes her Doves, resolv'd to see
If by her Beauty she again might free
Whom yours had brought into Captivity.
Vain was her Enterprize, she soon confest,
The Magick of her Face could not contest
[Page 126]With yours, and so stood gazing with the rest.
The warlike
Pallas knits her martial brows,
And as she shakes her trembling spear, she vows
Revenge, then her unveiled
Gorgo
[...] shows:
But strait she found her Error, You alone
Did more than she determin'd to have done,
Medusa's Head and She both turn'd to stone.
The bashfull
Ph
[...]ebe with a down-cast look
To beg your kinde Reflexion hither took
A journey, and her dark'ned Orb forsook:
But ready now to utter her Desire,
The light was such she durst approach no nigher,
Nor yet in that amazement could retire.
Great
Iuno backs a Cloud, and as she sails
Thorow the Air, her blushing Face she vails
(Now vanquish'd twice) with her stript Peacocks
Her
Argos hundred Eyes she hates, and pin'd tails▪
With Envie wishes that she had been blinde
Her self, when first she did your Beauty finde.
The Goddess stoops to Earth, & thinks to shrowd
You from
Ioves view in a condensed Cloud;
But you disperst it, and more glorious shew'd.
Thus all the Gods this morning suffer'd shame
By you alone, and stood as in a Dream▪
Till you once joyn'd, unto themselves they came.
And now
Bacchus and
Ceres strive who best
Shall please your company; for you they gh
[...]st
Would most on one anothers Faces feast.
The others (daring not appear) have sent,
By me their Proxy this short complement,
Which once delivered away they went.
BRight Virgin, though your blooming youth abound
With all those Virtues which the Earth adorn;
Though ev'ry part be with that Beauty crown'd,
May make it noon ere it be fully morn.
Though bounteous Heav'n no blessings hath in store
Which you deserve not richly to enjoy;
Whatever
Phoebus doth behold, and more,
Even to twist the thread of Destiny.
Though you deserve the Seas discovered womb
Should unto you her hidden Treasures give,
Which when you die should serve to build your Tomb;
But all the Gods attend you whilest you live.
Though we confesse all this to be your due,
Yet do not boast that it is yours alone;
Your Husband meriteth both this, and you;
What then deserve you now conjoyn'd in one?
May you live long and happy, all your dayes
Crown'd with a lasting plenty and content;
May no disturbance ever cloud the Face;
But what one doth, let be by either meant.
A fruitfull, and a toward Linage blesse
Your youth; the subject to support your age;
And when Death summons you, in happinesse
May they succeed as well as Heritage.
And (if more may be said) may you two have
Blessings above your hopes, above your wishes;
And when age fits your bodies for the Grave,
May then your spirits meet breath'd out in Kisses.
Thus the uncaptiv'd Gods do joyntly pray,
Yet
Iuno vows a chast revenge withall,
Swearing (fair Bride) that you a while shall stay,
Before you do upon
Lucina call.
On a Necklace of small Pomander, given him by a Lady.
ANd art thou mine at length? com'st thou to deck
My worthlesse Wrist thus persum'd by her neck?
Canst thou so freely to my use dispense
That precious Odor thou receivedst thence?
Couldst thou (alas) such real joys sorsake
For this sad cause to justifie thy black?
Me thought thou wert, while thou didst that invest,
The cinders of the Phoenix spiced Nest,
Out of whch rose her admirable Face,
As the sole
sp
[...]cies of that Virgin Race.
There hadst thou grown immortal; while worn there
No day but added to thy Life a Year:
But now thou dost with me in Exile live,
Each day doth take, what there each day did give.
Alas poor Fool! Man might have taught thee this,
Death waits on those are banish'd Paradize.
Couldst thou have still continu'd there, thou'dst bin
Long-liv'd as he, had he not found out sin.
No Fate had cut thy thread, nor chance unstrung
Thy Beads, till the Worlds Passing-Bell had
[Page 130]Pearls had look'd pale with Envy, Diamonds mourn'd,
And sparkling forth their prouder anger burn'd,
While every grain of thee had grown a Gem
Of greater price than the whole Race of them.
The wary Prophets mercenary Wife,
Who for a Bracelet sold her Husband's life,
And thought her Crime excus'd, the flame-fac'd stones
Being such prevalent Temptations,
All her so dear-bought Iewels would have thrown
Down at her feet for the exchange of one
Thou'dst grown a Rosary for Angels there,
Thy glorious Beads dropt in eternal Prayer.
Offer'd in smoke thou mightst have bought the Gods
Out of their Heaven to have chang'd Abodes
With thee; we should have seen the deathlesse Train
About her neck link'd in an endlesse Chain:
The emulous Powers contending who should rest
On the Swan-downy Pillows of her brest,
Where by a more especial favor thrown,
They had that Heav'n preferred to their own.
And canst thou quit so coveted a place
To feel such a sick Pulses frantick pace?
To circle this poor arm which still must mourn
Because it must not be where thou wert worn?
Indeed 'tis true my small Physician, she
Taught thee thy skill, but 'tis best shew'd on me.
Thanks charitable Friend. For this will I
[Page 131]Study a reward great as thy courtesie.
No Relique shall be kept more safe, nor be
In greater Adoration had than thee:
Each morning will I with a trembling kisse
Offer my burning Lips in Sacrifice:
All day look on thee with that greedy view,
As if I meant to string mine Eyes there too:
At night my never slumbring thoughts shall keep
The Watch, while thou dost in my bosome sleep;
And lest my panting Heart alarm thee there,
Ile turn it out for to be lodg'd elsewhere:
I would not with a minutes absence buy
The World, though Heav'n were the Security.
I'l tell thy numerous seeds, and know the same
Not onely by their number, but by name;
Then set a higher price on ev'ry Bead,
Than I would rans
[...]m upon a Monarchs head;
No wealth should fetch thee from me, unlesse she
Would be the price her self, who owned thee.
When scorch'd by some proud Beauty, I for shade
Will flie to the small knots of thy dark brade:
And when I'm ready with despair to freez,
I will inflame my self by kissing these;
Driv'n to Extremity I scarce would stoop
To take the Chymists greatest secret up;
For with a touch of thee my fancy would
Be sure to turn all Metalls into Gold.
Thou art my All on Earth, and he that robs
Me but of one of these thy little Globes,
I in Heav'ns juster Chancery will lay
[Page 132]To's charge the stealing the whole World away;
But which (when Fate protract) thy time is come,
(Hastned with grief to be so long from home)
Thou shalt from me again to her depart;
For on the slaming Altar of my Heart
I'll all the filth thou here contracted'st take
Away, and so in Incense pay thee back.
Thus Ile requite thy kindnesse; but be sure,
Thou dost not wound, where thou pretend'st to cure;
'Twould be a treach'rous and unworthy Art,
Thus ty'd about mine arm, to give my Heart.
On Himself being Lame.
I Prithee tell not me of Pox or Gout;
It is my Fancie's fall'n into my Foot.
I know her haughty stomack did disdain
To lie a soaking in a small-Beer brain;
This Salamander doth in flames still dwell,
And in a cooling Iulip findes a Hell.
Give her a Bowl of
Spanish, which might breath
A Feaver into the cold Limbs of Death;
Might make the Brethrens Marble rise, & dance,
Till it had wak'd the drowsie Puritans,
And raised their new-molded dust to sing
Zealous Encomiums of the Cath'lique King:
Then she will knock at Heav'n: this Tavern flie,
When throughly drench'd in Sack doth soar most high,
And (like the South-winde) from her dropping wings,
Shakes the bright showre, which up in numbers springs;
Numbers might pose Arithmetick, and teach
Dull man what feet will up to Heaven reach;
Numbers, which without sweating are distill'd,
And writ when you'd believe the Inck was spill'd,
And that in so harmonious a strain
You'd finde a Musick in the pretious rain.
Then might you see her Wine-wet cheeks outshine
[Page 134]The Muses washing in their Hippocrene:
She were a Wife for
Bacchus then but that
He must not marry what himself begat.
Then she'd out-noise
Ioves thunder, that which rent
The Womb of
Semele for the Firmament:
Swear that with Genial Nectar he was warm'd,
When's fertile brain brought forth
Minerva arm'd,
And tell me if I'd heat it well with Wine
His should not be more pregnant than should mine;
She would be my
Minerva, nor afraid
To challenge at both Weapons the great Maid;
And she would still have swagger'd there no doubt,
If I would still have turn'd my Reason out;
But when she found her selfe was over-aw'd
By that, the ranting Girl her self out-law'd;
Then to spite me, she sick (forsooth) doth grow,
And onely because I would not be so:
Drooping she down into my Anckle fell
Angry that I at Night should stan
[...] so well,
And as she sunk she whisper'd in mine Ear,
'Twas Iustice to lame me who lamed her.
Since thou (saith she) wilt needs grow wise, and staid,
I'l stay thee within doors till thou grow mad;
When businesse shall invite thee forth, or Friends,
Thou shalt not stir, not though thy Mistris sends.
[Page 135]Keep thy head sober, and mark if thou don't,
Ere I have done, wish thou could'st go upon't;
There let thy precious Reason rule, while I,
To spite her, raise thy humble foot as high.
There I, like
Bacchus in
Iov
[...]'s Calf, will keep
Such Revels, as shall rob thine Eyes of sleep;
Run raging up and down▪ as if I were
Turn'd Froe, and kept his frantick Orgies there;
There will I quaff cold humors stead of Sack,
And dance on th' Ropes till thy tough Sinews crack.
Then shalt thou call for Wine, fill, fill again,
And not for pleasure drink, but ev'n for pain,
Till thou hast been at a more vast expence
To drive, than might before have kept me thence.
Yet I'l not cripple thee of both, still use
One Leg, and stand on't like a studying Goose;
Make lamentable Verses, tun'd with Oh,
And comma'd with Alas, which could they go
But smoothly on a Ballad-singers tongue,
Vnto
Holla my Fancy, might be sung:
But whatsoere thou henceforth writest shall
Serve for waste Paper to the Hospitall;
Nor shalt thou there finde any parcell man
So lame, as he thy halting Rithmes can skan.
This is the truth, then never wonder why
A harsh low Fancy writes nor smooth, nor high.
What do her Numbers then in print, you'll say?
Why, Faith, if they be good, I hope they may;
[Page 136]If not, she is a Witch, and you'll confesse,
The Law condemneth Witches to the Presse.
The broken Heart.
GOd doth require a broken Heart; 'tis true;
But he would have it whole, and broken too:
Broken when it on it's own sins reflects;
Intire when Him it's Object it respects.
Woman will have the same; her Lover's Soul
Must also both divided be and whole;
Whole in regard none else doth in it share,
But yet divided betwixt Hope and Fear.
Heav'n and Imperious Woman both lay claim
Vnto my Heart, and both will have the same
Vnrivall'd, yet the easi'r to decide
The bus'nesse I presumed to divide
Betwixt them what they sought, & so being loth
To displease either, have displeas'd them both.
What should I do? I knew I should preser
My God, and therefore could not give it her:
And when I would have given him all his due,
Me thought in her I saw a Deity too.
O Fool ▪ thousands may claim thy Heart, but none
Can have a Right unto his Claim but One.
And can's
[...] thou not distinguish Titles? He
[Page 137]Doth Mercy exercise; she Tyranny.
A Love-bred Confidence is the best signe
Of a just Monarchy; a Right Divine.
And Cruelty grounded upon distrust
Is full as sure a note of an unjust.
Give God thy broken heart, he whole will make it;
Give Woman thy whole heart, and she will break it.
To PHOEBVS, Seeing a Lady before Sun-rise.
PHoebus lye still, and take thy rest
Securely on thy
I ethy's brest;
Thou need'st not rise to guild the East:
For she is up whose wakings may
Give birth and measure to the day,
Although thou hide thy self away.
Phoebus lye still, and keep the side
Warm of thy chast and watry Bride,
Thy useless Glory laid aside:
For she is up whose beautie's might
Can change ev'n Darkness into Light,
When thou can'st but succeed the Night.
Phoebus lye still, and shroud thy head
Within the covert of thy Bed,
Or counterfeit that thou art dead:
For she is up, and I do find
Gazing on thee doth onely blind
The outward eyes, but her the Mind.
Yet
Phoebus rise, and take thy Chair
Once more, shaking dull vapors from thy hair▪
But wink, and look not on my fair:
For if thou once her Beauty view,
Ere night thou wilt thy self undo,
Nor have a home to go unto.
And were thy Chariot empty, she
But too unfit a guide would be,
Having already scorched me:
For I'm afraid lest with desire
She once more set the World on fire,
Making all others
Ae
[...]hiops by her.
FINIS.
Comments upon the First Scene: Act the First.
IF this Translation were only to fall into the hands of learned Readers, Comments were extreamly unnecessary, but since we know not how the capacities of all are pallated, the Reader will be pleased to look upon these Illustrations as Torches, which if they knew the way, are useless, if not may light their understanding.
1. Parnes is a Mountain in Attica the dominion of Athens.
2 Zephyr is the West-wind ennobled with sundry Epithites, and particularly in its derivative of [...], as causing Germination and pulbulation, he is called Decoy, because of the gentle showers he ushers.
3. Illissus is a River in Attica, which in its seasons (as all the rest is to be understood) is subject to congelations, so much the more observable, because Greece is lesse obnoxious to those inclemencies of cold then these Regions.
4. We should hardly avoid an Indecorum, if we did not reconcile [Page 50] the author in this Meander, which though it be an Asiatick River, yet credulous antiquitie supposed, that after it had mingled with the Sea became emergent again in Pel [...]ponesus.
5. Marathan is a city in Attica, which owes the glory of its memory to a memorable defeat given to the Persian by the A [...]henian.
6. Acarnania is the Southern part of Attica, which by the benefit of its scituation, is more warm then the o [...]her par [...]s o [...]f that Dominion.
7. Hymettus is a place there of great reputation for [...]ees.
8. A Village there adjacent.
9. Sunion is a Promontory, where the Sea being neet limitation, beats with extraordinary violence.
10. The Latine Copies read it Philips, mistaken for Phibalis a place in Attica, here supposed to be the lodge of a Bore; designd for Hippolitus his hunting.
11. Diana not unsitly termed Queen of the worlds solitary part, whether as presiding over the woods, or governing the night according to those Verses,
12. Araxes is an Armenian River arising from the same mountain which gives source to Euphrates. To which the Author adds, Ister subject to Glaciation a River in Germany, that by their remotion, the universalitie of Dianas power may bee more conspicuous, which is his design in the following Verses.
Upon the Second Seene.
CRete, aptly invocated by Phaed [...]a as being her country, may justly be term [...]d Soveraign of those Seas, being seated in the middle thereof, being washed with the Aegean on the North, the Afric [...] [...] [...]bian on the South, 279. miles in length, and 50. in breadth, havin [...] [...] ancient greatness a hundred Cities, nor is it an [...] Epithete in the Greeks to call it [...].
To understand this [...] ascend to the History of Theseus, Minos, and P [...]aedra, [...]or the death of his Son Androgeus, made [Page 51] an eager war upon the Atbenians, who being compel'd to submission, were tied to this Article of sending seven yong-men every yeer to Cr [...]te to be given to the Minotaur, (a Monster begotten by a Bull upon Pasiphae;) the Storie is too obscene for publication) Theseus decision of fortune had in the third year selected Theseus for this sacrifice, who by the assistance of Ariadne daughter to Minos kild this monster, and evaded the Labyrinth. Ariadne and her Sister (our) Phaedra were both taken by him, where after having ingratefully deserted Ariadne; this Phaedra the remaining sister was brought to Athens, a country, Enemie to Minos, and married to him
3. This is by an Ironie, noting Theseus as signall for Inconstancie, Helene, Hippolita, Melibae, Ariadne, all belov'd by him, and forsaken after or destroyed.
4. By this audacious Champion is intended Pirotheus who after the death of his Wife Hippodame had with Theseus made a Vow never to marry any, but a Daughter of Iupiter; None of those Daughters being to be found above; hee, a true [...]udacious Champion, descends to Hell, associated with Theseus, designing a Rape upon Proserpine, at the first assault Cerberus killed him, and Theseus endeavouring to afford him assistance, or revenge, was taken alive, there kept in chains by Pluto, and after rescued by Hercules. Others are of opinion that the descent into Hell, was rather to restore Proscrpine to her afflicted Mother.
5. Aetna a Mountain vomiting flames in S [...]icily.
6. A solemn form of adoration to wave their Torches at Sacrisices, or other addresses, to their pretended Divinity.
7. In the building of Athens, antiquitie was credulous to believe of a contention between Neptune and Minerva, concerning the Protection and Nomination of this new City, which was to bee determined to bee dedicated to that God who should produce, the most profitable benefit to mankind; Neptune produced a Horse, because of his use in labouring of the ground and portage, but Minerva concluding peace and plenty to be the most commodious, caused the Olive to spring up, with giving her the victorie, she named the city (after her own name of [...],) Athens.
[Page]8 Pasiphae, the Mother to Phaedra, wife to Mino [...], whom they report to be enamour'd of a Bull, and by Dedalus his Art including her in a wooden Cow fed those wild flames with actuall enjoyment of her Beastly woer, from this unnaturall mixture, proceeded the Minotaur.
9. The Sun by discovery, of the embraces betwixt Mars and Venus, to Vulcan her husband, contracted the hare of this Goddess towards his issue, and Pasiphae being his daughter is beleeved to be struck with th [...]se unwarrantable flames by her revengefull design and appointment.
10. Daughter to [...] the son of [...]upiter.
11. Theseus at that time was inchaind by Pluto.
12. Minos who by opportunitie of the [...]cituation of his Kingdom, and benefit of a Navi [...], ruled all those [...]cas. In this she repeats all the anc [...]stors of P [...]aedra, as the Sun her grandfather by the Mother, Iupiter by [...], at once presenting her with the fear of Revenge by ampliation of their Power.
13. These Verses are Ironick as upbraiding Phaedra with that Monstrous love of her Mother, and the monster her Brother the Minotaur;
14. Antiope and Hippolita though different names are to be understood one Person, the Mother of Hippolitus a brave Amazon Princess, who in a com [...]a: with Theseus submitted to his more vigorous valour and was married to him, but after in some amatorie Expostulations taxing her Husband, he in his passion kil'd her.
15. Phaedra palliates her impious crimes with the repetition of her Mothers lust, as if irresistibly derived to her from Pasiphae.
16. Both Theseus and Pyryt [...]on, being both adulterers, may more excellently give Indulgence to that crime in which they are equally guilty.
17. The sense is, Will Minos, who not so much as followed to revenge the Impiety and treason of Ariadve then running away with Theseus, be more severe in a Remoter cause?
18. Theseus then supposed dead.
19. Pallas Tower the Cittadel of Athens, which was divided into the three Parts, the Aeropolis or Cittadell, the City, and the Pyraeum.
Upon the Chorus of the first Act.
1 VEnerem ex spumâ maris & Caeli t [...]sticulis à Saturno excisis natam fabulantur. This Goddess said to be born of the flood, either because of the Fluctuations and Perturbations which follow those Passions, attending the sight of Beauty, or because moisture gives all things radication so from propagation (the act which this Goddes presides over) the species of things receive their rise and continuation.
2. This not to be understood of Eros and Anteros, but of a legitime and warrantable affection, and prohibited for impious desire, the warrantable Cupid, Cicero in his De natura deorum, will have to be the son of Venus and Iupiter, the Impious of night, and Er [...]bus, something against the sense of the Poet, who would have them both born of Venus.
3. Apollo for the murther of Cyclops, being by Iupiter divested of divinity, submitted himself to be Admetus (then King of Thessaly) his Shepherd; but our Poet sems to have it be, onely in design to enjoy that Kings Daughter.
4. Iupiter in severall shapes accomplish'd his lusts, to possess himself of Leda, he became a Swan; to enjoy Europa, a Bull.
5. In the division of dominions betwixt the three Brothers, Heaven and Earth fel to Iupiters assignation, the Sea to Neptune and Hell to Pluto.
6. Endymion for his exact Observation of the renovations and decrescencies of the Moon was reputed by the fabulous & easie, faith'd antiquity to have bin admitted to her imbraces, and by her hid amongst the Latmian rocks in Caria, that she might undiscovered enjoy him; in the mean while her Brother, the Sun; at her Instance took the government of the night upon him: that Moony chariot being fained to have been driven with two Steeds, because of the less rapid motion of her course; compared to her Brother, to whom therefore they ascribed four.
7. Hercules is reported out of complacency to Omphale the Lydian Princess of whom he was passionately enamoured to have laid aside his club, and the hide of the Nemaean Lion, and cloath himself in female habit, and forgetting the memory of all his former generous undertaking, to apply himself to the Distasse, and other womanly exercises.
[Page 54]8. The Nereides are supposed the daughters of Nereus and Doris, being all Sea-nymphs, and called by the Names of Nesea Cymothoe, and others, the names are at large in Hesiods Theogenia.
Act the second,
Scene the first.
1. HIppolita from Scythia the seat of the Amazons invaded Attica, with her Viragoes, where being overcome in arms by Theseus, she captiv'd her conqueror by her beauty.
2. It was an opinion of the Ancients, that the Moon were obnoxious to the Charms of Witches, amongst none was more infamously famous then those of Thessaly.
3. This Verse hath a new reflexion of the Moons descending to Endymion a Carian Shepherd, and by the deprecation of such another descent, the Poet insinuates a diminution of her reputation by it.
Scene the second.
1. The Custome of the Ancients in their sacrifices, was to crumble upon the sacrifice Altar and knives, a cake of barley and salt, which being called in Latine Mola gave rise to the word Immolare.
2. The stones which bounded possessions were called sacred, either because it was amongst the Ancients esteemed sacrilegious to remove them, or because that upon them yearly, the Lords of those bounded possessions, used to sacrifice upon those stones to Iupiter Terminalis, or the God Terminus.
3. Medea is an apt example to obtrude an infamy upon her sex, for she betrayed her father Aeta, tore in pecc [...]s her brother Absyrtus, juggled the daughters of Pelias into Parricide upon their own parent, destroyed Crcon and his daughter Creusa, by caustick poisons, to testifie her revenging hatred [...] husband Iason, killed her two sons Mormorus before the eyes of the deprecating father: And lastly, which Hippoli [...]us seem [...] to [...] upon, being married to Aegeus (the graddfa [...]r to this yong man, to preferre her own son) laid plots for the [...] o [...] Theseus.
4. The Syrtes are two dangerous Bayes in the Lybian Seas, full of flats; sholes, and quick sands.
5. Meaning the Amazons who by expulsion of their Husbands testifie their hate to Males, yet could this Love which s [...]ee▪ [Page 55] perswades him to submit unto, prevaile upon his Mother notwithstanding the disadvantages of being an Amazon and a Scythian.
Scene the third.
1. Theseus had committed the Regency of Attica to her during his absence.
2. This speech of Phaedras appeares dronick, from the improbability that Pluto should dismiss One, who had a designe of rape upon his wife, and might, if returned, disclose those not to be made publick secrets of his darke Province; yet reflecting upon the power of Love, she concludes, that that may bow even Pluto himself into Compassion.
3. Of the Minotaure already we have spoken.
4. Ariadne ingratefully deserted by Theseus, was after entertained by Bacchus; who in consideration of her Love to him, translated her into a Constellation, whom Phaedra invokes from the similitude of their affections, she having doted on the father Theseus, as Phaedra on the son Hippolitus.
5. Diana which Hippolitus ado [...]'d, or Phoebus Grandfather to Phaedra.
Chorus of the second Act.
1. Chorus.
2. Hesperus ascending the Brow of Atlas, that from that height he might more conspicuously contemplate the course of the Stars, by some accident, of either of chance, or malice, did there concealedly depart this life, which gave occasion to conjecture, that he was translated into that illustrious Star, which in the Evening we cal Hesperus, in the Morn Lucifer, or Phosphorus.
3. Of Bacchus, his triumph over India, his attributes of everyoung naked, crownd with Ivy Horns, unshorn, and the rest; see Natalis Comes Mytholog. lib. 5. cap. 13.
4. Ariaduc was at first enjoyed by Theseus, afterward by Barchus, which the Poet is pleased to ascribe Bacchenalion, as finding [Page 56] a greater, and more attracting excellency in Hippolitus father, then Liber Pater.
5. The Naides, so called, [...], were Nimphs which the Ancients ascribed to Fountains, their imprisoning of beauteous young men in their streams, is taken from the Disstaters of drowned Hylas and Narcissus.
6. The Arcadians, being Greclans of a more untracted antiquity then the rest, boasted their beginnings to be before the Sun and Moon.
7. How the Driades, or Sylvan Nymphs may be joyned with Pan, as being solacious, I know not; since Plutarch relates, that Drias, the daughter of Faunus, had such a particular abhorrence at the sight of men, that to avoid it, she declin'd all society, and at her Sacrifices, Males were prohibited to appear, unless this is spoken generally, and that story received as a particular exception.
8. The Ancients imagining the Moon subject to Incantations, used by beating of brass Basons, sounding of Trumpets, and all other clamorous means, to assist and recover, (as they thought) the Moon, labouring under an Eclipse.
9. Paros is an Iland amongst the Cyclades, ennobled for her excellent Marble.
Act the third.
Scene the first.
1. TRiptolemus was an Attick Prince, who (preinstructed by Ceres) taught the Athenians Agriculture.
2. The Sun entring into the Aequinoctiall sign of Lihra, makes a just aequality betwixt the day and night.
3. Cerberus is understood to be this Dog, a deformed Monster with three heads, and supposed by the Ancients, to be the Porter of Hell. Which Hercules in pursuance of Euristheus, his commands, brought away from Hell bound; at the same time he [...]eemed this our Theseus.
Scene the second.
1. Grecce being subject to Piracies and Invasions, in its more fertile part, the Territory of Athens being unfruitfull, was not so obnoxious to displanters; hence the Athenians boasted themselves to be aboriginall to that Country, and wore as an Emblem of it, golden Grashoppers upon their Bromes.
Scene the third.
1. See the Chorus of the first Act, number 5.
2. Phasis the greatest River of the Colchi, so much the more subject to an Epithete of Barbarisme, because it washeh the Country whence Medea had originall.
3. Aegeus the father of Theseus, had commanded him, if he returned successfull from the Minotaure, that the black sails of the returning Ship should be removed and white advanced. This Theseus forgetting; the mistaking father judging the event, suitable to the colour, precipitated himself from a Rock into the Sea, called from him Aegean. The Athenians, out of Gratitude to the father, and flattery to the son, reputed him translated into the God of the Sea.
4. Theseus had already enjoyed the benefit of two desires (the option of three being granted to him) the first was to be victorious over some barbarous Theeves then troubling Attica, the second, to evade the Labyrinth, and this third, that some Monster might destroy Hippolitus.
5. Stix an Arcadian River of a venomously cold quality, was by the Ancients supposed for a River in Hell, ofsuch a hor [...]id reverence with the Gods, that whoever assumed the name of that to assure a vow, durst not infringe it. He who violated the sanctity of this Oath, was to be devested of all divinity, and deprived of Nectar for one hundred years.
Chorus of the third Act.
1. For notwithstanding the opinion of Mathematicians, the Poles doe move with the universe.
2. The Sun in Leo causes more then usuall colours.
Act the fourth.
Scene the first.
1. COrus is a Wind usuall to the Sicilian Seas, which drives the Waves upon the Italian coasts.
2. Leucate is a Promontory in Acarnania.
3. The Ciclades are Ilands in the Aegenian Sea.
4. This prodigious floud arising, interposed betwixt us and the sight of Aesculapius his Temple, and those memorable Rocks called Sciro [...]ian, from Sciron an infamous Robber, who there died, there by the hand of Theseus.
5. In allusion to Theseus, who destroyed the Minotaure of a mixt shape, half man, and the rest like a Bull.
6. The history of Phaeton is common. Phaeton, that the Sun would by some act of indulgence, own him to be his issue, begs of Phoebus the guiding of his Chariot for one day, which being granted, he by his ignorance put all things in such a fear of conflagration, that Iupiter to ebriate the disorder, struck him out of the Chariot with a Thunder-bolt.
Chorus of the fourth Act.
1. Caucasus is a ledge of extream high Mountains in Asia dividing Scithia from India.
2. Ida is a Mountain of Phrigia.
3. At the invasion of the Giants.
4. Pluto was Uncle to Pallas, as brother to her father Iupiter, [...] if he lost an inhabitant of Theseus, recovered another by Hippolitus.
Act the fifth.
Scene the first.
1. SEe the third Scene, Act the third, numb. 3.
2. By his indiscrete credulity in believing Phaedra and his ra [...]h passion, in killing Antrope.
3. Scini [...] was an infamous theef, which tied passengers to trees forcibly bended together, which afterwards permitted to return to their naturall course, tare in Pieces all such as were held to them.
4. Procrustes of the same condition with [...]cinis, only varying something in cruelty; passengers, under colour of entertainment, were brought to a bed, which if they were too long, for by amputation of the extending part, they were equall, if too short, they with racks were stretch'd out even with it.
5. The Minotaure of Crete, formerly spoken of.
6. Dedalus made that Labyrinth.
7. It was a custome amongst the Ancients, at the interment of their friends, by way of testification of their sorrow, and in honour of the deceased to cover their faces, and cut off their hair, as if they took no delight in any ornament of Nature after the decease of those persons, in whom they placed their supream contentment.
8. Acheron (in English joyless) is a River imagined to receive, first the souls of the deceased, because at the Moment of death, a certain fatall sadness seiseth so on the Spirits, that an easy divination may be made of death approaching, for then the memory and conscience of past actions (the River which we must first pass over) puts our immortall part into an apprehension of sinking under the burthen.
9. Averna is a Lake in Campania, neer the Bajae, which because of the male-odoration of the air antiquity, supposed to be the first descent into Hell.
10. It seems those superstious ages ascribed severall descents into Hell, for Tonarus is here taken for it, at the straits whereof, Hercules descended thither, from whence he redeemed Theseus, and captivated Cerberus.
11. Leth [...] is another of those fabulously designed Rivers of which, whatever ghost tasted, an immediate forgetfuluess of [Page 60] all things past was its attendant; though in truth, Lethe is a River about the utmost extent of the Sirtes, which submerged and latent, for some miles breaks out again neer the City Berenice, from hence the wide-throated faith of the Ancient swallowd an opinion that it had his emergency from Hell.
12. Proteus a Sea God the son of Oceanus and Tethis, is said to feed Neptunes Sea-monsters, to be extream skilfull in divinations, and to transform himselfe into any shape.
13. Theseus imagining all places here, accuseth himself that in all places are full testiment of his guilt, in the shie Ariadnes constellation, witnesses his ingratitude in her trecherous desertion; Hell endures his accompanying Pyritheus thither, to assist his adultery upon Proserpine. The Sea accuseth him by his careless obedience to have sent his father precipitated thither.
14. Sisiphus for his numerous depredations upon Attica, was kill [...]d by Theseus. The Punishment aflicted upon him in Hell is supposed to be an injuctive taske to roule a great stone up to the top of a high Mountain, to which, when a [...]ved, by its relaxency to the bottom, it makes his labour still beginning, but never accomplish'd.
15. Titius endeavouring to ravish Latona, Apollos mother, was by Iupiter struck dead with Thunder, others say, kill'd by Apollo, his sufferings are said to be by a Vultur gnawing perpetually on his Liver, which undiminishably continues.
16. Ixion the father of Pyritheus taken up by Iupiter into Heaven entertained lustfull thoughts towards Iuno, of which Iupiter informed, framed a Cloud in the effigies of Iuno, upon which the deceived adulterer begot the Centaure, being returned to earth, he vaingloriously boasted of his embraces with the Queen of heaven▪ Iupiter to punish his violence, sunk him into h [...]l with a Thunder-bolt, where he is tied to a wheel and tormented with perpetuall circumrotation.
17. Those dead, of whom the Ancients had any cause to detest the memory, were usually followed with an imprecation that the earth might lie heavy on them, out of a strange conceipt that the soul (which they believed to be inhumed with the body) could slowly, if at all, remove to the seat of the happy, by reason of [...] depressure with such a weight.