The works of Sr William Davenant ... Consisting of Those which were formerly Printed, and Those which he design'd for the Press: Now published Out of the Authors Originall Copies |
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 | The works of Sr William Davenant |  |
The Entry of the Magicians.
Out of Caves from under ground come forth three Magicians, one more eminent than the rest, their habits of strange fashions, denoting their qualities, and their persons deformed.(1)
Tell me, thou wise Protector of our Art,
Why dost thou walk with such a hideous brow?
Darkness, and Clouds do hover o're thine eyes;
Thou look'st as thou hadst suck'd the vapor of
A poys'nous Fenne, till it has made thee drunk,
There's venom'd foam about thy lips.
(2.)
Is thy belov'd
Old witch, dead and entomb'd? or hast thou heard
Ill news from hell? Does the grand fiend
Chain up thy spirits from thy use? Speak, Art
Thou not within thy Circle still a Soveraign Prince?
When thou dost lift with magick power thy white
Inchanted Scepter thus, do not the thin
Unbodied people bow and obey?
(3.)
O the Temple of Love, the mists that hid,
And so reserv'd it from our sinful use,
(Whilst we seduc'd the more voluptuous race
Of Men, to give false worship in our own) must be
Dispell'd! this is the sad ill news; and it
Is come from Heaven! A troublesome Deity
(Whom forsooth they stile Divine Poesie)
This morne proclaim'd it from a falling Cloud.
(2.)
Who? Divine Poesie?
(3.)
I know her well.
(1.)
But who shall bring this mischief to our Art?
(3.)
Indamora, the delight of Destiny!
She, and the beauties of her Train; who sure
Though they discover Summer in their looks,
Still carry frozen Winter in their blood.
They raise strange doctrines, and new sects of Love:
Which must not woo or court the Person, but
The Mind; and practice generation not
Of Bodies but of Souls.
(2.)
Believe me, my Magical friends,
They must bring bodies with'em that worship
In our pleasant Temple: I have an odd
Fantastick faith perswades we there will be
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Your Spirit's a cold Companion at midnight.
(1.)
Have we so long mis-led and entertain'd
The youthful of the world, I mean their bodies)
And now do they betake themselves unto
The dull imaginary pleasures of
Their soules? This humor cannot last.
(2.)
If it should, we may rid our Temple
Of all our Persian Quilts, imbroyder'd Couches,
And our standing Beds; these (I take it) are
Bodily implements; our soules need 'em not.
But where shall this new Sect be planted first?
(3.)
In a dull Northern Ile, they call Britaine.
(2.)
Indeed 'tis a cold Northerly opinion;
And I'le lay my life begot since their late
Great Frosts; It will be long enough e're it
Shall spread, and prosper in the South! Or if
The Spaniard or Italian ever be
Perswaded out of the use of their bodies,
I'le give mine to a Raven for his Supper.
(3.)
The Miracle is more increas'd, in that
It first takes birth and nourishment in Court.
(2.)
But my good damn'd friend tell me? Is there not
One Courtier will resent the cause, and give
Some countenance to the affairs of the body?
(3.)
Certain young Lords at first disliked the Philosophy
As most uncomfortable, sad, and new;
But soon inclin'd to a superior vote,
And are grown as good Platonical Lovers
As are to be found in an Hermitage, where he
That was born last, reckons above fourscore.
To these come forth in hast another Magician, in shape and habit differing from the other, and spake as followeth.
(1.)
Here comes a brother of our mistick Tribe!
(3.)
He knows th'occasion of our grief, and by
His hast imports discoveries more strange!
(4.)
News! news! my sad companions of the shade!
There's lately landed on our fatal shore
Nine Persian youths, their habit and their looks
So smooth, that from the Pleasures i'th Elisian fields
Each female ghost will come, and enter in
Their flesh again, to make embraces warm.
(2.)
I hope these are no Platonical Lovers,
No such Carthusian Poets as do write
Madrigals to the mind? more of thy news!
(4.)
The rest infers small joy, and little hope:
For though at first their youth and eager thoughts
Directed them where our gay Altar stood,
And they were ready too for sacrifice,
I cannot tell what luckless light inform'd
Their eyes, but Loves true Temple straight they spy'd
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To read grave frosty Homilies,
And antick laws of chastity, but that
(As my swift Spirit brought me word) a voyce
Sent from within bad them with reverence
Desist till Indamora did appear, for then
The Gates would open, and the mists dry up:
That thus conceal'd it from the general view,
Which now their expectation doth attend.
(3.)
'Tis time to wake our drowsie Art, and try,
If we have power to hinder Destiny.
Mount! mount! our charmes! fetch me, whilst you aspire,
A Spirit of the Element of fire!
(2.)
Me one of Ayre!
(1.)
The water me supplies!
(4.)
Mine from the center of the earth shall rise!
(3.)
These shall infuse their sev'ral qualities
In men; if not t'uphold the faction of
The flesh, yet to infect the queasie age
With blacker Sins: if we (now we have joyn'd
The force of all the Elements t'assist
The horror of our will) shall not prevail
Against this hum'rous vertue of the Time,
Nature, our weakness must be thought thy crime.
2.
To these I'le add a sect of modern Divels;
Fine precise Fiends, that hear the devout close
At ev'ry vertue but their own, that claim
Chambers and Tenements in heaven, as they
Had purchas'd there, and all the Angels were
Their harbingers. With these I'le vex the world.
(3.)
'Tis well design'd! Thanks to thy courteous Art!
Let's murmure softly in each others ear,
And those we first invok'd, will straight appear!
Enough! they come! to'th woods let's take our flight,
We have more dismal business yet e're night.
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