The Workes of Benjamin Jonson | ||
PART OF THE KINGS ENTERTAINMENT, IN PASSING TO HIS CORONATION.
The speeches of Gratulation.
GENIUS.Time, Fate, and Fortune have at length conspir'd,
To give our Age the day so much desir'd.
What all the minutes, houres, weekes, months, and yeares,
That hang in file upon these silver haires,
Could not produce, beneath the Britaine stroke,
The Roman, Saxon, Dane, and Norman yoke,
This point of Time hath done. Now London, reare
Thy forehead high, and on it strive to weare
Thy choisest gems; teach thy steepe Towres to rise
Higher with people: set with sparkling eyes
Thy spacious windowes; and in every street,
Let thronging joy, love, and amazement meet.
Cleave all the ayre with shouts, and let the cry
Strike through as long, and universally,
As thunder; for, thou now art blist to see
That sight, for which thou didst begin to bee.
When
Rather than the Citie should want a Founder, wee choose to follow the received storie of Brute, whether fabulous, or true; and not altogether unwarranted in Poetry: since it is a favor of Antiquitie to few Cities, to let them know their first Authors. Besides, a learned Poet of our time, in a most elegant Work of his Con. Tam. & Isis, celebrating London, hath this verse of her: Æmula maternæ tollens sua lumina Troie..
Here is also an ancient rite alluded to in the building of Cities, which was, to give them their bounds with a plough, according to Virg. Aen. lib. 10. Interea Aeneas urbem designat Aratro. And Isidore, lib. 15. cap. 2. Urbs vocata ab orbe, quod antiquæ civitates in orbem fiebant; vel ab urbo parte aratri, quo muri designabantur, unde est illud. Optauitque locum regno & concludere sulco.
And I, thy Genius walkt auspicious rounds
And saw this day
For so all happie dayes were. Plin. cap. 40. lib. 7. Nat. Hist. To which Horace alludes, lib. 1. Ode 36. Cressâ ne careat pulchra dies nota. And the other, Plin. epist. 11 lib. 6. O diem lætum, notandumque mihi candidissimo calculo. With many other in many places. Mart. lib. 8. epist. 45. lib. 9. epist. 53. lib. 10. 38 lib. 11. 37. Stat. lib. 4. Syl. 6. Pers. Sat. 2. Catull. Epig. 69. &c.
The Parcæ, or Fates, Martianus calls them scribas ac librarias superum; whereof Clotho is said to be the eldest, signifying in Latine Eucatio.
The severall
Those before mentioned of the Britaine, Roman, Saxon, &c. and to this Register of the Fates allude those verses of Ovid Met. 15.—Cernes illic molimine vasio, Ex aerae, & solido rerum tabularia ferro: Que neque concussum cœli, neque fulminis Iram, Nec metuunt ullas tuta atque aeterna ruinas, Inuenies illis incisa adamante perenni Fata &c.—
Within this Isle, there also figur'd lay:
Of which the greatest, perfectest, and last
Was this, whose present happinesse we tast.
Why keepe you silence daughters? What dull peace
Is this inhabits you? Shall office cease
Upon th'aspect of him, to whom you owe
More than you are, or can be? Shall Time know
That article, wherein your flame stood still,
And not aspir'd? Now heaven avert an ill
Of that black looke. Ere pause possesse your brests
I wish you more of plagues: “Zeale when it rests,
Leaves to be zeale. Up thou tame River, wake;
And from thy liquid limbes this slumber shake:
Thou drown'st thy selfe in inofficious sleepe;
And these thy sluggish waters seeme to creepe,
Rather than flow. Up, rise, and swell with pride
Above thy bankes. “Now is not every tide.
TAMESIS.
To what vaine end should I contend to show
My weaker powers, when seas of pompe o'reflow
The Cities face: and cover all the shore
With sands more rich than Tagus wealthy ore?
When in the floud of joy, that comes with him,
He drownes the world; yet makes it live and swimme,
And spring with gladnesse: not my fishes here,
Though they be dumbe, but doe expresse the cheere
Of these bright streames. No lesse may these, and I
Boast our delights, albe't we silent lie.
GENIUS.
Joy bred, and borne but in the tongue, is weake.
Yet (lest the fervour of so pure a flame
As this my Citie beares, might lose the name,
Without the apt eventing of her heat)
Know greatest James (and no lesse good, than great,)
In the behalfe of all my vertuous sonnes,
Whereof my eldest there, thy pompe fore-runnes,
As worthy, as he's blest to be thy guide)
In his grave name, and all his brethrens right,
(Who thirst to drink the nectar of thy sight)
The Councell, Commoners, and multitude;
(Glad, that this day so long deny'd, is view'd)
I tender thee the heartiest welcome, yet
That ever King had to his Empires seat:
Never came man, more long'd for, more desir'd:
And being come, more reverenc'd, lov'd, admir'd:
Heare, and record it: “In a Prince it is
“No little vertue, to know who are his.
This springing glory of thy god-like race;
His Countries wonder, hope, love, joy and pride:
How well doth hee become the royall side
Of this erected, and broad spreading Tree,
Under whose shade, may Britaine ever be.
And from this Branch, may thousand Branches more
Shoot o're the maine, and knit with every shore
In bonds of marriage, kinred, and increase;
And stile this land, the navill of their peace.
This is your servants wish, your Cities vow,
Which still shall propagate it selfe, with you;
And free from spurres of hope, that slow minds move:
“He seekes no hire, that owes his life to love.
In this dayes greatnesse, than in my glad heart.
Glory of Queenes, and glory of your name,
Whose graces doe as farre out-speak your fame,
As Fame doth silence, when her trumpet rings
You daughter, sister, wife of severall Kings:
Besides alliance, and the stile of mother,
In which one title you drowne all your other.
Instance, be that faire shoot, is gone before,
Your eldest joy, and top of all your store,
With those, whose sight to us is yet deny'd,
But not our zeale to them, or ought beside
This Citie can to you: For whose estate
Shee hopes you will be still good advocate
To her best Lord. So, whilst you mortall are,
No taste of sowre mortalitie once dare
Approach your house; nor fortune greet your Grace,
But comming on, and with a forward face.
Dar'st kindle stranger, and un-hallowed fire
Upon this Altar?
Fl.
Rather what art thou
That dar'st so rudely interrupt my vow?
My habit speakes my name.
Ge.
A Flamen?
Fl.
Yes,
And Martialis call'd.
Ge.
I so did ghesse
By my short view; but whence didst thou ascend
Hither? or how? or to what mystick end?
Fl.
The noyse, and present tumult of this day,
Rowsd me from sleep, and silence, where I lay
Obscur'd from light; which when I wakt to see,
I wondring thought what this great pompe might bee.
When (looking in my Kalender) I found
The Ides of March were entred, and I bound
With these, to celebrate the geniall feast
Of
Who this Anna should be (with the Romans themselves) hath been no trifling controversie. Some have thought her fabulously the sister of Dido, some a Nymph of Numicius, some Io, some Themis. Others an old woman of Bovilla, that fed the seditious multitude, in Monte sacro, with wafers, and fine cakes, in time of their penurie: To whom, afterward (in memory of the benefit) their peace being made with the nobles, they ordayned this feast. Yet, they that have thought nearest, have mist all these, and directly imagined her the Moone. And that shee was called ANNA. Quia mensibus impleat annum, Ovid. ibid. To which, the vow that they used in her rites, somewhat confirmingly alludes which was, Ut Annare, & Perannare commode liceret, Mocr. Sat. lib. 1. cap. 12.
To banquet at his altars; and instal'd
A goddesse with him, since she fils the yeare,
And knits the oblique scarfe that girts the spheare.
Whilest fourefac'd Janus turnes his vernall look
Upon their meeting houres, as if he took
High pride and pleasure.
Ge.
Sure thou still dost dreame,
And both thy tongue, and thought rides on the streame
Of phantasie: Behold here he nor she,
Have any altar, fane, or deity.
Stoope: read but this inscription: and then view
To whom the place is consecrate. 'Tis true
That this is Janus temple, and that now
He turnes upon the yeare his freshest brow:
That this is Mars his month; and these the Ides,
Wherein his Anne was honor'd; both the tides,
Titles, and place, we know: but these dead rites
Are long since buryed, and new power excites
More high and hearty flames. Loe, there is he,
Who brings with him a greater Anne than she:
Whose strong and potent vertues have defac'd
Sterne Mars his statues, and upon them plac'd
His, and the Worlds blest blessings: This hath brought
Sweet peace to sit in that bright State she ought,
Unbloody, or untroubled; hath forc'd hence
All tumults, feares, or other dark portents
That might invade weak minds; hath made men see
Once more the face of welcome liberty:
And doth (in all his present acts) restore
That first pure World, made of the better ore.
Now innocence shall cease to be the spoyle
Of ravenous greatnesse, or to steep the soyle
Of raysed pesantry with teares, and blood;
No more shall rich men (for their little good)
Suspected to be made guilty; or vile spies
Enjoy the lust of their so murdring eyes:
Men shall put off their yron minds, and hearts;
The time forget his old malicious arts
With this new minute; and no print remaine
Of what was thought the former ages staine.
Back, Flamen, with thy superstitious fumes,
And cense not here; Thy ignorance presumes
Too much, in acting any Ethnick rite
In this translated temple: here no wight,
To sacrifice, save my devotion comes,
That brings in stead of those thy
Somewhat a strāge Epithite in our tongue, but proper to the thing: for they were only Masculine odors, which were offerd to the Altars, Vir. Ecl. 8. Verbenasq adole pingueis, & mascula Tura. And Plin. Nat. Hist. lib. 12. cap. 14. speaking of these, hath Quod ex eo rotunditate guttæ pependit, Masculum vocamus, cum alias non ferè mas vocetur, ubi non sit fœmina: religioni tributum ne sexus alter usurparetur. Masculum aliqui putant à specie testium dictum. See him also, lib. 34. cap. 11. And, Aruch. lib. 7. advers. Gent. Non si mille tu pondera masculi tharis incendas, &c.
Upon this Altar, and no time shall turne
The same to ashes: here I fixe it fast,
Flame bright, flame high, and may it ever last.
Whilst I, before the figure of thy peace,
Still tend the fire; and give it quick increase
With prayers, wishes, vows; whereof be these
The least, and weakest: that no age may leese
The memory of this so rich a day;
But rather, that it henceforth yearely may
Begin our spring, and with our spring the prime,
And
According to Romulus his institutiō, who made March the first month, and consecrated it to his father, of whom it was called Martius. Varro. Fest. in Frag. Martius mensis initium anni fuit, & in Latio, & post Romani conditam, &c. And Ovid. Fast. 3. A te principium Romano dicimus anno: Primus de patrio nomine mensis erit. Vox rata sit, &c. See Macr. lib. 1. Sat. cap. 12. and Solin. in Poly. Hist. cap. 3. Quòd hoc mense mercedes exolverint magistris, quas completas annus deberi feoffet, &c.
Some, to whom we have read this, have taken it for a Tautologie, thinking Time enough expressed before in yeares, and months. For whose ignorant sakes we must confesse to have taken the better part of this travaile in noting, a thing not usuall, neither affected of us, but where there is necessity, as here, to avoid their dull censures: where in yeares and months we alluded to that is observed in our former note: but by Time we understand the present, and that from this instant, we should begin to reckon and make this the first, of our time. Which is also to be helpe by Emphasis.
And may these Ides as fortunate appeare
To thee, as they to Cæsar fatall were.
Be all thy thoughts borne perfect, and thy hopes
In their events still crown'd beyond their scopes.
Let not wide heav'n that secret blessing know
To give, which she on thee will not bestow.
Blind Fortune be thy slave; and may her store
(The lesse thou seek'st it) follow thee the more.
Much more I would: but see, these brazen gates
Make haste to close, as urged by thy fates;
Here ends my Cities office, here it breakes:
Yet with my tongue, and this pure heart, she speakes
A short farewell; and lower than thy feet,
With fervent thankes, thy Royall paines doth greet.
Pardon, if my abruptnesse breed disease;
“He merits not t'offend, that hastes to please.
THE SPEECH.
ELECTRA.Are dried; and now mine eyes run teares of joy.
No more shall men suppose Electra dead,
Though from the consort of her sisters fled
Unto the Artick circle, here to grace,
And gild this day with her serenest face:
And see, my daughter Iris hastes to throw
Her roseat wings in compasse of a bow,
Attracting to her seate from Mithras coach,
A thousand different, and particular hiewes,
Which she throughout her body doth diffuse.
The Sun, as loth to part from this halfe Spheare,
Stands still; and Phœbe labors to appeare
In all as bright (if not as rich) as he:
And, for a note of more serenity,
My six faire sisters hither shift their lights;
To do this hower the utmost of her rites.
Where lest the captious, or prophane might doubt,
How these cleare heavenly bodies come about
All to be seen at once; yet neithers light
Eclips'd, or shadow'd by the others sight:
Let ignorance know, great King, this day is thine,
And doth admit no night; but all do shine
As well nocturnall, as diurnall fires,
To adde unto the flame of our desires.
Which are (now thou hast closd up Janus gates,
And giv'n so generall peace to all Estates)
That no offensive mist, or cloudy staine
May mixe with splendor of thy golden raigne;
But, as th'ast free'd thy Chamber, from the noyse
Of war and tumult; thou wilt powre those joyes
Upon this place, which claimes to be the seate
Of all the kingly race: the cabinet
To all thy counsels; and the judging chaire
To this thy speciall Kingdome. Who so faire
And wholsome laws, in every Court, shall strive
By Æquity, and their first innocence to thrive;
The base and guilty bribes of guiltier men
Shall be thrown back, and Justice look, as when
She lov'd the earth, and fear'd not to be sold
For that, which worketh all things to it, gold.
Shall here locke down her jaws, and that rude vice
Of ignorant, and pittied greatnesse, pride,
Decline with shame; ambition now shall hide
Her face in dust, as dedicate to sleep,
That in great portals wont her watch to keep.
All ils shall fly the light: Thy Court be free
No lesse from envy, than from flattery;
All tumult, faction, and harsh discord cease,
That might perturbe the musick of thy peace:
The querulous nature shall no longer finde
Room for his thoughts: One pure consent of minde
Shall flow in every brest, and not the ayre,
Sun, Moon, or Stars shine more serenely faire.
Who here, and first, pronounc'd thee Brittaines King.
Long maist thou live, and see me thus appeare,
As ominous
For our more authorite to induce her thus, See Fest. Auien paraph. in Arat. speaking of Electra, Nonquam Oceani tamen istam surgere ab undis, In convexa poli, sed sede carere sororum; Atque os discretum procul edere, deteflatam. Germanosque chores sobolis lachrymare ruinas Diffusomq comas cerni, crinisque soluti Monstrari effigie, &c.
Unto thy raigne; as that
All Comets were not fatall, some were forunately ominous, as this to which we allude; and wherefore we have Plinies testimony. Nat. Histo. lib. 2 cap. 25. Cometes in uno totius orbis loco colitur in templo Romæ, admodum faustus Diuo Augusto judicatus ab ipso: qui incipiente eo, apparuit ludis quos faciebat Veneri G{a}trici, non multò post obitum patris Cæsaris, in colegio ab eo, instituto. Namque his verbis id gaudium prodidit. Iis ipsis Judorum meorum diebus, sydus crinitum per septem dies in regione Cœli, quæ sub Septentrionibus est, conspectum. Id oriebatur circa undecimam horam diei, clarumque & omnibus terris conspicuum fuit. Eo sydere significari vulgus credidit, Cæsaris animam inter Deorum immortalium numina receptam: quo nomine id insigne simulacro capitis, ejus, quod mox in foro consecravimus, adjectum est. Hæc ille in publicum, interiore gaudio sibi illum, natum seq in eo nasci interpretatus est. Et si verum satemur, salutare id terris fuit.
So lasting glory to Augustus State.
The Workes of Benjamin Jonson | ||