The Whole Works of William Browne of Tavistock ... Now first collected and edited, with a memoir of the poet, and notes, by W. Carew Hazlitt, of the Inner Temple |
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 | The Whole Works of William Browne |  |
Further his plainte had gone (if needed more),
But Celadyne, now widing more the dore,
Made a small noyse, which startling up the man,
He streight descryde him, and anewe began:
What sorrowe, or what curiositie,
Saye (if thou be a man), conducted thee
Into these darke and unfrequented cells,
Where nought but I and dreadfull horror dwells?
Or if thou be a ghost, for pitty saye
What powre, what chance, hath ledd thee to this way?
If soe thou be a man, there can nought come
From them to me, unlesse yt be a tombe,
And that I holde already. See! I have
Sufficient too to lend a king a grave,
A blest one too, within these hollowe vaults;
Earth hydes but bodyes, but oblivion, faults.
Or if thou be a ghost sent from above,
Saye, is not blessed virtue and faire love,
Faith and just gratitude, rewarded there?
Alas! I knowe they be: I knowe they weare
Crownes of such glory, that their smallest ray
Can make us lend th' Antipodes a daye:
Nay, change our spheare, and need noe more the sun
Then those that have that light whence all begun.
But Celadyne, now widing more the dore,
Made a small noyse, which startling up the man,
142
What sorrowe, or what curiositie,
Saye (if thou be a man), conducted thee
Into these darke and unfrequented cells,
Where nought but I and dreadfull horror dwells?
Or if thou be a ghost, for pitty saye
What powre, what chance, hath ledd thee to this way?
If soe thou be a man, there can nought come
From them to me, unlesse yt be a tombe,
And that I holde already. See! I have
Sufficient too to lend a king a grave,
A blest one too, within these hollowe vaults;
Earth hydes but bodyes, but oblivion, faults.
Or if thou be a ghost sent from above,
Saye, is not blessed virtue and faire love,
Faith and just gratitude, rewarded there?
Alas! I knowe they be: I knowe they weare
Crownes of such glory, that their smallest ray
Can make us lend th' Antipodes a daye:
Nay, change our spheare, and need noe more the sun
Then those that have that light whence all begun.
Staye further inquisition, quoth the swayne,
And knowe I am a man, and of that trayne
Which neer the westerne rivers feed their flocks.
I need not make me knowne; for if the rocks
Can holde a sculpture, or the powre of verse
Preserve a name, the last-borne maye reherse
Me and my fortunes. Curiositie
Lead me not hither: chance, in seeing thee,
Gave me the thread, and by it I am come
To finde a living man within a tombe.
Thy plaints I have oreheard; and lett it be
Noe wrong to them that they were heard of me.
Maye be that heavens great providence hath ledd
Me to these horrid caves of night and dread,
That, as in phisicke by some signature
Nature herselfe doth pointe us out a cure:
The liverwort is by industrious art
Knowne phisicall and soveraigne for that part
Which it resembles; and if we applye
The eye-bright by the like unto the eye,
Why mayst not thou (disconsolate) as well
From me receave a cure, since in me dwell
All those sadd wrongs the world hath throwne on thee;
Which wrought soe much on my proclivitie,
That I have entertayn'd them, and th' are growne
And soe incorporated, and myne owne,
That griefe, elixir like, hath turn'd me all
Into itselfe; and therefore phisicall?
For if in herbes there lye this misterie,
Saye, why in other bodyes maye not we
Promise ourselves the like? why shouldst not thou
Expect the like from me this instant now?
And more, since heaven hath made me for thy cure
Both the phisitian and the signature.
And knowe I am a man, and of that trayne
Which neer the westerne rivers feed their flocks.
I need not make me knowne; for if the rocks
Can holde a sculpture, or the powre of verse
Preserve a name, the last-borne maye reherse
Me and my fortunes. Curiositie
Lead me not hither: chance, in seeing thee,
Gave me the thread, and by it I am come
To finde a living man within a tombe.
Thy plaints I have oreheard; and lett it be
Noe wrong to them that they were heard of me.
Maye be that heavens great providence hath ledd
Me to these horrid caves of night and dread,
That, as in phisicke by some signature
143
The liverwort is by industrious art
Knowne phisicall and soveraigne for that part
Which it resembles; and if we applye
The eye-bright by the like unto the eye,
Why mayst not thou (disconsolate) as well
From me receave a cure, since in me dwell
All those sadd wrongs the world hath throwne on thee;
Which wrought soe much on my proclivitie,
That I have entertayn'd them, and th' are growne
And soe incorporated, and myne owne,
That griefe, elixir like, hath turn'd me all
Into itselfe; and therefore phisicall?
For if in herbes there lye this misterie,
Saye, why in other bodyes maye not we
Promise ourselves the like? why shouldst not thou
Expect the like from me this instant now?
And more, since heaven hath made me for thy cure
Both the phisitian and the signature.
Ah! Celadyne, quoth he, and thinck't not strange
I call thee by thy name; thoughe tymes now change
Makes thee forgett what myne is, with my voyce
I have recorded thyne: and if the choice
Of all our swaynes, which by the westerne rills
Feed their white flocks and tune their oaten quills,
Were with me now, thou onely art the man
Whome I woulde chuse for my phisitian.
The others I would thancke and wishe awaye.
There needs but one sun to bring in the daye,
Nor but one Celadyne to cleere my night
Of discontent, if any humane wight
Can reach that possibilitye: but know
My griefes admitt noe parallax; they goe,
Like to the fixed starres, in such a spheare,
Soe hye from meaner woes and cōmon care
That thou canst never any distance take
'Twixt myne and others woes; and till thou make
And knowe a diff'rence in my saddest fate,
The cause, the station and the ling'ring date,
From other men which are in griefe oregone
(Since it is best read by comparison),
Thou never canst attayne the least degree
Of hope to worke a remedye on me.
I call thee by thy name; thoughe tymes now change
Makes thee forgett what myne is, with my voyce
I have recorded thyne: and if the choice
Of all our swaynes, which by the westerne rills
Feed their white flocks and tune their oaten quills,
Were with me now, thou onely art the man
Whome I woulde chuse for my phisitian.
The others I would thancke and wishe awaye.
There needs but one sun to bring in the daye,
Nor but one Celadyne to cleere my night
Of discontent, if any humane wight
Can reach that possibilitye: but know
My griefes admitt noe parallax; they goe,
Like to the fixed starres, in such a spheare,
Soe hye from meaner woes and cōmon care
That thou canst never any distance take
144
And knowe a diff'rence in my saddest fate,
The cause, the station and the ling'ring date,
From other men which are in griefe oregone
(Since it is best read by comparison),
Thou never canst attayne the least degree
Of hope to worke a remedye on me.
I knowe to whome I speake. On Isis banckes,
And melancholy Charwell, neere the rancks
Of shading willowes, often have we layne
And heard the muses and Apollos strayne
In heavenly raptures, as the powres on highe
Had there been lecturers of poesye,
And natures searcher, deepe philosophy;
Yet neither these, nor any other art
Can yeeld a meanes to cure my wounded heart.
Staye then from losing longer tyme on me,
And in these deepe caves of obscuritie
Spend some fewe howres to see what is not knowne
Above; but on the wings of rumor blowne.
Heere is the faeries' court (if soe they be)
(With that he rose); come neere, and thou shalt see
Whoe are my neighbours. And with that he leadd
(With such a pace as lovers use to treade
Neere sleeping parents) by the hand the swayne
Unto a pritty seate, neer which these twayne
By a rounde little hole had soone descryde
A trim feate roome, about a fathome wide,
As much in height, and twice as much in length,
Out of the mayne rocke cutt by artfull strength.
The two-leav'd doore was of the mother pearle,
Hinged and nayl'd with golde. Full many a girle,
Of the sweet faierye ligne, wrought in the loome
That fitted those rich hangings cladd the roome.
In them was wrought the love of their great king,
His triumphs, dances, sports, and revelling:
And learned Spenser, on a little hill
Curiously wroughte, laye, as he tun'de his quill;
The floore could of respect complayne noe losse,
But neatly cover'd with discolour'd mosse,
Woven into storyes, might for such a peece
Vye with the richest carpetts brought from Greece.
And melancholy Charwell, neere the rancks
Of shading willowes, often have we layne
And heard the muses and Apollos strayne
In heavenly raptures, as the powres on highe
Had there been lecturers of poesye,
And natures searcher, deepe philosophy;
Yet neither these, nor any other art
Can yeeld a meanes to cure my wounded heart.
Staye then from losing longer tyme on me,
And in these deepe caves of obscuritie
Spend some fewe howres to see what is not knowne
Above; but on the wings of rumor blowne.
Heere is the faeries' court (if soe they be)
(With that he rose); come neere, and thou shalt see
Whoe are my neighbours. And with that he leadd
(With such a pace as lovers use to treade
Neere sleeping parents) by the hand the swayne
Unto a pritty seate, neer which these twayne
By a rounde little hole had soone descryde
A trim feate roome, about a fathome wide,
As much in height, and twice as much in length,
Out of the mayne rocke cutt by artfull strength.
The two-leav'd doore was of the mother pearle,
Hinged and nayl'd with golde. Full many a girle,
Of the sweet faierye ligne, wrought in the loome
That fitted those rich hangings cladd the roome.
In them was wrought the love of their great king,
His triumphs, dances, sports, and revelling:
145
Curiously wroughte, laye, as he tun'de his quill;
The floore could of respect complayne noe losse,
But neatly cover'd with discolour'd mosse,
Woven into storyes, might for such a peece
Vye with the richest carpetts brought from Greece.
A little mushrome (that was now growne thinner,
By being one tyme shaven for the dinner
Of one of Spaines grave grandis, and that daye
Out of his greatnesse larder stolne awaye,
By a more nimble elfe then are their witts,
Whoe practice truth as seldom as their spitts)—
This mushrome (on a frame of waxe y-pight,
Wherein was wrought the strange and cruell fight
Betwixt the troublous comonwealth of flyes,
And the slye spider with industrious thighes)
Serv'd for a table; then a little elfe
(If possible, far lesser then itselfe),
Brought in the covering made of white rose leaves,
And (wrought together with the spinners sleaves)
Mett in the tables middle in right angles;
The trenchers were of little silver spangles:
The salt the small bone of a fishes backe,
Whereon in little was exprest the wracke
Of that deplored mouse, from whence hath sprung
That furious battle Homer whilome sung,
Betwixt the frogs and mice: soe neately wrought
Yet coulde not worke it lesser in a thought.
Then on the table, for their bread, was put
The milke-white kernells of the hazell nutt;
The cupboord, suteable to all the rest,
Was as the table with like cov'ring drest.
The ewre and bason were, as fitting well,
A perriwinckle and a cockle-shell:
The glasses pure, and thinner then we can
See from the sea-betroth'd Venetian,
Were all of ice not made to overlast
One supper, and betwixt two cow-slipps cast:
A prittyer fashion hath not yet been tolde,
Soe neate the glasse was, and so feate the molde.
By being one tyme shaven for the dinner
Of one of Spaines grave grandis, and that daye
Out of his greatnesse larder stolne awaye,
By a more nimble elfe then are their witts,
Whoe practice truth as seldom as their spitts)—
This mushrome (on a frame of waxe y-pight,
Wherein was wrought the strange and cruell fight
Betwixt the troublous comonwealth of flyes,
And the slye spider with industrious thighes)
Serv'd for a table; then a little elfe
(If possible, far lesser then itselfe),
Brought in the covering made of white rose leaves,
And (wrought together with the spinners sleaves)
Mett in the tables middle in right angles;
The trenchers were of little silver spangles:
The salt the small bone of a fishes backe,
Whereon in little was exprest the wracke
Of that deplored mouse, from whence hath sprung
That furious battle Homer whilome sung,
Betwixt the frogs and mice: soe neately wrought
Yet coulde not worke it lesser in a thought.
Then on the table, for their bread, was put
The milke-white kernells of the hazell nutt;
The cupboord, suteable to all the rest,
Was as the table with like cov'ring drest.
The ewre and bason were, as fitting well,
A perriwinckle and a cockle-shell:
The glasses pure, and thinner then we can
See from the sea-betroth'd Venetian,
146
One supper, and betwixt two cow-slipps cast:
A prittyer fashion hath not yet been tolde,
Soe neate the glasse was, and so feate the molde.
A little spruce elfe then (just of the sett
Of the French dancer or such marionett)
Cladd in a sute of rush, woven like a matt,
A monkeshood flowre then serving for a hatt;
Under a cloake made of the spiders loome:
This faiery (with them helde a lusty groome)
Brought in his bottles; neater were there none,
And every bottle was a cherrystone.
To each a seed pearle served for a screwe,
And most of them were fill'd with early dewe.
Some choicer ones, as for the king most meet,
Held mel-dewe and the hony-suckles sweet.
Of the French dancer or such marionett)
Cladd in a sute of rush, woven like a matt,
A monkeshood flowre then serving for a hatt;
Under a cloake made of the spiders loome:
This faiery (with them helde a lusty groome)
Brought in his bottles; neater were there none,
And every bottle was a cherrystone.
To each a seed pearle served for a screwe,
And most of them were fill'd with early dewe.
Some choicer ones, as for the king most meet,
Held mel-dewe and the hony-suckles sweet.
All things thus fitted; streightways follow'd in
A case of small musitians, with a dynne
Of little hautboys, whereon each one strives
To shewe his skill; they all were made of syves,
Excepting one, which pufte the players face,
And was a chibole, serving for the base.
A case of small musitians, with a dynne
Of little hautboys, whereon each one strives
To shewe his skill; they all were made of syves,
Excepting one, which pufte the players face,
And was a chibole, serving for the base.
Then came the service. The first dishes were
In white brothe boylde, a crammed grashopper;
A pismire roasted whole; five crayfish eggs;
The udder of a mouse; two hornetts leggs;
In steed of olyves, cleanly pickl'd sloes;
Then of a batt were serv'd the petty-toes;
Three fleas in souse; a criquet from the bryne;
And of a dormouse, last, a lusty chyne.
In white brothe boylde, a crammed grashopper;
A pismire roasted whole; five crayfish eggs;
The udder of a mouse; two hornetts leggs;
In steed of olyves, cleanly pickl'd sloes;
Then of a batt were serv'd the petty-toes;
Three fleas in souse; a criquet from the bryne;
And of a dormouse, last, a lusty chyne.
Tell me, thou grandi, Spaines magnifico,
Could'st thou ere intertayne a monarch soe,
Without exhausting most thy rents and fees,
Tolde by a hundred thowsand marvedies,
That bragging poore accompt? If we should heere
Some one relate his incomes every yeare
To be five hundred thousand farthings tolde,
Coulde yee refrayne from laughter? coulde yee holde?
Or see a miser sitting downe to dyne
On some poore spratt new squeesed from the bryne,
Take out his spectakles, and with them eate,
To make his dish seeme larger and more greate.
Or else to make his golde its worth surpasse,
Woulde see it throughe a multiplying glasse:
Such are there auditts; such their highe esteemes;
A Spanyard is still lesse then what he seemes:
Lesse wise, less potent; rich, but glorious;
Prouder then any and more treacherous.
But lett us leave the bragadochio heere,
And turne to better company and cheere.
Could'st thou ere intertayne a monarch soe,
Without exhausting most thy rents and fees,
Tolde by a hundred thowsand marvedies,
That bragging poore accompt? If we should heere
Some one relate his incomes every yeare
147
Coulde yee refrayne from laughter? coulde yee holde?
Or see a miser sitting downe to dyne
On some poore spratt new squeesed from the bryne,
Take out his spectakles, and with them eate,
To make his dish seeme larger and more greate.
Or else to make his golde its worth surpasse,
Woulde see it throughe a multiplying glasse:
Such are there auditts; such their highe esteemes;
A Spanyard is still lesse then what he seemes:
Lesse wise, less potent; rich, but glorious;
Prouder then any and more treacherous.
But lett us leave the bragadochio heere,
And turne to better company and cheere.
The first course thus serv'd in, next follow'd on
The faierye nobles, ushering Oberon,
Their mighty king, a prince of subtill powre,
Cladd in a sute of speckled gilliflowre.
His hatt by some choice master in the trade
Was (like a helmett) of a lilly made.
His ruffe a daizie was, soe neately trimme,
As if of purpose it had growne for him.
His points were of the lady-grasse, in streakes,
And all were tagg'd, as fitt, with titmouse beakes.
His girdle, not three tymes as broade as thinne,
Was of a little trouts selfe-spangled skinne.
His bootes (for he was booted at that tyde),
Were fittly made of halfe a squirrells hyde.
His cloake was of the velvett flowres, and lynde
With flowre-de-lices of the choicest kinde.
The faierye nobles, ushering Oberon,
Their mighty king, a prince of subtill powre,
Cladd in a sute of speckled gilliflowre.
His hatt by some choice master in the trade
Was (like a helmett) of a lilly made.
His ruffe a daizie was, soe neately trimme,
As if of purpose it had growne for him.
His points were of the lady-grasse, in streakes,
And all were tagg'd, as fitt, with titmouse beakes.
His girdle, not three tymes as broade as thinne,
Was of a little trouts selfe-spangled skinne.
His bootes (for he was booted at that tyde),
Were fittly made of halfe a squirrells hyde.
His cloake was of the velvett flowres, and lynde
With flowre-de-lices of the choicest kinde.
Downe sate the king; his nobles did attend;
And after some repaste he gan commend
Their hawkes and sporte. This in a brave place flewe:
That bird too soone was taken from the mewe:
This came well throughe the fowle, and quick againe
Made a brave point streight up upon her trayne.
Another for a driver none came nye;
And such a hawke truss'd well the butterfly.
That was the quarry which their pastime crownde;
Their hawkes were wagtayles, most of them mew'd rounde.
And after some repaste he gan commend
Their hawkes and sporte. This in a brave place flewe:
That bird too soone was taken from the mewe:
This came well throughe the fowle, and quick againe
Made a brave point streight up upon her trayne.
148
And such a hawke truss'd well the butterfly.
That was the quarry which their pastime crownde;
Their hawkes were wagtayles, most of them mew'd rounde.
Then of their coursers' speed, sure-footing pace,
Their next discourse was; as that famous race,
Ingend'red by the wynde, coulde not compare
With theirs, noe more then coulde a Flemish mare
With those fleet steeds that are so quickly hurl'd,
And make but one dayes journey rounde the world.
Naye, in their praises, some one durst to run
Soe farre to say, that if the glorious sun
Should lame a horse, he must come from the spheares
And furnish up his teame with one of theirs.
Those that did heare them vaunte their excellence
Beyonde all value with such confidence,
Stoode wond'ring how such little elfes as these
Durst venture on soe greate hyperboles;
But more upon such horses. But it ceast
(I mean the wonder) when each nam'd his beaste.
My nimble squirrell (quoth the king), and then
Pinching his hatt is but a minutes ken.
The earth ran speedy from him, and I dare
Saye, if it have a motion circular,
I coulde have run it rounde ere she had done
The halfe of her circumvolution.
Her motion, lik'd with myne, should almost be
As Saturnes, myne the primum mobile.
Then, looking on the faieryes most accounted,
I grante, quoth he, some others were well mounted,
And praise your choice; I doe acknowledge that
Your weesell ran well too; soe did your ratt;
And were his tayle cutt shorter to the fashion,
You in his speed woulde finde an alteration.
Anothers stoate had pass'd the swiftest teggs,
If somewhat sooner he had founde his leggs;
His hare was winded well; soe had indeed
Anothers rabbett tolerable speed.
Your catt (quoth he) would many a courser baffle;
But sure he reynes not halfe well in a snaffle.
I knowe her well; 'twas Tybert that begatt her,
But she is flewe, and never will be fatter:
The vare was lastly prais'd, and all the kinde,
But on their pasternes they went weake behynde.
Their next discourse was; as that famous race,
Ingend'red by the wynde, coulde not compare
With theirs, noe more then coulde a Flemish mare
With those fleet steeds that are so quickly hurl'd,
And make but one dayes journey rounde the world.
Naye, in their praises, some one durst to run
Soe farre to say, that if the glorious sun
Should lame a horse, he must come from the spheares
And furnish up his teame with one of theirs.
Those that did heare them vaunte their excellence
Beyonde all value with such confidence,
Stoode wond'ring how such little elfes as these
Durst venture on soe greate hyperboles;
But more upon such horses. But it ceast
(I mean the wonder) when each nam'd his beaste.
My nimble squirrell (quoth the king), and then
Pinching his hatt is but a minutes ken.
The earth ran speedy from him, and I dare
Saye, if it have a motion circular,
I coulde have run it rounde ere she had done
The halfe of her circumvolution.
Her motion, lik'd with myne, should almost be
As Saturnes, myne the primum mobile.
Then, looking on the faieryes most accounted,
I grante, quoth he, some others were well mounted,
And praise your choice; I doe acknowledge that
Your weesell ran well too; soe did your ratt;
And were his tayle cutt shorter to the fashion,
You in his speed woulde finde an alteration.
Anothers stoate had pass'd the swiftest teggs,
149
His hare was winded well; soe had indeed
Anothers rabbett tolerable speed.
Your catt (quoth he) would many a courser baffle;
But sure he reynes not halfe well in a snaffle.
I knowe her well; 'twas Tybert that begatt her,
But she is flewe, and never will be fatter:
The vare was lastly prais'd, and all the kinde,
But on their pasternes they went weake behynde.
What brave discourse was this! now tell me, you
That talke of kings and states, and what they doe;
Or gravely silent with a Cato's face,
Chewe ignorance untill the later grace;
Or such, whoe (with discretion then at jarre)
Dare checke brave Grinvill and such sonnes of warre,
With whome they durst as soone have measur'd swords,
(How ere their pens fight or wine-prompted words)
As not have lefte him all with blood besmear'd,
Or tane an angry lion by the beard.
Forbeare that honor'd name! you, that in spight
Take paines to censure, more then he to fight,
Trample not on the dead! those wrongly laye
The not-successe, whoe soonest ran awaye.
Kill not againe whome Spaine would have repreev'd!
Had ten of you been Grinvills, he had liv'd.
That talke of kings and states, and what they doe;
Or gravely silent with a Cato's face,
Chewe ignorance untill the later grace;
Or such, whoe (with discretion then at jarre)
Dare checke brave Grinvill and such sonnes of warre,
With whome they durst as soone have measur'd swords,
(How ere their pens fight or wine-prompted words)
As not have lefte him all with blood besmear'd,
Or tane an angry lion by the beard.
Forbeare that honor'd name! you, that in spight
Take paines to censure, more then he to fight,
Trample not on the dead! those wrongly laye
The not-successe, whoe soonest ran awaye.
Kill not againe whome Spaine would have repreev'd!
Had ten of you been Grinvills, he had liv'd.
Were it not better that you did apply
Your meate, unlaught at of the standers by?
Or (like the faierye king) talke of your horse,
Or such as you, for want of something worse.
Your meate, unlaught at of the standers by?
Or (like the faierye king) talke of your horse,
Or such as you, for want of something worse.
Lett that deare name for ever sacred be:
Cæsar had enemyes, and soe had he;
But Grinvill did that Romans fate transcend,
And fought an enemy into a friend.
Cæsar had enemyes, and soe had he;
But Grinvill did that Romans fate transcend,
And fought an enemy into a friend.
Thus with small things I doe compose the greate.
Now comes the king of faieries second meate;
The first dish was a small spawn'd fish and fryde,
Had it been lesser, it had not been spyde;
The next, a dozen larded mytes; the third,
A goodly pye fill'd with a lady-bird.
Two roasted flyes, then of a dace the poule,
And of a millers-thumbe a mighty joule;
A butterfly which they had kill'd that daye,
A brace of ferne-webbs pickled the last Maye.
A well-fedd hornet taken from the souse,
A larkes tongue dryde, to make him to carowse.
Now comes the king of faieries second meate;
The first dish was a small spawn'd fish and fryde,
150
The next, a dozen larded mytes; the third,
A goodly pye fill'd with a lady-bird.
Two roasted flyes, then of a dace the poule,
And of a millers-thumbe a mighty joule;
A butterfly which they had kill'd that daye,
A brace of ferne-webbs pickled the last Maye.
A well-fedd hornet taken from the souse,
A larkes tongue dryde, to make him to carowse.
As when a lusty sawyer, well preparde,
His breakefast eaten, and his timber squarde,
About to rayse up as he thincketh fitt
A good sound tree above his sawing pitt,
His neighbours call'd; each one a lusty heaver,
Some steere the rouler, others ply the leaver;
Heave heere, sayes one; another calls, shove thither;
Heave, roule, and shove! cry all, and altogether;
Looke to your foote, sir, and take better heed,
Cryes a by-stander, noe more hast then need;
Lifte up that ende there; bring it gently on;
And now thrust all at once, or all is gone;
Holde there a little; softe; now use your strength
And with this stirre, the tree lyes fitt at length.
Just such a noyse was heard when came the last
Of Oberons second messe. One cryde, holde fast;
Put five more of the guard to't, of the best;
Looke to your footing; stoppe awhile and rest;
One would have thought with soe much strength and dyn
They surely would have brought Behemoth in,
That mighty oxe which (as the Rabbins saye)
Shall feaste the Jewes upon the latter daye.
But at the last, with all this noyse and cry,
Ten of the guard brought in a minowe-pye.
His breakefast eaten, and his timber squarde,
About to rayse up as he thincketh fitt
A good sound tree above his sawing pitt,
His neighbours call'd; each one a lusty heaver,
Some steere the rouler, others ply the leaver;
Heave heere, sayes one; another calls, shove thither;
Heave, roule, and shove! cry all, and altogether;
Looke to your foote, sir, and take better heed,
Cryes a by-stander, noe more hast then need;
Lifte up that ende there; bring it gently on;
And now thrust all at once, or all is gone;
Holde there a little; softe; now use your strength
And with this stirre, the tree lyes fitt at length.
Just such a noyse was heard when came the last
Of Oberons second messe. One cryde, holde fast;
Put five more of the guard to't, of the best;
Looke to your footing; stoppe awhile and rest;
One would have thought with soe much strength and dyn
They surely would have brought Behemoth in,
That mighty oxe which (as the Rabbins saye)
Shall feaste the Jewes upon the latter daye.
But at the last, with all this noyse and cry,
Ten of the guard brought in a minowe-pye.
The mountaynes labour'd and brought forth a mouse,
And why not in this mighty princes house
As any others? Well, the pye was plac'd,
And then the musicke strooke, and all things grac'd.
And why not in this mighty princes house
As any others? Well, the pye was plac'd,
151
It was a consort of the choicest sett
That never stood to tune, or right a frett;
For Nature to this king such musike sent,
Most were both players and the instrument.
That never stood to tune, or right a frett;
For Nature to this king such musike sent,
Most were both players and the instrument.
Noe famous sensualist, what ere he be,
Whoe in the brazen leaves of historie
Hath his name registred, for vast expence
In striving how to please his hearing sence,
Had ever harmony chose for his eare
Soe fitt as for this king; and these they were.
Whoe in the brazen leaves of historie
Hath his name registred, for vast expence
In striving how to please his hearing sence,
Had ever harmony chose for his eare
Soe fitt as for this king; and these they were.
The trebble was a three-mouth'd grashopper,
Well tutor'd by a skillfull quirister:
An antient master, that did use to playe
The friskins which the lambs doe dance in Maye;
And long tyme was the chiefest call'd to sing,
When on the playnes the faieryes made a ring;
Then a field-criquett, with a note full cleare,
Sweet and unforc'd and softly sung the meane,
To whose accord, and with noe mickle labor,
A pritty faiery playde upon a tabor:
The case was of a hasell nutt, the heads
A batt's-wing dress'd, the snares were silver thredds;
A little stiffned lamprey's skin did sute
All the rest well, and serv'd them for a flute;
And to all these a deepe well brested gnatt,
That had good sides, knewe well his sharpe and flatt,
Sung a good compasse, making noe wry face,—
Was there as fittest for a chamber base.
Well tutor'd by a skillfull quirister:
An antient master, that did use to playe
The friskins which the lambs doe dance in Maye;
And long tyme was the chiefest call'd to sing,
When on the playnes the faieryes made a ring;
Then a field-criquett, with a note full cleare,
Sweet and unforc'd and softly sung the meane,
To whose accord, and with noe mickle labor,
A pritty faiery playde upon a tabor:
The case was of a hasell nutt, the heads
A batt's-wing dress'd, the snares were silver thredds;
A little stiffned lamprey's skin did sute
All the rest well, and serv'd them for a flute;
And to all these a deepe well brested gnatt,
That had good sides, knewe well his sharpe and flatt,
Sung a good compasse, making noe wry face,—
Was there as fittest for a chamber base.
These choice musitians to their merry king
Gave all the pleasure which their art coulde bring;
At last he ask'd a song: but ere I fall
To sing it over in my pastorall,
Give me some respitt; now the daye growes olde,
And 'tis full tyme that I had pitch'd my folde;
When next sweet morning calls us from our bedds
With harmelesse thoughts and with untroubled heads,
Meet we in Rowden meadowes, where the flood
Kisses the banckes, and courts the shady wood;
A wood wherein some of these layes were drest,
And often sung by Willy of the west:
Upon whose trees the name of Licea stands,
Licea more fleeting then my Tavyes sands.
Growe olde, ye ryndes! and shedd awaye that name;
But O what hand shall wipe awaye her shame?
Gave all the pleasure which their art coulde bring;
At last he ask'd a song: but ere I fall
To sing it over in my pastorall,
Give me some respitt; now the daye growes olde,
And 'tis full tyme that I had pitch'd my folde;
When next sweet morning calls us from our bedds
152
Meet we in Rowden meadowes, where the flood
Kisses the banckes, and courts the shady wood;
A wood wherein some of these layes were drest,
And often sung by Willy of the west:
Upon whose trees the name of Licea stands,
Licea more fleeting then my Tavyes sands.
Growe olde, ye ryndes! and shedd awaye that name;
But O what hand shall wipe awaye her shame?
There lett us meet. And if my younger quill
Bring not such raptures from the sacred hill
With others, to whome heaven infused breath
When raignd our glorious deare Elizabeth,
(The nurse of learning and the blessed arts,
The center of Spaines envy and our hearts),
If that the Muses fayle me not, I shall
Perfect the little faieries festivall,
And charme your eares soe with that princes song,
That those faire nymphes which dayly tread along
The westerne rivers and survaye the fountaynes,
And those which haunte the woods, and sky-kiss'd mountaynes,
Shall learne and sing it to ensuing tymes
When I am dust. And, Tavy, in my rimes
Challenge a due; lett it thy glorye be,
That famous Drake and I were borne by thee!
Bring not such raptures from the sacred hill
With others, to whome heaven infused breath
When raignd our glorious deare Elizabeth,
(The nurse of learning and the blessed arts,
The center of Spaines envy and our hearts),
If that the Muses fayle me not, I shall
Perfect the little faieries festivall,
And charme your eares soe with that princes song,
That those faire nymphes which dayly tread along
The westerne rivers and survaye the fountaynes,
And those which haunte the woods, and sky-kiss'd mountaynes,
Shall learne and sing it to ensuing tymes
When I am dust. And, Tavy, in my rimes
Challenge a due; lett it thy glorye be,
That famous Drake and I were borne by thee!
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