University of Virginia Library

Scena Prima.

URANIO, CARINO.
Ur.
“All places are our Country where w'are well:
“Which to the wife is wheresoe're they dwel.

Car.
It is most true Uranio: and no man
By proof can say it better then I can:
Who leaving long ago my Fathers house,
(Being very young, and then ambitious
Of something more then holding of the plough,
Or keeping sheep) travell'd abroad: and now
To the same point where I began, return,
When my gilt locks are to the silver worn.
“Yet a sweet thing (it needs must be confest)
“To any that hath sense, is his first nest.
“For Nature gave to all men at their birth
“Something of secret love unto that Earth
“Where they were born, which never old doth grow
“In us, but follows wheresoe're we go.
“The Loadstone which the wary Mariner
“Doth as Directer of his travels bear
“Now to the rising Sun, now to his set,
“Doth never lose that hidden vertue yet,
“Which makes it to the North retort its look:
“So he that hath his native soil forsook,
“Though he may wander far, much compasse take,
“I, and his nest in forraign Countries make;
“Yet that same naturall love doth still retain
“Which makes him wish his native soil again.
O fair Arcadia! the sweetest part
Of all the world (at least to me thou art)
Which my feet trod on, but my thoughts adore!
Had I been landed blindfold on thy shore,
Yet then I should have known thee, such a floud
Of sudden joy runs races with my bloud:
Such a Magnetick powerfull sympathie,
And unaccustom'd tendernesse feel I.
Thou then, that my companion hast been
In travels and in sorrowes, shalt be in
At my joyes too: 'tis reason thou shouldst go
My half in happinesse, as well as woe.

Ura.
Companion of thy travels I have been,
Not of the fruit thereof; for thou art in
Thy native soil, where thou repose maist find
For thy tir'd body, and more tired mind:
But I that am a stranger, and am come
So many leagues from my poor house, and from
My poorer and distressed Family,
Trailing my wearied lims along with thee,
For my afflicted body well may find
Repose, but not for my afflicted mind:
Thinking what pledges do behinde remain,
And how much rugged way I must again
Tread over e're I rest. Nor do I know
Who else could have prevail'd with me to go
From Elis in my gray unweildy age
(Not knowing why) so long a pilgrimage.

Car.
Thou knowst, my sweet Mirtillo (who was giv'n
As a son to me by propitious Heav'n)
Some two months since came hither to be well
(By my advice, or of the Oracle,
To speak more true, which said, Th'Arcadian air
Was th'only means that could his health repair.)
Now I, that find it an exceeding pain
Without so deer a pledge long to remain,
Consulting the same Oracle, enquir'd
When he'ld return whom I so much desir'd.
The Answer was the same I tell thee now;
Unto thy ancient Country return thou;
Where with thy sweet Mirtillo thou shalt be
Happy; for in that place (by Heaven) hee
Is mark'd out for great things: But till thou come
Into Arcadia, touching this be dumb.
Thou then, my faithfullest Companion,
My lov'd Uranio, who hast ever gone.
A share in all my fortunes hitherto,
Repose thy body, and thou shalt have too
Cause to repose thy minde: 'twixt me and thee
(If Heav'n perform what it hath promis'd me)
All shall be common: no successe can glad
Carino, if he see Uranio sad.

Ur.
My deer Carino, what I do for thee,
Rewards it self, if it accepted be.
But what at first could make thee to forgo
Thy native Country, if thou lov'st it so?

Car.
A love to Poetry, and to the lowd
Musick of Fame resounding in a crowd.
For I my self (greedy of forraigne praise)
Disdain'd Arcadia onely should my Layes
Hear and applaud: as if my native Soile
Were narrow limits to my growing Style.
I went to Elis, and to Pisa then,
(Famous themselves, and giving fame to men)
There saw I that lov'd Egon, first with Bayes,
With Purple then, with Vertue deckt alwayes:
That he on earth Apollo's self did seem:
Therefore my heart and Harp I unto him
Did consecrate, devoted to his name.
And in his house (which was the house of Fame)
I should have set up my perpetuall rest,
There to admire and imitate the best,
If as Heav'n made me happy here below,
So it had gi'n me too the grace to know
And keep my happinesse. How I forsook
Elis and Pisa after, and betook
My selfe to Argos and Micene, where
An earthly god I worshipt, with what there
I sufferd in that hard captivity,
Would be too long for thee to hear, for me
Too sad to utter. Onely thus much know,
I lost my labour, and in sand did sow:
I writ, wept, sung, hot and cold fits I had,
I rid, I stood, I bore, now sad, now glad,
Now high, now low, now in esteem, now scorn'd;
And as the Delphick iron, which is turnd
Now to Heroick, now Mechanick use,
I fear'd no danger, did no pains refuse,
Was all things, and was nothing; chang'd my hair,
Condition, custome, thoughts, and life, but ne're
Could change my fortune. Then I knew at last
And panted after my sweet freedome past.
So flying smoaky Argos, and the great
Storms that attend on greatnesse, my retreat
I made to Pisa (my thoughts quiet port)
Where (praise be giv'n to the Eternall for't)
Upon my deer Mirtillo I did light,
Which all past sorrowes fully did requite.

Ura.
“A thousand thousand times that man is blest
“Can clip the wings of his aspiring brest!
“Nor for the shadow of great happinesse
“Doth throw away the substance of the lesse!

Car.
But who'd have dreamt midst plenty to grow poor?
Or to be lesse by toiling to be more?
I thought by how much more in Princes Courts
Men did excell in Titles and Supports,
So much the more obliging they would be
(The best enamell of Nobility).
But now the contrary by proof I've seen:
Courtiers in name, and Courteous in their meen
They are; but in their actions I could spie
Not the least spark or drachm of Courtesie.
People in shew smooth as the calmed waves:
Yet cruell as the Ocean when it raves.
Men in appearance onely I did finde,
Love in the face, but malice in the minde:
With a streight look a squinting heart; and least
Fidelity where greatest was profest.
That which elsewhere is vertue, is vice there:
Plain troth, square dealing, love unfeign'd, sincere
Compassion, faith inviolable, and
An innocence both of the heart and hand,
They count the folly of a soul that's vile
And poor, a vanity worthy their smile.
To cheat, to lie, deceit and theft to use,
And under shew of pity to abuse,
To rise upon the ruines of their Brothers,
And seek their own by robbing praise from others,
The vertues are of that perfidious race.
No worth, no valour, no respect of place,
Of Age, or Law, bridle of modestie,
No tie of love, or blood, nor memorie
Of good receiv'd; no thing's so venerable,
Sacred or just, that is inviolable
By that vast thirst of Riches, and desire
Unquenchable of still ascending higher.
Now I (not fearing, since I meant not ill,
And in Court-craft not having any skill,
Wearing my thoughts caracterd in my brow,
And a glasse-window in my brest) judge thou
How open and how fair a mark my heart
Lay to their Envie's unsuspected dart.

Ura.
“Who now can boast of earth's felicity,
“When Envie treads on vertues heels?

Car.
O my
Uranio, If since my Muse and I
From Elis past to Argos, I had found
Such cause to sing, as I had ample ground
To weep, perchance in such a lofty key
I'd sung my Master's glorious Arms, that hee
Should have no cause, for the felicity
Of his Meonian trumpet to envie
Achilles: and my Country (which doth bring
Such haplesse Poets forth as Swan-like sing
Their own sad fates) should by my means have now
A second Lawrell to impale her brow.
But in this age (inhumane age the while!)
The art of Poetry is made too vile.
“Swans must have pleasant nests, high feeding, fair
“Weather to sing: and with a load of care
“Men cannot climb Parnassus cliffe: for he
“Who is still wrangling with his Destinie
“And his malignant fortune, becomes hoarse,
“And loses both his singing and discourse.
—But now 'tis time to seek Mirtillo out:
Although I find the places hereabout
So chang'd and alter'd from their ancient wont,
I for Arcadia in Arcadia hunt.
But come Uranio gladly for all this;
A traveller with language cannot misse
His way: Or, since th'art weary, thou wert best
To stay at the next Inne to take some rest.