The Shorter Poems of Ralph Knevet A Critical Edition by Amy M. Charles |
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The Shorter Poems of Ralph Knevet | ||
115
A DISCOURSE OF MILITARIE DISCIPLINE.
Loe my Thalia, that was whilome seeneFrisking among the Nimphs, in Forrest greene,
To Satyres pipes; and that did sing (long since)
Her morals smooth, to Pan the Shepheards Prince:
Is now prest to a farre unfitter taske;
And like Bellona, arm'd with steely caske;
Powres warlike accents forth, and numbers meete
For trumpets sterne, and stately buskin'd feete.
Then of yee thrice three sisters that sit on
Parnassus greene, and flowrie Helicon;
Spinning your gentle flaxe in the coole shade;
Because the Arts are growne too poore a trade,
To find yee smockes withall: and that great Goddesse
(Pallas) who (wheresoever thy abode is)
Canst scarce discharge th' expences of thy lights,
With writing Poems in long Winter nights:
Be yee propicious to your gentle swaine;
One draught of pure Castalian juyce him daigne;
And with an active furie touch his braine,
That he may set his notes in loftie straine
He that extols the thing, which all men praise,
Shall hardly merit those immortall bayes,
That glorious wreath, that Crowne which is meete for
(Onely) a Poet, and an Emperor.
What need we praise Apollos radiant light:
When dullest Hindes, can apprehend by sight
More lustre in his face; then we can Paint,
116
But so pernicious, are the minds of men:
So sinister their wils: so fraught with teene;
That things, which alway doe deserve applause;
Are oft contemnd by some: and heare the cause.
In this worst age; each man extols that thing,
Which doth to him much gaine, and profit bring:
He onely is a friend unto himselfe:
Devoted onely, to his idle pelfe
Religion and the soveraigntie of Kings,
He deemes to be, but ceremonious things.
That love which he unto his neighbour owes;
He payes in complements, and fained showes,
And as for that respect, which doth pertaine
Unto his Parents he accounts it vaine:
And while he thrives, and hath enough to give:
On parish almes will see his mother live.
Friendship he deemes a foolish fond conceit;
If it brings in no profitable freight,
(Dull Camell) when he see'th the Azure heaven
Full fix'd with Starres, and the bright Planets seven,
The Elements; all beasts, all foules, and fish,
Trees, plants, and herbes, with all that heart can wish,
Created for his use; yet thinke[s] that hee
Is borne, from all exteriour duties free.
The com[m]on-wealths deepe wounds, pierce not his skin:
He careth not who loose, so he may win.
Not any sad thought would he entertaine,
When Fame talk'd of so many worthies slaine,
By adverse Mars, and Fortune (that coye wench)
Maligning English valour, and turn'd French;
That now with swelling vaunts, they dare report
Their glorie equal'd our[s] at Agincort.
Nor will he bestow one auspicious thought
Upon the Danes designes; nor cares he ought
117
Be they our friends, or proud Imperials.
Thus; (by the deprav'd nature of Mans will)
That worth in others is maligned still;
Which in themselves they want; and onely deeme
That good, which doth in private profit them.
Thus things that merit all respect, and grace,
Are under valu'd, and accounted base.
All morall, and all martiall discipline,
They slight as vaine: yea, be the same devine,
They'le censure it: foule shamelesse brats
That would seeme Eagles, though as blind as bats.
But we (that are sent by Apollo bright,
To vindicate all vertue, from the spight
Of foule detraction, whose envenom'd darts,
With equall rancour wound, both Armes, and Arts)
(Alcides-like) whose monsters will expell;
Whose slandrous tongues (as with exorcists spell)
Shall by our pow'rfull numbers be conjur'd;
In circles of their mouthes to rest immur'd.
But intermit (my Muse) thy hastie chace;
And give those Harpies leave, to breath a space:
Another worke doth thy assistance aske:
Then (my Virago) take thee to thy taske:
And with a pirrhique straine grace every line;
So shouldst thou sing of Martiall Discipline
Although we (men) be led by reasons lampe;
Yet ought we goe astray; because the dampe
Of grosse affections doth put out that light,
And from the right way makes us wander quite:
That we, of silly Beasts may learne to tread
The pathes, which to true happinesse doe lead.
The painefull Bee doth teach us industrie.
The Turtle to observe pure chastitie.
The Pismire warnes us to be provident.
118
The Robin-redbrest learnes us charitie.
The Storke how to requite a curtesie.
The Cocke shews valour who had rather die,
Then yeeld to his insulting enemie.
By these; we (men) instructed are likewise
In Warlike feates, and Martiall policies.
The Cranes (by day) keepe order in their flight;
And alway one stands Sentinell at night.
When that the Indian Rat doth undertake,
Against the Aspe, his partie good to make;
His body he all over daubes with durt;
That his foes venome can doe him no hurt.
The Dragon farre to weake, to maintaine fight
Against the Elephant; kills him by sleight:
For in some Thicket, he in ambush lies:
And (ere he be aware) doth him surprise.
The Dolphin, not of force, with his sharpe finne
To pierce the Crocodiles hard scaly skinne,
Seemes to retreate, as wearie of the fight;
And diving downe, doth counterfeit a flight:
Then from the deepes, remounting sudainely,
His foes soft belly wounds, and makes him dy.
The Horse, the Bull, and Bore know when and how
Both to assaile their foes, and shift a blow.
If these brute creatures (led alone by sence)
Can so expertly make their owne defence,
To save that bloud, which we account so base
That oft we spill it, to enjoy the case;
Then we should be ten thousand times more wise,
To save that life, which we so highly prise.
Nor is the losse of life the greatest ill,
Redounding from the want of warlike skill:
For honours, freedome, goods, oft goe to wracke
In each ill mannag'd state, where that doth lacke.
119
Upon the bankes of Granicus had di'de:
Or (captive taken) had attended on
His proud foes carre, through streetes of Babylon.
If his strong Phalanx, had not calm'd the pride,
Of Persian brav'rie, at her highest tide.
This strong Battalion stretch'd even to the skies
His fame; and to both Seas his victories.
So glorious Conquests have beene oft obtain'd,
By numbers few, well disciplin'd, and train'd.
But mighty multitudes (where skill doth want)
Of good successe can very seldom vaunt:
For Victorie is coye, and will not bee
Forc'd, by rude multitudes; but rather shee
Unto a few well Disciplin'd, doth yeeld
Her selfe, with all the Honour of the field.
Proud Xerxes, whose huge troopes dranke rivers drie
And even with lowly plaines, made mountaines high,
Did flee from Greece, in a poore fishers boote
Who whilome had so many Ships a floote,
As made a large Bridge, over Hellespont;
That had Leander liv'd, he might upon't
Have had a safe recourse, by night, or day,
To that faire Towre, where his sweet mistris lay.
Worth doth consistt in qualitie alone;
Not quantitie: for the small precious stone,
Is at high rates, and value ever priz'd;
When greater flints, and pibles are despis'd.
Even so, the vigour of an Armie stands
(Chiefely) in expert, and well order'd bands;
And not in throngs of men; whose force unskil'd,
Doth rather let, then helpe to winne the field.
Old Rome, her Empires Armes had never spred,
From high-brow'd Taurus, to Sols wat'ry bed;
If that her expert Legions (so oft tride)
120
Nor did her greatnesse any whit decrease,
Untill that antient Discipline did cease,
By which shee had, to her first height, ascended;
And her wide Empires bounds so long defended.
Her Majestie stood free from all decay,
While she her thirtie Legions kept in pay.
But when sweete Asias womanish delights,
Had turn'd her Captaines into carpet Knights:
Yea when her Souldiers, and Commanders both,
Were wholy given to pleasures, and to sloth;
And when true Discipline was laugh'd to scorne;
Her naked sides then by her foes were torne.
Great boundles minded Caesar (not content,
With Conquest of the Westerne continent)
Did passe the Seas, to find our Britaines out;
Who entertaind him with such courage stout;
That (if of skill, there had not beene a lacke)
The haughtie Romane had been beaten backe.
Nor in those times, when Romes ambition fierce
Did search each corner of the universe;
Stood we in greatest danger; for Romes hate
Is more then trebled toward us, since that.
For now the time[s], doe greatest perils shew;
So many foes we'have, and friends so few.
Needes then must my impartiall Muse commend
Those, whom their countries love doth move, to spend
Some houres, in Mars his Schoole, where loyall hearts
May learne the rule, of Militarie arts.
But thou (faire Norwich) by whose stone-rib'd side,
The gentle Yare in sandie path doth glide,
Creeping along thy meade with a slow pace,
As ravish'd with the beautie of thy face:
And parted from thee, still his love doth shew
With frequent lookes, and softly sigh adue.
121
That art in Peace, providing against warre:
As witnesse may that warlike practise bee,
Which now is so exactly taught in thee.
Oh what a gracefull qualitie it is,
To be expert in Martiall properties.
The Tennis-court, and bowling grounds smooth face,
Compar'd with the Artill'rie yard seeme base.
Those great Olimpicke Games, and Isthmian plaies
Did never merit such applause, and praise;
As doe those Martiall gymnickes in our daies:
Those games through ostentation were ordain'd:
But ours for publicke weales sake be maintain'd.
To know each motion well, and to performe
Each title of command, in truest forme:
To doe the Muskets Postures dextrously:
And nimbly for to let a Bullet fly:
With advantageous skill to manage pike:
To know [how] to defend, and how to strike,
Doth not alone at hand, prevaile in fight,
But also doth farre of[f] the foe affright.
These warlike principles be not obtain'd
All sudainely; but by long practise gain'd;
And (being gotten once) are soone forgot;
If often exercise preserves them not.
For frequent use, and action must supplie
The habit; least it in a sudaine die.
And like the lampe, be soone extinguish'd quite,
When th' oyle is gone that should maintaine the light.
The antient French so fierce a people were,
And so great conquest got'they every where,
That mightie Kings in awe of France then stood,
Seeking her friendship not her neighbour-hood:
When Charles the great in Italy had queld
The Lombards: and the Saracens expeld
122
To the French yoke their stubborne neckes to yeeld,
Dismay'd then were the Easterne Emperours:
Yea all the world did then feare Frances force.
Much honour likewise did Christs zealous Knight
Great Godfrey winne for France; when he did fight
His Saviours fields, in those unchristn'd lands,
Where his chiefe hopes on frenchmens valour stands
But vertues growne t'extreames, breed worse effects.
Then ere could have beene caus'd by their defects.
For this fierce Nation us'd to Warres, and spoyles,
When forraine foes did faile, broch'd civill broyles:
That their Kings (for to remedie these harmes)
Were forced to forbid the use of Armes
Unto the vulgar sort, and them compell'd
Or to turne up the bowels of the field,
Or for to plie mechanicke faculties;
Debarring them from warlike exercise.
Thus France her antient reputation lost,
Beaten by Sea, and Land, on everie coast.
And few I thinke but Frenchmen will denie,
That French are Europe[s] basest Infant'rie.
Armour for Warre, from the Arsenall is brought,
But weapons for the Victorie be wrought
In forge of discipline: could furious might,
Or strength of brawnie limmes prevaile in fight,
Then who could match those huge Patagones,
Or buckle with those Westerne Savages
Whom Spaine makes slaves: or if activitie
Alone could winne a glorious Victorie,
Then who could match the Light Numidians
That like wild Goates on craggie rockes can dance
Then who could match the Kerne or Galloglasse,
That on the quaking Boggs as safely passe,
As we on firmest plaines: or if the skill
123
Could winne the day, then had not in such sort
The French beene slaughtr'd at their Agincourt.
Or if by number conquest might be wonne,
Then had the Greekes been foyl'd in Marathon.
Thus neither horsemanship, nor many hands,
Strength, nor activitie, the field commaunds:
But the well order'd foote that be refin'd
By exercise, and throughly disciplin'd,
These alway winne the fortune of the day,
For Fortune doth true Fortitude obey.
Nor in those elder times (before the Munke,
Invented had his murther-spitting trunke;
That plague of valour, height of Hels dispite)
Was warlike Discipline so requisite,
As now it is: for there's requir'd more skill,
To handle well a Gunne, then a blacke bill.
Of Policie, order's the soule alone:
And Natures very life (that being gone)
Things cease to be: for should the golden Sunne
Swarve from the course, which he hath wont to runne
Roaming at randome up and downe in heaven:
Or should the Starres; and those bright Planets seven,
Not walke those rounds, which God hath the[m] appointed,
Soone should the worlds great fabricke be dis-joynted
But a great Armie (where nor Captaines know
What to command, nor silly Souldiers how
To execute) is like a Galeon
Of mightie bulke, ill rig'd, and floating on
The surging maine, without sufficient stores
Of tackling, ballast, and wave-sliceing ores,
With sayles untrimm'd, and wanting at the sterne
An expert Pilot, that should well discerne
The Chanels course; and know each creeke and cape,
And by what point, his course he should forth shape.
124
This forlorne vessell, in so weake plight, then
From their fierce rage, shee hardly should escape
To harbour, without perill of rape.
Even so those great Armadoes, that consist
Of huge unexpert troupes, and a long list
Of mens bare names, doe oft become a prey
To their fierce foes, and seldome winne the day.
That sonne of Mars, that valiant Epirot,
That matchlesse Prince, thrice worthy Castriot,
In two and twentie bloudy fights, compeld
Huge Turkish Armies, to forsake the field:
Nor ever did his greatest strength, and force,
Exceed five thousand men (both foote and horse)
On order, doth eternitie depend:
And Victorie, is Disciplines faire end.
Victorie, that blisse of Kings, that sole good
Which Warre affords, whose face besmeard with blood,
More tempting loves doth to her darlings offer;
Then Cleopatr'as lippe, when shee did proffer
A courtly Kisse, to great Marke Anthonie;
Who with the splendour of her Majestie
Was to a Statue strooke, and stood amaz'd,
As one that on the Gorgons scalpe had gaz'd.
But some there be (I know) that thus object:
What need we thus our businesse neglect?
What needes this Sturre? this idle exercise?
Secure are we, from forraine enemies;
Our streetes have in these many yeares not heard
The voice of Warre, there's nothing to be fear'd:
No inrodes, nor incursions, doe affright
Our fearefull Hindes: no out-cries rais'd by night
Are signals of approaching foes: no fires
Doe crowne our Beacons: and all those are lyers,
Which say that Spaine, dares venture for the trie
125
Let us tend our affaires, confine our selves
Unto our Shops; and while the Peasant delves,
And rips his Mothers wombe, to find out wealth,
Let us grow rich by sleight of tongue, and stealth.
While others ply their Militarie Arts,
We will be sure to learne to play our parts;
To cogge, and foyst, to keepe our measures short,
To vent bad Ware, and take good Money for't.
Let's cocker up our Wives, and keepe them neate;
Raise our selves high with sweete lascivious meate
For luxurie: Lets cheate, and cousen all;
The pinching Carle, and profuse prodigall.
In truth to cheate the wicked no sinne tis;
They must be plagu'd for their iniquities.
But heare me (friend) thou that hast done more ills,
Then ere were punish'd on those wofull Hills,
Of mournefull Magdalene: thou who dost thrive
By knaverie, and cous'nage; which canst dive
Into the depth of craft, to rake for pelfe;
And robbe ten thousand, to enrich thy selfe:
Thou which dost maske thy crimes, with gestures pure;
And think'st th' art safe, so long as th' art secure:
Be not deceiv'd: for know thy sinne alone,
Deserves nought lesse, then an invasion.
But though all forraine enemies should faile;
(As Vengeances too small to countervaile
Our wickedn[e]sse) the Devill may find out
Some daring Ket, in borroughs here about;
To plague us, and make pillage of our goods,
To fire our houses, and to spill our bloods.
If heavens just wrath, should send such punishments;
Then who should be best able for defence;
But these that be with warlike skill endu'd,
126
And while those dolts, that have but skill enough
To weight their plummes, or measure out their stuffe,
Shall be unable to obey command;
These shall be fit, each one, to lead a band.
But suppose that heavens awfull ordinance,
Had confin'd Warre, to Germanie, or France:
Suppose our Land from broyles should alway bee
As safe, as Ireland is from vipers free:
Yet is this exercise, and warlike sport,
Thrice more praise-worthy, then the Tennis court,
Or Bowling Alley, where losse and expences,
Breed many discontentments, and offences.
Then (worthy Citizens) into whose hearts
The wise Prometheus, hath infus'd three parts.
Of those pure spritefull flames, which he did steale,
From bright Apollos radiant charret wheele;
Yee that your private cares can intermit,
And spare some houres, for publike benefit:
Frequent yee still Bellona's Court, and know
More Postures, then can all the Souldiers show;
That ere Bloud-thirstie Belgia daign'd to spare
From all the furies of a lingring warre
But (that your exercise may ever last)
Yee must be joyned all together fast,
Within the Golden cord, of Unitie:
All may enjoy the same immunitie,
In place ben[e]ath command: it skils not who
The colours beares (so long as theres no foe)
That place, or grace, which all alike may merit,
(In my conceite) all may by course inherit.
Then let no Envie, nor ambitious thought,
Breake that societie, which time hath wrought
By vertues helpe: let disagreement never,
The joynts of your fraternitie dissever:
127
(Who in eternall darknesse, waste[s] her selfe
With dire imaginations, and damn'd thought,
To bring each worthy exercise to nought)
Shall fill your hearts, with the Cadmeian seede
Of strife; then let my Muse, with pow'rfull reede,
Those mischiefes charme, and repossesse your minds
With that respect, which lovely concord binds.
So did (of yore) the Thracian Lyrist 'swage,
With his concenting notes, the direfull rage
Of Greekish youths, when they had forgot quite
The golden fleece, for which they went to fight,
Each other seeking to deprive of life,
So fell was their debate, so great their strife.
Discords the bane of things, a poysn'us worme,
That doth infest the joynts of States, a storme
Which many Common-wealths hath ruined,
And many hopefull actions frustrated:
Nor can I here, forbeare to interpose
Those unauspicious quarrels, that arose,
Betweene stout Cuer de Lyon, and his brother
In law, and Armes, who sworne to aide each other,
Yet entertaind (in stead of love) deepe hate:
And by a separation, tempted fate
To the defeate, of their great enetrprise
For which proud Philip Richards worth envies,
He is requited with as deepe disdaine;
And soone (for spite) returnd to France againe:
But (if their mutuall vowes they had not broke)
Christs Citie then, had cast off Isma'ls yoke.
But Concord, is the strength of Warre, in field,
And Campe, more forcible, then sword, and shield:
Of Conquest, that's the truest augurie;
The life of hope, portent of victorie.
Faire Belgia had long since beene deflowr'd,
128
Had shee admitted any inbred strife:
Concord's her sinewes, bloud, and very life.
Her sheafe of arrowes bound together fast,
Are th' auspice of her welfare; which shall last;
So long, as doth the rampant Lyon hold,
His shafts unbroke: and as (in dayes of old)
The wearie Greekes, at Troy found good successe,
When they had got the shafts of Hercules:
Even so, Scylurus arrowes shall maintaine
The Netherlands, against the pride of Spaine.
Concord's that golden chaine, let downe from heaven
On whose well order'd linkes, dependeth even
The worlds stabilitie: it doth combine
Both hearts, and hands, and prosper each designe.
In ill attempered bodies, sicknesse breedes,
Which on the disproportion'd humours feedes;
For these uneven'ly mixt, such a Warre raise,
That it the bodies common health decayes,
If some Physicion doth not them attone,
And by an ostracisme, expell that one,
Which is predominant: That confus'd masse
Of things (which Chaos hight) maintained was
By Discord, and while shee there dominear'd,
No hight, no heav'n, no Sea, no earth appear'd;
(Thrust thence by love) shee crept into mens hearts;
Where shee began to play her devilish parts;
For being farre too weake, to worke her ends
Against the greater world, her force shee bends
Against the lesse; inciting men to jarres,
To murthers, treasons, and to Civill warres.
Faire Greece shee first exspos'd to Turkish pride.
The Moores from Africke, shee to Spaine did guide.
The Lombards shee brought into Italy.
And on the cheekes of France, and Germany.
129
The balefull sturres, that Discord there hath bred.
Nor doth Apollo any Climate see,
That from her malice, hath beene alway free:
Then from your brests, drive that Echidna dire
(O brave Pretorian band) and with the fire
Of sacred love; do Envies eyes out-seare:
And from foule Slanders mouth, her tongue out teare
Let friendship banish all debate, and strife,
And give your exercise both strength, and life.
Nor let my gentle Muse alone inspire,
Loves sweete consents, but fill'd with that pure fire,
Which Phoebus lends his impes, let her high fits,
Move noble hearts (as time and place permits)
To learne this Art of order, and to know
Their Rankes, and Postures perfectly; for now
Monstrous abuses routed have the age;
And Knaverie rides in Knight-hoods equipage:
Few keepe their Rankes; yet in the front stalkes pride
And alway takes the right-hand file beside:
Shee leadeth on the forlo[r]ne hope, and will
(Though shee to Hell-gate march) be formost still.
Great evils, with great honours be combin'd
And march like Pikes, with Muskets interlin'd.
Our Postures are French conges, and few can:
Know Mounsieur, from an English Gentleman:
So like are we to them, so frenchify'd
In garbes and garment: but great God forbid,
That our newfangled change should ere declare.
Such sad events, as did the Scimitar,
Of King Darius: for his Sword alone,
A sheath of Greekish fashion, did put on:
And then his Magi cry'd, it was a signe,
That he to Greece, his Empire should resigne:
But we our selves, our gestures, and our swords,
130
Have put on French dissimulation:
Oh, blind, absurd, fond, foolish nation,
That (light Chamaeleon-like) art what thou see'st;
A painted Argos, of all gath'rings piec'd.
But are we all transform'd to Woolves, and Apes?
Doe none retaine those old Herculian shapes
Of Vertue? yes: for God defend, that all
Should be Lycanthropiz'd; least heaven should fall.
To stop up with her ruines, Sinnes blacke jawes,
And crush oppressions unrelenting pawes.
No, no: (thankes be to our kinder Starres) yet lives
That Vestall flame in many brests, which gives
Refreshing heate, to each good enterprise:
These helpe old Atlas, to proppe up the skies:
These stand (like brazen Colosses) unmov'd
By chance, or passion: these never lov'd
Informing dogs; nor ere (to fill their purses)
Heard Orphanes cryes, or Widowes baleful curses.
These neere to any greatnesse did aspire;
But Vertue: nor ere sought to be higher
In fortunes favour, then in Gods: these scan
Worth, by desart; and though they truely can
Make good their Gentrie many wayes; such wayes
As now the basenesse of the time bewrayes,
As large demeanes, great place, or pedigrees;
Yet these disdainning that their worth should bee
Produc'd from smokie titles, or base pelfe,
Or dust, and rotten bones, each from himselfe
His worship, or his honour, doth derive;
And by his proper actions doth descrive;
A Gentleman: for Fortune can't inherit
(By right) those graces, which pertaine to merit:
And wretched is that Gentrie, which is gotten
From their deedes, that long since be dead and rotten.
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And Ancestrie, are but the outward parts
Of true Nobilitie, for her soule is,
An harmonie, of vert'ous qualities:
But should we search the world (may some replie)
From Cales, to Calicut, and sharply prie
Both into Universitie, and court;
Traverse all Countries, and belay each port,
We hardly should meete with so brave a wight.
Yes, yes; such be they whose names to recite,
My Muse is proud; nor ever shall these want
Roome in my Verses (be they nere so scant)
For worth as well deserves a Panegyricke,
As vice doth Satyrs, or a Thiefe a Diricke,
Selfe-wild opinion is, mistaken farre
To deeme, that noble vertues praises are
Smooth flatteries: and Envie is farre wide
To thinke that any baser end can guide
A Poets aymes. Although we know those walkes,
Where Fortune upon heapes of ingots stalkes,
And see her golden Temple dayly full
Of sweating Votaries: where Knave, and Gull
Have accesse free; and though we well descry,
What offrings shee accepts most gratefully:
Yet we her Altars shunne, because we know,
That many (which her favours buy) doe owe
To Justice such hard debts, that mercies bayle
Will scarce be found, to save them from hell-Jayle
Vaine, foolish Men, although they plainely see
All good is there, where grace, and wisedome bee,
Yet they of Fortune, doe a Goddesse make,
Advancing her to heaven, and for her sake,
Dare plunge themselves into a fouler lake:
Then Curtius did Romes pestilence to slacke.
But (noble Gentlemen) yee that doe hold
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Yee, whose affections scorne to serve the times,
Whose sleepes rue not the harmes, of fore-past crimes,
Whose names were neere marked with the privie seale
Of Fame, for pilling of the common-weale:
Yee that (from Cities tumult severd) know
Those sweet contents, which from retirement flow
Though not Tiberius-like at Capreae:
For privacies, as oft the Midwives bee.
Of ils, as good: but yee reserve your leasures
For nobler ends, then vaine and flitting pleasures:
Nor doe the times bid us securely sleepe,
But rather warne us a strong gard to keepe.
The East looke[s] blacke with danger, and the South
Seemes to invade the North, with open mouth.
Our beaten foes their forces now unite,
Arm'd with dire mischiefe, rage, and fell despite.
But Spaine is poore, and weake (as some replie)
Long Warres exhausted have his treasurie.
The Netherlands: have drawne his Coffers drie
Yet Indian mines (we answere) soone supplie
Those wants; for from the Western world doth come
His Navie duely, fraught with treasure home.
Nor is the Warre maintain'd by Austrian purses
Alone: for somewhat beside Buls and curses
The Pope allowes, and to the offring cals
Many fat Priests, and well fed Cardinals,
For whom (though nere so sparing) would stand by
And, not helpe to roote out a heresie.
Another sort I heare speake better sence:
And those relie on Gods omnipotence:
Tis true: his mercie onely can us keepe;
But if we in our wickednesse still sleepe,
And yet suppose that he shall us defend,
We miserably erre: what doe protend
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Titanicke pride, that God to his face dares.
Ramping Oppression, with her hundreth pawes,
Abusing to her private gaine the lawes.
And Covetise, that with her swinish snout,
Rootes up all goodnesse, to find money out.
Soft handed sloth, spruce smiling Luxurie,
Dull Drunkennesse, swolne-bellyd Gluttonie
Unbridled ire, pale Envie, viperous hate;
These are the Comets which doe ominate
The scourge of Warre; then tis time to repent,
Least we too late seeke to shunne the event.
Last night, when sweete repose had closd mine eyes,
Strange thoughts began my fansie to surprise:
For the dull God of sleepe, that hates the morne,
And from his gate of Ivorie, and horne,
Sends silent troupes of dreames forth everie night,
Caus'd horrid Phobetor me to affright,
In sundrie shapes: me thought I was transported
To a strange Land, such as is not reported
By Munster, or old Sir John Mandevile.
Nor know I (Certes) whether t'were an Ile,
Or parcell of the maine; therein appear'd
Great Cities, Townes, and Towres, that seem'd to beard
The very clouds; and the soyle seem'd to bee
Exceeding fertile: for on every tree
The pendant clustres hung, as faire to sight,
As the Hesperian fruit: Grapes red, and white,
Pomegranates, Limons, Figs, and Oranges,
With wondrous plentie, seem'd the field to blesse.
Desiring then to see those happie men,
That had so faire a Countrie, to dwell in,
I to a Citie went, thinking to find
The beautifullest race, of all mankind.
(But there arriv'd) most strange t'is to be told,
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Nothing like Man saw I there, but huge Apes
And hayrie Satires, greedie of foule rapes;
Buls, Buffles, Boores, fierce Tygers, Dragons, Dogs,
Beares, Camels, Woolves, slow Asses, Horses, Hogs,
And Monsters, such as Nilus never bred,
Nor Africas foule desarts nourished,
Iveery streete did clusters, on each hand,
As thicke as Tearme-tid Gallants on the strand.
All Birds of prey, and eke all uncleane fowles,
Did nestle there; fierce Eagles, Griffons, Owles,
Foule Ostriches, and Bats, I there descryd;
And earnestly their new guest all these ey'd;
That I sore fear'd their entertainement rough,
And often wish'd my selfe thence farre enough.
While I stood thus amaz'd, an Ape drew neare,
Whose age did in his rivelld face appeare.
This was their Cities Towne-clarke, it did seeme,
For he their onely speaker was I deeme
He with a low accoast, thus did me g[r]eete.
Stranger (quoth he) I kisse thy happie feete,
That brought thee hither, where thou mayst drinke store
Of richest draughts, that shall refresh thee more,
Then strong Nepenthe; and make thy wits quicker
Then can Lyaeus, or the spitefull licour,
That Jove, and all the Gods so freely swill'd,
The merrie night ensuing Phlegra's, field.
Nor let our various shapes, make thee disdaine
Our kind societie (my gentle swaine)
For although we, the shapes of beasts doe shew,
Yet we retaine the minds of men, and know
Thrice more content then they: Our Land is clep't
Faire Polytheria, where great Circe kept
Her court of yore: Circe that awfull Queene,
The daughter of the Sunne, who oft was seene
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Æstivall Snowes and breake the vipers jawes.
To drive a river backe, to his spring head,
To make Seas stand unmov'd, and to strike dead
The harvest eare; her cup and wand so mightie,
Which made the Fiends obey her great Venite,
We stlil reserve: nor doe we deeme the race,
Whereof we are deriv'd our meanest grace:
From that victorious ancestrie we grow,
That did Faire Asias glorie overthrow,
In Troyes great ruines: nor were these (I sweare)
The baser sort, but such as consorts were
Of great Ulysses, on whose name still stickes
The honour of Troyes fall; nor need we fixe
Our worth aloue on a bare pedigree;
Our actions shew what our deservings bee;
Which yee men partly know, and must confesse,
That we have sent you succour, in distresse.
Here was the Ramme bred, that did bring
Great
Cum liber Pater per desertum Libyae excercitum duceret & siti admodum laboraret; implorasse à Patra auxilium dicitur; Quo facto apparuisse ei ex templo arietem; qui dum fugientem persequitur, peruenisse illo duce ad fontem amaenissimum. Alij terra arietis pede concussa fontem exilijsse tradunt Plin. 1. 6.
When they in Africkes deserts were tormented
With scortching thirst. Those white Geese the prevented
The Gaules from taking of the Capitoll
Were some of us. And that py'd Memphian Bull,
For whom the Egyptians fell at deadly jarres
Was ours. Sertorius in his Spanish warres,
Sought counsell of our Hind. The Asse
Of Apuleius; and the Oxe that was
Heard speake at Rome. The Epidaurian Snake;
And Dogge that dy'd for his deare Masters sake
Were bred with us. The Coblers prating Daw;
And Psapho's Birds did here their first ayre draw;
And so did Mahomets tame Pigeon,
That holpe to found his new religion.
I could tell later prankes, till I were hoarce,
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This place (I tell thee) is the onely Cell,
Where arts enlink'd with rich content doe dwell.
And that thine eye may witnesse what I say;
Here follow me: then he leades me away
Unto a Castle, whose high towred brow
Did checke the winds, and seem'd to over-crow
The cloudes: there Lyons, Tygers, Panthers sweete,
As tame as fawning Spaniels did us meete.
Then to a spacious Hall we came, that stood
On pillars of tough Brasse; nor stone, nor wood
Were seene in it; and there I pleased my sight
With the Picture of the Dulychian Knight:
Eurylochus, and he whose braines were wash'd
So well with Wine, that life and wits were cash'd
Were Pictur'd there, and many a Greeke beside
That with Ulysses there did long abide.
Faire was the stuffe, but thrice more faire the art,
That there was to be seene in every part.
While I admir'd here what mine eyes beheld,
The Ape brought me a cup with wine up fill'd
And bids me drink't; that then I might find grace
To see things farre more rare, in that faire place.
I in my trembling hand receiv'd the cup,
That was of Gold, and dranke the licour up:
Then soone the poysons force did touch my braine,
And through my body crept in every veine:
And while my case I thought to have deplor'd,
Thinking to speake my griefes, aloud I ror'd:
My hands (I saw) were chang'd to grisly pawes
My clothes to shaggie haires; with yawning jawes
My mouth did gape; and I perceiv'd my shape
Was like a Lyons: then began the Ape
With gentle words, to cure my discontent.
Good friend (quoth he) thou shalt thee not repent
Of thy arrivall here; though thou hast lost
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For shrowded in this shape, thou shalt obtaine
More knowledge, then did ever mortall gaine.
Then by long winding stayres, and walkes he drew me,
Unto a spacious roome, where he did shew me,
The Booke, the Gemme, and Magicke horne, all which
If any man can get, he shall be rich,
Long-liv'd, a King, and fortunate,
Yea what he will: the Rings of Polycrate,
Of happie Giges, and wise Iarchas; and
The Sword of Paracelsus, with the wand
Of Circe, and the roote Osirides,
With Zoroastres his Ephimerides;
And those mysterious books which taught great Rome
To make the World obey her awfull doome;
These and an hundred things as strange, beside
The Ape did shew me; also there I spi'd
Lopez his poyson, in a Glasse of Crystall;
Ravillacs bloudy Knife, and Parries Pistoll:
But looking into a darke hurne aside,
I Mattockes, Spades, and Pick-axes descri'd,
With Pouder barrels, heap'd up altogether:
Then did the Ape me lead, I know not whether:
But many stayers deepe, I am sure we went;
That Hels darke way so steepe as this descent,
I weene is not: at last a gloomie cell
We came unto, that seem'd as blacke as Hell,
But for the Torches which there daily burn'd:
Such is the Cell, where (when the Pope's enurn'd)
The Fathers meete, to find another foole.
Fit for the tryall, of the porphyre stoole.
This was their Counsell-house, wherein they sate
Discussing matters, that belong'd to state:
Mischiefes, and treason, warre conspiracies,
False treaties, stratagems, confed'racies,
Were here hatch'd and now hence was comming forth,
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The subtile Dragon, and the Griffon fierce
That seekes the Empire of the Universe:
The Eagle, and the Toade, were here assembled;
To heare whose bloudy projects, my heart trembled:
Against the Northerne Lyons they were bent,
To use all crueltie, and punishment,
For wrongs late done: The Dragon fell doth crie
Th' are Heretickes, and therefore ought to die.
The Griffon sware, t'was not to be allow'd,
That Luth'ranes should their heads in this world shroud.
The Eagle wish'd, he never might be bli'st,
If ere he spar'd a filthy Calvinist.
The spitefull Toad did wish his bones might rot,
If ere he ment to save a Huguenot.
The Dragon much did praise their readinesse,
And promis'd that the action he would blesse,
And vow'd he would be lib'rall of his crosses
To those brave soules, that durst adventure losses
Of lives, or limmes, in that designement; and
If any chanc'd to fall, he would command
The Angels to transport him presently
To heaven, without a Purgatorie.
But that the world might not their malice s[c]ent.
They meant to cast out tales; that their intent
Was to give to Religion, her first grace
And puritie: thus with a painted face
They masked their devilish end. While I gave eare
To their damn'd counsels; I felt a new feare:
For from beneath I heard an hideous sound,
As if some Earthquake dire had cleft the ground
Or Hell her selfe approach to make one
In their mischievous consultation.
So Neptune scourged with the Northwind rores:
Such is the clangour, of a thousand ores
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The Witches in their conventicles have
Such Musicke, as was this: for t'was the noyse
Of the infernall pow'rs, that did rejoyce,
To see that Hellish-plot contriv'd, and wrought,
That might bring all the world againe to nought.
With such obstrep'rous sounds, my sence they strooke,
That I sleepes gentle fetters then off shooke,
Nor is our danger but a dreame (I feare)
So many signes presaging it, appeare.
For what can we expect, but sturdy blowes,
From our combin'd exasperated foes.
Then high time tis fresh courage for to broch
When pale-fac'd death and ruine seemes t'approch.
(Brave Gentlemen) learne to be prodigall
Of bloud; feare nought that may befall
But infamie; meete death in any shape,
And grapple with blacke danger, though he gape
As wide as Hell: know that this life of yours
Is but a breath, or blast, or like Mayes flowers
Yet never is priz'd at so high a rate;
As when tis nobly lost: then animate
Your selves with brave example, and shunne not
That Fate, which our late worthy heroes got,
With endlesse fame to boote. Yea let Spaine know,
And never thinke on't, but with horrour, how
We children are to those, that did defeate
Their great Armada; and them often beate
Abroad, and eke at home, and let proud France
Review those times, when her Warres did advance
Our English Gentlemen. Let that blacke day
Of Agincourt, with terrour still dismay
Her halfe-dead trembling heart: nor ever let her
Expect successe, or any fortune better
'Gainst us: twice with two num'rous Armies shee
Anno Do. 1387 Charles 6. with a Navie of 1200 saile, threatned to invade England, having provided such store of Munition & strange engines, as the like was seldome heard of. Anno Do. 1545 The French with an Armie of 60000 men came for England; but feare their entertainment would prove too hote, faintly and friendly they went home againe.
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Our pale Cliffes, with her paler lookes, and then
Turn'd sterne, and cowardly ranne home agen:
If shee the third time, should attempt the like
Let the like feares her heart appall, and strike.
But (whatsoever betide) t'is meete that we
Should stand upon our gard, and ever be
Prepar'd, both to make good, our owne defence,
And strike our foes: but since experience
Is thought our greatest want there must be found
A medicine to applie to that deepe wound,
Which Discipline is call'd; this wholesome cure
Yee Gentlemen must often put in ure;
Yee, that have charge of Bands, your dutie tis
To traine them up, with frequent exercise.
Nor by your Must'ring once, or twice a yeare,
Doe yee discharge your duties, but I feare
If forraine foes should drive us to our fence,
We all should suffer for your negligence.
Tis rather fitting, that each Month should yeeld
A day, to draw your Souldiers to the field.
For our tough Husbandmen, on whom depends
Our chiefest strength, so mind their proper ends,
That they to weild their Armes have soone forgot,
If often exercise enures them not.
These with their Bowes, of stiffe, and trustie Eugh
The Cavalrie of France oft overthrew.
And in one Month more spoyle, and Conquest wonne
Then they had thought could in a yeare be done.
But now the fierie weapons have cashierd
Those ancient Armes, that made our name so fear'd
Through all the World, nor hath ease so decay'd
Our courage, or our nerves, but by the aid
Of Discipline, we may retrive that Fame
Which we so lately lost; and rayse a name,
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More then the name of Spinola doth fray
Our women, or our women-hearted men.
Nor doe I that old Genovese contemne:
He dares doe much, where we dare not oppose:
He Conquers all, especially leane foes:
If they be fat, they are not for his diet,
He rather an whole twelve-month had lie quiet;
Till they be famish'd to his hand: what though,
He to his fellow Genewayes doth owe
Large summes; his Master will pay all tick-tacke,
If the Platefleete comes home without a wracke,
When that the Towne is wonne: what Towne? Breda
By whom wa'st wonne? by Marques Spinola.
I scarce beleeve't: then goe and see; for there
Upon the gate in scul'pture doth appeare
The mem'rie of that famous enterprise.
How wonn't he; by assault or by surprise?
No: by a famine. In what space? a yeare,
Wanting two monthes. What force had he there?
Twice twentie thousand men. Then there he spent,
More then he got. I, that's most evident.
Yet much renowne he had. I, that or nought,
Though it at a deare rate King Philip bought.
But if Don Ambrose may of Conquest boast,
For taking in the Towne, with so much cost,
And time, and losse; then what did Heraughiere
Deserve; that in one night accomplish'd cleare,
A Conquest more compleate, with seventie men;
Then he so strong, and so long space could win.
As when the cunning Forresters have plac'd
Their wel-woven toyles, and heards of wild beasts chac'd
Into their snares; yet daring not invade
The furious heards, with bore-speare or with blade,
For feare of their fell ire; with a strong gard
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Till pinching famine makes them faint and weake;
And then at will their teene on them they wreake.
Thus was Breda by Spinola obtain'd.
Sharpe famine, not his force, the Citie gain'd.
Ostend to ruines turn'd, he wonne at last
For Phoebus through the Zodiacke thrice had past.
Yet still the Towne held out: some others prate
Of his Acts done in the Palatinate,
Where few were to resist: yet this is hee
That's thought invincible; although wee see
His base retreat from Bergen did well shew
That he may meete his match sometimes. Tis true:
Yet tis not good to thinke our strength so great,
That he dares not against us worke some feate.
Our craggie Cliffes, we ought not to trust to;
Whose hugh Enclosures bound our Iland so.
Ambition dares the roaring billowes passe;
Of force to raine towres of lasting brasse;
Whose cankerd rage we must meete face to face
With Spartane hearts (for so requires our case)
Since for defence we have no Wals of stone,
Our surest gard must be our Wals of bone.
And yee, our unkind brethren that affect
The faire terme of Catholicke in respect
Of your Religion, and with that name,
Contend in vaine, to hide your mothers shame;
Your Mother Rome, that famous Paramore
Of Kings, and Princes, that need Hellebore.
Shee (like Semiramis) is wont to kill
Her Lovers, when of Lust shee hath her fill.
Yee that beneath an English face, doe hood
A Spanish heart, preferring forraine good,
Before your Englands health; alwayes in hand,
Upon the ruines of your native land,
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A Catholicke in Empire, that long since,
Was only fain'd in faith to be the same.
But trust yee not the talke of flatt'ring fame.
That tels you Spaine is mercifull, and just,
Not led by ill desire, or any lust
Of domination, to set footing here,
Least his false play too soone to you appeare,
And yee too late your follies see: let not
Utopian joyes your judgements so besot,
To make you think that change of Government,
Produceth the most absolute content:
Trust not Spaines glosses, but rather conceit
What proud Medina said in eightie eight.
Spaine for Religion fights (as he pretends)
But spoyle, and Conquest, are his mainest ends.
When Paris had stolne his light Minion,
No lesse then fiftie Kings combin'd in one,
Protested, that for this disgracefull rape,
Troy should not their severest vengeance scape:
Yet was not just revenge the chiefest end
Of their designe (whats'ere they did pretend)
For each sought to get Helen for a wife,
And this indeede was cause of so much strife.
Even so your Patrone of Castile protests,
That he his Armes puts on, for a redresse
Of holy Churches wrongs; when he nought lesse
Intends; setting Religion for a stale,
To catch the Empire of the West withall.
Beleeve it, Conquest is his certaine end;
To which, he doth by direst mischiefes tend;
To that through Seas of Guiltlesse bloud he wades,
Cutting his passage out with murd'ring blades:
Or like Amilcars sonne, with flames of fire,
And Vinegar, makes way for his desire.
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Secure spectatours of the Tragedy:
No, no: though for a time yee might be free,
Your lives should make up the Catastrophe.
This priviledge perhaps yee might obtaine,
That is, to be the last that should be slaine.
Then joyne with us; be not so impious,
To stand against your Countries Genius.
Let us together joyne, with hearts upright,
The which shall pray, while our hands ply the fight.
Strive not (like Phaetons jades) to overthrow
Your Master, least yee also fall as low.
Attempt not to unbarre your Countries gate
To forraine foes, least yee repent too late
Your treacherie, for be assur'd that none
Did ever Traitours love (the Treason done.)
The Shorter Poems of Ralph Knevet | ||