Natures Embassie Or, The Wilde-mans Measvres: Danced naked by twelve Satyres, with sundry others continued in the next Section [by Richard Brathwait] |
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 | Natures Embassie |  |
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THE FIRST SATYRE. [OF DEGENERATION.]
Thou
wicked lumpe in a deformed guise,
Tripping like Hymen on his wedding day,
Nature thy former Insolence defies,
Saying thou errest from her natiue way:
For all thy foolish wayes are baits to sin,
Where vertue droupes, and vice comes dancing in.
Tripping like Hymen on his wedding day,
Nature thy former Insolence defies,
Saying thou errest from her natiue way:
For all thy foolish wayes are baits to sin,
Where vertue droupes, and vice comes dancing in.
Doth not thy habite shewt by wanton mind,
Forward to all things but to vertuous life:
Passing those bounds which Nature hath assign'd,
Twixt Art and Nature by commencing strife?
I tell thee, Nature sends me to represse
Thy foolish toyes, thy inbred wantonnesse.
Forward to all things but to vertuous life:
Passing those bounds which Nature hath assign'd,
Twixt Art and Nature by commencing strife?
I tell thee, Nature sends me to represse
Thy foolish toyes, thy inbred wantonnesse.
But thou wilt say, Nature hath made me faire,
Should I rob Beautie of her proper due?
Should I not decke her with embroidred haire,
And garnish her with Flora's vernant hue?
I must, I will, or else should I disgrace
With a rent maske the beautie of my face.
Should I rob Beautie of her proper due?
Should I not decke her with embroidred haire,
And garnish her with Flora's vernant hue?
I must, I will, or else should I disgrace
With a rent maske the beautie of my face.
But I will answer thee for all thy beautie:
If thou wilt be an Ape in gay attire,
Thou doest not execute that forme of dutie,
Which Nature at thy hand seemes to require:
Which not redrest, for all thy goodly port,
Thou must be stript, and whipt, and chastisd for't.
If thou wilt be an Ape in gay attire,
Thou doest not execute that forme of dutie,
Which Nature at thy hand seemes to require:
Which not redrest, for all thy goodly port,
Thou must be stript, and whipt, and chastisd for't.
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Nature hath sent me to forewarne thy wo,
Lest thou secure of thy distresse, reioyce:
If thou wax proud, then where so ere thou go
Thou shalt decline: this resteth in thy choice,
Whether to die branded by Infamie,
Or to preserue thy life in memorie.
Lest thou secure of thy distresse, reioyce:
If thou wax proud, then where so ere thou go
Thou shalt decline: this resteth in thy choice,
Whether to die branded by Infamie,
Or to preserue thy life in memorie.
This thus obserued, wilt thou yet be proud?
And grow ambitious, bearing in thy brow
The stampe of honour, as if thou hadst vow'd
No grace on thy inferiours to bestow?
Proud minikin let fall thy plumes, and crie
Nature, I honour will thy Embassie.
And grow ambitious, bearing in thy brow
The stampe of honour, as if thou hadst vow'd
No grace on thy inferiours to bestow?
Proud minikin let fall thy plumes, and crie
Nature, I honour will thy Embassie.
It was a good time when Eue spun her threed,
And Adam digg'd to earne his food thereby:
But in this time Eues do their panches feed,
With daintie dishes mouing luxurie.
That was the golden age, but this is lead,
Where vice doth flourish, vertue lieth dead.
And Adam digg'd to earne his food thereby:
But in this time Eues do their panches feed,
With daintie dishes mouing luxurie.
That was the golden age, but this is lead,
Where vice doth flourish, vertue lieth dead.
This therefore is my message pend by Truth,
Erected in the honour of Dame Nature,
Inueying gainst Pride, whose aspiring grouth
Disfigureth the beautie of the creature:
Thus haue I spoken that which Nature mou'd me,
Directed to thee, for Dame Nature lou'd thee.
Erected in the honour of Dame Nature,
Inueying gainst Pride, whose aspiring grouth
Disfigureth the beautie of the creature:
Thus haue I spoken that which Nature mou'd me,
Directed to thee, for Dame Nature lou'd thee.
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THE SECOND SATYRE. [OF PLEASURE.]
Pandora the inchantresse.
Pandora, shall she so besot thy mind,
That nothing may remaine for good instruction?
Shall she thy mind in chaines and fetters bind,
Drawing thee onward to thy owne destruction?
Be not so foolish, lest thou be oretaken,
And in thy shipwracke liue as one forsaken.
That nothing may remaine for good instruction?
Shall she thy mind in chaines and fetters bind,
Drawing thee onward to thy owne destruction?
Be not so foolish, lest thou be oretaken,
And in thy shipwracke liue as one forsaken.
For though that Nature which first framed thee,
Seeme to winke at thy crimes a day or two,
Yea many yeares, yet she hath blamed thee
For thy offences, therefore act no more.
Though she delay assure thee she will call,
And thou must pay both vse and principall.
Seeme to winke at thy crimes a day or two,
Yea many yeares, yet she hath blamed thee
For thy offences, therefore act no more.
Though she delay assure thee she will call,
And thou must pay both vse and principall.
She smileth at thy locks brayded with gold,
And in derision of thy selfe-made shape,
Who would beleeue (saith she) this is but mold,
Who trips the streets like to a golden Ape?
Nature concludes, that Art hath got the prize,
And she must yeeld vnto her trumperies.
And in derision of thy selfe-made shape,
Who would beleeue (saith she) this is but mold,
Who trips the streets like to a golden Ape?
Nature concludes, that Art hath got the prize,
And she must yeeld vnto her trumperies.
For I haue seene (saith Nature) what a grace
Art puts vpon me, with her painted colour:
How she Vermillions ore my Maiden-face,
Now nought so faire, though nought before was fouler;
Indeed I am indebted to her loue,
That can giue mouelesse Nature meanes to moue.
Art puts vpon me, with her painted colour:
How she Vermillions ore my Maiden-face,
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Indeed I am indebted to her loue,
That can giue mouelesse Nature meanes to moue.
Thou black-fac'd Trull, how dar'st thou be so bold,
As to create thy selfe another face?
How dar'st thou Natures feature to controle,
Seeking by Art thy former to disgrace?
By heauens I loath thee for thy Panthers skin,
Since what is faire without is foule within.
As to create thy selfe another face?
How dar'st thou Natures feature to controle,
Seeking by Art thy former to disgrace?
By heauens I loath thee for thy Panthers skin,
Since what is faire without is foule within.
Indeed thou art ashamed of thy forme:
And why? because of beautie thou hast none;
Nay rather grace, by which thou may'st adorne
Thy inward part, which chiefly graceth one;
“Complaine of Nature (gracelesse) and despaire,
“Since she hath made thee foule, but others faire.
And why? because of beautie thou hast none;
Nay rather grace, by which thou may'st adorne
Thy inward part, which chiefly graceth one;
“Complaine of Nature (gracelesse) and despaire,
“Since she hath made thee foule, but others faire.
But yet thou wilt be faire, if painting may
Affoord thee grace and beautie in thy brow:
Yet what auailes this fondling? for one day
Painting will ceasse: though painting flourish now;
“Itch not then after fashions in request,
“But those that comeliest are, esteeme them best.
Affoord thee grace and beautie in thy brow:
Yet what auailes this fondling? for one day
Painting will ceasse: though painting flourish now;
“Itch not then after fashions in request,
“But those that comeliest are, esteeme them best.
Yet for all this, I pittie thee poore soule,
In that Dame Nature hath not giuen thee beautie:
Hang downe thy head like to a desart Owle,
Performe in no case to her shrine thy dutie:
Vnto her altar vow no sacrifice,
Nor to her deitie erect thine eyes.
In that Dame Nature hath not giuen thee beautie:
Hang downe thy head like to a desart Owle,
Performe in no case to her shrine thy dutie:
Vnto her altar vow no sacrifice,
Nor to her deitie erect thine eyes.
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Thou hast good cause for to lament thy birth;
For none will court thee smiling at thy feature,
But prize thee as the refuse vpon earth,
Since on my faith thou art an vglie creature,
Yet ill wine's good when it is in the caske,
And thy face faire oreshadow'd with a maske.
For none will court thee smiling at thy feature,
But prize thee as the refuse vpon earth,
Since on my faith thou art an vglie creature,
Yet ill wine's good when it is in the caske,
And thy face faire oreshadow'd with a maske.
O be contented, with thy forme, thy feature,
Since it is good enough for wormes repast,
Yeelding thy due vnto the shrine of Nature,
The fairest faire must yeeld to death at last!
Thinke on thy mould, and thou wilt seriously
Receiue the charge of Natures Embassie.
Since it is good enough for wormes repast,
Yeelding thy due vnto the shrine of Nature,
The fairest faire must yeeld to death at last!
Thinke on thy mould, and thou wilt seriously
Receiue the charge of Natures Embassie.
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THE THIRD SATYRE. [OF AMBITION.]
Thou
wicked Caitiffe proud of being nought,
Wilt thou prouoke thy God to strike thee down
Since he with care and labour hath thee sought,
And diuerse fauours in his mercy showne?
Do not draw downe the viols of his ire,
Lest he reward thy sinne with quenchlesse fire.
Wilt thou prouoke thy God to strike thee down
Since he with care and labour hath thee sought,
And diuerse fauours in his mercy showne?
Do not draw downe the viols of his ire,
Lest he reward thy sinne with quenchlesse fire.
Thou sillie worme compact of slimie mud,
Which shalt returne to earth from whence thou came
Thou which conceiued was of corrupt bloud,
Thou wormlin, how dar'st thou reuile his name?
Farwell thou gracelesse Impe, thou saplesse branch,
Borne to contemne thy God, to cram thy panch.
Which shalt returne to earth from whence thou came
Thou which conceiued was of corrupt bloud,
Thou wormlin, how dar'st thou reuile his name?
Farwell thou gracelesse Impe, thou saplesse branch,
Borne to contemne thy God, to cram thy panch.
Thou Epicure, that liv'st in liuing ill,
Liuing by louing to stretch forth thy gut,
Taking more pleasure thy deepe panch to fill,
Then in thy maker confidence to put:
Thou for thy feeding shalt receiue thy food,
Amongst such vipers as shall sucke thy bloud.
Liuing by louing to stretch forth thy gut,
Taking more pleasure thy deepe panch to fill,
Then in thy maker confidence to put:
Thou for thy feeding shalt receiue thy food,
Amongst such vipers as shall sucke thy bloud.
It is the nature of the viperous brood,
To be the author of their parents death;
Like an Hyrudo they do sucke their bloud,
And take away that breath, which gaue them breath
Thou viperlike disclaimes thy parent's name,
As though to vtter him thou thought it shame.
To be the author of their parents death;
Like an Hyrudo they do sucke their bloud,
And take away that breath, which gaue them breath
Thou viperlike disclaimes thy parent's name,
As though to vtter him thou thought it shame.
Shame on thy naming, if thou wilt denie
Him, who first gaue thee breath and vitall spirit,
Him, who can giue thee true tranquillitie,
Him, who will shew thee meanes how to inherit;
Leaue off thy foolish fantasies, be wise,
Lift vp thy eyes to him who gaue thee eyes.
Him, who first gaue thee breath and vitall spirit,
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Him, who will shew thee meanes how to inherit;
Leaue off thy foolish fantasies, be wise,
Lift vp thy eyes to him who gaue thee eyes.
But if (vngratefull wretch) thou feele his grace,
Yet wilt not yeeld him thanks for all his loue,
Be sure he will auert his diuine face,
And all his wonted mercies cleane remoue;
So thou the swine that breakes the acorne-shell,
Regardest not the tree from whence they fell.
Yet wilt not yeeld him thanks for all his loue,
Be sure he will auert his diuine face,
And all his wonted mercies cleane remoue;
So thou the swine that breakes the acorne-shell,
Regardest not the tree from whence they fell.
Be warn'd by Cæus, who with Giants power,
Thought with his fellowes to clime vp to heauen,
But vanquish'd by his power doth all deuoure,
Under the ruggie mountaines are laid euen,
Therefore beware, aspire thou not so high,
Lest thou lie low, where those same Grants ly.
Thought with his fellowes to clime vp to heauen,
But vanquish'd by his power doth all deuoure,
Under the ruggie mountaines are laid euen,
Therefore beware, aspire thou not so high,
Lest thou lie low, where those same Grants ly.
Thou art a shadow, God the substance is,
Yet insubstantiate, whose Deitie
Doth comprehend all things, for all are his,
Yet he is not contain'd most certainely,
For he is infinite in qualitie,
Endlesse in loue, boundlesse in quantitie.
Yet insubstantiate, whose Deitie
Doth comprehend all things, for all are his,
Yet he is not contain'd most certainely,
For he is infinite in qualitie,
Endlesse in loue, boundlesse in quantitie.
As for his presence, it is euery where,
On sea, on land, and in the depth of depths,
His prouidence in each place doth appeare,
His mercie is for generations kept,
Wilt thou (fond foole) contemne his heauenly power,
Who gouernes thee, point, moment, minute, houre.
On sea, on land, and in the depth of depths,
His prouidence in each place doth appeare,
His mercie is for generations kept,
Wilt thou (fond foole) contemne his heauenly power,
Who gouernes thee, point, moment, minute, houre.
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What though so many will entice to euill,
And in plaine tearmes denie the Deitie?
Let them remaine as fuell for the diuell,
Confesse thou still his power effectually:
Looke in the Planets, and the starres, whose light,
Giues record of his power, signes of his might.
And in plaine tearmes denie the Deitie?
Let them remaine as fuell for the diuell,
Confesse thou still his power effectually:
Looke in the Planets, and the starres, whose light,
Giues record of his power, signes of his might.
If thou looke vpward, bodies there be manie,
Yet trouble they not one anothers motion,
If thou looke downward, there the Sea doth moue thee,
Beating the shores, while shores beate backe the Ocean:
Looke to the earth, and thou wilt wonder there,
To see a Ball so firmely hang in Aire.
Yet trouble they not one anothers motion,
If thou looke downward, there the Sea doth moue thee,
Beating the shores, while shores beate backe the Ocean:
Looke to the earth, and thou wilt wonder there,
To see a Ball so firmely hang in Aire.
But if these motiues limit not thy will,
Then I'le endorse this in thy forlorne brow,
How with thine owne hand, thou thy bloud doest spill,
The fruites whereof thy punishment shall show.
Denie not him who neuer did deny,
For thy default vpon the Crosse to die.
Then I'le endorse this in thy forlorne brow,
How with thine owne hand, thou thy bloud doest spill,
The fruites whereof thy punishment shall show.
Denie not him who neuer did deny,
For thy default vpon the Crosse to die.
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THE FOVRTH SATYRE. [OF VAINEGLORIE.]
Thou
happie Crœsus in thy heapes of gold,
Erect thy selfe a God vpon thy throne,
Let it be framed of a purer mold,
Then of the Pumice, or the marble stone:
Let it be honor'd euen in Crœsus name,
Since golden Crœsus did erect the same.
Erect thy selfe a God vpon thy throne,
Let it be framed of a purer mold,
Then of the Pumice, or the marble stone:
Let it be honor'd euen in Crœsus name,
Since golden Crœsus did erect the same.
Wilt thou indeed, be honour'd for a god,
And with the starres aray thy Princely head?
Be sure ere long to feele an iron rod:
To crush thee downe, and thy accursed seede.
For if thou do denie thy God his right,
He will depriue thy power, abridge thy might.
And with the starres aray thy Princely head?
Be sure ere long to feele an iron rod:
To crush thee downe, and thy accursed seede.
For if thou do denie thy God his right,
He will depriue thy power, abridge thy might.
Art thou a crauling worme, a feeble creature,
And yet dost thinke thy selfe a god on earth?
Canst thou so easily transforme thy nature:
Chang'd to immortall, from a mortall birth?
Poore simple gull, a cockhorse for this god,
No god but man, whose sinnes deserue Gods rod.
And yet dost thinke thy selfe a god on earth?
Canst thou so easily transforme thy nature:
Chang'd to immortall, from a mortall birth?
Poore simple gull, a cockhorse for this god,
No god but man, whose sinnes deserue Gods rod.
Star-staring earthling, puff'd with insolence,
Conceipted of thy selfe without desert,
Comparing with the Deuine excellence,
For which thy follie, thou shalt feele the smart;
Do not thinke God will suffer thee to raigne,
That sleights his workes, and takes his name in vaine.
Conceipted of thy selfe without desert,
Comparing with the Deuine excellence,
For which thy follie, thou shalt feele the smart;
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That sleights his workes, and takes his name in vaine.
And as for Crœsus, if he liue for aye,
Then will I thinke he is a god indeed:
But he ere long shall haue a dying day,
And be inclosed in an earthly weede.
Therefore fond Crœsus, thinke but of thy gold,
As rusticke people of the vilest mold.
Then will I thinke he is a god indeed:
But he ere long shall haue a dying day,
And be inclosed in an earthly weede.
Therefore fond Crœsus, thinke but of thy gold,
As rusticke people of the vilest mold.
Yet thou mayst
vse it Crœsus, to thy good,
So thou repose no confidence therein,
So thou abuse it not, it is allow'd,
Abuse, not vse, is Author of the sinne.
Be not deceiu'd through any false pretence,
To hoord vp coine, and hurt thy conscience.
So thou repose no confidence therein,
So thou abuse it not, it is allow'd,
Abuse, not vse, is Author of the sinne.
Be not deceiu'd through any false pretence,
To hoord vp coine, and hurt thy conscience.
This is a simple traine, a net for fooles,
Not able to deceiue the wiser men.
Fishes be sooner catcht, in glistring pooles,
Then in a troubled creuise, marsh or fen,
But wisest fishes, neuer will appeare,
Where they perceiue the smallest cause of feare.
Not able to deceiue the wiser men.
Fishes be sooner catcht, in glistring pooles,
Then in a troubled creuise, marsh or fen,
But wisest fishes, neuer will appeare,
Where they perceiue the smallest cause of feare.
Thus is the forme of wisedome well explaned,
Euen in a Christall glasse most eminent,
Wherein our distinct natures are contained,
As in a Table aptly pertinent,
How that bewitch'd we are in seeming good,
And that prooues poyson which we tooke for food.
Euen in a Christall glasse most eminent,
Wherein our distinct natures are contained,
As in a Table aptly pertinent,
How that bewitch'd we are in seeming good,
And that prooues poyson which we tooke for food.
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This is my Satyre, Crœsus which I send thee,
To th' end thou mayst admonish'd be of this;
I hope my Satyre will in time amend thee,
And draw thy mind from earth-opinion'd blisse.
Wherefore farewell, and if thou wilt be blessed,
Flie from this rust, by it thy mind's oppressed.
To th' end thou mayst admonish'd be of this;
I hope my Satyre will in time amend thee,
And draw thy mind from earth-opinion'd blisse.
Wherefore farewell, and if thou wilt be blessed,
Flie from this rust, by it thy mind's oppressed.
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THE FIFT SATYRE. [OF CRUELTIE.]
Thou
hellish brood, borne to thine owne offence,
Thou that wilt run into a streame of bloud,
Yet cries againe; It's in mine owne defence,
Hauing no care of vow-linckt brotherhood;
Be thou thine owne destroyer, thine owne foe,
And may thy conscience fret where ere thou goe.
Thou that wilt run into a streame of bloud,
Yet cries againe; It's in mine owne defence,
Hauing no care of vow-linckt brotherhood;
Be thou thine owne destroyer, thine owne foe,
And may thy conscience fret where ere thou goe.
What doest thou get, by getting of a crowne,
Deposing him, that is the lawfull heire?
But cares and feares, and sorrowes of thine owne,
With gastly visions, motiues to despaire?
Lament thy raigne, dominions got by wrong,
May floure awhile, but last they cannot long.
Deposing him, that is the lawfull heire?
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With gastly visions, motiues to despaire?
Lament thy raigne, dominions got by wrong,
May floure awhile, but last they cannot long.
Though Numitor depos'd be by his brother,
Fate hath her stroke, some Romulus will spring,
Or if not Romulus, there will some other
Depose his greatnesse, make himselfe a king.
Thus as he got his kingdome, shedding bloud,
He of his bloudie purchase reapes small good.
Fate hath her stroke, some Romulus will spring,
Or if not Romulus, there will some other
Depose his greatnesse, make himselfe a king.
Thus as he got his kingdome, shedding bloud,
He of his bloudie purchase reapes small good.
Where Iurisdiction is obtain'd by might,
Without apparent right vnto the crowne,
Shall soone extinguish all her former light,
And change her forme like to the waining Moone.
For such vsurping kings as aime at all,
Shall misse their aime, and with their Scepter fall.
Without apparent right vnto the crowne,
Shall soone extinguish all her former light,
And change her forme like to the waining Moone.
For such vsurping kings as aime at all,
Shall misse their aime, and with their Scepter fall.
And thou Pigmalion, who art neuer fil'd,
But euer gapes for riches and for gold,
Till thou with might thy Brothers bloud hast spil'd,
Or till thy yauning mouth be stopt with mold,
Either repent thy wrong, or thou shalt heare,
A thousand Furies buzzing in thine eare.
But euer gapes for riches and for gold,
Till thou with might thy Brothers bloud hast spil'd,
Or till thy yauning mouth be stopt with mold,
Either repent thy wrong, or thou shalt heare,
A thousand Furies buzzing in thine eare.
Foolish Astyages that meanes to raigne,
And plant thy throne on earth eternally,
I tell thee (doting King) though thou disdaine,
Cyrus should raigne, he will part stakes with thee:
No, he'le haue all, thou art his subiect made,
And with his vine all Asia's shadowed.
And plant thy throne on earth eternally,
I tell thee (doting King) though thou disdaine,
Cyrus should raigne, he will part stakes with thee:
No, he'le haue all, thou art his subiect made,
And with his vine all Asia's shadowed.
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Though thou do marry, and assure to wife,
Thy faire Mandanes, to a countrey squire,
That her meane marriage might secure thy life,
A king shall spring from such an homely sire.
It is in vaine to plot, when gods resist,
Who can defeate our proiects as they list.
Thy faire Mandanes, to a countrey squire,
That her meane marriage might secure thy life,
A king shall spring from such an homely sire.
It is in vaine to plot, when gods resist,
Who can defeate our proiects as they list.
What Polynices, wilt thou fight, with whom?
With thine owne brother deare Eteocles;
Will you contend, since you be both as one?
Cleon will neuer fight with Pericles;
Then why will you, the children of one sire,
Against each other mutually conspire?
With thine owne brother deare Eteocles;
Will you contend, since you be both as one?
Cleon will neuer fight with Pericles;
Then why will you, the children of one sire,
Against each other mutually conspire?
Fie on you both, what sauage crueltie,
Hath thus possest you in your tender age,
Brother gainst brother most inhumanely,
To shew your selues as Men in beastly rage?
Farewell vngodly Twins, borne for debate,
When Ruine knocks, Repentance comes too late.
Hath thus possest you in your tender age,
Brother gainst brother most inhumanely,
To shew your selues as Men in beastly rage?
Farewell vngodly Twins, borne for debate,
When Ruine knocks, Repentance comes too late.
Farewell Astyages, that reignes for aye,
And thou Pigmalion, who do'st gape for wealth,
Amulius too, who learning to obay,
Perceiues how Realmes decline that's got by stealth.
Farewell, and if my tart lines chance to spite ye,
My Satyre sayes, A dead dog cannot bite me.
And thou Pigmalion, who do'st gape for wealth,
Amulius too, who learning to obay,
Perceiues how Realmes decline that's got by stealth.
Farewell, and if my tart lines chance to spite ye,
My Satyre sayes, A dead dog cannot bite me.
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THE SIXT SATYRE. [OF ADULTERIE.]
What
Clytemnestra, com'd so soone abroad,
Forth of Ægistus bed thy husbands foe!
What is the cause thou makest so short abode,
Is it because thy hush and wills thee so?
No it's because he's weary of thy sinne,
Which he once sought, but now is cloyed in.
Forth of Ægistus bed thy husbands foe!
What is the cause thou makest so short abode,
Is it because thy hush and wills thee so?
No it's because he's weary of thy sinne,
Which he once sought, but now is cloyed in.
What's that thou weares about thy downie necke?
O it's a painted heart, a Iewell fit,
For wanton Minions who their beauties decke,
With garish toyes, new Suiters to begit:
Thou hast a painted heart for chastitie,
But a true heart for thy adulterie.
O it's a painted heart, a Iewell fit,
For wanton Minions who their beauties decke,
With garish toyes, new Suiters to begit:
Thou hast a painted heart for chastitie,
But a true heart for thy adulterie.
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Speake on Adultresse, let me heare thy tongue,
Canst varnish ore thy sin with eloquence?
Silence; such sinnes should make the sinner dumbe,
And force his speech to teare-swolne penitence;
Do not then shadow thy lasciuious deeds,
For which the heart of Agamemnon bleeds.
Canst varnish ore thy sin with eloquence?
Silence; such sinnes should make the sinner dumbe,
And force his speech to teare-swolne penitence;
Do not then shadow thy lasciuious deeds,
For which the heart of Agamemnon bleeds.
Leaue of (foule strumpet: keepe thy husbands bed,
Thou hast no interest in Ægistus sheetes:
Infamous acts, though closely done are spred,
And will be blaz'd and rumour'd in the streetes.
Flie from this scandall, lest it soile thy name,
Which blemisht once, is nere made good againe.
Thou hast no interest in Ægistus sheetes:
Infamous acts, though closely done are spred,
And will be blaz'd and rumour'd in the streetes.
Flie from this scandall, lest it soile thy name,
Which blemisht once, is nere made good againe.
Is not thy husband worthy of thy loue?
Too worthy husband of a worthlesse whoore,
Then rather chuse to die then to remoue:
Thy chast-vowd steps from Agamemnons boore?
He's thine, thou his, O may it then appeare,
Where ere he is, that thou art onely there.
Too worthy husband of a worthlesse whoore,
Then rather chuse to die then to remoue:
Thy chast-vowd steps from Agamemnons boore?
He's thine, thou his, O may it then appeare,
Where ere he is, that thou art onely there.
But for Hyppolitus to be incited
By his step-mother, O incestuous!
And to his fathers bed to be inuited:
What fact was euer heard more odious?
But see (chast youth) though she perswade him to it,
Nature forbids, and he's asham'd to do it.
By his step-mother, O incestuous!
And to his fathers bed to be inuited:
What fact was euer heard more odious?
But see (chast youth) though she perswade him to it,
Nature forbids, and he's asham'd to do it.
You painted Monkies that will nere restraine,
Your hote desires from lusts-pursuing chase,
Shall be consumed in a quenchlesse flame,
Not reft of griefe, though you were reft of grace,
Bereft of grace, and buried in shame,
Regardlesse of your honour, birth, or name.
Your hote desires from lusts-pursuing chase,
Shall be consumed in a quenchlesse flame,
Not reft of griefe, though you were reft of grace,
30
Regardlesse of your honour, birth, or name.
I can discerne you by your wanton toyes,
Your strutting like Dame Iuno in her throne,
Casting concealed fauours vnto boyes:
These common things are into habits growne,
And when you haue no fauours to bestow,
Lookes are the lures which draw affections bow.
Your strutting like Dame Iuno in her throne,
Casting concealed fauours vnto boyes:
These common things are into habits growne,
And when you haue no fauours to bestow,
Lookes are the lures which draw affections bow.
Trust me I blush, to see your impudence,
Sure you no women are, whose brazen face,
Shewes modestie ha's there no residence,
Incarnate diuels that are past all grace;
Yet sometimes wheate growes with the fruitlesse tares,
You haue fallne oft, now fall vnto your prayers.
Sure you no women are, whose brazen face,
Shewes modestie ha's there no residence,
Incarnate diuels that are past all grace;
Yet sometimes wheate growes with the fruitlesse tares,
You haue fallne oft, now fall vnto your prayers.
32
THE SEVENTH SATYRE. [OF INCEST.]
How
now fond Tereus, whither rid'st so fast,
To Progne or to Itis? O, it's true,
Thou goest vnto thy sister, made vnchast,
By thy enforced rape, for she nere knew
What lusts-embraces meant, till thou hadst taught her,
Which gaue her cause of sorrowing euer after.
To Progne or to Itis? O, it's true,
Thou goest vnto thy sister, made vnchast,
By thy enforced rape, for she nere knew
What lusts-embraces meant, till thou hadst taught her,
Which gaue her cause of sorrowing euer after.
Come backe againe, go to thy chast wiues bed,
Wrong not the honour of a spotlesse wife,
What fruite yeelds lust when thou hast surfeted,
But wretched death, drawne from a wicked life?
Returne fond lustfull man, do not dishonour
Poore Phylomele, for heauens eyes looke on her.
Wrong not the honour of a spotlesse wife,
What fruite yeelds lust when thou hast surfeted,
But wretched death, drawne from a wicked life?
Returne fond lustfull man, do not dishonour
Poore Phylomele, for heauens eyes looke on her.
It may be thou alledg'st, rusticity
Appeareth in the fashions of thy Deare;
Is this a cloake to liue licentiously?
No, if her breeding more vnciuill were,
These should not be occasions of thy shame,
For in discretion thou shouldst couer them.
Appeareth in the fashions of thy Deare;
Is this a cloake to liue licentiously?
No, if her breeding more vnciuill were,
These should not be occasions of thy shame,
For in discretion thou shouldst couer them.
33
Thou art that Rusticke, she the modest flower,
Not seeking for to grow with other plants
Then with thy selfe, though thou for euery boore,
Suites thy affection, yet affection wants:
She loues, thou lusts, thine is a borrowed name,
For shame-fast loue needs neuer blush for shame.
Not seeking for to grow with other plants
Then with thy selfe, though thou for euery boore,
Suites thy affection, yet affection wants:
She loues, thou lusts, thine is a borrowed name,
For shame-fast loue needs neuer blush for shame.
How now Prince Phineus, where's thy childrens eyes,
Are they put out, who mou'd thee to offend?
Was it Idæa, whom the gods defies?
Whom neither heauen nor earth can well commend.
It was Idæa, she the Step-dame cries,
Haste Phineus haste, pull out thy childrens eyes.
Are they put out, who mou'd thee to offend?
Was it Idæa, whom the gods defies?
Whom neither heauen nor earth can well commend.
It was Idæa, she the Step-dame cries,
Haste Phineus haste, pull out thy childrens eyes.
He'le do it for thee, there's no question why,
To faire Idæa, chast Queene to his bed,
He should the murdring of his soule deny,
Much lesse to cause his childrens bloud be shed;
See step-dames see, how hatefull is your guilt:
When to raise yours, anothers bloud is spilt!
To faire Idæa, chast Queene to his bed,
He should the murdring of his soule deny,
Much lesse to cause his childrens bloud be shed;
See step-dames see, how hatefull is your guilt:
When to raise yours, anothers bloud is spilt!
Murder thy children, put out Orphans eyes,
God cannot salue their extreame heauinesse:
He cannot heare them when they make their cries,
Nor can he comfort them in their distresse.
Yes, he can heare and see, and though he come
With a slow pace, he will at last strike home.
God cannot salue their extreame heauinesse:
He cannot heare them when they make their cries,
Nor can he comfort them in their distresse.
Yes, he can heare and see, and though he come
With a slow pace, he will at last strike home.
Then grieue, but let not griefe driue to despaire;
Trust, but les Trust breed no securitie,
For crying sinnes when they presuming are,
Oft wound so deepe they find no remedie.
Farewell Idæa, may my Satyre heare,
For each bloud-drop th' ast shed, thou shedst a teare.
Trust, but les Trust breed no securitie,
For crying sinnes when they presuming are,
Oft wound so deepe they find no remedie.
34
For each bloud-drop th' ast shed, thou shedst a teare.
38
THE EIGHT SATYRE. [OF BLASPHEMIE.]
Now
stout Caligula that dar'st the gods,
Saying, they must not frowne vpon thy pleasure,
Thou and immortall powers are still at odds,
Whose gold's thy god, whose deitie's thy treasure.
Thou'lt feele the smart hereof, when thy estate,
Founded on frailtie shall be ruinate.
Saying, they must not frowne vpon thy pleasure,
Thou and immortall powers are still at odds,
Whose gold's thy god, whose deitie's thy treasure.
Thou'lt feele the smart hereof, when thy estate,
Founded on frailtie shall be ruinate.
Thou wilt not feare him while thou liues on earth,
Though life and power, and all be in his hand,
Thou'lt fight with him (poore worme) that giues thee breath,
And with the breath of flesh checke Ioues command.
Unhappie Prince, though thou the happiest seeme,
This reigne of thine is but a golden dreame.
Though life and power, and all be in his hand,
Thou'lt fight with him (poore worme) that giues thee breath,
And with the breath of flesh checke Ioues command.
Unhappie Prince, though thou the happiest seeme,
This reigne of thine is but a golden dreame.
And when this dreame is past, and thou awake,
From thy soule-charming slumber thou must on,
Taking thy iourney to the Stygian lake,
Or flame exhaling quenchlesse Phlegeton,
Where poysoned Adders shall infect thy tongue,
Which did so impiously her maker wrong.
From thy soule-charming slumber thou must on,
39
Or flame exhaling quenchlesse Phlegeton,
Where poysoned Adders shall infect thy tongue,
Which did so impiously her maker wrong.
Flie from the horror of thy damned soule,
For sure ere long thou shalt be punished.
See how thy soule deformed is and foule,
Soiled with sinne, with errours blemished.
O wash them then, some hope doth yet remaine,
But now vnwasht they'le nere be white againe!
For sure ere long thou shalt be punished.
See how thy soule deformed is and foule,
Soiled with sinne, with errours blemished.
O wash them then, some hope doth yet remaine,
But now vnwasht they'le nere be white againe!
Art not asham'd for to denie his power,
Who giueth life vnto each liuing thing?
To heauen, to earth, to sea, and to each flower,
He giueth meanes, for by him all things spring.
Who will not then, and knowing this, account
The earth's the Lords, and he's Lord Paramount?
Who giueth life vnto each liuing thing?
To heauen, to earth, to sea, and to each flower,
He giueth meanes, for by him all things spring.
Who will not then, and knowing this, account
The earth's the Lords, and he's Lord Paramount?
Doest thou not see the fabricke of this earth,
And all the plants which flourish in their kind,
How by his power each creature bringeth forth,
As if indeed they knew their makers mind:
Where th' very earth-worme that's endu'd with sence,
Is not excluded from his prouidence?
And all the plants which flourish in their kind,
How by his power each creature bringeth forth,
As if indeed they knew their makers mind:
Where th' very earth-worme that's endu'd with sence,
Is not excluded from his prouidence?
Then leaue this damn'd opinion, Iulian,
Be not too confident of earthly rule:
Remember still thou art a mortall man,
And in his power who can the seas controule.
It's he can make this earths foundation shudder,
Whose Empires reach from one Sea to another.
Be not too confident of earthly rule:
Remember still thou art a mortall man,
And in his power who can the seas controule.
It's he can make this earths foundation shudder,
Whose Empires reach from one Sea to another.
40
Yet thou Caligula canst threat the gods,
If they descend but in a winters showre,
And saist in scorne, Thou'lt beate them with thy rods,
If they hold on, vpon thy games to lowre.
Yet cowardize constraines thee for to flie,
At euery flash, and like a Babe to crie.
If they descend but in a winters showre,
And saist in scorne, Thou'lt beate them with thy rods,
If they hold on, vpon thy games to lowre.
Yet cowardize constraines thee for to flie,
At euery flash, and like a Babe to crie.
Thou'lt menace death vnto Eternitie,
If they obey not thy imperious pleasure:
Thus gods themselues must feele thy tyrannie,
Enioynd to dance attendance at thy leysure:
Yet for all this, if thou but Thunder heares,
Thou pulls thy cap downe ore thy frighted eares.
If they obey not thy imperious pleasure:
Thus gods themselues must feele thy tyrannie,
Enioynd to dance attendance at thy leysure:
Yet for all this, if thou but Thunder heares,
Thou pulls thy cap downe ore thy frighted eares.
So euery false Apostate will be stout,
Before he feele the Uiols of Gods wrath:
But when he tasts thereof he gins to doubt,
And calls to mind how he forsooke his faith.
His fall from which, confessing with his tong,
His tongue is speaking, but his heart is dombe.
Before he feele the Uiols of Gods wrath:
But when he tasts thereof he gins to doubt,
And calls to mind how he forsooke his faith.
His fall from which, confessing with his tong,
His tongue is speaking, but his heart is dombe.
Dumbe shalt thou be, for heauen will haue it so,
Since thou appliest thy tongue to wickednesse,
Abusing that, gainst him who did bestow
All that thou hast, this's thy vnthankefulnes.
Yet but relent, and doubt not to obtaine,
That heauenly grace, which else thou canst not gaine.
Since thou appliest thy tongue to wickednesse,
Abusing that, gainst him who did bestow
All that thou hast, this's thy vnthankefulnes.
Yet but relent, and doubt not to obtaine,
That heauenly grace, which else thou canst not gaine.
Gracelesse beware, and feare the power of heauen,
Who can destroy thee in a minutes space,
He who can make, the steepest mountaines euen,
Whose footstoole's earth, & heauen his dwelling place.
Feare, gracelesse feare, and thou shalt liue for euer,
For feare giues life to death, health to the liuer.
Who can destroy thee in a minutes space,
He who can make, the steepest mountaines euen,
Whose footstoole's earth, & heauen his dwelling place.
41
For feare giues life to death, health to the liuer.
Liue thou shalt neuer, if thou do not care
To shew respect to th' supreme Maiestie,
He whom we feare, who tenders our wel-fare,
And guides vs in this vale of miserie.
Pagan thou art, vnlesse thou do amend,
Whose endlesse sinnes expect a wofull end.
To shew respect to th' supreme Maiestie,
He whom we feare, who tenders our wel-fare,
And guides vs in this vale of miserie.
Pagan thou art, vnlesse thou do amend,
Whose endlesse sinnes expect a wofull end.
Therefore as thou regardst thy sweete soules health,
Or honour of thy Maker, now reclaime
Thy breach of faith stain'd with the worlds filth,
If thou a sonne of Syon meanes to raigne.
Fare well or ill; if well thou meanes to fare,
Vnto the Temple of thy God repaire.
Or honour of thy Maker, now reclaime
Thy breach of faith stain'd with the worlds filth,
If thou a sonne of Syon meanes to raigne.
Fare well or ill; if well thou meanes to fare,
Vnto the Temple of thy God repaire.
43
THE NINTH SATYRE. [OF BEGGARIE.]
Hyppeas, your cloake I craue, that is my due,
Your stockings too, and such like toyes as these,
Free to bestow a Bountie were in you,
And yet a debt, for you do know my fee's.
But Debt to mention I do think't vnfit,
When Bountie is so neare to answer it.
Your stockings too, and such like toyes as these,
Free to bestow a Bountie were in you,
And yet a debt, for you do know my fee's.
But Debt to mention I do think't vnfit,
When Bountie is so neare to answer it.
44
And yet I want, and yet what can I want,
When He of whom I craue's so prone to giue?
When store by Ioue is sent, there is no scant,
All famine leaue, and all in plentie liue.
See what thou wants then Minthos, and but craue it,
Hyppeus is stor'd, and thou art sure to haue it.
When He of whom I craue's so prone to giue?
When store by Ioue is sent, there is no scant,
All famine leaue, and all in plentie liue.
See what thou wants then Minthos, and but craue it,
Hyppeus is stor'd, and thou art sure to haue it.
Belt, Beuer, Buskin, view from top to toe,
See what thou wants his Wardrope will supply,
And laugh at him when thou hast vs'd him so,
And bid him triumph in his victory.
Let him go nak'd, and boast what he hath doue,
Whilest thou enioyes the Booties he hath won.
See what thou wants his Wardrope will supply,
And laugh at him when thou hast vs'd him so,
And bid him triumph in his victory.
Let him go nak'd, and boast what he hath doue,
Whilest thou enioyes the Booties he hath won.
Yet tearme him Prince of bountie, and requite
In seeming Protestations, and in vowes,
Yet care not for him when he's out of sight;
For those thriue best who can make fairest shows:
In speaking much, but little as they meane,
And being such, but not the same they seeme.
In seeming Protestations, and in vowes,
Yet care not for him when he's out of sight;
For those thriue best who can make fairest shows:
In speaking much, but little as they meane,
And being such, but not the same they seeme.
I would I could, thus maist thou bring him on,
I could extend my wealth vnto my will,
I would erect to show what you haue done,
Some Time-outliuing Monument, to fill
The world with amazement, when they heare
What you haue bene, and what your actions were.
I could extend my wealth vnto my will,
I would erect to show what you haue done,
Some Time-outliuing Monument, to fill
The world with amazement, when they heare
What you haue bene, and what your actions were.
And then impart thy want, how fortunes are
Vnequally deuided, yet to such
As He whose Bountie giues to each his share,
Though much he hath, yet ha's he not too much:
And then with cap in hand beseech his worth,
Be good to thee, that's borne of obscure birth.
Vnequally deuided, yet to such
As He whose Bountie giues to each his share,
Though much he hath, yet ha's he not too much:
45
Be good to thee, that's borne of obscure birth.
Indeed thou seemes to be an obscure Asse,
A spacious Beggar, begging euery where,
Who wilt not suffer a patcht boote to passe,
But thou wilt beg it for thy leg that's bare.
Indeed too bare thou art, too impudent,
That with thy owne state canst not be content.
A spacious Beggar, begging euery where,
Who wilt not suffer a patcht boote to passe,
But thou wilt beg it for thy leg that's bare.
Indeed too bare thou art, too impudent,
That with thy owne state canst not be content.
Pesantlike Bastard, hate thy Beggarie,
Liue on thy owne, not on anothers state;
Thou that descendest from base penurie,
Wilt by thy Begging liue at higher rate?
Numbred thou art amongst such men as begs,
The smoke of Chimnies, snuffes, and Vintner's dregs.
Liue on thy owne, not on anothers state;
Thou that descendest from base penurie,
Wilt by thy Begging liue at higher rate?
Numbred thou art amongst such men as begs,
The smoke of Chimnies, snuffes, and Vintner's dregs.
Thou art defam'd, for all deride thy kneeling,
Thy capping, cringing, and thy temporizing,
As if thou hadst of modestie no feeling,
But from anothers razing drew thy rising.
Well, for thy begging we will beg for thee,
The Pattent of disgrace and infamie.
Thy capping, cringing, and thy temporizing,
As if thou hadst of modestie no feeling,
But from anothers razing drew thy rising.
Well, for thy begging we will beg for thee,
The Pattent of disgrace and infamie.
So with thy wallet as a beggar should,
Be not asham'd to seeme that which thou art,
Sowe patch on patch, to keepe thee from the cold,
And shew thy want in each seame-rented part:
But do not rere thy fortunes on mens fall,
For such base Beggars are the worst of all.
Be not asham'd to seeme that which thou art,
Sowe patch on patch, to keepe thee from the cold,
And shew thy want in each seame-rented part:
But do not rere thy fortunes on mens fall,
For such base Beggars are the worst of all.
46
I write not to thee in a sublime stile,
Such is vnfit thy errors to conuince;
Satyres though rough, are plaine and must reuile
Uice with a Cynicke bluntnesse, as long since
Those graue iudicious Satyrists did vse,
Who did not taxe the time, but times abuse.
Such is vnfit thy errors to conuince;
Satyres though rough, are plaine and must reuile
Uice with a Cynicke bluntnesse, as long since
Those graue iudicious Satyrists did vse,
Who did not taxe the time, but times abuse.
And yet I wish my pen were made of steele,
And euery leafe, a leafe of lasting brasse,
Which might beare record to this Commonweale,
When this Age's past, to Ages that shall passe.
But these as others must, shall lose their name,
And we their Authors too must die with them.
And euery leafe, a leafe of lasting brasse,
Which might beare record to this Commonweale,
When this Age's past, to Ages that shall passe.
But these as others must, shall lose their name,
And we their Authors too must die with them.
Yet well I know, I shall Characterd be,
In liuing letters, prouing what I write,
To be authenticke to posteritie,
To whom this Ages vices I recite.
Which, much I doubt, as they're successiue still,
By course of yeares, so they'le succeed in ill.
In liuing letters, prouing what I write,
To be authenticke to posteritie,
To whom this Ages vices I recite.
Which, much I doubt, as they're successiue still,
By course of yeares, so they'le succeed in ill.
For vice nere dyes intestate, but doth leaue,
Something behind, to shew what it hath bene;
Yea canting knaues that hang on others sleeue,
Can charge their heires still to pursue the streame,
Where Iohn a style bequeathes to Iohn a noke,
His Beggars rags, his dish, his scrip, his poke.
Something behind, to shew what it hath bene;
Yea canting knaues that hang on others sleeue,
Can charge their heires still to pursue the streame,
Where Iohn a style bequeathes to Iohn a noke,
His Beggars rags, his dish, his scrip, his poke.
With which Ile beg; no, with my soule I scorne it,
Ile rather carrie tankards on my backe;
Yet th' trade is thriuing, true, but I'ue forsworne it,
Nor would I beg, though competent I lacke.
Before I should make congies to a swayne,
I would for sweare to take my legs againe.
Ile rather carrie tankards on my backe;
Yet th' trade is thriuing, true, but I'ue forsworne it,
Nor would I beg, though competent I lacke.
47
I would for sweare to take my legs againe.
I am but poore, and yet I scorne to beg.
To be a Bastard to my Progenie,
Yea I will rather with Sycites feg,
Receiue my death, then get me infamie.
I'le be a galley-slaue in Turkish ship.
Rather then scrape my crums out of a scrip.
To be a Bastard to my Progenie,
Yea I will rather with Sycites feg,
Receiue my death, then get me infamie.
I'le be a galley-slaue in Turkish ship.
Rather then scrape my crums out of a scrip.
Bias was poore, and yet his wealth increased,
All that he had he carried still about him;
Bias is dead, his goods by death are seised,
Mydas is poore, his goods were all without him.
Bias and Mydas both agree in this,
Earths blisse when we're in earth quite vanish'd is.
All that he had he carried still about him;
Bias is dead, his goods by death are seised,
Mydas is poore, his goods were all without him.
Bias and Mydas both agree in this,
Earths blisse when we're in earth quite vanish'd is.
Candaules he was rich, yet he was poore,
Rich in his coffers rammed downe with gold,
Yet poore in this, his wife did proue a whoore,
Showne naked vnto Gyges to behold.
Collatine poore, yet rich, his wife is chast.
Both these agree in this, by death embrast.
Rich in his coffers rammed downe with gold,
Yet poore in this, his wife did proue a whoore,
Showne naked vnto Gyges to behold.
Collatine poore, yet rich, his wife is chast.
Both these agree in this, by death embrast.
Irus was poore, but Crœsus passing rich,
Irus his scrip differs from Crœsus board,
Yet now compare them and I know not which,
Is better furnish'd or the worser stor'd:
For see their fates, they both in one agree,
Since by pale Death they both arrested be.
Irus his scrip differs from Crœsus board,
Yet now compare them and I know not which,
48
For see their fates, they both in one agree,
Since by pale Death they both arrested be.
Priscillaes purse,
Demosthenes his hand,
Do differ much, the one is alwayes shut,
The other open, for rewards doth stand;
Yet if we measure either by his foot,
That close-shut purse, and that receiuing hand,
Haue equall shares made by the Sextons wand.
Do differ much, the one is alwayes shut,
The other open, for rewards doth stand;
Yet if we measure either by his foot,
That close-shut purse, and that receiuing hand,
Haue equall shares made by the Sextons wand.
Yet Beggar, thou that begs, and hopes to gaine
Store of rewards, for to relieue thy need.
Or surfet rather, tell me what's thy aime,
When those thou feeds, shall on thy carkasse feed?
For then where's the Beggar now become,
Whose shame's too great, to hide with shroud or tombe?
Store of rewards, for to relieue thy need.
Or surfet rather, tell me what's thy aime,
When those thou feeds, shall on thy carkasse feed?
For then where's the Beggar now become,
Whose shame's too great, to hide with shroud or tombe?
Take these rude Satyres as compos'd by him
Who loues his state farre better then thy trade,
For Beggars lose more then they seeme to win,
Since their esteeme for euer's blemished:
Liue at a lower rate, and beg the lesse.
I'le liue to write, if thou thy fault redresse.
Who loues his state farre better then thy trade,
For Beggars lose more then they seeme to win,
Since their esteeme for euer's blemished:
Liue at a lower rate, and beg the lesse.
I'le liue to write, if thou thy fault redresse.
Amicus non Mendicus.
49
THE TENTH SATYRE. [OF MISERIE.]
Taurus a Iustice rich, but poore in mind,
(Riches make rich-men poore through miserie,)
Had long time liu'd as one in hold confin'd,
With gates close-shut from hospitalitie:
Meanes without men he had him to attend,
Lest what he spar'd his Retinue should spend.
(Riches make rich-men poore through miserie,)
Had long time liu'd as one in hold confin'd,
With gates close-shut from hospitalitie:
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Lest what he spar'd his Retinue should spend.
One time a Traueller chanc'd to repaire
To Taurus house, to quench his vehement thirst,
But he poore man could find no comfort there:
Drinke could he get none, if his heart should burst;
Men he saw none, nor ought to cheare his want,
Saue a Blew-coate without a cognisant.
To Taurus house, to quench his vehement thirst,
But he poore man could find no comfort there:
Drinke could he get none, if his heart should burst;
Men he saw none, nor ought to cheare his want,
Saue a Blew-coate without a cognisant.
The Traueller conceited in distresse,
Straight thus discours'd, his passion to allay:
This Iustice is a Seruing-man'd guesse,
Who leaues his coate at home when he's away:
Therefore I was deceiu'd and did amisse,
To seeke a Iustice where a blew-coate is.
Straight thus discours'd, his passion to allay:
This Iustice is a Seruing-man'd guesse,
Who leaues his coate at home when he's away:
Therefore I was deceiu'd and did amisse,
To seeke a Iustice where a blew-coate is.
But as the Traueller went on his way,
He met the Iustice in a ragged suite,
Who in a Bench-like fashion had him stay,
Saying—He ought a Iustice to salute:
The man at first perplex'd, and now awake,
Tooke heart of grace, and did this answer make.
He met the Iustice in a ragged suite,
Who in a Bench-like fashion had him stay,
Saying—He ought a Iustice to salute:
The man at first perplex'd, and now awake,
Tooke heart of grace, and did this answer make.
Sir, if I haue forgotten my regard
Vnto your place, forgiue my ignorance,
My eye could not discerne you, till I heard
Your selfe report your owne preeminence,
Whose name is Terror, and whose awfull breath,
Is messenger of furie, and of death.
Vnto your place, forgiue my ignorance,
My eye could not discerne you, till I heard
Your selfe report your owne preeminence,
Whose name is Terror, and whose awfull breath,
Is messenger of furie, and of death.
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And great I heare's endowments you possesse,
But worthie greater then you do enioy,
Witnesse your open house, which doth expresse
The care you haue your fortunes to employ
In bounties seruice: your good beere doth show it,
Being kept so well, as none can come vnto it.
But worthie greater then you do enioy,
Witnesse your open house, which doth expresse
The care you haue your fortunes to employ
In bounties seruice: your good beere doth show it,
Being kept so well, as none can come vnto it.
Taurus he stamp'd, cald his attendants knaues,
And so he might, for none could be offended,
Where art thou Tom (quoth he) Iack, George, out slaues,
Faining their voyces, All shall be amended.
Then answers he himselfe, Let none depart,
But entertaine all with a chearefull heart.
And so he might, for none could be offended,
Where art thou Tom (quoth he) Iack, George, out slaues,
Faining their voyces, All shall be amended.
Then answers he himselfe, Let none depart,
But entertaine all with a chearefull heart.
The Traueller though he conceiued all,
Seem'd to admire the bountie of the place,
Till th' badge-lesse coate thas hung within the hall,
Forc'd him to laugh the Iustice in the face.
Why doest thou laugh (quoth he?) I laugh to note,
For want of men, what seruic's in a coate.
Seem'd to admire the bountie of the place,
Till th' badge-lesse coate thas hung within the hall,
Forc'd him to laugh the Iustice in the face.
Why doest thou laugh (quoth he?) I laugh to note,
For want of men, what seruic's in a coate.
52
THE ELEVENTH SATYRE. [OF HYPOCRISIE.]
Claudius is pure, abiuring prophane things,
Nor will he companie with wickednesse:
He hates the source whence leud affections springs,
He'le not consent with deeds of naughtinesse:
Yet he will deale, so none do see his sinne,
Yea though heauens eyes he cares not looke on him.
Nor will he companie with wickednesse:
He hates the source whence leud affections springs,
He'le not consent with deeds of naughtinesse:
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Yea though heauens eyes he cares not looke on him.
He will not speake vnto a Maide in th' streete,
Lest his repute should fall vnto decay:
Yet if they two in priuate chance to meete,
He in a pure embrace will bid her stay.
Saying: I will instruct thee prettie Nan,
How thou shalt be a formall Puritan.
Lest his repute should fall vnto decay:
Yet if they two in priuate chance to meete,
He in a pure embrace will bid her stay.
Saying: I will instruct thee prettie Nan,
How thou shalt be a formall Puritan.
Then drawes he forth to moue the Maids affection,
The forc'd description of their puritie,
How he and she be children of election,
And must be sau'd what ere the wicked be.
For vices are tearm'd vertues, where we make
Lust but an Act for Procreation sake.
The forc'd description of their puritie,
How he and she be children of election,
And must be sau'd what ere the wicked be.
For vices are tearm'd vertues, where we make
Lust but an Act for Procreation sake.
What then are Maids, thus he induceth her,
But Uirgins still that do impart their loue,
To such an One as is their furtherer
In holy zeale, and can the spirit moue?
Nought lesse but more, for there's a heauie væ,
Or curse denounc'd on them that barren be.
But Uirgins still that do impart their loue,
To such an One as is their furtherer
In holy zeale, and can the spirit moue?
Nought lesse but more, for there's a heauie væ,
Or curse denounc'd on them that barren be.
Cloze then in silence, eyes of men are shut,
None can detect vs, but the eyes of heauen,
And when we act, those lights are sealed up,
For vnto vs more libertie is giuen
Then vnto others, since the very name,
Of lust is chang'd when th' righteous vse the same.
None can detect vs, but the eyes of heauen,
And when we act, those lights are sealed up,
For vnto vs more libertie is giuen
Then vnto others, since the very name,
Of lust is chang'd when th' righteous vse the same.
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Thou hypocrite, whose counterfeited zeale,
Makes thee seeme godly to the worelds eye,
Yet doest the golden fruites of Vesta steale.
When thou perceiues no man thy sins doth spie.
Leaue this dissembled zeale, for thou art knowne
The wickedst sinner, when thy inside's showne.
Makes thee seeme godly to the worelds eye,
Yet doest the golden fruites of Vesta steale.
When thou perceiues no man thy sins doth spie.
Leaue this dissembled zeale, for thou art knowne
The wickedst sinner, when thy inside's showne.
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THE TWELFTH SATYRE. [OF EXCESSE.]
Phyloxenus lookes lanke with abstinence:
Poore man I pittie him, I thinke he's sicke;
No, this his seeming is a false pretence,
The greedie Cormorant will each thing licke:
Whose drum-stretch'd case can scarce his guts containe
Since he hath got the gullet of a Crane.
Poore man I pittie him, I thinke he's sicke;
No, this his seeming is a false pretence,
The greedie Cormorant will each thing licke:
Whose drum-stretch'd case can scarce his guts containe
Since he hath got the gullet of a Crane.
Thou thinkes there is no pleasure but in feeding,
Making thy selfe,
slaue to thy appetite;
Yet whilest thou crams thy selfe, thy soule is bleeding,
And Turtle-like mournes, that thou shouldst delight,
In such excesse as causeth infamie,
Starues soule, spoiles health, and ends with beggarie.
Making thy selfe,
Like those unsatiable gluttons Uitellius and Appius to which Cormorants neither land, water nor aire might be sufficient. And Cambletes the gluttonous king of Lydia deuoured in a dreame his wife while she lay sleeping together in the same bed and finding her hand betweene his teeth when be awaked, he slue himselfe, fearing dishonour.
Yet whilest thou crams thy selfe, thy soule is bleeding,
And Turtle-like mournes, that thou shouldst delight,
In such excesse as causeth infamie,
Starues soule, spoiles health, and ends with beggarie.
Remember (thou besott'd) for I must talke,
And that with serious passion, thou that tasts
The choycest wines, and doest to Tauernes walke,
Where thou consumes the night in late repasts.
Confusion now, drawes neare thee where thou kneeles,
Drinking deepe healthes, but no contrition feeles.
And that with serious passion, thou that tasts
The choycest wines, and doest to Tauernes walke,
Where thou consumes the night in late repasts.
Confusion now, drawes neare thee where thou kneeles,
Drinking deepe healthes, but no contrition feeles.
It may be, He that teacheth may be taught,
And Socrates of Softenes may learne,
Euen He, that for thy good these precepts brought,
To publicke light, may in himselfe discerne
Something blameworthie, true, and heauen he could,
Reforme his errors rightly as He would.
And Socrates of Softenes may learne,
Euen He, that for thy good these precepts brought,
To publicke light, may in himselfe discerne
Something blameworthie, true, and heauen he could,
Reforme his errors rightly as He would.
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But harder is't by much for to performe,
Then to prescribe, where many seeme to vrge,
The present times abuse, but n'ere reforme
Those crimes in them which they in others scourge:
But where the Author makes vse of his paines,
As well as Reader, there's a double gaines.
Then to prescribe, where many seeme to vrge,
The present times abuse, but n'ere reforme
Those crimes in them which they in others scourge:
But where the Author makes vse of his paines,
As well as Reader, there's a double gaines.
And these are th' gaines which I do sue to haue,
Seeking no lesse thy benefit herein,
Then my peculiar good: where all I craue,
Is but thy prayer to purge me of my sinne.
I do not write, as I my paines would sell,
To euery Broker, vse them and farewell.
Nam inepto risu res nulla ineptior est.
Seeking no lesse thy benefit herein,
Then my peculiar good: where all I craue,
Is but thy prayer to purge me of my sinne.
I do not write, as I my paines would sell,
To euery Broker, vse them and farewell.
Catull.
Finis Satyrarum.
An end of the Satyres composed by the foresaid Author in the discharge of Natures Embassie: purposely penned to reclaime man, whose vicious life promising an vnhappie end, must now be taxed more sharply, since vice comes to greatest growth through impunitie.
| Natures Embassie | |