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Pocula Castalia

The Authors Motto. Fortunes Tennis-Ball. Eliza. Poems. Epigrams. &c. By R. B. [i.e Robert Baron]

Baron, Robert

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THE AUTHORS MOTTO.

FORTVNES TENNIS-BALL.

ELIZA

POEMS.

EPIGRAMS, &c.

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FORTVNES TENNIS-BALL.

A Moral Fable.

Si Fortvna volet fies de Rhetore Consul.
JUVEN.

TO The Choicest of my Noble Friends, John Wroth Esquire.

I'm big with love. How shall I (gentle Wroth)
Set it, and th'cause of it, thy merit, forth?
I'm no rare Herald to fetch far thy name,
Or patch together coates to cloath thy Fame,
Yet I doe more than that when call thee Good;
For Vertue's higher noblenesse than blood.

I'm no grave Antiquary, to present
Old Medals, or some dusty Monument
Of some great Ancestor, by Reliques foes
Envy and Time, rob'd of an Eare or Nose.
For Worth I will not rake their sleeping Urnes,
That which but glow'd in them, in thee bright burnes.
Thee, who had old Rome in her Glory seen,
Thou 'mongst her hundred Statues plac'd had'st been:
But safe in them thy Name could not have stood,

From Times sharp teeth, even them he makes his food.
The Memphian wonders that so long did boast
Their neighbourhood and kin to Heaven, are forc't
To bow their proud tops, and begin a new
Acquaintance with low Earth, where first they grew.
Rhodes haughty Colosse that bestrid the Floud,
Is now but Aier wherein once it stood,
And needs the everlasting Muse to tell
The World it once had such a Miracle.

The Muse 'twas furnish'd Heaven with Deities;
Fames Roll with Hero's, and with Stars the Skies.
Her workes will last, 'twas She that Power did give
To some men longer than those Pyles to live.
And if that I finde grace with her to grow
In favour, shee shall doe much more for you.

Yours, More than mine own. Robert Baron.

TVCHESPHAIRA: OR, Fortunes Tennis BALL.

1

Great Cesar's Barne, Romes life, and Granary,
That so august, so great, so fertile Isle,
Where th'kicking Monster on his back doth lie,
Spitting forth flames through the Ætnean pile,
Whose smothering smoke, & sparkles at random driven
Do seem to lend new clouds and Starres to Heaven.

2

Therevtvs rul'd; A far worse man than King,
A Zealous Vot'ry of Diana's borne,
His shrill voice made each Quire of Eccho's ring,
His onely musicke was the Hunting Horne,
And game to see his flapmouth'd kennell follow
The chase, and yelping keep time with his hollow.

3

Neere to Palermo was a flowrie valley,
Levell'd and trim'd by sweating Mowers hand,
Some Rivolets slide swift, some slowly dally
With the even bosome of the sluced Land.
There Nature wanton was, and the high way
Did seeme inclosed, though it open lay.

4

Pastures in Flora's tapst'rie clad were gay,
With golden eares to pay the Ploughmans fees
Each field shon bright, the scaly Nations play
In flowing cristall, fring'd with wavering trees.
As if Industry joynd with Art so nice
To represent or excell Paradise.

5

But to what end if man was banish'd thence,
Was this Elizian Palace of delight?
What though the West hath gems, th'East Frankincense,
If this feasts not our smell, nor those our sight?
What ere is faire or good was made for use,
And the not use of things is things abuse.

6

No wight durst tread that in-vaine pleasant soyle,
For the adjoyning Thicket and curl'd Grove
Shelter'd a Boar Amyntas hopes did spoile,
Like him that toar from Love-sick Love her Love.
This fate (Woods mutter) he deserv'd, hunting there,
When Venvs would be's Parke, if he her Deere.

7

His jawes with double sword, his back was arm'd
With a set Battaile of Pikes sharpe and brisly,
His crooked tushes slew, not lightly harm'd
What ere he kist with's Urchin snout so grisly.
His foam besnow'd the trampled corn, the fair
Meads he plough'd up, his fume inflam'd the aire.

8

The Rosie-finger'd Morn did there disclose
Her beauty ruddy as a blushing Bride,
Gilding the Marygold, painting the Rose,
With Indian Chrysolites her cheekes were dy'd:
But when this Monster rouz'd him in the vale,
Feare chas'd her blush, and frighted Day look't pale.

9

The Sun durst not see him devoure his Prey,
But peeping through the leaves of Poplars green,
They shak'd; and trembling streames did run away
Groaning, and crowding strove to passe unseen.
Birds, Beasts, yea buzzing Flies petition'd Nature
To stop his breath, or change his ugly feature.

10

This prodigy of Nature and the Wood,
The fields Mower, the Mowers terror, water'd
Parch'd droughty Pastures with a crimson floud,
Then made them white with bones of bodies slaughter'd.
Hardie Therevtvs long'd to see this Beast,
(Fierce as himselfe) come smoaking to a feast.

11

His Hounds by fast made eager of the Prey,
His Javelin whetted sharpe as Crocea Mors,
Clad all in green, as he were Son of May,
He mounts his well-breath'd wind-out-running Horse.
Now like the God that beares the silver Bow,
Encountring with huge Python, did he show.

12

Ere village Cocks (the Labourers shrill Alarms)
Had thrice done Salutation to the morne,
He rouzed Eccho from Narcissus armes,
Instead of Chaunticleer his earely Horn
Call'd Phosphorvs into the milkie way,
And Nights faint shades flew fore his conquering Ray.

13

Aurora blushed to be found in Bed.
The Greenes with Roseall dew did wash their face
'Gainst Sol's uprise; the Howers opened
Heavens folding gates, through which with awfull pace
Bright Titan issued, cloath'd in Tissue gay,
Attended by his spangled Page, the Day.

14

The Aire's all noise, the hot-sent-snuffing Hounds
Awak'd the Terrour with their challenging knell.
In swelling rage the innocent Earth he wounds,
And like three-headed Porter (Swisse) of Hell,
Rush'd forth resolv'd to breake his fast on them
That durst presume so neer his Den to come.

15

As fell Medusa covetous of slaughter
Did drive the waves before his mighty breast,
Shaking his eares above the troubled water,
Disgorging new seas from his monstrous chest,
Extending yawning Jawes: so shew'd this Swine
Fiend-like as he, fierce as the angry Brine.

16

As cowards vaunt ere wreath'd brasse bids the Base,
Bragging they'l shoostrings make of guts of foes,
But when Mars seizeth for Deaths use the place,
And all whom courage rescues not, and blowes,
Then Palsie feare supprize their joynts, which fright
Doth knock together, and make another fight.

17

So th'mungrill currs, erst bold as to defie
The unseen Monster, (so rash is rage) now stand
Afraid to view him with halfe open eye,
Gazing like Armies in the Netherland.
Finding their balefull foe so grim and curst,
They all strain court'sie which should cope him first.

18

When Trumpets loud Tantarra to the fight,
Blowes make bruiz'd Armours Eccho to the noise:
So th'Horne into these Dogges infus'd new sp'rit,
Their mouthes they spend, and are become all voyce.
The airy Queen (sounds child) each yell replies,
As if another chase were in the skies.

19

The merry Horne fill'd with couragious breath,
Proclamed Parley to the woods grim wonder.
He stoutly scorn'd the summons of his Death,
And mockt their challenges with his mouthes thunder.
The busie flies he snarl'd at, and did chase
His owne foule shadow on earths wrinkled face.

20

The Boare his Tuske in many a Dog did sheath,
Their goar, his foam, like blood with milke bespread
(Whilst them he toss'd now over now beneath,
His fangs and head) bepainted all with red
His frothy mouth. The Hounds are at a Bay,
The eager cry still'ith'same place doth stay.

21

Howling with anguish here's a brace of Hounds,
There lay two other dew-bedabbled wretches
Kennel'd in Brakes, licking their venom'd wounds,
Shaking their eares, tatter'd and torne with scratches,
Their stiffe tailes 'gainst the grasse they clap and beat,
And lard the thirsty ground with blood and sweat.

22

When th'Huntsmans voice spoke Terror to the Boar,
Terror the Parasite Eccho said, like him.
When th'churlish Swine Death to the Dogs did roare
Death said the flatterer, like the beast so grim.
As Apes do postures she mock'd every cry,
Thus newters doe with either side comply.

23

The blunt Boar scorning to be kept in mew,
To ly besieg'd by snarling Curs too proud,
Like the Lernean Snake he rouzing shew,
And rush'd through the-in-vaine opposing croud.
Swift as a Roe up to the Hills he flew,
The hot-spur'd Hunters, with full cry pursue.

24

By this the Fountaine of Light low did run,
Inchanting Philomel chanted her Vesper,
The silver erst, now golden (setting) Sun
Trebled each shade; the Owle peep'd out with Hesper.
Green Tethys from her sweaty bed thrust Night,
Expecting there her far more fair delight.

25

All on a sudden Darkeness doubled was,
Flashes and noise the moving Skie distracted,
Boreas sung terrour in a blustry base,
Both Night and Winter in a storm contracted.
Thunder-bolts split the Cedars that aspir'd,
Their blasted tops the nimble Lightning fir'd.

26

The dabled South, ruffe-footed Aquilo,
Came rushing like two Rams whose steeled Horns
Dart fiery sparks and Stars; the Clouds crush'd so
Breath flames: the Air distill'd in rain and storms,
Which suffered no two together stay,
Each, as in ship wrack shift their severall way.

27

No friendly Star or Moon-like Pylots kind
(Oh Fate of Darknesse!) guide them on their way,
The formost curse them that did lag behind,
And they the formost; all ride on and stray.
Their voices all are spent, and they that follow
Can track the first no longer by their hollow.

28

They wander and take Bridges to be Stiles,
When King Therevtvs (from his train aloofe)
In spight of Night and error, spies the whiles,
A small light glimmering in a smoak dri'd roof.
Thither he makes, such straglers as these are,
A Candle weak admire more than a Star.

29

His Highnesse meant not to discover here,
His true estate, and greatnesse of his name,
'Cause he would not affright the Cottager,
But learn what of himself said common fame.
So through his Camp disguis'd went Philips Son,
To hear how opinions Tide on him did run.

30

In this low thatch'd patch'd Graung dwelt Adelin
A swaine whose quiet life honesty compleated,
Of him the wandring unattended King
A homely lodging for that Night entreated,
The poor wight (rich in love and gentle words)
Proffers the best his humble shed affords.

31

Then set he 'fore his Guest (whom he not knew)
Sweet Growte, and Whig, and Flap-jacks of fine meal,
A sheeve of household bread of nut-brown hue,
Cheese white as Milke, nor lack'd there bonney Ale,
Nor Wildings and ripe fruits, which to the eye
Gave pleasing tast ere they the mouth came nigh.

32

The King with unexcited Appetite,
Appeas'd his craving Maw with these plain Cates;
Then did he halfe envy the secure Wight,
With whom of Shepherds easefull lives he chats,
Praising a Cottage 'bove a slippery Court,
To which the Hind replied in such sort.

33

“A Prince that in the Cedars top doth build,
“And scornes the Sun, and dallies with the Wind,
“Only a Title hath his care to gild,
“His gay robe's lined with a restlesse mind.
“They that stand high have many blasts to shake them,
“And falling from on high, the more they break them.

34

“The more we graspe the Waves the lesse we hold:
“So who seekes ease in greatnesse, ease him flies.
“Just as the Persians did by slaves of old,
“Fate doth by Kings, Crown them for Sacrifice.
“Glories, like Glow-wormes, a far off shine bright,
“But look'd to neer have neither heat nor light.

35

“The Court is Fortunes cheating Lottery,
“Where places are like to the Beds that fill
“An Hospitall, where this mans head doth lie
“At that mans feet, so lower and lower still.
“When a Star glides (we say) a Child is born,
“So this Lard mounts when that slips into scorne.

36

“Souldiers, whose prize is praise, and Trophies skars,
“When they through new red seas for many a year
“Have swam to glory, become Astronomers,
“And Almanacks in their dry bones they bear;
“Or they turn Geometricians, and so
“Practice their Art on crutches as they go.

37

“Tough pale-fac'd study bookish men doth pine,
“This is that Vulture which Promethevs tore;
“Merchants that dwell with Fish in the blew brine,
“Oft lose their lives seeking t'increase their store;
“The toyling Craftsman drinketh his own sweat,
“And out hard iron hammereth his meat.

38

“Content the Shepherds Cottage onely fills,
“With th'earely Sun he doth his Flock unfold,
“And all day long on easie climbing Hills
“Or flowrie Plaines he merry chat can hold,
“Or indite Sonnets in an amorous vein,
“And with the setting Sun he folds again.

39

“Then jogging home he turnes a Crab, or else
“He tunes a round, or sings some chearly rime,
“Or on the tongs he counterfeits the Bells,
“Nor lacks he gleefull tales to cheat slow time.
“There sits he, and whilst round the bowle doth trot,
“Sings care away, till he to bed hath got.

40

“There sleepes he found, forgetting morrowes cares,
“Ne stormes, ne frayes, ne crack of credit lost,
“Ne blasts he feares, nor uttering of his wares,
“Nor franklier spends than's Flock defrayes the cost.
“Swains sleep and make more quiet nights and daies
“Than their great care-bit Lords, whose herds they graze

41

“Low set and richly warme, our Proverb wot,
“Dangers o'r fly us, mischiefes hit the high,
“Content's the Crown, this is the Shepherds lot;
“A King is but a Man, and so am I.
“Not to compare, I would not change my place,
“With great Therevtvs, Heaven shield his Grace.

42

Now leaden sleep 'gan weigh their eye-lids down,
The Lamp with darknesse strove, being almost spent:
When th'weary King (half out of love with's Crown)
Unto a cleanly, though scarce soft, Bed went,
Sleep is not tied to softnesse, more soundly
Hinds rest than they that in downe smother'd lie.

43

When slumber had shut in, and Morphevs bar'd
The windowes of his soule, and lock'd out care,
I'th silent time of night a voice he heard
As from above, calling to Him Fear, Fear.
Lost in amazement did he then uprise
Frighted, as Soldiers taken in supprize.

44

As did Dametas when Pamela fled,
He struts about the room with hair upright:
And cries, who calleth, but is answered
Only by Eccho, and the Bird of Night.
Then takes he's Bed again, and this fright numbers
Amongst the mockries of unquiet slumbers.

45

The next voice touch'd his Organ was Yeeld, Yeeld.
Then wak'd in's mind a thought of trechery.
Amidst these sweaty doubtings he beheld
The Genius of the Graunge before his eye,
Crown'd with such Chaplets as adorne a Wake:
Bowing his Cornu-copiæ, thus he spake.

Mighty Souveraigne

I am come
“From the blest Lalarium,
“The seat of the Household Gods,
“Where th'Lares have their quiet abodes,

“To tell thee 'tis the Thunderers will,
“Thou call'st to mind his Oracle,
“Which when thou asked'st who should be
“Thy Successor, thus answerd thee.

The Oracle.

“When a Lamp shall be thy Star,
“And thou both King and Cottager,
“And when thou to Bed shalt go
“Twice in one night, then shalt thou know.

The Resolution.

“This is the Time, the Lamp whose light
“Brought thee hither, thy Star I hight.
“Whilst here thou dwel'st with Adeling,
“Th'art Cottager as well as King.
“You left, and took again, this Night
“Your Bed, being seiz'd and rid of fright.

“Know then, Great, and as good, King,
“Aplote daughter of Adeling
“This night has borne a smiling Boy,
“The Gransires hope, the Mothers joy,
“The Heire by his Nativity
“To Natures wealth, Fates Poverty.
“But Fortune meanes in him to show
“How great she can from meannesse grow.
“Architects low foundations lie,
“When they intend the building high.

“See! how the spangles of the Night
“Doe sparkle with unusuall light,
“Heaven puts his cloudy tresses by,
“And smiles on him with open skie,
“Whilst all the Planets seem to throw
“Their Golden radience at his brow,
“Which by reflection Divine
“Shall thence upon his Subjects shine.
“Th'Imperiall Thunderer, with her
“That Crownes ad placitum confer,
“Have sworn by the salt Stygian Floods,
“That glide through the darke Midnight Woods,
“That Hee, and his redoubted race,
“(Whose Acts shall break Fames wind to blaze)
“Shall wear (thee dead) thy Diadem,
“And adde more Lustre to the Jem.
“Seek not to cross Fate, lest (wave like)
“You break upon the Rock you strike.
“Strive not against the stream. Alas!
“Who spits at Heaven, spits in's own face.

46

The Genius vanished, Thereutus laid,
In a mixt Passion betwixt feare and hate.
No sleep he saw with's prickling eyes, which straid
On objects of his fall, his Heiers state.
Soft sleep requires of thoughts a vacancy,
Shee dwels in Tityrvs's not Tiberivs eye.

47

By this the Quiristers o'th' Wood did shake
Their wings, and sing to the bright Suns uprise,
Whose new embroaderie did gild and make
Rich houses tops, and leaves of whistlings Trees.
Modest morn blush'd 'cause Sol saw'r rise from Bed,
As Lieer had her cheekes with Claret spred.

48

The King descending said. “Come Envie, come,
“Here will be subject for thy pin'd snakes; hurle
“About this Brats neck evry loving worm
“In clinging foulds, till I bid them uncurle
“And break their knots, and shoot at length, and hide
“Their keen trifork't stings in his malic'd side.

49

Then with a smoothed Front he bad good Day,
And happy Omens to old Adeling,
Asking, “What noise was that chas'd sleep away,
“Sounding like cries of women travelling?
Quoth th'Hind, “I hope in good time my desire
“This night has crown'd and made me a Grandsire.

50

May thy joyes grow with's yeares, said the great Guest,
And ask'd the Swain on's hopes young pledge to look;
In swadling bands the Babe he brought forth drest,
Whom in his Royall armes the Monarch took,
So flattering Juno hugg'd poor Semele
I'th' likenesse of her Nurse old Beroe.

51

Whilst here (with Sinon-like imbrace) he hold
The tender Child, the Cottage black Cat ran
Betwixt his legs, and mew'd, whereat (hee fil'd
With deep sense of the Prodigie) waxt wan,
Knowing such was an Omen of the fall
Of great SEIANUS Fortvnes Tennis-Ball.

52

But thinking his state 'bove chance, as his sp'rit
He call'd home Man, and did himself regain,
“And ask'd his Host if he knew who that night
“Had been his Guest? A friend, I hope, (quoth th'Swain)
“Whom I desire what use you here do find,
“To measure not by 'ts own worth, but my mind.

53

“How much are we a Captive to thy Love?
“(The Prince repli'd,) which we with wealth and style
“Will guerdon. Know who did thy kindnesse prove
“Is the Imperiall Monarch of this Isle,
“Therevtvs, who thy humble Shed will raise
To greatnes crown'd with wreaths of Oak and Bayes.

54

“Nay use thy legs, (the wight die kneel and shake,)
“Since we thy Guest were when this Bird broke forth
“The shell (his first Cage) tis our will to take
“Him to our Court (the forge of States and worth)
“There (if vice checks not) will we him advance
“'Bove Envies sting, or griping reach of chance.

55

“Baptize him Tvchesphaira, but this make
“Thy Province, with maternall Love and Fear
“To foster him, our selfe will send and take
“Him to the tutele of our Royall care,
“Ere twice Times measurer, the Nimble Sun,
“Hath made the Toure of Heaven, and his race run.

56

Lest Fairies should put him among their rapes,
He mark'd him with his signet on the front,
So pliable's the Virgin wax of Babes
To take what figure you please stamp upon't.
Here's a poor Sheep for th'shambles mark'd, and hate;
Thus doth man purpose, but dispose doth Fate.

57

A Troop of Courtiers shining bright and gay,
Broad-ey'd in quest of the last-night-lost King
(By diligent scrutiny being led this way)
Here found him, mingling breath with Adeling.
He mounted (guarded so) with Jove-like port,
His course for to direct to his longing Court.

58

But making to an Elme of cleanly growth,
Whereon he (lest thereby betraid should be
To his Hosts knowledge his great state and worth)
Had hung his Crown, slifted from the chast Tree;
Which (like a Charm) 'gainst Thunder fenc'd his head,
He found one half of't withered and dead.

59

A Prodigie able to have seiz'd the sense,
And routed all powers of a mortall breast.
But he (of Passions, well as men, a Prince)
Soon gather'd up himself, and them supprest.
And since game's Heleborum, he once more,
To chase sad thoughts away, would chase the Boar.

60

The jolly Horn did chafe the blunt Beasts ears,
And with loud accents lent the Woods a voice.
He, whose tough brawny sides were proofe 'gainst spears,
Eccho'd the jangling pack with as great noise.
The game is rouz'd, the Fiend from's Cabin springs,
Pursuit like lightning puts on Eagles wings.

61

The Swine unto a Bay was soon brought, since
The last daies labour being stiffe and soar,
The Hounds beleager'd him, and the brave Prince
With's Javelins point his churlish breast did gore.
He, wounded, howles, The Huntsmen fill the skies
With's many holla's, as the brute with cries.

62

Even as a ravenous red-bearded Pack
Of Serjants, hale (with taunts) a poor Bankrouter,
Some drawing on, some thrusting at his back,
To one 'oth'City Pounds, the killing Compter:
The Dogs seiz'd so, behind some, some before,
Wounded and drag'd along the gasping Boar.

63

See of a Tyrans death an Emblem fair!
The grim Swines head (even dreadfull although kil'd)
Fixt on a Pole was carried in the air.
Thousands whose smiling mouths glad Peans fil'd,
To meet the Conquerer, came out the Citty,
His Paths with boughs they fil'd, his eares with Ditty.

Song.

1

Clubfisted Hero, no more thine owne Trump be,
To tell how you tamed th'Arcadian Boar:
Her terrible pawes so rudely did thump thee
As even yet thy broad back and bones are full sore.
Therevtvs doth claim all our praise as his due,
Alas! we have none at all left us for you.

2

Archer of Heaven, sure-handed Apollo,
Vaunt you no more of the huge Pythons slaughter,
But whistle to Cut, and still thy Cart follow,
Founder not thy Team to tickle us with laughter.
Therevtvs doth claime all our praise as his due,
Alas! we have none neither left us for you.

3

Bright Youth that wert got in a showre of Gold
By Heavens Cuckold-maker, never more warble
Thy victory over Medusa of old
That turn'd all that look'd upon her to Marble.
Therevtvs of all our Praise hath bereft us,
For any other we have no more left us.

64

Now Muse to reach the Forest put on wing,
There taste the Rose, and suck in subtlier air,
And visit Tvchesphaira, who (fond thing)
Thou shalt please better with a Plumb or Pear
Than lifts of's honours upon honours ply'd,
I'th morn a Poet's aptest, not a Child.

65

Much of Mans sand through times wide glasse does run,
Many of his freshest yeers do periods know.
A long part of his Lives short web is spun
E'r he considers what he's borne to doe.
'Fore he begins his task, or knows what't was,
Much time he had to do it in, doth passe.

66

When Phoebvs Race-nags almost twice had run
Through the round Zodiac their full careere,
His toung-strings 'gan to loose, and he begun
To lispe argologies. In a whole year
Though reason rears her Tribunall up in Man,
He cannot shew't so much as Parets can.

67

Now, now began he to be like himselfe,
With purile vigour Mars, with forinitie
Venvs, Combin'd t'adorn th'dapper Elve,
Doubtlesse two Starres which glided from the skie
Have lighted in his beamy eyes, and there
Set fixt as in their high Olympick Sphere.

68

Fair Cloris pluck't her Lillies, and bespred
Their silver wealth upon his brow so sleek,
His skin with Violets she enamelled,
And planted a fresh Rose on either cheek,
Where Nature painted them with fairer blush
Than ere they knew upon their Thorny bush.

54

Corn crowned Ceres with a golden crop
Uberiously his flourishing head hath grac'd,
Whereof each sprig is ripe and bows the top.
Courteous Pomona on his plump lips plac'd
Too early blushing Cherries, where they be
Far more inviting than upon the Tree.

55

Did you not hear his Lallation, nor see
Him trip about like Mab, you'd think he were
(As Abantiades did Andromede)
Marmoreum opus, or some Statue rare
Carv'd out of Virgin wax, or Ivory pure,
Which had it wings would seem an Angel sure.

71

Now did he find his feet and gin to move
Upon a wheele of danger, were it not
Restraind, each thing an Atropos would prove
His web to clip ere scarce to th'Rock it got,
Or fatall Axe this new sprung spray to fell,
Or Sextons hand to toule his passing Bell.

27

But from the Court his good and evill sprung,
There th'King chose out two Lords whom he much lov'd
Men of sound Fame Cicilians among,
Whose truths oft true as Truth its self had prov'd.
To these he trusted all the former story,
Adding thereto this cruell Mandatory.

73

“Hast to the Grange, there with perfumed words
“Demand the Infant in our Royall Name,
“Then dig his side with your remorcelesse swords.
“And bear to us the entrailes of the same.
“We would not slay if we could safely save,
“Yet than a Throne tis cheaper' give a grave.

74

“But seale your lips up, and be sons of night
“And silence, if you have (which I not fear)
“A chinck in you, through which this peeps to light,
“Our reputation deeply wounded were,
“You die like snuffe and stink, our selfly under
“The lash of Censure, and tongues brutish Thunder.

75

The Lords repli'd, “Fate Love us as we lock
“This secret deep from Day and peering foes,
“Firm shall our Faiths stand as the Pirean Rock.
“Be it your care to see what you impose,
“Our Duty's to obey. Bright Cicil's Sun
“You are a God, and your high will be done.

76

Just as the King Decreed the Babe to slay,
The Sea burst forth, and bellowing rag'd along,
And half the City Thindaris bore away.
“So just is Heaven t'avenge the guiltlesse wrong.
The Brine too in the haven turn'd fresh and sweet,
As once before, when Denis lost his seat.

77

The Nobles hasted to the Swaine, so free
From the loud Tumult and the roar of state,
Of him the Infant they demanded; Hee
(Making each flowing eye wet griefes floudgate)
Deliverd him fraught with a thousand blisses,
Seal'd with as many ceremonious kisses.

78

Homewards they took their way, and by and by
Their bounding steeds they checked, having reacht
A bushie Grove, pricking the lookers eye,
As if the Thornes them teares and pitty teacht,
And shak't their armes, as if they'd let them know
They meant to scratch them if they gave the blow.

79

The Lords to execute the Kings command
Emptied the sheath of the sharp threatning skive,
For which the silly babe reacht forth his hand,
Thrice touch'd and rac'd his tender skin the knife,
And thrice his smiles drew forth their teares; once more
They did begin and ended as before.

80

“Betide us Life or Death, live still (at least
“For us) they said, and so threw down the blade.
“Herein shall we obey our Soveraigne best
“That he by our hand is not guilty made.
“Who serves his Prince in what is judg'd unjust
“By his own Law, serves not his power, but Lust.

81

But 'cause the Monarch charged them to bring
His entrailes, they a young Pig slew with hast,
Resolv'd to bear his inwards to the King,
Since every Man within is like this Beast.
And some without, whom malice and strong Wine
Make churlish as a Hog, drunk as a Swine.

82

Since by a Wolfe Romes Founders suckled were,
Great Cyrvs by a Bitch rob'd of her young,
Troy's fire-brand, hot Paris, by a Beare,
Jove by a Goat the swelling hills among,
For this poor Innocent were there hopes as good
If left to the wild Nurses of the Wood.

83

In an old hollow Oke, whose top a Swarme
Of Bees (the Muses Birds) had made their hive
They left the Child, with Gold, and 'bout his arm
Bracelets of Jems whose shine with's eyes did strive.
These their Loves gave, that who so him should find
Might be, if not for Loves, for wealths sake kind.

84

The Lords then to the King did spur on hast
(Whose every thought 'bout their success did wake,)
Shaking with scorn the entrailes of the Beast,
Entring the Presence, thus they silence brake.
“Live Great Therevtvs, behold here all that
“The Wild Beasts teeth, have left of yonder brat.

85

The King with Jvy armes his Lords embrac't,
(Who had made purchase of his Love for ever)
With looks for scorn fit, into fire he cast
The Pigs (he thought the Infants) Heart and Liver,
Saying, “Now Dreames are lies, the Delphic Rood
“A trunk of Fables, at best common wood.

86

In the wild Desart Tvchesphaira laid
Whom the Bees fed with their Ambrosiall sweat,
Whilst with them, as with Birds, he (fearelesse) plaid,
Th'infected Animalls their stings forgat.
The Woods plum'd Quiristers forsook their neasts
To charme him with the wonder of their breasts.

87

A full dug'd Hind came, and her milkie teat
Gave to the lips of this poor out-cast creature,
As 'twere his mothers breast he suck'd thereat.
Reader, think not this story crosseth Nature,
But read on, and you'l say, in this the Hind
Was to her selfe, as well as to him, kind.

88

The fruit o'th' Hind (thus Nature wills) swels so
In her straight womb she ne'r could bring it forth,
If Jove did not his Queens task undergo,
And (playing th'Midwife) helpe it to the birth.
He tears the skies with thunder, which doth fright
Her into Travell, and her young to light.

89

The Fawne (well grown allready) soon forsakes
Th'pleasure o'th'teat for that of Liberty.
The Dam pain'd with much Milk, which bulks and akes
In her stiffe Dugs, oft succles willingly
Creatures of different Species to ease her,
Why might not he, as well as Beasts, then please her.

90

Evstachvs, one o'th Kings grave Counsellours,
(A Person both of Blood and Honour stockt
In a long race of vertuous Ancestours)
His mind, with deep Idea's tir'd, unlockt,
And with delight to sweeten his State eare,
O'th'Woods side gat on foot the purblind Hare.

91

The Dogs were at a fault, and flockt about
Snuffing and fawning on the Infants Tree,
Which made the Patriot (thinking they smelt out
Some willy Fox there earth'd), ride up to see,
Where, on his back, the smiling Boy he found
Sucking the Hind, and stroaking of a Hound.

92

'Cause with rich Jems and Gold so bright be shon
The Lord of Parentage right Noble deem'd him,
And bore him thence; Lacking himself a Son,
He fostered, and as his own esteem'd him.
Who prov'd (as he of Time had got the start)
The Early Miracle of Armes and Art.

93

But here the Reader is to be advis'd,
That when this Youth found in the Forest was,
Evstachvs (Ignorant he was baptiz'd
Before he found him) nam'd him Ulorvs,
The which name he must bear, till my Muse can
I'th' Songs close, call him Tvchesphair agen.

94

Therevtvs when bald time upon his wing
Had stoln his fiftieth Yeer for a Jub'le
Revoked exiles from pale wandering,
Pardon'd State Cankers and set Captives free,
And sham'd Darivs in a solemne Feast,
To which each man of name was call'd a Guest.

95

Tilting the Day, masquing the Night chac't thence,
Perfumes did raise sweet Mists in every room
To keep the air in awe of the nice sense,
Attalick garments cloath'd each swaggering Groom,
Rich Tyrian Arras evry Wall, hung round
With meddalls in old Gaule or Carthage found.

96

Scorning (there ord'nary) Corinthian Plate
Men quaft in Stone at dearer prices sold,
At Jvory tables, or wood of higher rate
They eat, on quilted Beds of Silk and Gold.
Their wanton tasts had onely in request
Newest and rarest things, though not the best.

97

The feather'd River Phasis could not yeeld
Them Fowle enow, nor Oysters Lucrine Lake,
They spring each Thicket, Fowle each bush and Field,
All seas they draw, all Ponds in nets they take,
Circes too (Natures Larder) do they seek
To please the witty gluttony of a week.

98

Lachrymæ Christi flow'd down, and the blood
Of Tuscan Grapes swel'd high each joviall mind.
Had Nature lost her Species, air her brood,
Water her spawn, here might they seek, and find.
Apitivs a Carthusian was to these,
And Æsope's Platter a poor Scholars messe.

99

The Pallace crackt with weight of thronging Guests
As Theaters when som fine sock is on,
Evstachvs there was seen among the rest,
And with him Vlorvs, his reputed Son.
Who now wrot man, and full of hopes most high,
Assum'd the vesture of virility.

100

In Comvs's heat and Pride the glorious King
Viewing the young man with a setled eye,
Through his loose hair the print of his seal Ring
Spi'd on his front; this dash't his jollity.
This marke, a mole, his Phisnomy assur'd him
'Twas he 'gainst whom he thought death had secur'd him.

101

His mirths spred wings were clipt, the pale desire
Of revenge seiz'd him, with hot fury stockt,
But that which swell'd his floud of Passion higher,
Was, that the Lords by whom he was so mockt,
Full of grand Honours, wounds, and daies, were dead,
And with wet Elegies their Hearses spread.

102

Rufling his brow, biting his lip he sat
Waking all forces of his phantasie
To guide his wrath: being observ'd, this fit
He call'd a spice of an old Lethargie.
Then rallying his wiser thoughts, he spake thus
Unto the good (thats more than great) Evstachvs;

103

“How happy are you in a Son (my Lord)
“So rich in Natures store and Arts best things;
“Only you ought not so great wealth to hoard,
“Jems shine not in the Quarry, but in Rings.
“Leave him with us at Court, so shall he seem
“Engloried by the Place, the Place by him.

104

Evstachvs; covetous of so good hap
Gave to the King his Vlorvs much lov'd:
Who, as if he upon some Courtly lap
Had alwaies slept a formall Courtling prov'd.
His mouth the mint of complement, and he
The very Tyrant in bare courtesie.

105

His phrase, and gests were followed and allow'd,
So full of Man his evry Act was showne.
And (which was chiefe) not borrowed it shew'd,
But all he did became him as his own,
And seem'd as proper, and as naturall
As breath with life, or light with radient Sol.

106

Which is the soul of Courtship, he became
The Marigold of every Ladies shine,
Teaching each beauty t'give and take a flame,
Approaching it in its own height and Line.
All Ladies with one Luer caught are not,
No more than all Birds are with one bait got.

107

The proud he tickeled with praise of theirs,
Dispraise of others Beauties, modes, and dresses.
The witty with Romants he pleas'd and verse,
Th'amourous with Love Legends mixt with kisses.
And flourishing still in the Spring o'th' Fashion,
He got a credit beyond admiration.

108

But now, Heaven moved by the late excesse,
Or by Therevtvs Tyrannous intent,
Hot painted feavours clad in spotted dresse
(Plagues Harbingers) 'mong the Sicilians sent,
And (no auspicious Omen) in each field
Sholes of hoars Ravens unwonted musters held.

109

Then envious Stars shot poyson from their Sphere,
Or Earth from the dark Dungeon belch't it forth,
Or angry winds did puffe it through the aire.
That th'Isle one Pesthouse made, one grave the Earth.
O Dismall Argument! black subject! where
All comma's sighs should be! each point a Tear!

110

The sweeping Plague's begun; some fall, all fear,
As when i'th' Night fires are discovered.
Fates (as if vext they meant to blunt their sheares)
Warps by whole hanfulls cut, not threed by threed.
Mortall Abaddon with keen sickle hovers,
Flesh like Grasse mowing, making few Passeovers.

111

Think but how fast at evry puffe of wind
From Trees the mellow leaves in Autume glide,
I'th' steps of Cattell some interment find
Some on the wings of wanton briefes ride:
So in this busie Terme of Death folk dy'd
Faster than those alive could graves provide.

112

No Songs, but Dirges, fill'd the infected air,
No Musick but the Bells sad Knells is heard.
Pebles which erst much peoples feet did wear
And pollish, now, with grasse oregrown, Churchyard
Rather than street seem; along which there wave
Black Beers, that strive wch first should reach the grave.

113

Churchyards so delv'd and harrow'd are, none now
As type of Resurrection Grasse affords
This death (a Schismatick) will not allow
Of Ceremony, Men on slings and boards
Uncovered are posted to the grave,
Which, although free Land, none may single have.

114

That best of Nature, Neighberhood, was gon,
With hateles treason, friends by friends breath dy'd.
They're safest who like salvage live alone,
And although debtlesse, from this Serjant hide.
No help is left but all helpe to forgo,
To joyn their forces were t'augment their foe.

115

For Deaths use seized are all naked streets,
Which who so dares adventure to passe by,
A presse of thronged Funeralls he meets,
And People that their lofty Mansions fly.
Daring to dying sheds their lives commit,
Which each blast shakes into a Palsie fit.

116

Each carkase of a Grange hath Guests, some hide
In vacant Windmills, some in tented Boat
On watry floores, rock'd by the tumbling tide
With their sick houshould at dead Anchor flote.
Yea who no tilt could hope but open skies
Dare home forsake, so Sicil Sicil flies.

117

Palermo differ'd from Palermo so
As doth a Tree which erst did blow and bear,
But naked in December stands, like to
A Skelleton, ratling its bones all bare.
Such solitude as this i'th' waxen Town
Appeares when th'winged hony Host is flown.

118

As prudent mice fromsfalling roofes make hast,
And thence to sounder walls for shelter flee:
So from sick Sicilie her brood flock't fast
To neighbouring Isles, as Cæne and Strongile,
Now with like luck as when two Suns appeare
'tk'clouded skie, two Sicilies there were.

119

Therevtvs selfe from's royall place retir'd
To's Tusculanium in the Countrey,
Not built to envious show but health desir'd,
And to th'adjacent Islles Æoliæ,
(Where Æolus his Throne of old was seen)
He sent his onely Daughter and great Queen.

120

The Queen Hymetta, whose each part a story
Of Beauty was, 'bove wonder far renown'd,
Of her fair fex she the faire Crown and Glory,
Who yet all these straines in her vertues drown'd.
But her chiefe Elogie (to veile all other)
Is this, she was the rare Rosella's Mother.

121

Sosella, without whom the Court was dark,
Fresh morn her handmaid was, and Roses strew
About Loves Hemisphere; each heavenly spark
Wheg she arose, ecclipz'd, and sad withdrew
For shame to be out-shin'd by her bright eyes,
Who, more than they the Earth, did gild the skies.

122

Old Jvno, seeing a new let her plumes fall,
The Graces wondred at themselves to see
They'd fram'd a Grace that far surpast them all,
And had exhausted quite their Treasury
To shame themselves by one, on whose each part
Fame might spend all her voice, Verse all her Art.

123

She was of Goddesses a Rapsodie,
Boasting Avrora's rosie fingers small,
Satvrnia's stately front, Pallas grey eye,
Venvs her dimpled chin, and Beauties All.
Of Ceres Daughter the life-wasting wast,
And Gorgons curled hair, before it hist.

124

She was the onely Loadstone of all Eyes,
She was the onely Touchstone of all Hearts,
The Whetstone of all braines and Phantasies,
Making each Freshman Master in Loves Arts.
She chew'd with Studs of Pearle, with Rubies kist,
She look'd with diamonds rescuing Day from Mist.

125

This Saint and Angell both did harbour give
To as much winning beauty as could die,
And to more heavenly vertues than doe live,
Which in her blest Urne I'l let quiet lie,
Lest all to whom such Miracles are told,
Or turne Idolaters, or think her old.

126

A Venvs and Diana mixt in one
She was, whose wit was even in greenest yeers
Flowing as Nectar, ripe as Autumn showne,
And crown'd with graces envy'd by white haires:
Which who can tell? and yet who cannot tell?
Well may I praise her, but not praise her well.

127

To do it meanely were no lesse disgrace,
Than a course garment to a Princely Dame,
Or homely painting to a lovely face,
Or a brasse setting to a precious Gemme.
Think not weak Muse by thy low Song to raise her
Tis praise enough that none enough can praise her.

128

Here of this wonder of nice Natures sweat
Taking my Leave, I am for Sicilie
Imbark'd, from whence Phoebvs withdrew his heat
And fled, as he too fear'd the Malady.
Winter the Isle shut up in icie bars
As close as sicknesse did the Islanders.

129

With the years heat (Plagues nurse) the Plague outwore,
The mortall Angell sheath'd his Sword, the street
Put off its mossie mantle, and once more
Began a new acquaintance with mens feet.
Still Piles are built and blaze, still Bells loud call,
But for devotion more than Buriall.

130

All aske what frends Heavens Besom swept away,
And who is left. All gape for fresher air,
And like Stags snuffing 'bout the Fields they stray;
So Fishes stifled with long ice repair
Unto the hole, when as the Leatherine Hine
With Axes break the frost to water kine.

131

Now men with health (as Swallowes with the Spring)
Again to their dear Mothers Bosome run,
Once more Palermo the desired King
Blest with his Presence, shewing like the Sun
Scattering th'Egyptians long loath'd Night away,
Or out black Chaos striking Christall Day.

132

He seeing admired Vlorvs become
The tenth Sphere of the Court, drawing all after him,
And daily triumphing ore the Hearts of some:
Griev'd that the fatall Angell spar'd do slaughter him,
He sate in Councell with his thoughts, at strife
How to remove his fear, the youngmans life.

133

His busie braine was like an Howerglasse,
Wherein Imaginations like sands ran
Filling up hasty time, but then (Alas!)
Were turn'd and turn'd and ended as began,
So that he knew not what to stay upon,
And lesse to Crown with execution.

134

To thrust him out of life sans processe, were
To blot himselfe out of the Rolls of Fame,
To send him to the wars, in hope that there
Quick death might find him, were t'augment his Fame.
A Hero lockt in brasse will force all breath
To chant his Trophees brave, or braver Death.

135

Taking the wisest counsell of his brain,
At last Invention prompted a course to him
For which he hug'd his wit and cruel veine,
And this was mask'd in friendship to undo him.
Malice in Love disguiz'd was in all time
Most safe and common held, yet is't a crime.

136

So poysonous Snakes in Roses ly in wait,
And lurke in honny-dropping Grasse to sting.
So the Hyenna murders by deceit.
So from the Rocks th'alluring Syrens sing,
And call down the high notes of the sweet Spherse
Before they prey, to fill the wretches eares.

137

The Senat of his thoughts decreed to send
The Young Man to the Queen t'Æoliæ
With secret Letters; feigning as a Friend
The honouring of him with the Embassie,
Which was, that as soon as he should await her
She privily execute him for a Traytor.

138

To paper he this Mandate did commit,
And with his Seal enjoyn'd it secrecy.
Then charg'd his Favorit Ulorvs with it
Unto his Queen on hasts spred wings to flie.
From David so, to Joab once before
Uriah his one fatall sentence bore.

139

The Favourite (proud of the employment) rode
Attended with no long yet trusty train
To the next Port, his vent'rous foot there trod
Upon the rude throat of the scalding Main.
Favonivs and Thetis mixt in one
To blesse him with kind Transfretation.

140

About the Noon of Night he reach't the shore,
And took up's quarters in a common Inne,
Where (partly, 'cause for manners sake, before
The Sun had, he would not salute the Queen.
Partly to compose his Sea shuffled head)
He made his cloaths poor to make rich his Bed.

141

One of his Traine (having Athenian ears
Itching for news) much longing to descry
His Lords quick message, when the band of cares
Soft sleep had seiz'd him and his company,
He crept into his Chamber in the dark,
And stole his Packet thence, whilst none did mark.

142

Being no Novice in that knavish trick
Of ripping Seales, and closing them again,
(A Burglary baser than locks to pick;
For that robs but our coffers, this our braine,)
Not dar'd by's Kings dumb face, he opened
Nicely his Royall Packet, and thus read.

T. R. ad H. R.

Therevtvs to his Queen Hymetta dear
Sends the same health which he enjoyeth here.
Rebecca's Twins, love, hatred, this scroule beares,
The first is thine, the last this Messengers,
Whom we have thus employ'd, that we migh have
By this unsmelt means, Safety, he a Grave.

This Ulorvs is th'Ague of our Reigne,
He shakes it, as Windes stoll'n into Earths veine
Doe our dull staggering Mother. He's the ill
Conscience o'th' State, that ne'r lets it be still.
'Twas in our thoughts by just help of our Lawes
That this effect might Cease, to seize the cause.
But being such a Minion of the rude
Beast with so many heads, the Multitude;
We judg'd him not here, in their sights, to die,
Lest they mistake Justice for Tyranny
In us, and in themselves Rebellion
For Pitty; Lest our Bark of State split on
These Rocks, We've sent him to your Court, that there
His Death may be close as his Treasons here.
If of his Fate you can all eyes prevent
Wee'l father it upon some accident.
How e'r do't; if you can't stop Fames wild breath
Wee'l draw up's Posthume Processe after's Death.

Grieve not to nip this young weed in the bloom,
A young Wolfes Death to soon can never come.
Yet were it cruell, tis Fate is harsh not wee,
Selfe preservation warrants Crueltie.

143

“Alas! (Quoth th'Servant) whilst my Lord aimes at
“The honour of being but a Royall Post,
“His selfe is lost. So patient Chymists get
“But Smoke, Dust, Hope, for all their reall cost.
“So th'Dog that on the waters face did catch
“At th'shaddow of his Morsell, lost the flesh.

144

“Poor Mercvry, whose being so's thy Death!
“Losing true Treasure for an empty name,
“Thy selfe for Honour, Yet but breath for breath,
“The breath of Life for the fond breath of Fame!
“Ah! how much more than pitty tis to fell
“A blooming Spray that sprouts so straight and well!

145

“Brood with me Hermes, help this Plot to hatch,
“That this Anti-Ixion whose strift is
“To grasp but a Cloud, airy Fame, may catch
“A reall Jvno, or a fairier piece,
“What though he nor rewards nor knows my pain?
“In vertuous Acts the very doing's gain.

146

“Or tis a crime or none t'have op'd this Letter.
“If none, I've pleas'd my selfe, not wrong'd the King.
“If tis a Sin, to purge it no way's better
“Than good out of intended evill to bring.
This said, he took a blank, and altering the
Mind of the Monarchs Letter thus wrot he.

The Kings Letter changed.

Therevtvs to his Queen Hymetta dear,
Sends the same health which he enjoyeth here.
This paper Barke a freight of Love doth bear
To be shar'd 'twixt thee and this Messenger,
Whom we have made so, that he may inherit
(To all our joyes) the meed of his high merit.
This Ulorvs, so high fam'd, and so allow'd
(Of whom our Court, and Natures selfe is proud;
To whom both Pallas arts alike are shear'd,
A sage Philosopher without a beard.
Who, if his mind as his green yeers increase,
His Age will alwaies than himself be lesse.)
We've sent t'attend you, that you may behold
The truth that unbeliev'd Report hath told
Though too too nigardly of his great worth.
To honour vertue is to set it forth.
We will you treat him then with every rare
Device that Love and Honour can prepare.
Since our People, gilding each act of his
With liking, make it better than it is,
Since they've given up themselves unto him, so
As they've a Law within themselves to doe
His Mandats binding, and that Law is Love
Which Princes as their strongest fort approve.
Since Fate denies us a Male birth to be
The Atlas of our Realme and Family,
(But had we Ægiptvs's number, none could be
Worthier such honour than this Mercvrie)
Therefore I'th' Carnavall (midst mirth and Laughter)
We will you marry him to our only Daughter.

Muse not we speak of Consummation, ere
Ther's due approaches made; for young and fair
Have made acquaintances in Nature, so
When their eyes meet they have the lesse to do.

SICILIE.

T. Rex.

147

Now wrapt he up this Scroule so counterfaite
In the same fashion as the King had his,
Then ript (with curious heed) the seale from that,
And with a Wafer fixt it (whole) to this.
Next to the Chamber (on fears socks) he crept,
And left it there, whilst still his Master slept.

148

Soon as the early Lark even tir'd with rest,
From his moist Cabinet sprung up on high,
Waking the morning, from whose dewy breast
Heavens wandring Knight rose to his errantry,
Th'Embassadour don'd rich embroideries pride,
And to the Court his paces did divide.

149

Whilst there he waited in a Gallery.
Hung round with Titians and rare Hylliards hands,
The Queen stept in, clad in such Majesty
As the Great Goddesse that ties Nuptiall Bands
Used, when she did contend on Ida's plain,
From Beauties Queen Beauties bright prize to gaine.

150

Low on his knee he kist her Royall Hand,
Then fil'd it with the Packet, (by happy blisse
For him (without him) from its first self chang'd)
Which read, she gave once more her hand to kisse.
And putting on her best looks to delight him,
She to a Royall banquet did invite him.

151

Now they descended to the Pallace Hall,
Where hundred objects claim'd his doubtful eye,
Which though the least alone had fil'd it all,
Was famished amidst variety.
Now this he tasts, then that he glances on,
Diversity confounds election.

152

But gather up thy sense and fortifie,
Weaknesse in fractures, strength in union lies.
Now youth the valour of thine Opticks try,
Here, here an object comes that's worth all eyes.
But (as who stares at Sol finds night at noon)
She having such bright ones make all else have none.

153

Rosella the rare Princesse (in quaint dressing
Of Sea green Tabie, whose wat'ring seem'd apace
Like Waves to move with her, the Lace expressing
Silver Rocks) enter'd, with such winning grace
As Cypria wore, when of Troys royall Swain
She (worthily) did Beauties prize obtain.

154

Her Hair, alas! too cold a word! Her Beames
O'r-shaddowing her Robe with loose command
Out-shin'd his rayes that gild the tottering streames.
Her bared Breasts appear'd Loves Scylla and
Charibdis, betwixt whom no eye might steer
But must (perforce) becom a Prey to her.

155

Her Stomacher was cloath of Gold vail'd ore
With subtle Tiffana, to shew the Land,
Strew'd with such Margarites as inrich the shore,
And Spangles, crookt, like shells that paint the sand.
The gum'd Silk's whistling must be understood,
Vvltvrnvs milder breath curling the floud.

156

The Youth made haste his trembling knee to bend
(As dazled Pilgrims 'fore some glorious shrine)
With devout feare he kist her melting hand
(As they doe Reliques, or some Rag divine)
Now rights he out his knee, but still doth look
Like to an Aguish Asp that's Planet strook.

157

She also felt a civill war in her
Distracted thoughts, all forts wild Passion seiz'd.
Love Generall, quarter'd in her eyes while ere
(Making her browes bowes to shoot all that gaz'd)
From those Frontiers, unto her Heart retir'd,
Where finding Reason possest, the Fort he fir'd.

158

Reason his blinde foe with Cowardize then taunteth
Saying Noblest Conquerers do wrecks avoid.
He answers, if a Heart Rosella wanteth,
I'l give her Ulorvs his to be enjoy'd,
Yet that must flame first, for like Gold we prove
Hearts must be fin'd and melted ere they love.

159

If their Hearts, Gentle Tyrant (Reason reply'd)
Smell sweetest in the flames, like Cassia,
If they (like Martyrs, though their sect divide)
Will accord best in their sweet misery,
Let us love too, and blow the coal together,
Good reason, they, young and fair, should love each other.

160

Both did desire, both were desir'd, though neither
Knew eithers wish; yet saw they whence their griefe
Sprung, even from whence they must expect their cure,
Yet fear'd, who would kill would denie Reliefe.
Love mixt so with them by his mistick Arts
As he soon had for Trophies both their Hearts.

161

The Heart-rob'd Youth resolved, by his Tongue
His Hearts Atturny, his sute to commence,
But was a drawing up the charge so long
New wounds came thick, and th'formers griefe chac'd thence.
Yet when to make the motion he'd assay
His words were crusht to sighs, and all was Ah!

162

She eccho'd him, thinking each sigh did bring
Loves summons, she, by hers, her yeelding sent,
Whereat the feather'd Wag did Io sing
And in her fresh cheeks pitcht his crimson Tent,
Displaying his blush-colour'd Ensigns there,
Shewing his Almighty self as Conquerer.

163

The Tables furnisht were as they'd invite
A bedrid stomach that surcharged lies
With potions to a freshmans appetite.
But Ulorvs best dish was Rosella's eyes.
As Lovers use when their mawes call to eat,
He cut his fingers in the stead of meat.

164

And with much gazing on (Heavens map) her face
He hungry rose, (in this too like a Lover.)
His words he left halfe spoke, or did misplace,
Or (Lover like still) he spake them twice over.
Questions were put, but when he would reply
His answers (Lover like) were quite awry.

165

The joyous Queen with smiling cheer did see
The wounding friends shoot their hearts each at other
Through their eyes, hoping evry look would be
A new dart, to continue them together;
She strait commands a Masque, then doth invite
Them to grace the short bravery of the night.

166

The nimble Masquers danc't as movingly
As Joves nine Twins on the Pierian Lawnes,
Or Thebes Stones a Amphion's melody,
Or brisk Pan and his Herd of light heel'd Fawnes.
But how could their feets freedom please this pair
Whose hearts lay tangled in each others hair?

167

Such melody courted their ears to hark
As th'orbes harmonious journey make, which they
No more regarded than the child doth marke
His lesson, when he hath got leave to play:
For how could Orphevs Raptures take those eares
Whose notes were onely sighs, their closes teares.

168

Now the ones eyes laid themselves open wide
To receive all the darts the other threw,
Then were they close with admiration tied
To keep the wealth they had already drew,
Or cast their Lids as curtaines ore the rare
Image of Beauty each look painted there.

169

Affection encreas'd their looking, and
Their looks augmented their affections,
Their eyes (like children 'fore whom sweet-meats stand)
Eager, but fearfull of their Guardians.
When one did sigh, as if that sigh were to
Be waited on, the other sigh'd also.

170

The Scene is clos'd up, the Soule mingling-pair
(Whose fancies travell'd undelivered
With throes of feare desier and despaire)
More overcast with thought than sleep, were led
To severall Lodgings, there they vent their breasts
With sighs and wishes, the rest retir'd to rest.

171

When Sol the Captain of the Planets bright
Came arm'd in burnisht Tinsell to Heavens Guard,
To relieve the winking Centinels of Night,
And give them leave to rest whilst he would ward;
The Princesse, seeing sleep was banisht fro
Her weary Bed, she left it empty too.

172

So day broke out of Chaos hurling Night
Unto the Center. So the Skie-wanderer
Unfetters from the Armes of Amphitrite.
So Roses break forth and perfume the air.
Only the first, the second, the last, be
Not halfe so cleer, so bright, so sweet, as she.

173

Now stood shee like the beautious Aphrodite
New risen from her frothy Mothers Bed,
Her purer smock lookt much like that pure white
Foam that the Goddesse limbs yet all bespred.
Her Bed (like bodies when their soules are flown)
Turn'd pale and cold for griefe that she was gon.

175

A mantle of green Velvet (wrought to wonder)
Her maidens o'r her curious limbes did cast,
It over her left shoulder went, and under
Her right Arm; on her breast it was made fast
With claspes of radient Diamons, now as
A Dazie shew'd she, in a field of grasse.

176

Now th'Queen her Mother came, and did impart
To her the message from the King was brought.
This somewhat lightened her heavy heart,
To think what she so wisht her Father sought.
But then her joyes did flag again, through fear
Lest he she so lov'd, too no thought for her.

177

By this the climbing Sun with warmth doth thaw
And tender make the of-late crusty Earth,
Each naked twig blood from the root doth draw
To swell the branch, and give a lively Birth
To the dead leaves, now fill'd again within
With plump juice, and without painted with green.

178

The pretty firstlings of the infant year
Now make their mother smile, and their gay heads
(Which late in icy graves did dead appear)
Advance afresh above their easie Beds,
Like Types o'th'Resurrection, and shew
Like weeping Virgins all be pearl'd with dew.

178

The Groves shrill Quiristers whose frozen throats
Late wanted motion and male heat to strain
Their little Organs, now have found their notes.
Now Philomela's tongue is grown again,
She scrues her sprightly Seraphins voyce up high,
To teach men Art from Natures Melody.

179

Now all things else smile with the forward Spring,
No Vine so young now feares the blasting stormes
That foul-mouth'd Auster carries on his wing,
Or the South-west wind hurries in his armes.
No rugged Boreas blows, but Zephyr's calm
Sweep flowry Gardens, and the air embalme.

180

So smil'd the daies from Chaos first when sprung,
As now, then did the loughing Oxe repair
Not to warm stalls, but open Fields; among
The Woods herds dwelt, and chattering Birds the air
Fill'd with their Song; then Natures frame t'uphold
Heaven temper'd this sweet mean, nor hot, nor cold.

181

This serene season seemed to beseech
The sweet Rosella (Earths and Heavens Pride)
Net only one poor chamber to enrich
And so impoverish ev'ry place beside,
But to walk forth and with her smiles to bring
An early Summer on the forward Spring.

182

The Grasse did court her soft tread, and then wept
For Griefe that she so soon off it was gon,
And perfum'd teares upon her small foot left.
The Flowers that did require no other Sun
As she approacht did start from their soft Beds,
And for a sight of Her, steal out their Heads.

183

Here in an odorous Bower rich in shade
She took a seat, whereon a Primrose grew.
“Flora's first Daughter! Ah! (she sighing, said)
“How like me in my loving state art thou!
“Blubber'd with dew thou standst, and in mine eares
“To whisper seem'st, Loves sweets are washt with teares.

184

“How yellow green and sick thy leaves appear!
“Like ripening Girles that junket on Loam walls,
“Or Feast on chalk and coals; to Earth how neer
“Thy weak stalk bends, yet neither breaks nor falls.
“These to the nimble fancy do discover
“The doubts and fear-shaken hopes are in a Lover.

185

Whilst here she sate one the embroidered ground
Musing on her new Love, her busie head
With thoughts was crowded. Now reason would have found
No cause to Love, because no hope to speed,
Then Love crost that; when from a Grot hard by
Her shady couch, she heard this melody.

Song.

1

Of all dread Monarchs falls, I wonder lest
At thine Cyrvs of Persia.
The Son may fall, and's Plumes adorn thy crest,
But thou must be the Mothers prey.
With men to fight that Sex hath ods
That triumphs both o'r Men and Gods.

2

In Peace, their arrowes slay, yet draw no blood,
In war, they win when lofe the Day.
Though Captives, on their Conqu'rers necks they tread,
And the fierce Victor make their prey.
Strong Sex! who from your chaine is free,
That though he foyles ye, bound must be?

186

The Eccho of the Grot much added to
The voyce and words, but for this cause it was
Sweet musick in Rosella's eare, she knew
By th'Tone it came from her dear Ulorvs,
Whom thus (known though unseen) in his own strain
She answered, and he repli'd again.

Rosella.
No, no, the Yoak must ever gall our necks
Our harsh Fates made us to obey.
In childhood we observe our Parents becks,
Then men doe steale our hearts away.
Wretched as weak our Sex is grown
Whose Wills and Hearts are ne'r our own,

Vlorus.
How wretched's he whose fortune lower lies
Than his Love will bow unto't?
Joves royall Bird preys not on silly Flies,
Shrubs wither at the Cedars root.
Fond Icarvs, rather then die tame
With secret griefe than open shame.

Rosella.
How fond is he his sword away will throw
Ere victory to his foe flies!
The highest Sun doth daign to shine below,
Palmes supprest doth higher rise.
Then live, or let thy fall be fair
By brave attempts, not base Despaire.

187

When her sweet Grace this word of comfort gave
To her sad Servant, now so nigh Despair,
She, modest, blusht, he smil'd, and seem'd to have
New sp'rit infus'd to him by her kind air.
Resolv'd at last his doubtfull prize to try,
And by her favour live, or frowning die.

188

She his approaches met as the coole stream
Doth bathing Virgins, when they first uncase
And come nigh, the coy Nymph to stop them seem,
But enter'd, she their limbs kisse and embrace.
Now nothings wanting but the Churches rites
To fill with joy their daies, with sport their nights.

189

Th'Youth to the foresaid Bower would oft resort
To kisse the leaves his Mistris sate among.
There one day musing of his future sport
He in an extasie this Rapture sung.
Think not this Humors madnesse, wise men say
All great wits have of Madnesse some allay.

A Rapture.

1

Come (Fairest) through the fleeting skie
Lets cut a way with nimble pace,
On Cvpids pointed wings lets flie
To Paradise, which is my place
Where I may banquet on thy face.

2

Hark! the Springs Quiristers conspire
With aires might make an Hermit dote
T'invite us to their leavy Quire,
And Philomela's well-strung throat
Is tun'd with an alluring note.

3

The flowrie Floore's embelished
With Cloris's painted Tapsterie,
By Nymphs at Loves command here spred,
Who meant that these should be for thee
A downy Bed, and thou for me.

4

No spies shall lurk here to reveale
To eares that itch with jealousie
The houres of Pleasure we two steale:
Great Jove knew no such Liberty
When he imbrac'd bright Danae.

5

Being set, lets sport a while (my Deare)
I will look Babies in thine eye,
Which shall i'th'shade make sun-shine cleer,
And Love knots in thy locks I'l tie
Wherein my Heart doth fetter'd lie.

6

I'l turne Loves Bee, and feast a while
On either Rose which kindly do
Unite in thy fair cheek, whose smile
Might make a Cynick love thee too,
And tempt him from his Tub to woo.

7

I will bedew with fervent kisses
The fresh Adonis on thy lip
That balmy Theater of blisses,
Chorus of kisses there shall skip
And in unnumbred Galliards trip.

8

The Violets of thy veines I'l tast
That in blew archt Meanders lay.
Thence to the vale of Lillies hast
In whose smooth allyes I will stray,
And 'mong their Mazes lose my way.

9

Next downwards I'l my way devoure,
To Loves sweet-bramble bush I'l fly,
And cull from evry spicy flower
Fresh bags of hony, till that I
Have swell'd therwith my laden thigh.

10

Then to thy hive my Load of Balme
I'l bring, where (as in thought before)
Halfe smothered in a sweaty Qualme,
I will unlade my plenteous store,
And roam about thy fields for more.

190

Now 'gan their Hymeneal's to approach,
The time's set. Titan, oft the Youth did say
Oftner the Maid, Lash on thy lazy Coach:
How thick thy cri'd, kind Phosphorvs bring the day.
It came at last (though their desires thought late,)
Then these Doves coupled, in this Masque-like State.

191

Bright Juga Jvno's Orgies are begun,
Above her Altar in a Saphire Cloud
Her airy Majesty displaid her Throne,
Supported by two Peacocks gay and proud.
The charming spirits of the air did beat
Their sacred concords 'bout her Starry seat,

192

With a white Diadem her brow was crown'd
From whence a swelling veile descended, flying,
Whose upper end a silken Fascia boun'd
Of severall hues, the many dies implying
The various mutations of the skie,
Of causing these she having th'faculty.

193

The wealthiest Gems in Neptvnes cabinet
Shon on her Fascia, in the top high
With Roses blooming as her cheek, and set
With Pestan Lillies, which her milk did die
That from her brest dropt, when Jove thence did pluck
Her Privignus, laid there by stealth to suck.

194

A Royall Scepter in her right hand shon,
Her left a Timbrell held; her golden feet
A Lyons shaggie hide trampled upon.
Thus in her Argive Temple did she set,
As 't'were insulting o'r her Lords two scapes,
The Monster-Master, and the God of Grapes.

195

The Region of Fier in an even
Circle was ever whirling 'bove her seen:
Jove standing in the top, (figuring the Heaven)
Brandishing flaming Bolts as if he'd been
To charge the Gyant Host. Iris below
Her Saphrie Throne, bent her enammel'd Bow.

196

Eight Ladies 'bout her Altar measur'd paces,
Enstil'd her Powers or her faculties,
Veil'd, lest all mortals with their dazling graces
Should (as th'armed Boy did) lose their eyes.
All these some Surname bore given properly
To Jvno, for some nuptiall mystery.

197

The first was Cvris, nam'd from th'Sabine Sphere
That Hast a Coelibaris, that had stuck
In the slain Gladiator: the Brides hair
With this she did divide, and keem and deck,
To tell her, as in him that fast did 'bide,
So close must she unto her male by ty'd.

198

Or it portended valiant men to come
Out of her loynes, or else this badg of sway
Denoted her subjection to her Groom:
Or rather it might be in memory
Of their first Marriages, by force contracted
With them that came but to see Plaies, yet acted.

199

Next Unxia with her wollen Fillets stood
The Posts and Columnes of th'House t'adorn,
And to annoint with hollow'd Oyles approv'd
And fat of Wolves and Beares mixt in a Horn
E'r the Bride enters: to expell thereby
All frights and evills from the Family.

200

The third was Jvga (that soul-mingling grace)
In silken Yoak the loving Pair that bind
Ready to Vnion to sacrifice
Two hearts melted and mixt into one mind.
Thus as two Maids of different sex made one
And to that state restor'd that first was known.

201

The fourth takes care that they remaine so still,
Gamelia, that behind the Altar throws
The Gall: no strife is left, no stubborn will,
But Peace and Love and Faith betwixt them growes.
Such was the golden Chain let down from Heaven
Of Linkes consisting thus well joyn'd and even.

202

The fift and sixt were Iterdvca, and
Her sister Domidvca, these are they
That were the Brides fair footsteps to attend
When to her Spouses house she took her way.
The seventh was Cinxia, that defends the Maid
Quit of her Zone, whilst in that state she staid.

203

The last was Telia, she that crowneth all,
That brings the gratefull hower, and excites
Lovers to reap the fruit of their long thrall,
Embracements, kisses, and those short delights
And melting toyes chast Love allowes; the same
That gives Perfection, and a womans name.

204

The Altar drest, first to it did approach
The Quinque Cerei attir'd in white.
These were five Pages, bearing each a Torch
Of Virgin Wax; their number, in the rites
Imply'd Perfection, seeing five is
The number whence sweet Union claimes her Blisse.

205

The Bridgroome, behind these, with Myrtle crown'd
Walk'd (like Loves Champion ready for the Lists)
With longing looks. His hair was short and bound
With party-colour'd Ribbands and Gold twists.
Her garments hues the whitest Lillies stain'd,
And ruddy'st Roses that e'r Xevxis feign'd.

206

In Saffron-colour'd robes next Hymen came,
His under vestures white, his Socks were Gold,
His head with Roses crown'd and Marjoram:
A Torch of Pine Tree his right hand did hold,
His left a blushing veile, to signifie
The bedded Virgins bashfull modesty,

207

Then came Camillus, a young youth in white,
Bearing a Torch of white and blooming Thorn,
To fright all malice with the ominous light,
In sign too of Increase this Tead was born.
Next came a Rock and Spindle, nothing good
These shew, gives check unto the highest bloud.

208

'Twixt them the Lovely Bride was led; Her Head
A Rosse Crown had like a Turret made,
Her loosly flowing hair with grey was shed
To shew she enter'd to a Matrons state.
Wherfore a Weathers Snowie fleece was worn
At her back, that she might not labour scorn.

209

Her robe so white, was nothing else durst vie
With it, but her pure skin. Bout her small wast
In many many folds and contrary
Circles her Virgin Zone of Wool was cast,
Yet met in one Herculean, that binds,
To intimate, so should all married minds.

210

With fire and water th'Auspices came next,
To shew, that as each Birth is helpt to life
By female moisture with male Heat well mixt:
So for their likenesse sake joyn Man and Wife.
Last, the Musicians came, with Rosebuds crown'd,
Strayning their Organs high, this air to sound.

Song.

Virgins Imprison your liberall flowing hair
In Ribbands white:
Bright Vnions Altar, and her rites prepare,
Her cleer Pines light
And Io sing, then dew your eyes
'Cause you are not the Sacrifice.

211

Now leave yee Jvno's Orgies to begin
The Gods whose nights outshines his daies so far.
Th'Idalian Star that so long wisht hath been
Now gives Alarum to the peacefull War.
And chides you for dalaying rites behind
That have, though lesse of state, yet more of kind.

212

See! Mirtles trim your way. See! Roses there
Flow in whole showers, and Violets seem to grow
I'th' Chamber, as if Venvs Mead it were,
Where you shall revell in Loves Sphere, and know
Nor fear, nor change; exalted far above
Even hope, and th'Wheel that spins the fates of Love.

213

The Zones strong knots the Gallant has unti'd,
And's ready other pretty difficulties
T'encounter. Matrons sage have plac'd his Bride,
Whilst he then out his cloathes like lightning flies
And shoots himself into her Bosome, notes
Wee'l borrow of the Spheres to tune these votes.

Epithalamium.

To Bed, Yee two in one united, go,
Passe Doves in billing:
Mix ye, and struggle till your marrow flow,
Embrace more willing
Than th'Loving Palmes (great Vnions wonder)
That ne'r bore any fruit asunder.

Be young to either, when Winter and grey haires
Your heads shall climbe,
May your affections like the merry Spheres
Still move in Time;
And may (with many a good Presage)
Your Marriage prove your Merry Age.

214

Next Day, when the fair Bride might boast a name
More noble, and 'rose perfect as her Mother,
All sorts joyn'd hands to celebrate her fame,
And grace the Pomp with some device or other.
Songs lull'd the Aier, and the battering feet
Of tilting Steeds dull Earth to motion beat.

215

The honest Swaines, whose Rustick paines and Love,
The noblest Princes are too high to scorne,
Joyn'd in a Pastorall, both their mirth to move
And shew what dutious minds by them were born.
To name no more, there Willie to his mate.
The last daies Pomp thus bluntly did relate.

A Ballade Vpon the Wedding.

1

I tell thee Jack as I sought out
A stragling Lambe which straid about
The Hony-suckled Plaine,
Mine eyes met such brave things i'th'way,
As I ne'r saw before that day
Nor never shall againe.

2

From yon gay House there came a Band
Of simpring Courtiers hand in hand,
Drest wondrous brave and fine.
But O their Leader was a Lad
In such a gaudy habit clad,
As he did all out-shine.

3

Our Lord o'th'Town bears not such Port
When he fits talking Law i'th'Court,
With's Tenants round about.
Should he be on the green at Night,
(Jack) thee and I each Lasse would slight,
And crowd to take him out.

4

But wot you why he went so gay,
It seems it was his wedding Day,
And now to Church he go.
Me thought he lookt oft at the Sun,
As if he wisht his race were run,
So did the Bride also.

5

The Bride! the bravest in the row
Our Town and all our Hundred too
Can't shew the like I'l swear.
I ne'r saw Lady at a May
Or Shrovetide, or on Whit sonday
That with her might compare.

6

Of a pair of Indies I've been told,
Where men find precious stones and Gold,
I wot not where they are.
Nor doe I mind to go to see,
But doubtlesse if such things there be
I think they'r both in her.

7

The East, the tramells of her hair
Gilt by Phœbus beames appear
Like to a golden Fleece,
More rich and fair than that which
Was stollen by the Colchan Witch
And the bold Youth of Greece.

8

Her sparkling Eyes are Jems so fair,
Their lustre dims the twinckling Star
Which bids us Shepherds fold.
Her lips be Corrall of great price,
Her breath is Violet buds, and Spice
Whose worth cannot be told.

9

The other Indies men call West,
These she hath too, and he is blest
That sought their secret treasure;
But did he dig in those mines though,
So oft as some in thought did do,
He'd labour'd out of measure.

10

Her milkie skin and front did show
Like Meadowes clad in Winters Snow
Or Cotshall Wool new drest;
Or like the girdle of the Skie,
Or a smooth mount of Ivory,
Or like to curds new prest.

11

Her cheeks (wherein both Roses joyne)
Seem'd Milk commixt with Claret wine,
Such as we drank last May Day.
No Tulip e'r such colour wore,
They look'd like Strawberries sugar'd o'r.
Such as we eat last Play Day.

12

When to the new swept Church they came,
The lightning which this Princely Dame
Shot from her eyes so bright
Struck blind the Parson, so that he
Poor Beauty-blasted Man, could see
Scarcely to read aright.

13

For all his Coat or Gravity,
I think he wisht as ill as I
Or any that stood by her.
Though all did look as who should say
Their very soules did melt away,
And drop before the fire.

14

The rites done (which like long Grace do
But keep them off that would fall to)
The two, now one, went home,
And call'd the waiters (Sans delay)
To serve the dinner up, though they
Had their Feast yet to come.

15

The Cooks to give the Guests content
Had plundred evry Element,
And rifled Sea and shore.
Beshrew my Heart I ne'r did see
Boards deckt with such variety,
And laden with such store.

16

Now were our Heads with Rosebuds crown'd
And flowing cups ran swiftly round,
Wee all did drink like Fishes;
That joy and pleasure may betide
The Bridegroome, 'specially the Bride,
Each lusty Gallant wishes.

17

The Womens eyes dwelt on the Maid,
Some lik't this Lace, some that, and said
'Twas A la mode du France.
And drew the picture of the Peak:
But then the Youth did silence break,
And call'd them forth to dance.

18

No dapper Elves or light-heel'd Fawnes
Could nimblier Trip it o'r the Lawnes,
Or Faries o'r the green.
Though by the Bride all were as far
Outstript as frisking Faries are
By Mistris Mab the Queen.

19

No Jack a Lent danc'd such a way,
No Sun upon an Easter Day
Is such a bouny sight.
Yet in her eyes I read that she
Meant to outstip her selfe, and be
Much nimbler far at night.

20

Now Supper came and Healths went round,
In full fill'd crowned Bowles we drown'd
The slow and tedious Day.
In Singing, Kissing oft, and Dancing,
In sighing, wishing well, and glancing,
We drave the Time away.

21

Till th'Nightingale did chant her Vesper
And our curl'd Dogs were warn'd by Hesper
To Congregate our Sheep.
Till the gay Planet of the East
Took leave of Iris, and did hast
To's sea-green Couch to sleep.

22

Now (Jack) th'unwilling willing Bride,
With th'busie Virgin crew, aside
Was stoll'n to undresse.
The Youth whose active blood began
To strike up Loves Tantarra, cam
Within an hower and lesse.

23

In came he, where she blushing lay,
Like to a Musk-Rose into a
Lap full of Lillies cast.
What pitty tis we still should stay,
And make them riper Joyes delay,
Only a kisse to tast!

24

But still as 'twere to crosse their blisse,
The Bridemaids Banquet enter'd is,
The Youth devour'd it halfe,
To end it, not his tast to please.
For minding those sweats comming, these
Were dull, as Whey and Chaffe.

25

At last, the lights and wee, went out.
Now what remain'd to do, they do't.
Some say they danc'd a Jig.
If so (Jack) 'twas but such as that
That thou and I i'th' Bower had
With Betty and with Peg.

216

But ah! how short's the tenure of mans blisse
On this side immortality! alas!
The gaudiest Fate with black lines dapled is.
What mortall e'r so bright a day did passe,
But viewing o'r the howers at Night, has seen
Some he had wish'd had not so gloomy been?

217

Yee happy Hermits! secur'd by kind fate,
From the gilt curse of Fortunes flattery!
Your blisse alone enjoyes a fixed seat,
Ours ebb and flow; you only wealthy be
In voluntary Poverty, and still
Pleas'd what e'r comes, since what's heavens is your will.

218

Whilst we are the blind Idoll Fortune's sport,
We are her Balls (stufft (ah) how beggerly)
The world so hazzardfull's her Tennis-court,
Contents the Cord, Her bandying Rackets be
Hope and Despair, with these, she (wanting eyne)
Tosse us, ofter below than 'bove the Line.

219

Soon to Therevtvs this crosse newes made wing
That Ulorvs (who now he thought had made
The Wormes a feast) on Beauty banqueting
In his fair Daughters armes entwined laid.
So stead of being into his first dust thrown,
Of his own flesh was a chief member grown.

220

No Bear rob'd of her Cubs, no hunted Boar
Melted to foam, chaft with so buncht a brow.
As dread Tarpean Jove when's thunder tore
The Welkin, and his forkt bolts laid full low
Th'ambitious Piles the hundred hands had rear'd;
With wrath so arm'd the furious King appear'd.

221

How can an Infant Muse reach at such woe?
Which only he can tell that Father is
To but one girle (whom Cypria did indew
With her choice gifts, and Delius with his)
When he sees him clasp'd in her dear armes ly
Whom he thinks his, and her worst enemy?

222

What Earthquakes in a Land th'Kings anger makes!
As th'Forest trembles when the Lions roar,
As Schoole-Boyes when his rod their Master shakes:
Such Palsie seiz'd the Court, And horror more
Than curiosity made all long to know
Since the dread arm was up, whose should be th'blow.

223

But these are safe in their best sute of Male
Their Innocence, the Queen and hers are meant.
So meannesse oft times is the low shrubs baile,
When Cyclops sweat the lofty Cedars rent.
Now overhasty Prince, who would not be
Rather a Groom than Wife or Childe to thee?

224

The King no sooner thought it than he sent
To th'Ile a Confident, a man whose will
He knew was melted into his, and bent
To feast all's humors were they good or ill.
He in Commission strong and's trusty Band
Soon left his own, and gain'd th'Æolian strand.

225

What time the pale Moon peeping through a cloud,
The secrets of the sullen night behold,
He and his train through the Queens guard did croud
With the Black Rod in's hand, which, her, he told
The King had sent, in token she must go
With him, the cause and end she soon should know.

226

The patient Queen with humble grace repli'd,
“And wills the King I soon my end should know?
“I thank his Grace, by making me his Bride:
“He heav'd me to the high'st seat Earth can show,
“And still he's good (since then this Earth hath none
“More rich) in giving me a Heavenly Throne.

227

To th'Princesse Lodgings next this Messenger
Of Death made way, where he did vertue see
With valour sporting; she with her brave Dear,
She the sweet burthen of the Gallants knee.
So Turtles bill, so Kids upon the Plaine,
Their snowie limbes doe wantonly enchain.

228

One of her hands (that compact of firm snow
And softer Ivory) he glew'd to's Lip,
Her other play'd with's jetty Locks. Doves so
From twig to twig as her quick fingers trip
From curl to curl, do hasten; but as they
Are th'Fowlers: so must these be Fortunes prey.

229

Now blasts their ears the cruel Message sent
From th'angry King; now they (O harshest Death!)
From eithers sweet embracements must be rent.
This melts the Princesse's eyes, th'affright her breath
Stopt, and she fainting catcht fast at her Dear,
As drowning men at any bough that's near.

230

Upon his Arm she her declining head
Did rest, whilst death in gliding sleeps disguize
Crept softly o'r her silence; fear bespred
Her silver Lids as curtaines 'fore her eyes
(Wherein the Sun was set) that her losse might
Not give her fresh wounds by the bitter sight.

231

Those Corrall twins her Lips which late I guest
Bloud hardned into blushing stone, turn'd clay.
Her Breath retired to perfume her Breast;
Her Roses and her Lillies drooping lay;
Her late swift Pulses slept, and did constraine
Their wanton dances in her Saphire veine.

232

Th'uncivill Pursivant arm'd with the wreath
Of his dread Master, falleth foule upon
The noble Youth; nought threats he lesse than Death,
Than which the vigorous Law more harsh had none.
So Falstaffe triumph'd o'r Hotspur's stiffe clay;
But, what cannot resist is Asses prey.

233

The Gallant youth who in just rage e'r while
Would such unmannerly soules kick from their slime,
Now seems no sense of injury to feel
Because the Mans high trust secur'd his crime
From privat chastisement; words poiz'd should be
Not by their own weight but the tongues degree.

234

The Ladies that their due attendance paid
To the sweet Princesse in the fright all shear.
Distracted thus, few to their Mistris laid
Their helping hands, which they employ to tear
Their hair now skar'd on end: all their tongues thus
Secure thy selfe by flight Lord Ulorvs.

235

As the last Trump shall at that great Assiise
(That Day of raising bones, and quickning clay)
Rallie our scatter'd attomes, and we 'rise
From out the mouldie Beds wherein we lay:
So at that Loved name Rosella broke
The bars of drowzie Death, and gently woke.

FINIS.