The Scourge of Folly Consisting of satyricall Epigrams, And others in honour of many noble Persons and worthy friends, together, with a pleasant (though discordant) Descant upon most English Proverbs and others [by John Davies] |
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 | The Scourge of Folly |  |
IN THE RIGHT WELL-DESERVED praise and honour of my deere friend, Mr. Philemon Holland Doctor of Physicke, who hath giuen Paper no cause to Complaine.
When well I weigh how much obliegd I stand
To thee (rare HOLLAND, Subiect of my Song)
Among the rest, that hardly vnderstand
Those Authors, which thou makst to speake our Tongues
And when I minde thy WRONGS receau'd of late,
VVhereby this praise, for thy last paines was hid
By ENVY, MALICE, or by euill FATE,
I could not but thus right thee, as I did.
To thee (rare HOLLAND, Subiect of my Song)
Among the rest, that hardly vnderstand
Those Authors, which thou makst to speake our Tongues
And when I minde thy WRONGS receau'd of late,
VVhereby this praise, for thy last paines was hid
By ENVY, MALICE, or by euill FATE,
I could not but thus right thee, as I did.
247
The PEN vnspoild, though worne beyond a Pen,
The HAND vnwearied though with toyle opprest;
The HEAD diseasd for ease of Englishmen,
(Yet still hold out) in motion (yet) do rest.
They rest in motion; restlesse-rest is that;
Yet thats the rest thy Pen, thy Hand, thy Head,
Deere HOLLAND hath; which all (vntirde) translate
The greatest Volumes greatest Braines haue bred.
Life being so short, as from the Birth to Beere
Is but a span; all Times may well admire
How so much may be onely written heere,
VVhere toyle makes that short life more soone expire.
Had I an Angells Tongue, or else a Pen
Made of his Pinion (might I Iudge of thee)
I should so speake and write, that Gods and Men
Should see a Miracle of thee, through mee:
For, NATVRE workes but still to hold her state;
And, for that worke alone, neglecteth all:
But, thy Workes do her power in thee abate
For others good; thats supernaturall.
So, th'art a Miracle of Men, for Men;
Yet if this Miracle be thought vntrue;
To thy good HEART, from thy Head, Hand and Pen
Giue what is right, and then is all but due.
The HAND vnwearied though with toyle opprest;
The HEAD diseasd for ease of Englishmen,
(Yet still hold out) in motion (yet) do rest.
They rest in motion; restlesse-rest is that;
Yet thats the rest thy Pen, thy Hand, thy Head,
Deere HOLLAND hath; which all (vntirde) translate
The greatest Volumes greatest Braines haue bred.
Life being so short, as from the Birth to Beere
Is but a span; all Times may well admire
How so much may be onely written heere,
VVhere toyle makes that short life more soone expire.
Had I an Angells Tongue, or else a Pen
Made of his Pinion (might I Iudge of thee)
I should so speake and write, that Gods and Men
Should see a Miracle of thee, through mee:
For, NATVRE workes but still to hold her state;
And, for that worke alone, neglecteth all:
But, thy Workes do her power in thee abate
For others good; thats supernaturall.
So, th'art a Miracle of Men, for Men;
Yet if this Miracle be thought vntrue;
To thy good HEART, from thy Head, Hand and Pen
Giue what is right, and then is all but due.
To count the Volumes, most voluminous,
VVhich thou translated hast with care (past care)
And Art (past Art) vvere but superfluous:
For, all do knovv them, sith they famous are.
NATVRES great Secretary thou didst teach
To speake such English, as (though he be high
In cloudy-matter) English eyes may reach
His highest Pitch, that tryes the Eagles eye.
The Roman most renovvnd Hectorian:
Traians great MASTERS Moralls (boundlesse bookes)
Smooth Tranquill, and the rugged Ammian,
Thou mad'st as smooth to speake, as Pallas lookes.
VVhich thou translated hast with care (past care)
And Art (past Art) vvere but superfluous:
For, all do knovv them, sith they famous are.
NATVRES great Secretary thou didst teach
To speake such English, as (though he be high
In cloudy-matter) English eyes may reach
His highest Pitch, that tryes the Eagles eye.
The Roman most renovvnd Hectorian:
Traians great MASTERS Moralls (boundlesse bookes)
248
Thou mad'st as smooth to speake, as Pallas lookes.
And, for thy last, (but so it cannot bee
If life do last, for still thou wilt be doing)
There is a WORKE translated now by thee,
For which we long, the learned haue bene wooing,
In this, through thee, we see (as in a Glasse)
The wrinckled face of graue ANTIQVITY.
Thy passing Author here himselfe doth passe,
Or'e whome thou raign'st while he doth subiect lye,
Camden, whose Fame, nor Seas, nor Lands can bound
(Yet they best know him furthest from our ken;
For, English least do knowe his voyces sound)
Is made more famous by thy famous Pen.
For, now the English knowes his worthinesse:
His Countrymen now see him as he is:
Before, they at his Vertue could but guesse;
And guesse by Artlesse Aymes, that often misse.
If life do last, for still thou wilt be doing)
There is a WORKE translated now by thee,
For which we long, the learned haue bene wooing,
In this, through thee, we see (as in a Glasse)
The wrinckled face of graue ANTIQVITY.
Thy passing Author here himselfe doth passe,
Or'e whome thou raign'st while he doth subiect lye,
Camden, whose Fame, nor Seas, nor Lands can bound
(Yet they best know him furthest from our ken;
For, English least do knowe his voyces sound)
Is made more famous by thy famous Pen.
For, now the English knowes his worthinesse:
His Countrymen now see him as he is:
Before, they at his Vertue could but guesse;
And guesse by Artlesse Aymes, that often misse.
Yet, Man of Art; behold! for all this All
How thou art subiect (that deserust to raigne
In all mens loues) to hate of great, and small,
That to be learnd alone, take enuious paine;
Who seeke, for Knowledge onely to be knowne:
(“For, who know most, are knowne still most of all)
They deeme Wit, Folly; that to all is showne;
And Goodnesse, Badnesse hold, if generall.
Who knowes the voyce of Enuy, theirs do know;
For, Enuy speakes but onely by theyr tongues,
Who, being a Devill, speakes (she cares not how)
By borrow'd Organs which to them belongs.
Alas poore Snakes! (base Enuies Instruments)
Poore in your Wit, and wayward in your will)
Yee little learne; so, hate the Ornaments
Of Art in greater Wits of lesser skill,
Did you not doubt your owne defect of VVit
You would all Arts should still be showne to all;
And let the best wit make best vse of it,
For Wits renowne, and letters liberall.
Yea, you would wish the Babylonian Tovvre
Were yet to build, while all one tongue impart;
That so, sole Witt might be Arts Gouernoure,
Not Tongues, that are the Essence of no Arte.
But were yee good, and would all Good should know
Who Enuy this more learn'd, lesse enuious man,
You would the frankest praise on him bestow
Who makes th' unlearn'd a learn'd Historian.
Shall English bee so poore, and rudely-base,
As not be able (through meere penury)
To tell what French hath said with gallant grace,
And most tongues else of lesse facundity?
God shield it should; and Heau'n forefend that wee
Should so debase our owne deere mother-tongue,
That shewes our thoughts (how euer high they bee)
With higher tearmes, and eloquence among.
Then, let me muzzle those so dogged mouthes
That byte and barke at what they should defend:
“They lyes do loue, that hidden would haue Tiuthes;
“And he is Vertues foe that's Errors friend.
But, kinde Philemon, let thine actiue Muse
Still mount aboue these base detracting Spirits:
Looke not so lovv as Snakes that men abuse;
And highest Fame shall crovvne thy lovvest merits.
Go forvvard (maugre backward enuies Crabs,
That still go backe) thy paines giue others pleasure:
They play proud Miriams part, thou Ion adabs,
They skant our learnings lists, thou giu'st vs measure.
This Camdens-Brittaine, that on wings of Arte
Flies ore the World, knowne least where most it ought.
There thy free Pen to all doth it impart,
And makst them learn'd that almost are vntaught,
For, Camden (whose all time-out-wearing fame,
Sith hee the Learned hath so often gladded)
Hath, by thy Pen, now multipli'd his Name:
For, now to Camdens Britaine, Holland's added.
Then, pregnant HOLLAND, Britaine fertile make,
With Learnings compost; till the Croppe of Arte
Be ready for our neighbours Sythe, and Rake,
That haue lesse skill than will to take our part;
So shall this Soile (when thou art Soile or Sand)
Call Camdens-Britaine, Hollands richest Land.
How thou art subiect (that deserust to raigne
In all mens loues) to hate of great, and small,
That to be learnd alone, take enuious paine;
Who seeke, for Knowledge onely to be knowne:
(“For, who know most, are knowne still most of all)
They deeme Wit, Folly; that to all is showne;
And Goodnesse, Badnesse hold, if generall.
Who knowes the voyce of Enuy, theirs do know;
For, Enuy speakes but onely by theyr tongues,
Who, being a Devill, speakes (she cares not how)
By borrow'd Organs which to them belongs.
Alas poore Snakes! (base Enuies Instruments)
Poore in your Wit, and wayward in your will)
Yee little learne; so, hate the Ornaments
Of Art in greater Wits of lesser skill,
249
You would all Arts should still be showne to all;
And let the best wit make best vse of it,
For Wits renowne, and letters liberall.
Yea, you would wish the Babylonian Tovvre
Were yet to build, while all one tongue impart;
That so, sole Witt might be Arts Gouernoure,
Not Tongues, that are the Essence of no Arte.
But were yee good, and would all Good should know
Who Enuy this more learn'd, lesse enuious man,
You would the frankest praise on him bestow
Who makes th' unlearn'd a learn'd Historian.
Shall English bee so poore, and rudely-base,
As not be able (through meere penury)
To tell what French hath said with gallant grace,
And most tongues else of lesse facundity?
God shield it should; and Heau'n forefend that wee
Should so debase our owne deere mother-tongue,
That shewes our thoughts (how euer high they bee)
With higher tearmes, and eloquence among.
Then, let me muzzle those so dogged mouthes
That byte and barke at what they should defend:
“They lyes do loue, that hidden would haue Tiuthes;
“And he is Vertues foe that's Errors friend.
But, kinde Philemon, let thine actiue Muse
Still mount aboue these base detracting Spirits:
Looke not so lovv as Snakes that men abuse;
And highest Fame shall crovvne thy lovvest merits.
Go forvvard (maugre backward enuies Crabs,
That still go backe) thy paines giue others pleasure:
They play proud Miriams part, thou Ion adabs,
They skant our learnings lists, thou giu'st vs measure.
This Camdens-Brittaine, that on wings of Arte
Flies ore the World, knowne least where most it ought.
250
And makst them learn'd that almost are vntaught,
For, Camden (whose all time-out-wearing fame,
Sith hee the Learned hath so often gladded)
Hath, by thy Pen, now multipli'd his Name:
For, now to Camdens Britaine, Holland's added.
Then, pregnant HOLLAND, Britaine fertile make,
With Learnings compost; till the Croppe of Arte
Be ready for our neighbours Sythe, and Rake,
That haue lesse skill than will to take our part;
So shall this Soile (when thou art Soile or Sand)
Call Camdens-Britaine, Hollands richest Land.
The Unfained honorer of Thee and thine Endeuours, I. D.
| The Scourge of Folly | |