Natures Picture Drawn by Fancies Pencil To the Life Being several Feigned Stories, Comical, Tragical, Tragi-comical, Poetical, Romancical, Philosophical, Historical, and Moral: Some in Verse, some in Prose; some Mixt, and some by Dialogues. Written by the Thrice Noble, Illustrious, and most Excellent Princess, The Duchess of Newcastle [i.e. Margaret Cavendish]. The Second Edition |
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A Description of the Fall of foolish and self-conceited Pride.
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 | Natures Picture Drawn by Fancies Pencil To the Life |  |
A Description of the Fall of foolish and self-conceited Pride.
There was a Lady rich, that sate in state
And round about her did her Servants wait:
Where every Tongue did walk still in their turn,
But in the ways of Flattery they run.
And round about her did her Servants wait:
Where every Tongue did walk still in their turn,
But in the ways of Flattery they run.
You are, said one, the finest drest to day;
A Heavenly Creature, did another say:
Your Skin is purer far, than Lillies white,
And yet is clear and glassy as the Light:
And from your Eyes such splendrous rays do spread,
That they seem like a Glory round your Head:
Your Wit is such, 'tis supernatural;
And all that hear you speak, straight Lovers fall:
The sound but of your Voice, charms every Ear,
And when you speak, your breath perfumes the air.
A Heavenly Creature, did another say:
Your Skin is purer far, than Lillies white,
And yet is clear and glassy as the Light:
And from your Eyes such splendrous rays do spread,
That they seem like a Glory round your Head:
Your Wit is such, 'tis supernatural;
And all that hear you speak, straight Lovers fall:
The sound but of your Voice, charms every Ear,
And when you speak, your breath perfumes the air.
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Thus by these flatteries most proud she grew,
And scornful looks on every Object threw:
All Men she scorn'd that did to her address;
And laugh'd at all did love to her profess.
Her Senses for to please, she was so nice,
That nothing serv'd but what was of great price.
Thus did she live in Lux'ry, Pride, and Ease,
And all her Thoughts were still her self to please.
She never pray'd unto the Gods on high,
For she did think her self a Deity;
That all Mankind was made her to admire,
And ought her Favours most for to desire:
That every knee that bow'd not to her low,
Or whose demeanors did not reverence show.
She thought them Beasts that did not Merit know,
Or that her Frowns should work their overthrow.
Her Smiles and Frowns she thought such power had,
As Destiny, to work both good and bad.
And scornful looks on every Object threw:
All Men she scorn'd that did to her address;
And laugh'd at all did love to her profess.
Her Senses for to please, she was so nice,
That nothing serv'd but what was of great price.
Thus did she live in Lux'ry, Pride, and Ease,
And all her Thoughts were still her self to please.
She never pray'd unto the Gods on high,
For she did think her self a Deity;
That all Mankind was made her to admire,
And ought her Favours most for to desire:
That every knee that bow'd not to her low,
Or whose demeanors did not reverence show.
She thought them Beasts that did not Merit know,
Or that her Frowns should work their overthrow.
Her Smiles and Frowns she thought such power had,
As Destiny, to work both good and bad.
At last the Gods, that always have an eye
Upon the Earth, who all things do descry
Amongst poor Mortals, they this Lady spy'd,
Whose heart was swell'd, and thoughts were big with pride,
Begot by Pluto's Wealth, and Nature's Paint,
Bred in the Soul, which makes it sick and faint.
But Pride is nurs'd still by the Senses five,
VVhat from each Sense it sucks, it keeps alive.
But if no Nourishment it gets from those,
As Touch, Taste, Sound, sweet pleasant scent or shows.
It faints and pines away as starv'd, so dyes,
And in a Grave of Melancholy lyes.
But, as I said, when Gods poor Mortals view'd,
They for their sins, with Punishment pursu'd.
Upon the Earth, who all things do descry
Amongst poor Mortals, they this Lady spy'd,
Whose heart was swell'd, and thoughts were big with pride,
Begot by Pluto's Wealth, and Nature's Paint,
Bred in the Soul, which makes it sick and faint.
But Pride is nurs'd still by the Senses five,
VVhat from each Sense it sucks, it keeps alive.
But if no Nourishment it gets from those,
As Touch, Taste, Sound, sweet pleasant scent or shows.
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And in a Grave of Melancholy lyes.
But, as I said, when Gods poor Mortals view'd,
They for their sins, with Punishment pursu'd.
Then with this Lady they did first begin,
Many ill accidents at her they fling:
First, they did set her House and Goods on fire,
Where her rich Furniture did soon expire:
Then Envy sought all ways to pull her down,
And tax'd her Land as due unto the Crown;
And in that Suit great Sums of Money vast
Lawyers ingross'd, which made those Sums to wast.
And when those Lawyers got all that she had,
They cast her Suit, as if her Cause was bad:
By which her Lands she lost; then only left
Her rich with Beauty, but of Lands bereft:
In which she pleasure took, although but poor
Of Fortune's Goods, of Nature's Gifts sh' had store.
Many ill accidents at her they fling:
First, they did set her House and Goods on fire,
Where her rich Furniture did soon expire:
Then Envy sought all ways to pull her down,
And tax'd her Land as due unto the Crown;
And in that Suit great Sums of Money vast
Lawyers ingross'd, which made those Sums to wast.
And when those Lawyers got all that she had,
They cast her Suit, as if her Cause was bad:
By which her Lands she lost; then only left
Her rich with Beauty, but of Lands bereft:
In which she pleasure took, although but poor
Of Fortune's Goods, of Nature's Gifts sh' had store.
But when the Gods did see her still content,
At last they to her Body Sickness sent.
She patient was, her Beauty still did last:
But when that they their Judgment on that cast,
Making a Grave to bury Beauty in,
Which Beauty once did tempt the Saints to sin:
Because her Face so full of Pock-holes were,
That none could judg that Beauty once dwelt there.
Then did she sit and weep, turn'd day to Night,
Asham'd she was to shew her Face the light.
At last they to her Body Sickness sent.
She patient was, her Beauty still did last:
But when that they their Judgment on that cast,
Making a Grave to bury Beauty in,
Which Beauty once did tempt the Saints to sin:
Because her Face so full of Pock-holes were,
That none could judg that Beauty once dwelt there.
Then did she sit and weep, turn'd day to Night,
Asham'd she was to shew her Face the light.
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Time, an Ingraver, cuts the Seal of Truth;
And, as a Painter, draws both age and youth:
His Colours, mix'd with Oyl of Health, lays on;
The plump smooth Youth he pencils thereupon:
Shadows of Age he placeth with much skill,
Making the hollow places darkest still.
But Time is slow, and leisure he doth take,
No price will hasten him his Works to make;
But accidental Chance, who oft doth jarr
With aged Time, and then some Works doth marr.
And, as a Painter, draws both age and youth:
His Colours, mix'd with Oyl of Health, lays on;
The plump smooth Youth he pencils thereupon:
Shadows of Age he placeth with much skill,
Making the hollow places darkest still.
But Time is slow, and leisure he doth take,
No price will hasten him his Works to make;
But accidental Chance, who oft doth jarr
With aged Time, and then some Works doth marr.
But when her wealth was gon, and state was down,
Then did her Friends and Servants on her frown;
So far now from professing Slavery,
As they did use her most uncivilly;
Would rail against her, spightful words throw out;
Or had she been but guilty, would (no doubt)
Betray her life: such natures have Mankind,
That those in Misery no Friends can find:
For Fortune's Favours only Friendships make.
But few are Friends only for Virtue's sake;
In Fortune's Frowns Man will not only be
A Neuter, but a deadly Enemy:
Nay, ev'n a Devil to torment the Mind,
If he no mischief 'gainst the body find.
Then did her Friends and Servants on her frown;
So far now from professing Slavery,
As they did use her most uncivilly;
Would rail against her, spightful words throw out;
Or had she been but guilty, would (no doubt)
Betray her life: such natures have Mankind,
That those in Misery no Friends can find:
For Fortune's Favours only Friendships make.
But few are Friends only for Virtue's sake;
In Fortune's Frowns Man will not only be
A Neuter, but a deadly Enemy:
Nay, ev'n a Devil to torment the Mind,
If he no mischief 'gainst the body find.
But after she had mourn'd Three hundred days,
Consid'ring Nature's, Fortune's various ways;
She did repent, weeping for what was past,
Imploring Gods to pity her at last.
Consid'ring Nature's, Fortune's various ways;
She did repent, weeping for what was past,
Imploring Gods to pity her at last.
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Good Gods! forgive my Vanity and Pride,
Let not my Soul with sinful spots be dy'd;
Let your great Mercies scour those spots off clean,
That by your Justice no spots may be seen.
Consider, Lord, the Works that Nature makes,
The Matter, Motion, and the Form she takes;
The Grounds and Principles on which she builds;
The Life and Death in all things she distills,
Is various still; in what she doth compose,
Nothing but wild Inconstancy she shows.
Nor is it only the substantial part
That is compos'd thus by her Curious Art:
But what we call Immortal, as the Soul,
Doth various passions appetites controul.
And as all bodies that are young, want strength,
And wait for Time to give them breadth and length;
So doth the Soul want Understanding too,
And knows not what is best to think or do:
Wherefore, great Jove, I never shall despair
Of thy sweet Mercy, nor yet Devils fear.
Let not my Soul with sinful spots be dy'd;
Let your great Mercies scour those spots off clean,
That by your Justice no spots may be seen.
Consider, Lord, the Works that Nature makes,
The Matter, Motion, and the Form she takes;
The Grounds and Principles on which she builds;
The Life and Death in all things she distills,
Is various still; in what she doth compose,
Nothing but wild Inconstancy she shows.
Nor is it only the substantial part
That is compos'd thus by her Curious Art:
But what we call Immortal, as the Soul,
Doth various passions appetites controul.
And as all bodies that are young, want strength,
And wait for Time to give them breadth and length;
So doth the Soul want Understanding too,
And knows not what is best to think or do:
Wherefore, great Jove, I never shall despair
Of thy sweet Mercy, nor yet Devils fear.
To punish Ignorance, Youth rash ways runs,
Which Age by long-experienc'd knowledg shuns:
But Age oft time's as faulty, as Youths be
Corrupted with bad Principles: we see
That length of Time and Custom makes them shew
As if in Man they naturally grew.
Which Age by long-experienc'd knowledg shuns:
But Age oft time's as faulty, as Youths be
Corrupted with bad Principles: we see
That length of Time and Custom makes them shew
As if in Man they naturally grew.
But to conclude, the time she had to live,
She heartily unto the Gods did give:
Though young, into a Nunnery she went,
Her Vows unto the Gods she did present:
Her Days not being long, she soon there dy'd,
And now her Soul with Angels doth reside:
For with her Penance, Tears, and Contrite Spirit,
She wash'd away her sins, and Heav'n did merit.
She heartily unto the Gods did give:
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Her Vows unto the Gods she did present:
Her Days not being long, she soon there dy'd,
And now her Soul with Angels doth reside:
For with her Penance, Tears, and Contrite Spirit,
She wash'd away her sins, and Heav'n did merit.
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