Ivvenilia :: :: University of Virginia Library

Hah! will they storme? why let thē; who needs care?
Or who dares frown on what the Muses dare,
Who when they list can for a tempest call,
Which thunder louder then their fury shall?
And if men causelesly their power contemne,
Will more then mortall vengeance fling on them?

With thine owne trembling spirit, thou didst view
These free-borne lines; that doubtst what may ensue:
For if thou selest the temper of my soule,
And knewst my heart, thou wouldst not feare controul.

Doe not I know, my honest thoughts are cleare
From any private spleene, or malice here?
Doe not I know that none will frowne at this,
But such as have apparant guiltinesse;

Or such as must to flame and ruine runne,
As some, once ayming at my fall have done?
And can I feare those Idle scar-crowes then?
Those bugg-beare perils, those meere shades of men?
At whose displeasure they for terror sweat,
Whose heart upon the worlds vaine love is set?

No; when this Motto first, I mine did make,
To me I tooke it, not for fashions sake:
But that it might expresse me as I am,
And keepe me mindefull to be still the same.
Which I resolve to be: For, could the eye
Of other men within my breast espie
My resolution, and the Cause thereof;
They durst not at this boldnesse make a scoffe.

Shall I be fearefull of my selfe to speake;
For doubt some other may exceptions take?
If this age hold; ere long we shall goe neere
Of ev'ry word of our, to stand in feare.
And (five to one) if any should confesse
Those sinnes in publike, which his soule oppresse:
Some guilty fellow (moou'd thereat) would take it
Vnto himselfe; and so, a Libell make it.
Nay; We shall hardly be allowd to pray
Against a crying-sinne; lest great men may
Suspect, that by a figure we intend
To point out them: and how they doe offend:
As I have hope to prosper; e're I'le fall
To such a bondage, I'le adventure all:
And make the whole world mad, to heare how I
Will fearelesse write and raile at Villany.
But oh! beware (gray hayrd discretion sayes)
The Dogge fights well that out of danger playes.
For now, these guilty Times so captious be,
That such, as love in speaking to be free;

May for their freedome, to their cost be shent,
How harmelesse er'e they be, in their intent:
And such as of their future peace have care,
Vnto the Times a little servile are.

Pish, tell not me of Times, or danger thus:
To doe a villany is dangerous;
But in an honest action, my heart knowes
No more of feares, then dead men doe of blowes.
And to be slave to Times, is worse to me
Then to be that, which most men feare to be.

I tell thee Criticke, whatsoever Thou,
Or any man, of me shall censure now:
They, who for ought here written doe accuse,
Or with a minde malitious, taxe my Muse;
Shall nor by day awake, nor sleepe by night,
With more contentment, in their glories height;
Then I will doe, though they should lay me where
I must in darkenesse, bolts of Iron weare,
For, I am not so ignorant, but that
I partly know what things I may relate:
And what an honest man should still conceale,
I know as well, as what he may reveale.

If they be poore and base, that feare my straine:
These poore base fellowes are afraid in vaine.
I scorne to spurne a dogge, or strike a flye,
Or with such Groomes to soile my Poesie.
If great they were, and fallen; let them know,
I doe abhor to touch a wounded foe.
If on the top of honour yet they be:
'Tis poore weake honour, if ought done by me
May blot, or shake the same: yea, whatsoere
Their Titles cost, or they would faine appeare,
They are ignoble, and beneath me farre;
If with these measures they distempered are.

For, if they had true Greatnesse, they would know,
The spight of all the World, were farre below
The seate of Noblest Honour, and that He
In whom true worth and reall Vertues be,
So well is arm'd: as that he feares no wrong
From any Tyrants hand, or Villaines tongue.
Much lesse be startled at those Numbers would;
Where Uertue's praised, and proud Uice contrould.

Is any man the worse if I expresse
My Wants, my Riches, or my Carelesnesse?
Or can my honest thoughts, or my content,
Be turn'd to any mans disparagement,
If he be honest? Nay, those men will finde
A pleasure in this Picture of my minde,
Who honour Vertue, and instead of blame,
Will (as they have done) love me for the same.

You are deceiv'd, if the Bohemian State
You thinke I touch; or the Palatinate:
Or that this ought of Eighty-eight containes;
The Powder-plot, or any thing of Spaines:
That their Ambassadour neede question me,
Or bring me iustly for it on my knee.
The state of those Occurrences I know
Too well; my Raptures that way to bestow.

Nor neede you doubt, but any friend you have,
May play the foole, and if he lift the knave,
For ought here written; For it is not such
As you suppose; nor what you feare so much,

If I had beene dispos'd to Satyrize,
Would I have tam'd my Numbers in this wise?
No: I have Furies that lye ty'de in chaines,
Bold (English mastiffe like) adventrous Straines,
Who fearelesse dare on any Monster flye,
That weares a body of Mortality.

And I had let them loose, if I had list,
To play againe the sharpe fang'd Satyrist.
That therefore you no more mis title This,
I say, it is my Motto, and it is.

I'le have it so: for, if it please not me;
It shall not be a Satyr, though it be.
What is't to you (or any man) if I,
This little Poem terme as foolishly,
As some men doe their children? Is it not
Mine owne Minerva, of my braines begot?
For ought I know, I never did intrude,
To name your Whelpes, and if you be so rude,
To meddle with my Kitling (though in sport)
'Tis oddes, but shee'l goe neere to scratch you for't.

Play with your Monkey then, and let it lye:
Or (if you be not angry) take it pray,
And read it over. ------

------So, the Criticke's gone,
Who at these Numbers carpt, and We alone:
Proceede we to the matter.—