 | The Works of Michael Drayton |  |
477
THE OWLE.
BY Michael Drayton, ESQVIRE.
Noctuas Athenas.
478
TO THE HONOURABLE KNIGHT, SIR WALTER ASTON.
For the shrill Trumpet, and sterne Tragick sounds,Objects out-ragious and so full of feare;
Our Pen late steep'd in English Barons wounds,
Sent War-like accents to your tunefull Eare.
Our active Muse, to gentler Morals dight;
Her slight conceits, in humbled tunes doth sing;
And with the Bird, regardlesse of the light,
Slowly doth move her late high-mounting wing.
The Wreathe is Ivie that ingirts our browes,
Wherein this Nights-Bird harb'reth all the day:
We dare not look at other crowning Boughes,
But leave the Lawrell unto them that may.
Low as the earth, though our Invention move:
High yet as Heaven, to you, our spotlesse love.
M. Drayton.
480
THE OWLE.
What time the Sunne by his all-quickning Power,
Gives Life and Birth to every Plant and Flowre,
The strength and fervour of whose pregnant ray,
Buds every branch, and blossomes every spray;
As the frim sap (the yeerely course assignde)
From the full root, doth swell the plenteous rynde:
The vitall spirits long nourisht at the heart,
Flie with fresh fire to each exterior part:
Which stirres Desire in hot and youthfull blouds;
To breathe their deare thoughts to the listing Woods.
With those light Flockes, which the faire Fields frequent,
This frollike Season luckily I went,
And as the rest did, did I frankly too,
“Least is he mark'd, that doth as most men doe.
But whether by some casuall defect,
All Flowres alike the time did not respect:
Some whose new roots ne'r saw a former May,
Flourish now faire, those withered quite away.
Into my thoughts that incidently brings
Th'inconstant passage of all wordly things.
The rarest worke whereat we wonder long,
Obscur'd by Time that Envie could not wrong.
And what in life can mortall man desire,
That scarsly com'n, but quickly doth retire?
The Monarchies had time to grow to head,
And at the height their conquered Honours fled:
And by their wane those latter Kingdomes rose,
That had their age to winne, their houre to lose,
Which with much sorrow brought into my minde,
Their wretched soules so ignorantly blinde,
(When even the great'st things in the World unstable)
That clime to fall, and damne them for a Bable.
Whilst thus my thoughts were strongly entertain'd,
The greatest Lampe of Heaven his height had gain'd;
Seeking some shade to lend content to me,
Lo, neere at hand, I spy'd a goodly Tree;
Under th'extensure of whose Lordly Armes,
The small Birds warbled their harmonious Charmes.
Where sitting downe to coole the burning heat,
Through the moist Pores evap'rating by sweate,
Yeelding my pleas'd thought to content (by chance)
I on a suddaine dropt into a trance:
Wherein me thought some God or Power Divine
Did my cleere knowledge wondrously refine.
For that amongst those sundry varying Notes,
Which the Birds sent from their melodious throats,
Each Sylvan sound I truly understood,
Become a perfect Linguist of the Wood:
Their flight, their song, and every other signe,
By which the World did anciently divine,
As the old Tuskans, in that skill profound,
Which first great Car, and wise Tyresias found,
To me bequeath'd their knowledge to descry,
The depth and secrets of their Augurie.
Gives Life and Birth to every Plant and Flowre,
The strength and fervour of whose pregnant ray,
Buds every branch, and blossomes every spray;
As the frim sap (the yeerely course assignde)
From the full root, doth swell the plenteous rynde:
The vitall spirits long nourisht at the heart,
Flie with fresh fire to each exterior part:
Which stirres Desire in hot and youthfull blouds;
To breathe their deare thoughts to the listing Woods.
With those light Flockes, which the faire Fields frequent,
This frollike Season luckily I went,
And as the rest did, did I frankly too,
“Least is he mark'd, that doth as most men doe.
But whether by some casuall defect,
All Flowres alike the time did not respect:
Some whose new roots ne'r saw a former May,
Flourish now faire, those withered quite away.
Into my thoughts that incidently brings
Th'inconstant passage of all wordly things.
The rarest worke whereat we wonder long,
Obscur'd by Time that Envie could not wrong.
And what in life can mortall man desire,
That scarsly com'n, but quickly doth retire?
The Monarchies had time to grow to head,
And at the height their conquered Honours fled:
And by their wane those latter Kingdomes rose,
That had their age to winne, their houre to lose,
Which with much sorrow brought into my minde,
Their wretched soules so ignorantly blinde,
(When even the great'st things in the World unstable)
That clime to fall, and damne them for a Bable.
Whilst thus my thoughts were strongly entertain'd,
The greatest Lampe of Heaven his height had gain'd;
Seeking some shade to lend content to me,
Lo, neere at hand, I spy'd a goodly Tree;
481
The small Birds warbled their harmonious Charmes.
Where sitting downe to coole the burning heat,
Through the moist Pores evap'rating by sweate,
Yeelding my pleas'd thought to content (by chance)
I on a suddaine dropt into a trance:
Wherein me thought some God or Power Divine
Did my cleere knowledge wondrously refine.
For that amongst those sundry varying Notes,
Which the Birds sent from their melodious throats,
Each Sylvan sound I truly understood,
Become a perfect Linguist of the Wood:
Their flight, their song, and every other signe,
By which the World did anciently divine,
As the old Tuskans, in that skill profound,
Which first great Car, and wise Tyresias found,
To me bequeath'd their knowledge to descry,
The depth and secrets of their Augurie.
One I could heare appointing with his Sweeting,
A place convenient for their secret meeting:
Others, when Winter shortly should decline,
How they would couple at Saint Valentine:
Some other Birds that of their Loves forsaken,
To the close Desarts had themselves betaken,
And in the darke Groves where they made aboad,
Sang many a sad and mournfull Palinod.
And every Bird shew'd in his proper kind,
What Vertue, Nature had to him assign'd.
The prettie Turtle, and the kissing Dove,
Their faiths in Wedlock, and chaste Nuptiall Love:
The Hens (to Women) Sanctitie expresse,
Hallowing their Egges: the Swallow cleanlinesse,
Sweeting her Nest, and purging it of Doung
And every houre is picking of her young.
The Herne, by soaring shewes tempestuous showres,
The Princely Cocke distinguisheth the houres.
The Kite, his traine him guiding in the Ayre,
Prescribes the Helme, instructing how to stere.
The Crane to labour, fearing some rough flaw,
With Sand and Gravell burthening his Craw:
Noted by Man, which by the same did finde
To ballast Ships for steddinesse in winde.
And by the forme and order in his flight,
To march in Warre, and how to watch by Night.
The first of House that ere did groundsell lay,
Which then was homely, of rude Lome and Clay,
Learn'd of the Martin: Philomel in Spring,
Teaching by Art her little one to sing;
By whose cleere voice sweet Musike first was found,
Before Amphyon ever knew a sound.
Covering with Mosse the deads unclosed eye,
The little Red-brest teacheth Charitie:
So many there in sundry things excell,
Time scarce could serve their properties to tell.
A place convenient for their secret meeting:
Others, when Winter shortly should decline,
How they would couple at Saint Valentine:
Some other Birds that of their Loves forsaken,
To the close Desarts had themselves betaken,
And in the darke Groves where they made aboad,
Sang many a sad and mournfull Palinod.
And every Bird shew'd in his proper kind,
What Vertue, Nature had to him assign'd.
The prettie Turtle, and the kissing Dove,
Their faiths in Wedlock, and chaste Nuptiall Love:
The Hens (to Women) Sanctitie expresse,
Hallowing their Egges: the Swallow cleanlinesse,
Sweeting her Nest, and purging it of Doung
And every houre is picking of her young.
The Herne, by soaring shewes tempestuous showres,
The Princely Cocke distinguisheth the houres.
The Kite, his traine him guiding in the Ayre,
Prescribes the Helme, instructing how to stere.
482
With Sand and Gravell burthening his Craw:
Noted by Man, which by the same did finde
To ballast Ships for steddinesse in winde.
And by the forme and order in his flight,
To march in Warre, and how to watch by Night.
The first of House that ere did groundsell lay,
Which then was homely, of rude Lome and Clay,
Learn'd of the Martin: Philomel in Spring,
Teaching by Art her little one to sing;
By whose cleere voice sweet Musike first was found,
Before Amphyon ever knew a sound.
Covering with Mosse the deads unclosed eye,
The little Red-brest teacheth Charitie:
So many there in sundry things excell,
Time scarce could serve their properties to tell.
I cannot judge if it the place should bee,
That should present this prettie Dreame to Mee,
That neere the Eaves and shelter of a Stacke
(Set to support it) at a Beeches backe,
In a stubb'd Tree with Ivy over-growne,
On whom the Sunne had scarsly ever shone,
A broad-fac'd Creature, hanging of the wing,
Was set to sleepe whilst every Bird did sing.
His drowsie head still leaning on his brest,
For all the sweet tunes Philomel exprest:
No signe of joy did in his lookes appeare,
Or ever mov'd his melancholy cheere.
Ascallaphus, that brought into my head,
In Ovids Changes Metamorphised,
Or very like: but him I read aright,
Solemne of lookes as he was slow of sight;
And to assure me that it was the same;
The Birds about him strangely wondring came.
That should present this prettie Dreame to Mee,
That neere the Eaves and shelter of a Stacke
(Set to support it) at a Beeches backe,
In a stubb'd Tree with Ivy over-growne,
On whom the Sunne had scarsly ever shone,
A broad-fac'd Creature, hanging of the wing,
Was set to sleepe whilst every Bird did sing.
His drowsie head still leaning on his brest,
For all the sweet tunes Philomel exprest:
No signe of joy did in his lookes appeare,
Or ever mov'd his melancholy cheere.
Ascallaphus, that brought into my head,
In Ovids Changes Metamorphised,
Or very like: but him I read aright,
Solemne of lookes as he was slow of sight;
And to assure me that it was the same;
The Birds about him strangely wondring came.
Fie, quoth the Lennet, tripping on the Spray;
Rowze thee, thou sluggish Bird, this mirthfull May,
For shame come forth, and leave thy luskie Nest,
And haunt these Forrests bravely as the best.
Take thy delight in yonder goodly Tree,
Where the sweet Merle, and warbling Mavis bee.
Next, quoth the Titmouse, which at hand did sit,
Shake off this moodie melancholly fit.
See the small brookes as through these Groves they travell,
Sporting for joy upon the silver Gravell,
Mocke the sweet Notes the neighb'ring Sylvans sing,
With the smooth cadence of their murmuring.
Each Bee with Honey on her laden thye,
From Palme to Palme (as carelesly they flye)
Catch the soft wind, and him his course bereaves,
To stay and dally with th'inamored leaves.
This while the Owle, which well himselfe could beare,
That to their short speech lent a listning eare:
Begins at length to rowse him in the Beech,
And to the rest thus frames his reverend speech:
Rowze thee, thou sluggish Bird, this mirthfull May,
For shame come forth, and leave thy luskie Nest,
And haunt these Forrests bravely as the best.
483
Where the sweet Merle, and warbling Mavis bee.
Next, quoth the Titmouse, which at hand did sit,
Shake off this moodie melancholly fit.
See the small brookes as through these Groves they travell,
Sporting for joy upon the silver Gravell,
Mocke the sweet Notes the neighb'ring Sylvans sing,
With the smooth cadence of their murmuring.
Each Bee with Honey on her laden thye,
From Palme to Palme (as carelesly they flye)
Catch the soft wind, and him his course bereaves,
To stay and dally with th'inamored leaves.
This while the Owle, which well himselfe could beare,
That to their short speech lent a listning eare:
Begins at length to rowse him in the Beech,
And to the rest thus frames his reverend speech:
O all you feath'red Quiresters of Nature,
That power which hath distinguish'd every Creature,
Gave severall uses unto every one,
As severall seeds and things to live upon:
Some as the Larke that takes delight to build,
Farre from resort, amid the Vastie field;
The Pellican in Desarts farre abroad,
Her deare-lov'd issue safely doth unload;
The Sparrow and the Robinet agen,
To live neere to the Mansion place of Men;
And nature wisely which hath each thing taught,
This place best fitting my content fore-thought,
For I presume not of the stately Trees,
Yet where foresight lesse threatning danger sees,
The tempest thrilling from the troubled Ayre,
Strikes not the shrub, the place of my repayre.
The Fowlers snares in Ambush are not lay'd,
T'intrap my steps, which oft have you betray'd.
A silent sleepe my gentle fellow Birds,
By day, a calme of sweet content affords;
By Night I towre the Heaven, devoy'd of feare,
Nor dread the Griphon to surprize me there.
And into many a secret place I peepe,
And see strange things while you securely sleepe.
Wonder not, Birds, although my heavie eyes
By Day seeme dimme to see your Vanities.
“Happie's that sight the secret'st things can spye,
“By seeming purblind to Communitie;
“And blest are they that to their owne content,
“See that by Night which some by Day repent.
Did not mine eyes seeme dimme to others sight,
Without suspect they could not see so right.
“O silly Creatures, happie is the state,
“That weighes not Pittie, nor respecteth Hate:
“Better's that place, though homely and obscure,
“Where we repose in safetie and secure,
Then where great Birds with Lordly tallons seize
Not what they ought, but what their fancies please:
And by their power prevailing in this sort,
To rob the Poore, account it but a sport:
Therefore of two, I chose the lesser evill,
“Better sit still, then rise to meet the Devill.
That power which hath distinguish'd every Creature,
Gave severall uses unto every one,
As severall seeds and things to live upon:
Some as the Larke that takes delight to build,
Farre from resort, amid the Vastie field;
The Pellican in Desarts farre abroad,
Her deare-lov'd issue safely doth unload;
The Sparrow and the Robinet agen,
To live neere to the Mansion place of Men;
And nature wisely which hath each thing taught,
This place best fitting my content fore-thought,
For I presume not of the stately Trees,
Yet where foresight lesse threatning danger sees,
The tempest thrilling from the troubled Ayre,
Strikes not the shrub, the place of my repayre.
The Fowlers snares in Ambush are not lay'd,
T'intrap my steps, which oft have you betray'd.
A silent sleepe my gentle fellow Birds,
By day, a calme of sweet content affords;
By Night I towre the Heaven, devoy'd of feare,
Nor dread the Griphon to surprize me there.
484
And see strange things while you securely sleepe.
Wonder not, Birds, although my heavie eyes
By Day seeme dimme to see your Vanities.
“Happie's that sight the secret'st things can spye,
“By seeming purblind to Communitie;
“And blest are they that to their owne content,
“See that by Night which some by Day repent.
Did not mine eyes seeme dimme to others sight,
Without suspect they could not see so right.
“O silly Creatures, happie is the state,
“That weighes not Pittie, nor respecteth Hate:
“Better's that place, though homely and obscure,
“Where we repose in safetie and secure,
Then where great Birds with Lordly tallons seize
Not what they ought, but what their fancies please:
And by their power prevailing in this sort,
To rob the Poore, account it but a sport:
Therefore of two, I chose the lesser evill,
“Better sit still, then rise to meet the Devill.
Thus the poore Owle, unhappily could preach,
Some that came neere in compasse of his reach,
Taking this Item, with a generall eare
(“A guiltie Conscience feeles continuall feare)
Soone to their sorrow secretly doe find,
“Some that had wink'd, not altogether blind.
And finding now which they before had heard,
“Wisdome not all, in every garish Bird,
Shrewdly suspect, that breviting by night,
Under pretence that he was ill of sight,
Slily had seene which secretly not kept,
Simply they wak'd; he subtilly had slept.
The envious Crow, that is so full of spight,
The hatefull Buzzard, and the ravenous Kite,
The greedie Raven, that for death doth call,
Spoyling poore Lambes as from their Dams they fall.
That picketh out the dying Creatures eye;
The theevish Daw, and the dissembling Pye,
That onely live upon the poorers spoyle,
That feed on Dung-hils of the lothsome foyle:
The Wood-pecker, whose hardned beake hath broke,
And pierc'd the heart of many a sollid Oke:
That where the Kingly Eagle wont to prey,
In the calme shade in heat of Summers day:
Of thousands of faire Trees there stands not one
For him to pearch or set his foot upon.
And now they see they safely had him here,
T'eschew th'effect of every future feare:
Upon the sudden all these murdrous Fowle,
Fasten together on the harmelesse Owle,
The cruell Kite, because his Clawes were keene,
Upon his broad-face wreakes his angry teene.
His Weasant next, the ravenous Raven plyes,
The Pye and Buzzard tugging at his Eyes.
The Crow is digging at his brest amayne;
The sharp-nebd Hecco stabbing at his braine,
That had the Falcon not by chance beene neere,
That lov'd the Owle, and held him onely deere,
Come to his rescue at the present tyde,
The honest Owle undoubtedly had dyde.
And whilst the gentle Fowle doe yet pursue
The Ryot done by this rebellious crue,
The lesser Birds that keepe the lower Spring,
There-at much grieve with wofull murmuring,
Yet wanting power to remedie his wrongs,
Who tooke their lives, restrained not their tongues:
The Larke, the Lennet, and the gentler sort,
Those sweet Musicians, with whose shrill report,
The senselesse Woods, and the obdurate Rocke,
Have oft beene moov'd: the warbling Throstle Cocke,
The Ousell, and the Nightingale among
That charmes the Night calme with her powerfull Song,
In Phœbus Lawrell that doe take delight,
Whom Joves fierce Thunder hath no power to smite.
Justice, say they, ah, whether art thou fled?
Or this vile World hast thou abandoned?
O, why, faire Vertue, wer't thou made in vaine?
Freedome is lost, and Libertie is slaine:
Whilst some whose power restrayned not their rage,
Loudly exclaime upon the envious Age,
That Rockes for pittie did resume them eares,
The Earth so wet with plentie of their teares.
But thus it hapt in heat of all these things,
“As Kings rule Realmes, God rules the hearts of Kings.
Some that came neere in compasse of his reach,
Taking this Item, with a generall eare
(“A guiltie Conscience feeles continuall feare)
Soone to their sorrow secretly doe find,
“Some that had wink'd, not altogether blind.
And finding now which they before had heard,
“Wisdome not all, in every garish Bird,
Shrewdly suspect, that breviting by night,
Under pretence that he was ill of sight,
Slily had seene which secretly not kept,
Simply they wak'd; he subtilly had slept.
The envious Crow, that is so full of spight,
The hatefull Buzzard, and the ravenous Kite,
The greedie Raven, that for death doth call,
Spoyling poore Lambes as from their Dams they fall.
That picketh out the dying Creatures eye;
The theevish Daw, and the dissembling Pye,
485
That feed on Dung-hils of the lothsome foyle:
The Wood-pecker, whose hardned beake hath broke,
And pierc'd the heart of many a sollid Oke:
That where the Kingly Eagle wont to prey,
In the calme shade in heat of Summers day:
Of thousands of faire Trees there stands not one
For him to pearch or set his foot upon.
And now they see they safely had him here,
T'eschew th'effect of every future feare:
Upon the sudden all these murdrous Fowle,
Fasten together on the harmelesse Owle,
The cruell Kite, because his Clawes were keene,
Upon his broad-face wreakes his angry teene.
His Weasant next, the ravenous Raven plyes,
The Pye and Buzzard tugging at his Eyes.
The Crow is digging at his brest amayne;
The sharp-nebd Hecco stabbing at his braine,
That had the Falcon not by chance beene neere,
That lov'd the Owle, and held him onely deere,
Come to his rescue at the present tyde,
The honest Owle undoubtedly had dyde.
And whilst the gentle Fowle doe yet pursue
The Ryot done by this rebellious crue,
The lesser Birds that keepe the lower Spring,
There-at much grieve with wofull murmuring,
Yet wanting power to remedie his wrongs,
Who tooke their lives, restrained not their tongues:
The Larke, the Lennet, and the gentler sort,
Those sweet Musicians, with whose shrill report,
The senselesse Woods, and the obdurate Rocke,
Have oft beene moov'd: the warbling Throstle Cocke,
The Ousell, and the Nightingale among
That charmes the Night calme with her powerfull Song,
In Phœbus Lawrell that doe take delight,
Whom Joves fierce Thunder hath no power to smite.
Justice, say they, ah, whether art thou fled?
Or this vile World hast thou abandoned?
486
Freedome is lost, and Libertie is slaine:
Whilst some whose power restrayned not their rage,
Loudly exclaime upon the envious Age,
That Rockes for pittie did resume them eares,
The Earth so wet with plentie of their teares.
But thus it hapt in heat of all these things,
“As Kings rule Realmes, God rules the hearts of Kings.
The Princely Eagle, leaving his abode,
Was from his Court stolne secretly abroad:
And from the covert, closely where he stood,
To find how things were censur'd in the Wood;
Farre in the Thickets might a chattring heare,
To which soone lending an officious eare,
With a still flight his easie course doth make
Towards where the sound he perfectly doth take.
At every stroke (with his Imperiall wings)
The gentle Ayre unto his Feathers clings;
And through his soft and callow downe doth flow,
As loth so soone his presence to forgoe,
And being at last arrived at the place,
He found the Owle in miserable case,
(For whom much sorrow every-where was heard)
Sadly bemoan'd of many a helplesse Bird.
But when this Princely Joviall Fowle they saw,
As now deliv'red from their former awe:
Each little Creature lifted up a wing,
With Ave Cæsar, to their Soveraigne King.
Who seeing the Owle, thus miserably forlorne,
Spoyl'd of his Feathers, mangled, scratcht and torne:
Will'd him his name and qualitie to shew,
How and wherefore he suffred all this woe:
Which the Owle hearing, taking heart thereby,
Though somewhat daunted with his piercing eye,
(With a deep sigh) My Soveraigne Leige, quoth he,
Though now thus poore and wretched as you see,
Athens sometime the Muses Nurcerie,
The source of Science and Philosophie,
Allow'd me freedome in her learned Bowers,
Where I was set in the Cecropian Towers.
Armed Bellona (Goddesse of the Field)
Honor'd my Portraict in her War-like Shield.
And for my studie (of all other Fowle)
The wise Minerva challenged the Owle:
For which, those grave and still-autentique Sages,
Which sought for knowledge in those golden Ages,
Of whom we hold the Science that we have,
For Wisedome, me their Hieroglifique gave.
The fruitfull Ceres to great Saturne borne,
That first with Sickle cropt the rip'ned Corne,
Shee bore the Swarty Acheron, whose birth,
Scarcely then perfect, lothing of the earth,
And flying all communitie with men,
Thrust his blacke head into the Stygian fen;
Where the Nymph Orphne in th'infernall Shade,
As in his streame she carelesly did wade:
The Floud imbracing craftily beguild;
By whom soone after shee conceav'd with Child,
Of her deare Sonne Ascallaphus, whose Youth
So cherish'd Justice, and respected Truth;
As to the Gods he faithfully did tell,
The tasted fruit by Proserpine in Hell:
Which an offence imagined so foule,
Ceres trans-form'd into the harmelesse Owle.
To our disgrace, though it be urg'd by some,
Our harmelesse kind to Creet doth never come;
The Cretians are still Lyers, nor come we thether,
For Truth and Falshood cannot live together.
But those that spurne at our contented state,
With Viperous envie and degenerate hate;
Strive to produce us from that Lesbian bed,
Where with blind Lust the fleshly Letcher led,
On his owne Child, unnaturally did prey,
(For that foule fact) transform'd Nyctimene,
But seldome seene unto the publique Eye,
The shreeking Litch-Owle that doth never cry,
But boding death, and quicke her selfe interres
In darkesome Graves and hollow Sepulchers.
Thus much, my Soveraigne, whence my Fathers came.
Now for the cause of this my present shame,
“Few words may serve a mischiefe to unfold,
“For, in short Speech long Sorrow may be told.
But for my freedome that I us'd of late,
To lanch th'infection of a poysoned state,
Wherein my free and uncorrupted Tongue,
Lightly gave taste of their injurious wrong.
The Kyte, the Crow, and all the Birds of prey,
That thy Liege people havocke Night and Day;
Rushing upon me, with most foule despight,
Thus have they drest me in this pityous plight.
Was from his Court stolne secretly abroad:
And from the covert, closely where he stood,
To find how things were censur'd in the Wood;
Farre in the Thickets might a chattring heare,
To which soone lending an officious eare,
With a still flight his easie course doth make
Towards where the sound he perfectly doth take.
At every stroke (with his Imperiall wings)
The gentle Ayre unto his Feathers clings;
And through his soft and callow downe doth flow,
As loth so soone his presence to forgoe,
And being at last arrived at the place,
He found the Owle in miserable case,
(For whom much sorrow every-where was heard)
Sadly bemoan'd of many a helplesse Bird.
But when this Princely Joviall Fowle they saw,
As now deliv'red from their former awe:
Each little Creature lifted up a wing,
With Ave Cæsar, to their Soveraigne King.
Who seeing the Owle, thus miserably forlorne,
Spoyl'd of his Feathers, mangled, scratcht and torne:
Will'd him his name and qualitie to shew,
How and wherefore he suffred all this woe:
Which the Owle hearing, taking heart thereby,
Though somewhat daunted with his piercing eye,
(With a deep sigh) My Soveraigne Leige, quoth he,
Though now thus poore and wretched as you see,
Athens sometime the Muses Nurcerie,
The source of Science and Philosophie,
487
Where I was set in the Cecropian Towers.
Armed Bellona (Goddesse of the Field)
Honor'd my Portraict in her War-like Shield.
And for my studie (of all other Fowle)
The wise Minerva challenged the Owle:
For which, those grave and still-autentique Sages,
Which sought for knowledge in those golden Ages,
Of whom we hold the Science that we have,
For Wisedome, me their Hieroglifique gave.
The fruitfull Ceres to great Saturne borne,
That first with Sickle cropt the rip'ned Corne,
Shee bore the Swarty Acheron, whose birth,
Scarcely then perfect, lothing of the earth,
And flying all communitie with men,
Thrust his blacke head into the Stygian fen;
Where the Nymph Orphne in th'infernall Shade,
As in his streame she carelesly did wade:
The Floud imbracing craftily beguild;
By whom soone after shee conceav'd with Child,
Of her deare Sonne Ascallaphus, whose Youth
So cherish'd Justice, and respected Truth;
As to the Gods he faithfully did tell,
The tasted fruit by Proserpine in Hell:
Which an offence imagined so foule,
Ceres trans-form'd into the harmelesse Owle.
To our disgrace, though it be urg'd by some,
Our harmelesse kind to Creet doth never come;
The Cretians are still Lyers, nor come we thether,
For Truth and Falshood cannot live together.
But those that spurne at our contented state,
With Viperous envie and degenerate hate;
Strive to produce us from that Lesbian bed,
Where with blind Lust the fleshly Letcher led,
On his owne Child, unnaturally did prey,
(For that foule fact) transform'd Nyctimene,
But seldome seene unto the publique Eye,
The shreeking Litch-Owle that doth never cry,
488
In darkesome Graves and hollow Sepulchers.
Thus much, my Soveraigne, whence my Fathers came.
Now for the cause of this my present shame,
“Few words may serve a mischiefe to unfold,
“For, in short Speech long Sorrow may be told.
But for my freedome that I us'd of late,
To lanch th'infection of a poysoned state,
Wherein my free and uncorrupted Tongue,
Lightly gave taste of their injurious wrong.
The Kyte, the Crow, and all the Birds of prey,
That thy Liege people havocke Night and Day;
Rushing upon me, with most foule despight,
Thus have they drest me in this pityous plight.
The Eagle now, a serious Eare that lent
To the Religious and Devout intent
Of the good Owle, whom too injurious fate
Had thus rewarded, doth commiserate
The poore distressed Bird, hoping to heare
What all the rest through negligence or feare,
Smothred in silence, and had buried still,
Covering the sore of many a festred ill:
Not onely grants him libertie of speech,
But further dayning kindly to beseech
The vertuous Bird no longer to refraine:
Who thus emboldned by his Soveraigne,
At length his silence resolutely brake,
And thus the Eagles Majestie be-spake.
To the Religious and Devout intent
Of the good Owle, whom too injurious fate
Had thus rewarded, doth commiserate
The poore distressed Bird, hoping to heare
What all the rest through negligence or feare,
Smothred in silence, and had buried still,
Covering the sore of many a festred ill:
Not onely grants him libertie of speech,
But further dayning kindly to beseech
The vertuous Bird no longer to refraine:
Who thus emboldned by his Soveraigne,
At length his silence resolutely brake,
And thus the Eagles Majestie be-spake.
Mightie, said he, though my plaine homely words
Have not that grace that elegance affords;
Truth of it selfe is of sufficient worth,
Nor needs it glosse of Arte to set it forth.
These hoary Plumes like Mosse upon that Oake,
By seeing much, yet suffring more I tooke.
Long have I seene the Worlds unconstant change,
Joy mooves not me, affliction is not strange.
I care not for Contempt, I seeke not Fame,
Knowledge I love, and glorie in the same.
Th'ambitious Judgement-seate I never sought,
Where God is sold for Coyne, the Poore for nought.
I am a helplesse Bird, a harmelesse Wretch,
Wanting the power that needfull is to teach.
Yet care of your great good and generall Weale,
Unlocks my Tongue, and with a fervent zeale
Breaks through my Lips which otherwise were pent
To that severe Grave Samnites document.
I know, before my harmelesse Tale be told,
The gripple Vulture argues me too bold.
The Cormorant (whom spoile cannot suffice)
Sticks not to charge and slander me with lyes,
The Parrot taxe me to be vainely proud,
And all cry shame, the Owle should be allow'd.
Which with this Axiome doth them all confute,
“When Kings bid speake, what Subject can be mute?
Have not that grace that elegance affords;
Truth of it selfe is of sufficient worth,
Nor needs it glosse of Arte to set it forth.
These hoary Plumes like Mosse upon that Oake,
By seeing much, yet suffring more I tooke.
Long have I seene the Worlds unconstant change,
Joy mooves not me, affliction is not strange.
I care not for Contempt, I seeke not Fame,
Knowledge I love, and glorie in the same.
489
Where God is sold for Coyne, the Poore for nought.
I am a helplesse Bird, a harmelesse Wretch,
Wanting the power that needfull is to teach.
Yet care of your great good and generall Weale,
Unlocks my Tongue, and with a fervent zeale
Breaks through my Lips which otherwise were pent
To that severe Grave Samnites document.
I know, before my harmelesse Tale be told,
The gripple Vulture argues me too bold.
The Cormorant (whom spoile cannot suffice)
Sticks not to charge and slander me with lyes,
The Parrot taxe me to be vainely proud,
And all cry shame, the Owle should be allow'd.
Which with this Axiome doth them all confute,
“When Kings bid speake, what Subject can be mute?
The latest Winter that fore-went our Prime,
O mightie Prince, upon a certayne Time
I got into thy Palace on a Night,
There to revive my melancholy Spright,
And there (for Darkenesse) wayting all alone,
To view (by Night) what Lords by Day looke on,
Where I beheld so many Candles light,
As they had mock'd the Tapers of the Night.
Where, for it grew upon the Time of rest,
And many great sinceritie profest,
Expecting Prayer should presently proceed,
To aske forgivenesse for the Dayes misdeed,
There in soft Downe the liquorous Sparrow sat,
Pamper'd with meats, full spermatike and fat.
His Drugs, his Drinks, and Sirops doth apply,
To heate his Blood and quicken Luxury;
Which by his billing Female was imbrac'd,
Clasping her Wings about his wanton Waste.
O God, thought I, what's here by Light within,
Where some in Darkenesse should have fear'd to sin?
O mightie Prince, upon a certayne Time
I got into thy Palace on a Night,
There to revive my melancholy Spright,
And there (for Darkenesse) wayting all alone,
To view (by Night) what Lords by Day looke on,
Where I beheld so many Candles light,
As they had mock'd the Tapers of the Night.
Where, for it grew upon the Time of rest,
And many great sinceritie profest,
Expecting Prayer should presently proceed,
To aske forgivenesse for the Dayes misdeed,
There in soft Downe the liquorous Sparrow sat,
Pamper'd with meats, full spermatike and fat.
His Drugs, his Drinks, and Sirops doth apply,
To heate his Blood and quicken Luxury;
Which by his billing Female was imbrac'd,
Clasping her Wings about his wanton Waste.
O God, thought I, what's here by Light within,
Where some in Darkenesse should have fear'd to sin?
The Cormorant set closely to devise,
How he might compasse strange Monopolies.
The gawdie Gold-Finch and his Courtly Mate,
My Madame Bunting powerfull in the State,
Quickly agreed, and but at little sticke,
To share a thousand for a Bishopricke,
And scramble up some Feathers from the Larke,
What though a Pastor and a learned Clarke?
And for his Reverence, though he weare a Cowle,
Yet at his entrance he must pay them Tole.
How he might compasse strange Monopolies.
490
My Madame Bunting powerfull in the State,
Quickly agreed, and but at little sticke,
To share a thousand for a Bishopricke,
And scramble up some Feathers from the Larke,
What though a Pastor and a learned Clarke?
And for his Reverence, though he weare a Cowle,
Yet at his entrance he must pay them Tole.
I saw a Buzzard scorning of the Blacke,
That but of late did clothe his needy Backe,
With Ostridge Feathers had trict up his Crest,
As he were bred a Falcon at the least.
Thus strouts he daily in his borrowed Plume,
And but for shame he boldly durst presume,
With Princely Eaglets to compare his sight:
Not the proud Iris in her colours dight,
Could with this base Kyte equally compare.
What Fowle before him stood not humbly bare?
No lesse then Lords attending every becke,
At his command his Betters brooke his checke.
But, O my Liege, the Birds of noble Race
Know whence He is, and who affords him grace,
And inly grieve to see a servile Mate,
Crept up by favour, to out-brave a State.
The poore Implumed Birds that by offence,
Or some disgrace have lost pre-eminence,
Can point and say, This Feather once was mine:
Some winke, some would, some grieve, and some repine.
That but of late did clothe his needy Backe,
With Ostridge Feathers had trict up his Crest,
As he were bred a Falcon at the least.
Thus strouts he daily in his borrowed Plume,
And but for shame he boldly durst presume,
With Princely Eaglets to compare his sight:
Not the proud Iris in her colours dight,
Could with this base Kyte equally compare.
What Fowle before him stood not humbly bare?
No lesse then Lords attending every becke,
At his command his Betters brooke his checke.
But, O my Liege, the Birds of noble Race
Know whence He is, and who affords him grace,
And inly grieve to see a servile Mate,
Crept up by favour, to out-brave a State.
The poore Implumed Birds that by offence,
Or some disgrace have lost pre-eminence,
Can point and say, This Feather once was mine:
Some winke, some would, some grieve, and some repine.
Besides all this, I saw a Bird did scowre
A Serpents teeth, that daily did devoure
Widdowes and Orphanes, yet th'Egyptian Sawes
Commend this Bird for clensing Serpents Jawes.
For the base Trochyle thinketh it no payne,
To scowre vile Carion for a savoury gayne.
When soone I saw about the Serpents nest,
Whil'st this base Slave his nastie Grinders drest,
A thousand thousand silly little Birds,
Covering the Fields, as doe the Summers Herds;
A thousand larger Fowles, that strangely carpe,
Did curse the Beake that made his Goomes so sharpe.
Yet in this base Bird I might well descry,
The prosperous fruit of thriving Policy.
A Serpents teeth, that daily did devoure
Widdowes and Orphanes, yet th'Egyptian Sawes
Commend this Bird for clensing Serpents Jawes.
For the base Trochyle thinketh it no payne,
To scowre vile Carion for a savoury gayne.
When soone I saw about the Serpents nest,
Whil'st this base Slave his nastie Grinders drest,
A thousand thousand silly little Birds,
Covering the Fields, as doe the Summers Herds;
491
Did curse the Beake that made his Goomes so sharpe.
Yet in this base Bird I might well descry,
The prosperous fruit of thriving Policy.
Casting mine Eye, and looking through a Glasse,
I saw a Gos-Hawke (that in State did passe)
That by faire shewes did Mens affections feele,
Gold (his Attendant) alwayes at his Heele.
Whole Mannors did him reverence as he staid,
Whose Name (if written) could possession plead
In any Lordship that adjoyned his:
Law was his Vassall, He and Purchase kisse.
Zeale was his Foole, and Learning was his Jester,
Yet Pride his Page, and Gluttony his Taster.
A thousand Suiters wayted at his Hand,
Some call'd his Honour Patrone of the Land;
The sole Commander of the Common-weale,
And unto him they humbly all appeale.
When in a Closet strangely I beheld,
That was adjoyning to a pleasant Field,
How every Suiter, when he was retyr'd,
Bought out his Peace, or his Promotion hyr'd;
Yet what he won with Curses was rewarded,
When the poore Birds, for Bribes alone regarded.
I saw a Gos-Hawke (that in State did passe)
That by faire shewes did Mens affections feele,
Gold (his Attendant) alwayes at his Heele.
Whole Mannors did him reverence as he staid,
Whose Name (if written) could possession plead
In any Lordship that adjoyned his:
Law was his Vassall, He and Purchase kisse.
Zeale was his Foole, and Learning was his Jester,
Yet Pride his Page, and Gluttony his Taster.
A thousand Suiters wayted at his Hand,
Some call'd his Honour Patrone of the Land;
The sole Commander of the Common-weale,
And unto him they humbly all appeale.
When in a Closet strangely I beheld,
That was adjoyning to a pleasant Field,
How every Suiter, when he was retyr'd,
Bought out his Peace, or his Promotion hyr'd;
Yet what he won with Curses was rewarded,
When the poore Birds, for Bribes alone regarded.
To th'secret of all secrets when I came,
Having mine Eyes glew'd up with griefe and shame:
I tell not how the Vulture sate apart,
Spending the Blood and Marrow of his Heart,
And by all meanes his Faculties t'apply,
To taynt the Phœnix by his surquedry,
That of her kind had shee beene more then one,
(Parent and Infant to her selfe alone)
This Heavenly Bird (in touching their defame)
Had had her Purple soyled with their shame.
And for the Turtle would not be unchaste,
Her did they banish to the barren waste.
I dare not say how every sort were search'd,
Nor dare I tell how Avarice was perch'd
Under the Pillow of the gravest Head,
(That freedome with the golden World is dead)
How Age had cast off a Religious life,
Humour of late become Opinions Wife.
Counsaile secure, nor compani'd with Care,
The Wit that woundeth Zeale, accounted rare.
Having mine Eyes glew'd up with griefe and shame:
I tell not how the Vulture sate apart,
Spending the Blood and Marrow of his Heart,
And by all meanes his Faculties t'apply,
To taynt the Phœnix by his surquedry,
That of her kind had shee beene more then one,
(Parent and Infant to her selfe alone)
This Heavenly Bird (in touching their defame)
Had had her Purple soyled with their shame.
And for the Turtle would not be unchaste,
Her did they banish to the barren waste.
I dare not say how every sort were search'd,
Nor dare I tell how Avarice was perch'd
492
(That freedome with the golden World is dead)
How Age had cast off a Religious life,
Humour of late become Opinions Wife.
Counsaile secure, nor compani'd with Care,
The Wit that woundeth Zeale, accounted rare.
But whither wandreth my high-ravisht Muse?
O, pardon Liege, the fierce exclaimes I use;
And let my Barque (by gales of your good grace
Through these rough Seas) beare Sayle a little space.
O, pardon Liege, the fierce exclaimes I use;
And let my Barque (by gales of your good grace
Through these rough Seas) beare Sayle a little space.
Scarce had these words found uttrance through my Lips,
But there withall a prattling Parrot skips
About the private lodging of his Peeres:
His Eyes were watchfull, open were his Eares:
He had a Tongue for every Language fit,
A cheverell Conscience, and a searching Wit,
Comming in haste as he had crost the Mayne,
And brought some strange intelligence from Spaine:
Yet even at mid-night (for the Rogue was poore)
I found him knocking at a great Mans doore;
And where of course the wise were turn'd away,
His errand brook'd no dilatorie stay,
But presently conducted (by a Light)
Into a Chamber very richly dight,
Where sat the Vulture with a dreadfull frowne,
Proud and ambitious, gaping for Renowne:
His Tallons red with Bloud of murth'red Fowles,
His full Eye quickly every way he rowles.
Whom when this Parrot stedfastly beheld,
His Feathers brisled and his Stomake sweld;
And to the Vulture openeth where he sat,
(Whose Eares attentive listned still thereat)
The state and haviour of each private Man,
Laid out for searching Avarice to scan.
Where by strict Rule and subtilties in Art,
Such traps were set, as not a Man could start.
And where th'Offenders maintenance was great,
Their working Heads they busily did beat,
By some strange Quiddit or some wrested Clause,
To find him guiltie of the breach of Lawes,
That he this present injurie to shift,
To buy his owne, accounts a Princely gift:
And for a cloke to their corrupt Decrees,
The Vulture with this subtill Bird agrees,
That they which thus convicted are apart,
Shall be surpriz'd by Policy and Art.
Then picke they forth such Theeves as hate the Light,
The black-ey'd Bat (the Watch-Man of the Night)
That to each private Family can pry,
And the least slip can easily descry;
And since his Conscience is both loose and large,
Is onely set to under-goe this charge;
Addrest to drinke of every private Cup,
And not a word slips but he takes it up,
To minister occasion of discourse,
And there withall, some dangerous Theame inforce,
To urge a doubtfull speech up to the worst,
To broach new Treasons, and disclose them first,
Whereby himselfe he cleeres, and un-awares
Intraps the Fowle, unskilfull of these Snares.
And (against Law) he beares his Lords Protection,
As a fit meane, and by the States direction.
O worthy Bird, prevent this ill in time,
And suffer not this ravenous Bat to climbe,
That is occasion of the Bests offence,
The Brat of Ryot and of Indigence,
The Moth and Canker of the Common-weale,
Bred by Corruption to disquiet Zeale.
But there withall a prattling Parrot skips
About the private lodging of his Peeres:
His Eyes were watchfull, open were his Eares:
He had a Tongue for every Language fit,
A cheverell Conscience, and a searching Wit,
Comming in haste as he had crost the Mayne,
And brought some strange intelligence from Spaine:
Yet even at mid-night (for the Rogue was poore)
I found him knocking at a great Mans doore;
And where of course the wise were turn'd away,
His errand brook'd no dilatorie stay,
But presently conducted (by a Light)
Into a Chamber very richly dight,
Where sat the Vulture with a dreadfull frowne,
Proud and ambitious, gaping for Renowne:
His Tallons red with Bloud of murth'red Fowles,
His full Eye quickly every way he rowles.
Whom when this Parrot stedfastly beheld,
His Feathers brisled and his Stomake sweld;
And to the Vulture openeth where he sat,
(Whose Eares attentive listned still thereat)
The state and haviour of each private Man,
Laid out for searching Avarice to scan.
Where by strict Rule and subtilties in Art,
Such traps were set, as not a Man could start.
And where th'Offenders maintenance was great,
Their working Heads they busily did beat,
493
To find him guiltie of the breach of Lawes,
That he this present injurie to shift,
To buy his owne, accounts a Princely gift:
And for a cloke to their corrupt Decrees,
The Vulture with this subtill Bird agrees,
That they which thus convicted are apart,
Shall be surpriz'd by Policy and Art.
Then picke they forth such Theeves as hate the Light,
The black-ey'd Bat (the Watch-Man of the Night)
That to each private Family can pry,
And the least slip can easily descry;
And since his Conscience is both loose and large,
Is onely set to under-goe this charge;
Addrest to drinke of every private Cup,
And not a word slips but he takes it up,
To minister occasion of discourse,
And there withall, some dangerous Theame inforce,
To urge a doubtfull speech up to the worst,
To broach new Treasons, and disclose them first,
Whereby himselfe he cleeres, and un-awares
Intraps the Fowle, unskilfull of these Snares.
And (against Law) he beares his Lords Protection,
As a fit meane, and by the States direction.
O worthy Bird, prevent this ill in time,
And suffer not this ravenous Bat to climbe,
That is occasion of the Bests offence,
The Brat of Ryot and of Indigence,
The Moth and Canker of the Common-weale,
Bred by Corruption to disquiet Zeale.
Holla! Thou wandring Infant of my brayne,
Whither thus fling'st thou? yet divert thy strayne,
Returne we backe unto our former gate,
From which a little we digrest of late,
And leave this Monster beating of his Head,
The honest Owle hath quickly strooke him dead.
And forth againe the Parrot let us find,
That winning credit so the World doth blind,
Under protection of so dread a Hand,
Spoyles Families, and ransacketh thy Land.
The Pellicane that by his Fathers teaching,
Hath with devout zeale follow'd wholesome Preaching,
That rent his Bosome, and inforc'd his Tongue,
To teach his tender and beloved Young:
When now these Fauters of all vile abuse,
Have found a stand where they may note his use,
How Father-like he gives Affliction Bread,
Converting Soules, by blind-fold Error led?
The naked Orphane in his bosome wraps,
With the poore Widdow doth bewaile her haps;
And never reapes his plentious Field so cleane,
But leaves his Harvest that the Poore may gleane;
Steps in this false Spie, this Promoting Wretch,
Closely betrayes him that he gives to each:
And for his deeds of Charitie and Grace,
Roots up his godly Hospitable Place.
Most like to that sharpe-sighted Alcatras,
That beates the Aire above the liquid Glasse:
The new-Worlds Bird, that proud Imperious Fowle,
Whose dreadfull presence frights the harmelesse Owle:
That on the Land not onely works his wish,
But on the Ocean kills the flying Fish.
Which, since the Owle hath truely done his arrant:
O, Princely Eagle, looke unto this Tyrant.
Whither thus fling'st thou? yet divert thy strayne,
Returne we backe unto our former gate,
From which a little we digrest of late,
And leave this Monster beating of his Head,
The honest Owle hath quickly strooke him dead.
And forth againe the Parrot let us find,
That winning credit so the World doth blind,
494
Spoyles Families, and ransacketh thy Land.
The Pellicane that by his Fathers teaching,
Hath with devout zeale follow'd wholesome Preaching,
That rent his Bosome, and inforc'd his Tongue,
To teach his tender and beloved Young:
When now these Fauters of all vile abuse,
Have found a stand where they may note his use,
How Father-like he gives Affliction Bread,
Converting Soules, by blind-fold Error led?
The naked Orphane in his bosome wraps,
With the poore Widdow doth bewaile her haps;
And never reapes his plentious Field so cleane,
But leaves his Harvest that the Poore may gleane;
Steps in this false Spie, this Promoting Wretch,
Closely betrayes him that he gives to each:
And for his deeds of Charitie and Grace,
Roots up his godly Hospitable Place.
Most like to that sharpe-sighted Alcatras,
That beates the Aire above the liquid Glasse:
The new-Worlds Bird, that proud Imperious Fowle,
Whose dreadfull presence frights the harmelesse Owle:
That on the Land not onely works his wish,
But on the Ocean kills the flying Fish.
Which, since the Owle hath truely done his arrant:
O, Princely Eagle, looke unto this Tyrant.
But if my words thou wilfully impung,
Thy peacefull Empire that hath flourish'd long,
Headlong at length shall to confusion run,
As was this great Globe ere the World begun,
When in an huge heape and unweldy masse,
This All was shut and Nature smothered was:
And in this Lumpe and Chaos out of Frame,
The contraries convers'd and one became,
Strictly together th'Elements were clasp'd,
And in their rough hands one the other grasp'd:
That each did others qualitie deface,
Beautie was buried, Light could find no place.
But when th'all-seeing Soveraigne did disperse,
Each to his place upon the Universe,
To his owne Region and his Contrarie,
Envy'd his Place, impung'd his Qualitie.
Fire, Ayre, Earth, Water, in their Mansion sate,
By that great God to them appropriate.
All was compos'd within this goodly Roome,
A perfect shape this Embrion was become;
Which thus dissever'd by their friendly jarres,
Contrive the Worlds continuance by their Warres.
So in confusion members are inclos'd,
To frame a State, if orderly dispos'd:
For to the proud malevolent aspect
Of angry Saturne that would all direct,
The long exiled, but Imperious Jove,
When for his Regall Soveraigntie he strove,
With God-like state and presence of a King,
Calmes Saturnes rage, his fury limiting.
Thy peacefull Empire that hath flourish'd long,
Headlong at length shall to confusion run,
As was this great Globe ere the World begun,
When in an huge heape and unweldy masse,
This All was shut and Nature smothered was:
And in this Lumpe and Chaos out of Frame,
The contraries convers'd and one became,
Strictly together th'Elements were clasp'd,
And in their rough hands one the other grasp'd:
That each did others qualitie deface,
Beautie was buried, Light could find no place.
495
Each to his place upon the Universe,
To his owne Region and his Contrarie,
Envy'd his Place, impung'd his Qualitie.
Fire, Ayre, Earth, Water, in their Mansion sate,
By that great God to them appropriate.
All was compos'd within this goodly Roome,
A perfect shape this Embrion was become;
Which thus dissever'd by their friendly jarres,
Contrive the Worlds continuance by their Warres.
So in confusion members are inclos'd,
To frame a State, if orderly dispos'd:
For to the proud malevolent aspect
Of angry Saturne that would all direct,
The long exiled, but Imperious Jove,
When for his Regall Soveraigntie he strove,
With God-like state and presence of a King,
Calmes Saturnes rage, his fury limiting.
But leave we those unto their owne decay,
Other occasions hasten us away:
Let Princes view what their poore Subjects try;
“Blind is that sight, that's with anothers Eye;
It is full time that we should get us hence,
O mightie Soveraigne, Oceans of offence,
Stand here opposed in my passing by,
When in a Chamber neere thy Majestie,
A jetting Jay accomplished and brave,
That well could speake, well could himselfe behave;
His Congies Courtly, his demeanour rare,
And strangely fashion'd as the Clothes he ware;
Which could each Man with complement salute,
Hee to the Wood-Cocke fram'd a speciall suite:
Who him imbracing like a brainelesse Foole,
Desir'd him sit, commanding him a Stoole
The jolly Jay thus graced by a Peere,
Plucks up his Spirits, and with a formall cheere
Breaks therewithall into most strange reports,
Of Flemmish newes, surprising Townes and Forts;
Of troubles rays'd in France against the King,
Spanish Armado's and Embattayling,
Protesting Method in Intelligence,
To be a thing of mightie Consequence;
And pawnes his Soule, he can devise a way,
Which put in Act, the Leaguers lose the Day,
To frame a Bridge of Bow-string o'r the Rhine,
Supplant the Alpes, and lay them smooth and plaine,
And that if the great Princes of the North,
Will with an Armie Royall set him forth,
Before the yeere expir'd that is to come,
He will with Burbon new beleaguer Rome.
Then of his knowledge in the Cabalist,
And what pertayneth to an Exorcist:
As of Philacters what their uses bee,
Homers Nepenthe how in each degree;
Each severall use in practique what it is;
How much he wants that doth these secrets misse,
And by some little Piller in that place,
To give some Window or some Chimney grace,
He to proportion presently doth runne,
And talkes of the Colossus of the Sunne:
Of Columnes the Diameters doth tell,
Even from the Base, up to the Capitell.
And to the Roofe he something doth allude,
And doth demonstrate of the Magnitude.
And what is all this from his addle pate,
But like a Starling, that is taught to prate?
Other occasions hasten us away:
Let Princes view what their poore Subjects try;
“Blind is that sight, that's with anothers Eye;
It is full time that we should get us hence,
O mightie Soveraigne, Oceans of offence,
Stand here opposed in my passing by,
When in a Chamber neere thy Majestie,
A jetting Jay accomplished and brave,
That well could speake, well could himselfe behave;
His Congies Courtly, his demeanour rare,
And strangely fashion'd as the Clothes he ware;
Which could each Man with complement salute,
Hee to the Wood-Cocke fram'd a speciall suite:
Who him imbracing like a brainelesse Foole,
Desir'd him sit, commanding him a Stoole
The jolly Jay thus graced by a Peere,
Plucks up his Spirits, and with a formall cheere
Breaks therewithall into most strange reports,
Of Flemmish newes, surprising Townes and Forts;
496
Spanish Armado's and Embattayling,
Protesting Method in Intelligence,
To be a thing of mightie Consequence;
And pawnes his Soule, he can devise a way,
Which put in Act, the Leaguers lose the Day,
To frame a Bridge of Bow-string o'r the Rhine,
Supplant the Alpes, and lay them smooth and plaine,
And that if the great Princes of the North,
Will with an Armie Royall set him forth,
Before the yeere expir'd that is to come,
He will with Burbon new beleaguer Rome.
Then of his knowledge in the Cabalist,
And what pertayneth to an Exorcist:
As of Philacters what their uses bee,
Homers Nepenthe how in each degree;
Each severall use in practique what it is;
How much he wants that doth these secrets misse,
And by some little Piller in that place,
To give some Window or some Chimney grace,
He to proportion presently doth runne,
And talkes of the Colossus of the Sunne:
Of Columnes the Diameters doth tell,
Even from the Base, up to the Capitell.
And to the Roofe he something doth allude,
And doth demonstrate of the Magnitude.
And what is all this from his addle pate,
But like a Starling, that is taught to prate?
And with a lisping garbe (this most rare man)
Speakes French, Dutch, Spanish, and Italian.
No Day doth passe, he doth his compasse misse,
To send to that Lord, or to visit this,
And kissing of his Claw, his Cox-combe bare,
Is come to see how their good Graces fare.
And presently he to their face reports,
Their rare perfections wondred at in Courts;
Scratching the Ideot by his itching Eares;
Heaven spit downe Vengeance, or dissolve in teares,
And send the Ibis to repulse our shame,
To drive these Locusts to whence first they came.
Woe to these Slaves whose shape the Devill tooke,
To tempt the holy Esay at his Booke.
Speakes French, Dutch, Spanish, and Italian.
No Day doth passe, he doth his compasse misse,
To send to that Lord, or to visit this,
And kissing of his Claw, his Cox-combe bare,
Is come to see how their good Graces fare.
And presently he to their face reports,
Their rare perfections wondred at in Courts;
Scratching the Ideot by his itching Eares;
Heaven spit downe Vengeance, or dissolve in teares,
497
To drive these Locusts to whence first they came.
Woe to these Slaves whose shape the Devill tooke,
To tempt the holy Esay at his Booke.
O Morall Mantuan, live thy Verses long,
Honour attend thee, and thy reverend Song!
Who seekes for truth (say'st thou) must tread the path
Of the sweet private life, which envies wrath,
Which pois'ned tongues, with vaine affected praise,
Cannot by Scorne suppresse, by Flatterie raise.
For Adulation, but if search be made
His daily Mansion, his most usuall Trade,
Is in the Monarchs Court, in Princes Hals,
Where godly Zeale he by contempt inthrals.
There calls he evill good, the good termes evill,
And makes a Saint of an incarnate Devill.
These boldly censure, and dare set at nought
The noblest wit, the most Heroike thought.
Honour attend thee, and thy reverend Song!
Who seekes for truth (say'st thou) must tread the path
Of the sweet private life, which envies wrath,
Which pois'ned tongues, with vaine affected praise,
Cannot by Scorne suppresse, by Flatterie raise.
For Adulation, but if search be made
His daily Mansion, his most usuall Trade,
Is in the Monarchs Court, in Princes Hals,
Where godly Zeale he by contempt inthrals.
There calls he evill good, the good termes evill,
And makes a Saint of an incarnate Devill.
These boldly censure, and dare set at nought
The noblest wit, the most Heroike thought.
This Carion Jay, approching to the Spring,
Where the sweet Muses wont to sit and sing,
With filthy Ordure so the same defil'd,
As they from thence are utterly exil'd.
Banisht their issue, from whose Sacred Rage,
Flowes the full Glorie of each plenteous Age,
Still with the Prophets challenging their parts,
The sweet Companions of the Lib'rall Arts.
Those rare Promethii, fetching fire from Heaven;
To whom the Functions of the Gods are given,
Raising fraile dust with their redoubled flame,
Mounted with Hymnes upon the wings of Fame;
Ordain'd by nature (Truch-men for the great)
To fire their Noble hearts with glorious heat.
You Sun-bred Ayerie, whose immortall Birth,
Beares you aloft beyond the sight of Earth,
The Heaven-tuch'd Feathers of whose sprightly wings,
Strikes (from above) the Palaces of Kings.
By how much neerer you ascend the Skye,
Doe lessen still to every mortall Eye;
Who in this time contemptfull Greatnesse late
Scornd and disgrac'd, which earst renown'd her State.
O Bastard Mindes unto this vilenesse brought,
To loath the meanes which first your Honours wrought!
But who their great Profession can protect,
That rob themselves of their owne due respect?
For they whose Minds should be exhal'd and hie,
As Free and Noble as cleere Poesie,
In the slight favour of some Lord to come,
Basely doe crouch to his attending Groome.
Immortall gift that art not bought with Gold,
That thou to Peasants should be basely sold!
Where the sweet Muses wont to sit and sing,
With filthy Ordure so the same defil'd,
As they from thence are utterly exil'd.
Banisht their issue, from whose Sacred Rage,
Flowes the full Glorie of each plenteous Age,
Still with the Prophets challenging their parts,
The sweet Companions of the Lib'rall Arts.
Those rare Promethii, fetching fire from Heaven;
To whom the Functions of the Gods are given,
Raising fraile dust with their redoubled flame,
Mounted with Hymnes upon the wings of Fame;
Ordain'd by nature (Truch-men for the great)
To fire their Noble hearts with glorious heat.
You Sun-bred Ayerie, whose immortall Birth,
Beares you aloft beyond the sight of Earth,
The Heaven-tuch'd Feathers of whose sprightly wings,
Strikes (from above) the Palaces of Kings.
By how much neerer you ascend the Skye,
Doe lessen still to every mortall Eye;
498
Scornd and disgrac'd, which earst renown'd her State.
O Bastard Mindes unto this vilenesse brought,
To loath the meanes which first your Honours wrought!
But who their great Profession can protect,
That rob themselves of their owne due respect?
For they whose Minds should be exhal'd and hie,
As Free and Noble as cleere Poesie,
In the slight favour of some Lord to come,
Basely doe crouch to his attending Groome.
Immortall gift that art not bought with Gold,
That thou to Peasants should be basely sold!
Hence as I went, I chanc'd to looke aside,
And neere at hand I happily espide
The Hedge-Sparrow, and her Compeere the Wren,
(Which simple people call our Ladies-Hen)
Out of the way, i'th'bottome of a Ditch,
Which though the place poore, yet the feeding rich,
For neere at hand grew the browne Winter-Cherrie,
The Hip, the Haw, the Slow, the Bramble-berrie;
And as together calmely they were set,
(Where oft before I might perceive they met)
Quoth the Wren, Gossip, be you rul'd by me,
And though Men say, the weaker Sex we be,
Whate'r they thinke, yet Gossip, they shall know,
That we were made for something else then show.
Few things shall passe that now in working are,
But you and I therein will have a share:
They say, the Robin, roosteth in my Nest,
Gossip, 'tis true: to you it is confest,
My Cock's a slug, and doth me little ease:
He must be quicke, his Female that will please.
And of all Birds although I be the least,
Yet few with Me in number have increast,
I thanke my Friend; but let this secret lurke,
And by my Robin, you and I must worke:
For when the Eagle shapes him for above,
As oft he useth to conferre with Jove,
To have his Pineons, in sound perfect plight,
When they should fit him for so long a flight,
He oyles his Feathers, and with wondrous skill,
From the short'st flag, (even) to the longest Quill,
Sees that each one be in due order set:
When as my fine and nimble Robinet
(Whilst each one seemes as busie as a Bee,
T'attyre their Soveraigne, and none more then hee,)
Watcheth his time, and aptly when he finds,
That the small Birds, according to their kinds,
Shrinke, when the Eagle doubled strength assumes:
As he stands proudly rowzing up his Plumes,
Nor never dreames what Treacherie intends,
Up by his trayne, the craftie Bird ascends,
And in the deepe Downe closely doth him hide:
For the great Eagle, betwixt Strength and Pride,
His poore small Bodie not so much as feeles;
And thus this Bird the King himselfe beguiles,
And in this sort transported to the Spheares,
His Soveraignes Counsailes, and Joves Secrets heares.
And when the wearyed Eagle can no more,
Fresh from his backe he into Heaven doth sore;
And comming thence, doth all to me relate,
And by this meanes we two will rule the State.
King, looke to these, that they doe not o'r-heare thee,
This craftie Bird I doubt is but too neere thee.
And neere at hand I happily espide
The Hedge-Sparrow, and her Compeere the Wren,
(Which simple people call our Ladies-Hen)
Out of the way, i'th'bottome of a Ditch,
Which though the place poore, yet the feeding rich,
For neere at hand grew the browne Winter-Cherrie,
The Hip, the Haw, the Slow, the Bramble-berrie;
And as together calmely they were set,
(Where oft before I might perceive they met)
Quoth the Wren, Gossip, be you rul'd by me,
And though Men say, the weaker Sex we be,
Whate'r they thinke, yet Gossip, they shall know,
That we were made for something else then show.
Few things shall passe that now in working are,
But you and I therein will have a share:
They say, the Robin, roosteth in my Nest,
Gossip, 'tis true: to you it is confest,
My Cock's a slug, and doth me little ease:
He must be quicke, his Female that will please.
And of all Birds although I be the least,
Yet few with Me in number have increast,
I thanke my Friend; but let this secret lurke,
And by my Robin, you and I must worke:
For when the Eagle shapes him for above,
As oft he useth to conferre with Jove,
499
When they should fit him for so long a flight,
He oyles his Feathers, and with wondrous skill,
From the short'st flag, (even) to the longest Quill,
Sees that each one be in due order set:
When as my fine and nimble Robinet
(Whilst each one seemes as busie as a Bee,
T'attyre their Soveraigne, and none more then hee,)
Watcheth his time, and aptly when he finds,
That the small Birds, according to their kinds,
Shrinke, when the Eagle doubled strength assumes:
As he stands proudly rowzing up his Plumes,
Nor never dreames what Treacherie intends,
Up by his trayne, the craftie Bird ascends,
And in the deepe Downe closely doth him hide:
For the great Eagle, betwixt Strength and Pride,
His poore small Bodie not so much as feeles;
And thus this Bird the King himselfe beguiles,
And in this sort transported to the Spheares,
His Soveraignes Counsailes, and Joves Secrets heares.
And when the wearyed Eagle can no more,
Fresh from his backe he into Heaven doth sore;
And comming thence, doth all to me relate,
And by this meanes we two will rule the State.
King, looke to these, that they doe not o'r-heare thee,
This craftie Bird I doubt is but too neere thee.
And thus even cloy'd with Businesse of the Court,
To neighbour Groves inviting my resort,
Where I suppos'd the solitarie Owle
Might live secure, unseene of any Fowle;
Loe, in a Valley peopled thicke with Trees,
Where the soft day continuall Evening sees,
Where, in the moyst and melancholy shade,
The Grasse growes ranke, but yeelds a bitter Blade,
I found a poore Crane sitting all alone,
That from his brest sent many a throbbing grone;
Groveling he lay, that sometime stood upright;
Maim'd of his joynts in many a doubtfull fight:
His Ashie Coate that bore a glosse so faire,
So often kiss'd of the enamoured Ayre;
Worne all to Rags, and fretted so with rust,
That with his feet he trod it in the dust:
And wanting strength to beare him to the Springs,
The Spiders wove their Webs even in his wings:
And in his traine their filmie netting cast,
He eat not Wormes, Wormes eat on him so fast.
His wakefull eyes, that in his Foes despight,
Had watch'd the walls in many a Winters Night,
And never wink'd, nor from their object fled,
When Heavens dread thunder rattled o'r his head
Now covered over with dimme cloudie kels,
And shrunken up into their slimy shels.
Poore Bird that striving to bemone thy plight,
I cannot doe thy miseries their right;
Perceiving well he found me where I stood,
And he alone thus poorely in the Wood:
To him I stept, desiring him to show
The cause of his calamitie and woe.
Nights-Bird (quoth he) what mak'st thou in this place,
To view my wretched miserable case?
Ill Orators are aged men at Armes,
That wont to wreake, and not bewaile their harmes:
And repetition where there wants reliefe,
In less'ning sorrow, but redoubleth griefe.
Seven sundrie Battailes serv'd I in the field,
Against the Pigmies, in whose battered shield,
My prowesse stands apparantly exprest;
Besides the skars upon my manly brest:
Along the Mid-land Coasts my Troupes I led,
And Afrikes Pride with feare astonished;
And maym'd I was of this decrepit wing,
When as the Fowle from the Propontike Spring,
Fild all th'Egean with their stemming Ores,
And made the Iles even tremble from the shores.
I saw when from the Adriatike Seas;
The crosse-adoring Fowles to Europ's praise,
Before Lepanto, and Moræa fought,
Where Heaven by Wind, Earths wonder strangely wrought,
Wearie at length, and trusting to my worth,
I tooke my flight into the happie North:
Where nobly bred, as I was well ally'd,
I hop'd to have my fortune there supply'd:
But there arriv'd, disgrace was all my gaine,
Experience scorn'd of every scurvie Swaine.
Other had got, for which I long did serve.
Still fed with words, whilst I with wants did starve.
Having small meanes, but yet a mightie heart,
How ere in Fame, not honor'd for desert,
That small I had, I forced was to gage,
To cure my wounds, and to sustaine mine Age;
Whilst those that scarce did ere behold a foe,
Exult and triumph in my over-throw.
And seeing in vaine with miserie I strove,
Retyr'd me to this solitarie Grove;
Where in despaire (even lothing of my breath)
I long to dwell in the cold armes of Death.
Heere sanke downe in a swound and could no more,
And I returne from whence I came before.
To neighbour Groves inviting my resort,
Where I suppos'd the solitarie Owle
Might live secure, unseene of any Fowle;
Loe, in a Valley peopled thicke with Trees,
Where the soft day continuall Evening sees,
Where, in the moyst and melancholy shade,
The Grasse growes ranke, but yeelds a bitter Blade,
I found a poore Crane sitting all alone,
That from his brest sent many a throbbing grone;
Groveling he lay, that sometime stood upright;
Maim'd of his joynts in many a doubtfull fight:
500
So often kiss'd of the enamoured Ayre;
Worne all to Rags, and fretted so with rust,
That with his feet he trod it in the dust:
And wanting strength to beare him to the Springs,
The Spiders wove their Webs even in his wings:
And in his traine their filmie netting cast,
He eat not Wormes, Wormes eat on him so fast.
His wakefull eyes, that in his Foes despight,
Had watch'd the walls in many a Winters Night,
And never wink'd, nor from their object fled,
When Heavens dread thunder rattled o'r his head
Now covered over with dimme cloudie kels,
And shrunken up into their slimy shels.
Poore Bird that striving to bemone thy plight,
I cannot doe thy miseries their right;
Perceiving well he found me where I stood,
And he alone thus poorely in the Wood:
To him I stept, desiring him to show
The cause of his calamitie and woe.
Nights-Bird (quoth he) what mak'st thou in this place,
To view my wretched miserable case?
Ill Orators are aged men at Armes,
That wont to wreake, and not bewaile their harmes:
And repetition where there wants reliefe,
In less'ning sorrow, but redoubleth griefe.
Seven sundrie Battailes serv'd I in the field,
Against the Pigmies, in whose battered shield,
My prowesse stands apparantly exprest;
Besides the skars upon my manly brest:
Along the Mid-land Coasts my Troupes I led,
And Afrikes Pride with feare astonished;
And maym'd I was of this decrepit wing,
When as the Fowle from the Propontike Spring,
Fild all th'Egean with their stemming Ores,
And made the Iles even tremble from the shores.
I saw when from the Adriatike Seas;
The crosse-adoring Fowles to Europ's praise,
501
Where Heaven by Wind, Earths wonder strangely wrought,
Wearie at length, and trusting to my worth,
I tooke my flight into the happie North:
Where nobly bred, as I was well ally'd,
I hop'd to have my fortune there supply'd:
But there arriv'd, disgrace was all my gaine,
Experience scorn'd of every scurvie Swaine.
Other had got, for which I long did serve.
Still fed with words, whilst I with wants did starve.
Having small meanes, but yet a mightie heart,
How ere in Fame, not honor'd for desert,
That small I had, I forced was to gage,
To cure my wounds, and to sustaine mine Age;
Whilst those that scarce did ere behold a foe,
Exult and triumph in my over-throw.
And seeing in vaine with miserie I strove,
Retyr'd me to this solitarie Grove;
Where in despaire (even lothing of my breath)
I long to dwell in the cold armes of Death.
Heere sanke downe in a swound and could no more,
And I returne from whence I came before.
Where by the way the Countrie Rooke deplor'd,
The grip and hunger of his ravenous Lord.
The cruell Castrell, which with Devillish Clawes
Scratcheth out of the miserable Jawes
Of the poore Tenant, to his Ruine bent,
Raising new Fines, redoubling ancient Rent;
And by th'inclosure of old Common Land,
Rackes the deare sweat from his laborious hand,
Whilst he that digs for breath out of the stones,
Cracks his stiffe Sinewes, and consumes his Bones;
Yet forc'd to reape continually with Strife,
Snarling Contention feeding on his Life.
Yet hoping Fortune bett'red by his Heires,
They are content to part with what is theirs;
Lab'ring to keepe him in his quiet State,
When Envie doth his gath'red Mannors threat:
And being favoured of some higher Peere,
By whom their Land-Lord keepes them still in feare,
They by their Clownish Industrie and Art,
Soone to the Court reduce him from the Cart,
With their provision and defray his charge,
Whilst with his Graine he ballasts many a Barge,
And so his gripple Avarice he serve,
What recks this ranke Hind, if his Countrie starve?
“Hell on the Wealth that's purchased with shame,
Gold in the Trunke, and in the Grave Defame:
Yet his Clawes blunt, and when he can no more,
The needie Rooke is turn'd out of the doore:
And lastly doth his wretchednesse bewayle,
A Bond-slave to the miserable Jayle.
The grip and hunger of his ravenous Lord.
The cruell Castrell, which with Devillish Clawes
Scratcheth out of the miserable Jawes
Of the poore Tenant, to his Ruine bent,
Raising new Fines, redoubling ancient Rent;
And by th'inclosure of old Common Land,
Rackes the deare sweat from his laborious hand,
Whilst he that digs for breath out of the stones,
Cracks his stiffe Sinewes, and consumes his Bones;
Yet forc'd to reape continually with Strife,
Snarling Contention feeding on his Life.
Yet hoping Fortune bett'red by his Heires,
They are content to part with what is theirs;
Lab'ring to keepe him in his quiet State,
When Envie doth his gath'red Mannors threat:
502
By whom their Land-Lord keepes them still in feare,
They by their Clownish Industrie and Art,
Soone to the Court reduce him from the Cart,
With their provision and defray his charge,
Whilst with his Graine he ballasts many a Barge,
And so his gripple Avarice he serve,
What recks this ranke Hind, if his Countrie starve?
“Hell on the Wealth that's purchased with shame,
Gold in the Trunke, and in the Grave Defame:
Yet his Clawes blunt, and when he can no more,
The needie Rooke is turn'd out of the doore:
And lastly doth his wretchednesse bewayle,
A Bond-slave to the miserable Jayle.
Thus wearied with the sight of worldly Crimes,
The wane of Kingdomes, and the change of times;
I tooke my selfe, by searching to espy,
What sinnes in secret did in Cities lye:
For there I deem'd, where Law had chiefest force,
Strongly to limit every lewder course,
Things turn'd to Nature, and disdain'd Excesse,
That plaguie Foe to Humane Happinesse.
And as I went (with busie search about)
Casting by cunning how to finde them out,
I found the Fesant that the Hawke doth feare,
Seeking for safetie bred his Ayry there;
Yet is accus'd through close informing Hate,
By lawlesse lending to offend the State.
Who being Rich, and loving Coyne and ease,
Still buildeth low, for feare he should displease.
Yet the Bald-Buzzard being pointed Judge,
To this base, muddie, miserable Drudge:
A paire of young ones taketh from his Nest,
And leaves this fearefull Recreant the rest,
Who gives him thankes his Goodnesse would so doe,
That might take th'Ayrie, and the old one too.
He lived best, that most liv'd out of sight:
I dare not say, the Birds were all upright;
For some had golden Beakes, but brazen Clawes,
That held the Guildes to minister their Lawes:
The wane of Kingdomes, and the change of times;
I tooke my selfe, by searching to espy,
What sinnes in secret did in Cities lye:
For there I deem'd, where Law had chiefest force,
Strongly to limit every lewder course,
Things turn'd to Nature, and disdain'd Excesse,
That plaguie Foe to Humane Happinesse.
And as I went (with busie search about)
Casting by cunning how to finde them out,
I found the Fesant that the Hawke doth feare,
Seeking for safetie bred his Ayry there;
Yet is accus'd through close informing Hate,
By lawlesse lending to offend the State.
Who being Rich, and loving Coyne and ease,
Still buildeth low, for feare he should displease.
Yet the Bald-Buzzard being pointed Judge,
To this base, muddie, miserable Drudge:
A paire of young ones taketh from his Nest,
And leaves this fearefull Recreant the rest,
Who gives him thankes his Goodnesse would so doe,
That might take th'Ayrie, and the old one too.
He lived best, that most liv'd out of sight:
I dare not say, the Birds were all upright;
503
That held the Guildes to minister their Lawes:
The Castrell, for possession of his Heire,
Is by the Ring-tayle offred wondrous faire,
To have a match betwixt their goodly Breed,
T'increase their Lands, and raise their happy Seed.
But the coy Castrell turnes it to a mocke,
And scornes to match in his Ignoble Stocke,
For which the Ring-tayle by a secret Plot,
Subornes the Starling, which hath closely got,
To be the Broker, slily to seduce
The Castrels Heire, by giving thriftlesse use,
And in strong Statutes to inthrall him so,
To lime him sure which way so e'r he goe.
For this young Fowle (drawne from his Fathers eye)
Will with the fond World swimme in Vanitie,
The subtill Ring-tayle never thus doth leave,
Till he the Castrell cunningly deceive,
And catch his young one in the Cities snare,
So gets his Mannors e'r he be aware.
'Mongst which the Daw (by giving of a Bribe)
Became a Clerke amongst the learned Tribe;
That being a Bankrout, a dishonest Detter,
Can get his living onely by the Letter,
Whilst Arts goe beg, and in a servile Weed,
Are made the Slaves to Penurie and Need.
Is by the Ring-tayle offred wondrous faire,
To have a match betwixt their goodly Breed,
T'increase their Lands, and raise their happy Seed.
But the coy Castrell turnes it to a mocke,
And scornes to match in his Ignoble Stocke,
For which the Ring-tayle by a secret Plot,
Subornes the Starling, which hath closely got,
To be the Broker, slily to seduce
The Castrels Heire, by giving thriftlesse use,
And in strong Statutes to inthrall him so,
To lime him sure which way so e'r he goe.
For this young Fowle (drawne from his Fathers eye)
Will with the fond World swimme in Vanitie,
The subtill Ring-tayle never thus doth leave,
Till he the Castrell cunningly deceive,
And catch his young one in the Cities snare,
So gets his Mannors e'r he be aware.
'Mongst which the Daw (by giving of a Bribe)
Became a Clerke amongst the learned Tribe;
That being a Bankrout, a dishonest Detter,
Can get his living onely by the Letter,
Whilst Arts goe beg, and in a servile Weed,
Are made the Slaves to Penurie and Need.
The Goose exiled, humbly doth appeale
To all the Birds, professing Faith and Zeale.
And though he proveth by the Romane Booke,
What care to keepe the Capitoll he tooke;
Yet is not heard: The Dove without a Gall,
Is left forsaken, and contemn'd of all.
There growes such diffrence and such strange Confusions,
Twixt old Decrees, and later Institutions:
Yet being inspir'd, desisteth not to speake,
To edifie the conscience that is weake,
And by approoved Arguments of's owne,
By Scriptures, Fathers, and great Writers knowne,
Discovereth their abominable Trade;
So that the Storke their umpire being made,
Judgeth, the Daw should from the Church be driven,
To prate in Corners, and to preach by Even.
And since his Art and Cunning was so scant,
To have no Patron but the Ignorant;
And by his Doctrine onely teaching Fooles,
To be exilde, and hiss'd out of the Schooles.
To all the Birds, professing Faith and Zeale.
And though he proveth by the Romane Booke,
What care to keepe the Capitoll he tooke;
Yet is not heard: The Dove without a Gall,
Is left forsaken, and contemn'd of all.
There growes such diffrence and such strange Confusions,
Twixt old Decrees, and later Institutions:
Yet being inspir'd, desisteth not to speake,
To edifie the conscience that is weake,
And by approoved Arguments of's owne,
By Scriptures, Fathers, and great Writers knowne,
504
So that the Storke their umpire being made,
Judgeth, the Daw should from the Church be driven,
To prate in Corners, and to preach by Even.
And since his Art and Cunning was so scant,
To have no Patron but the Ignorant;
And by his Doctrine onely teaching Fooles,
To be exilde, and hiss'd out of the Schooles.
Hence like the seed Thebes-builder Cadmus threw,
More armed Mischiefes suddenly up grew:
The Bitter brings his Action 'gainst the Quaile,
And on th'arrest allowes him hardly Baile;
Because he durst presume amongst the Reeds,
To leave his Lemmon, where his Female breeds.
And Mistris Titmouse a neate merrie Dame,
With her Friend Wag-tayle, one of speciall name,
Were su'd by th'Cuckow, in his proper wrong,
For him accusing with their sland'rous tongue,
Who to the Barre his Advocate doth bring,
That hath by rote the Acts of many a King.
The Lawes, the Statutes, and Decrees assignde,
Custome so old, as almost out of Minde.
A Day of hearing, good my Lord, cries he,
For Master Cuckow that retayneth me;
Whom the lewd Wag-tayle basely hath abus'd
In so vile termes, as cannot be excus'd:
The parties likewise present here in Court,
And 'tis is a Case that well deserves report:
For which a Jurie's summoned with speed,
And to the triall presently proceed.
The Brain-bald Coot a formall witlesse Asse,
Must now, the Fore-man on this matter passe:
The Sottish Dott'rill, ignorant and dull;
And next to him the Maw-cram'd gluttonous Gull.
The Lecherous Mallard, call'd unto the Booke,
The squealing Lapwing, the ridiculous Rooke,
The witlesse Wood-cocke, and his Neighbour Snite,
That will be hyr'd to passe on every Rite,
With all the rest empannelled to waite:
Which when the Jurie lastly was complete,
Call'd to the Barre, admitted and allow'd:
Upstart the Peacocke, insolent and proud;
Of goodly stature and of gracious port,
In presence of the Honourable Court:
And for the Plaintiffe learnedly began.
More armed Mischiefes suddenly up grew:
The Bitter brings his Action 'gainst the Quaile,
And on th'arrest allowes him hardly Baile;
Because he durst presume amongst the Reeds,
To leave his Lemmon, where his Female breeds.
And Mistris Titmouse a neate merrie Dame,
With her Friend Wag-tayle, one of speciall name,
Were su'd by th'Cuckow, in his proper wrong,
For him accusing with their sland'rous tongue,
Who to the Barre his Advocate doth bring,
That hath by rote the Acts of many a King.
The Lawes, the Statutes, and Decrees assignde,
Custome so old, as almost out of Minde.
A Day of hearing, good my Lord, cries he,
For Master Cuckow that retayneth me;
Whom the lewd Wag-tayle basely hath abus'd
In so vile termes, as cannot be excus'd:
The parties likewise present here in Court,
And 'tis is a Case that well deserves report:
For which a Jurie's summoned with speed,
And to the triall presently proceed.
The Brain-bald Coot a formall witlesse Asse,
Must now, the Fore-man on this matter passe:
The Sottish Dott'rill, ignorant and dull;
And next to him the Maw-cram'd gluttonous Gull.
The Lecherous Mallard, call'd unto the Booke,
The squealing Lapwing, the ridiculous Rooke,
The witlesse Wood-cocke, and his Neighbour Snite,
That will be hyr'd to passe on every Rite,
505
Which when the Jurie lastly was complete,
Call'd to the Barre, admitted and allow'd:
Upstart the Peacocke, insolent and proud;
Of goodly stature and of gracious port,
In presence of the Honourable Court:
And for the Plaintiffe learnedly began.
My Lord (saith he) was never worthy man,
So nobly bred, and of so high descent,
Of so faire lively-hood, and so large a rent,
As is the Cuckow, so abus'd hereby,
Nor yet so sland'red, as my Plea shall try:
First, for the worth and honour of his Name,
That you may better censure his defame;
From mightie Birds descended every way,
And by his Birth, the Messenger to May;
His House still loyall, and his Coat as faire,
His Fathers Tunes he never did impaire.
His name and nature doe so well agree,
As shews his Bloud repurifide to bee.
In fruitfull Sparta, it is since now long,
That famous Greece tooke notice of his wrong,
When for her wanton and unchaste desire,
A thousand Ships stuft with revengefull fire,
To Tenedos the proud Ægean lades,
Whence sprang those high immortall Illiades.
And since the Romans from the Asian Broyles,
Return'd with Conquest and victorious Spoyles,
The Cuci heere continually have beene,
As by their ancient Evidence is seene,
Of Consull Cuccus, from whose mighty Name,
These living Cuccos lineally came.
To him, the Ancients, Temples did erect,
Which with great Pompe and Ornament were deckt.
Th'Italians call him Becco (of a Nod)
With all the Reverence that belongs a God.
What though in love supposed to be us'd,
What is his Vertue need not be excus'd?
The Wiseman tels (if Nature be our Guide)
In following her, we seldome slip aside.
And in this Bird who can her power denie,
If Nature fram'd him to Communitie?
Then wisely thus considering his Profession,
You Reverend Judges of this lawfull Session:
As you are Patrones of the righteous cause,
Vouchsafe my Clyent Judgement. Heere doth pause.
So nobly bred, and of so high descent,
Of so faire lively-hood, and so large a rent,
As is the Cuckow, so abus'd hereby,
Nor yet so sland'red, as my Plea shall try:
First, for the worth and honour of his Name,
That you may better censure his defame;
From mightie Birds descended every way,
And by his Birth, the Messenger to May;
His House still loyall, and his Coat as faire,
His Fathers Tunes he never did impaire.
His name and nature doe so well agree,
As shews his Bloud repurifide to bee.
In fruitfull Sparta, it is since now long,
That famous Greece tooke notice of his wrong,
When for her wanton and unchaste desire,
A thousand Ships stuft with revengefull fire,
To Tenedos the proud Ægean lades,
Whence sprang those high immortall Illiades.
And since the Romans from the Asian Broyles,
Return'd with Conquest and victorious Spoyles,
The Cuci heere continually have beene,
As by their ancient Evidence is seene,
Of Consull Cuccus, from whose mighty Name,
These living Cuccos lineally came.
To him, the Ancients, Temples did erect,
Which with great Pompe and Ornament were deckt.
Th'Italians call him Becco (of a Nod)
With all the Reverence that belongs a God.
What though in love supposed to be us'd,
What is his Vertue need not be excus'd?
506
In following her, we seldome slip aside.
And in this Bird who can her power denie,
If Nature fram'd him to Communitie?
Then wisely thus considering his Profession,
You Reverend Judges of this lawfull Session:
As you are Patrones of the righteous cause,
Vouchsafe my Clyent Judgement. Heere doth pause.
Scarce could the Peacocke his conclusion make,
When straight his turne the Turkie-cocke doth take,
A learned Lawyer (worthy of his Gowne)
Of reputation both in Court and Towne:
And to the Bench for Audience having cry'd,
Thus to the Peacocke learnedly reply'd:
When straight his turne the Turkie-cocke doth take,
A learned Lawyer (worthy of his Gowne)
Of reputation both in Court and Towne:
And to the Bench for Audience having cry'd,
Thus to the Peacocke learnedly reply'd:
Grave Reverend Fathers of the Law (he said)
The matter that our Adversaries plead,
Is vaine and idle; we the point inforce
Against the Cuckow and his lawlesse course.
The Peacocke here a cunning speech hath made,
To helpe his Clyent and uphold his Trade;
But strip this Maske that doth conceale the Cause,
Examine each particular and Clause
'Gainst proofe so poore, so indigent to Truth,
The Bastard Cuckow bringing from his Youth:
First laid and hatch'd up in anothers Nest,
Such vilenesse raign'd in his base Parents brest,
Who since that time they never sought for shame,
Nor but their Vice he dares for's Birth-right clayme:
The Hedge-Sparrow, this wicked Bird that bred,
That him so long and diligently fed,
(By her kind tendance) getting strength and power,
His carefull Nurse doth cruelly devoure:
Base as his Birth, so baser is his Trade,
And to the World a By-word now is made:
No Nation names the Cuckow but in scorne,
And no Man heares him, but he feares the Horne:
No Month regards him but lascivious May,
Wherein whil'st Youth is dallying with the Day;
His Song still tends to Vanitie and Lust,
Amorous deceits, Poligamies unjust.
The matter that our Adversaries plead,
Is vaine and idle; we the point inforce
Against the Cuckow and his lawlesse course.
The Peacocke here a cunning speech hath made,
To helpe his Clyent and uphold his Trade;
But strip this Maske that doth conceale the Cause,
Examine each particular and Clause
'Gainst proofe so poore, so indigent to Truth,
The Bastard Cuckow bringing from his Youth:
First laid and hatch'd up in anothers Nest,
Such vilenesse raign'd in his base Parents brest,
Who since that time they never sought for shame,
Nor but their Vice he dares for's Birth-right clayme:
The Hedge-Sparrow, this wicked Bird that bred,
That him so long and diligently fed,
(By her kind tendance) getting strength and power,
His carefull Nurse doth cruelly devoure:
Base as his Birth, so baser is his Trade,
And to the World a By-word now is made:
No Nation names the Cuckow but in scorne,
And no Man heares him, but he feares the Horne:
No Month regards him but lascivious May,
Wherein whil'st Youth is dallying with the Day;
507
Amorous deceits, Poligamies unjust.
But to cut off these tedious Allegations,
The Law commands, these publike defamations
Be straightly punish'd in the Noblest Men.
Why should you spare the cursed Cuckow then?
Who all his Life to lewdnesse being bent,
Rightly deserves the publik'st punishment?
Then, gentle Jurors, good Men, and Elect,
As you your safeties carefully respect,
If Loves sweet Musike and his blissefull cheere,
E'r touch'd your Hearts, or mollifi'd your Eare;
Tender the case, and evermore the wed
Shall prayse your Conscience both at Boord and Bed.
Thus said, he ceas'd, the Jurors stept aside,
Wisely consulting, warily they tride
The circumstance of every secret Sin;
Thus they return'd and brought their Verdict in:
The Law commands, these publike defamations
Be straightly punish'd in the Noblest Men.
Why should you spare the cursed Cuckow then?
Who all his Life to lewdnesse being bent,
Rightly deserves the publik'st punishment?
Then, gentle Jurors, good Men, and Elect,
As you your safeties carefully respect,
If Loves sweet Musike and his blissefull cheere,
E'r touch'd your Hearts, or mollifi'd your Eare;
Tender the case, and evermore the wed
Shall prayse your Conscience both at Boord and Bed.
Thus said, he ceas'd, the Jurors stept aside,
Wisely consulting, warily they tride
The circumstance of every secret Sin;
Thus they return'd and brought their Verdict in:
Cast is the Cuckow, guilty of the Deed,
And for a Fine, for his deserved meed,
Allowes to Mistris Titmouse for her Charge,
That shee shall after have her Tayle at large:
And when shee Revells, as shee did before,
T'exclude the Cuckow freely out of Dore:
And such Offenders as they could present,
Likewise adjudg'd deserved punishment.
The Ring-Dove, plagu'd with Maggots in the Maw,
The Woodcocke gets the swelling of the Craw.
The Crow, with dropsie (whil'st yet living) rots:
The Quaile, a Leaper fill'd with lothsome Spots.
The Buzzard, of the Lethargie is sicke,
The Kyte, with Fevers falleth Lunaticke.
The Epilepsy grew upon the Jay,
And of a sweat the Bunting drops away.
And for a Fine, for his deserved meed,
Allowes to Mistris Titmouse for her Charge,
That shee shall after have her Tayle at large:
And when shee Revells, as shee did before,
T'exclude the Cuckow freely out of Dore:
And such Offenders as they could present,
Likewise adjudg'd deserved punishment.
The Ring-Dove, plagu'd with Maggots in the Maw,
The Woodcocke gets the swelling of the Craw.
The Crow, with dropsie (whil'st yet living) rots:
The Quaile, a Leaper fill'd with lothsome Spots.
The Buzzard, of the Lethargie is sicke,
The Kyte, with Fevers falleth Lunaticke.
The Epilepsy grew upon the Jay,
And of a sweat the Bunting drops away.
But how about my fantasie it brought;
Now know not I: but suddenly me thought,
The Princely Eagle out of sight was gone,
And left the wise and honest Bird alone,
To governe things, both for his proper heale,
And for the great good of the publique Weale.
When more the Owle that with a vigilant Eye,
All these Demensions perfectly could try,
Fore-saw the perill threatned unto all,
Apt by their loose credulitie to fall,
And whose prevention if he did fore-slow,
Their utter spoyle immediately should grow.
My Friends (quoth he) looke warily about,
Many the dangers which you are to doubt;
This gallant Oke wherein so oft you play,
Perhaps (at length) your safetie may betray.
And though his shade be delicate and sweet,
His Trunke beares Lyme that may intrap your Feet.
If, fearing what is requisite and fit,
You like my Judgement, and allow my Wit;
Yours is the good: but if you fondly deeme,
Things be within, as outwardly they seeme;
Head-long runne on, and fall into the Snare,
And say, A Friend once warn'd you to beware.
Thus spake the Owle, whose talke could not be heard.
“So little, Fooles good counsell doe regard.
But thinking, Frensie him his Wits beguilde,
The honest Bird despightfully revilde.
But marke their end, who set advice at nought,
“Fooles still too deare have sound Experience bought;
The Husband-man surveying of his Ground,
'Mongst all the Trees this Oke had quickly found:
And by all signes and likelyhood of Trade,
The Birds therein their nightly roosting made.
And by the Lyme that issued from the Tree,
They all intangled easily might bee.
Taking the same, he spreads it on the sprayes,
And through the Thicket closely creeps his wayes.
Now know not I: but suddenly me thought,
The Princely Eagle out of sight was gone,
And left the wise and honest Bird alone,
508
And for the great good of the publique Weale.
When more the Owle that with a vigilant Eye,
All these Demensions perfectly could try,
Fore-saw the perill threatned unto all,
Apt by their loose credulitie to fall,
And whose prevention if he did fore-slow,
Their utter spoyle immediately should grow.
My Friends (quoth he) looke warily about,
Many the dangers which you are to doubt;
This gallant Oke wherein so oft you play,
Perhaps (at length) your safetie may betray.
And though his shade be delicate and sweet,
His Trunke beares Lyme that may intrap your Feet.
If, fearing what is requisite and fit,
You like my Judgement, and allow my Wit;
Yours is the good: but if you fondly deeme,
Things be within, as outwardly they seeme;
Head-long runne on, and fall into the Snare,
And say, A Friend once warn'd you to beware.
Thus spake the Owle, whose talke could not be heard.
“So little, Fooles good counsell doe regard.
But thinking, Frensie him his Wits beguilde,
The honest Bird despightfully revilde.
But marke their end, who set advice at nought,
“Fooles still too deare have sound Experience bought;
The Husband-man surveying of his Ground,
'Mongst all the Trees this Oke had quickly found:
And by all signes and likelyhood of Trade,
The Birds therein their nightly roosting made.
And by the Lyme that issued from the Tree,
They all intangled easily might bee.
Taking the same, he spreads it on the sprayes,
And through the Thicket closely creeps his wayes.
When the sad Arndern shutting in the Light,
Wan-sighted Cynthia (Lady of the Night)
Proudly ascending the Ætheriall State,
Whence the bright Phœbus but dismounted late,
The dull-ey'd Evening his moist Vapours threw,
Strewing the still Earth with sweet showres of Dew;
When every Bird replenished with Food,
Came on his stretch't Wings lively from the Wood,
And on each small Branch of this large-limb'd Oke,
Their pretty Lodgings carelesly they tooke,
No ill suspecting, fondly unawares,
Were all intangled in the Fowlers Snares.
Whose mournefull Chirping, and their Chattering cryes,
Incites the Owle before his houre to rise.
And hearing from his melancholy Seate,
The Birds themselves thus wofully to beate,
(The Deed discovered with the Mornings Light)
Flew from his Pearch: though grieved at the sight,
Yet with a Smile, his Wisedome that became,
Which mock'd their folly, though bemoan'd their shame,
Quoth he, you foolish Burgers of the Field,
That in contempt my counsailes lewdly held,
That, whereat late you did but laugh and jeere,
Now to your ruine plainly doth appeere,
The greatest thing you lightly are to lose,
Onely your Plumes that Fortune can dispose.
“'Tis yet a comfort in the depth of smart;
“Envy but seyzeth on the outward part.
“But present perill in a thing of price,
“Rather craves Action, then doth stay Advice.
Therefore to helpe you, Ile my power assay:
Wherewith his Wing doth presently display,
And with his Clawes, the Birds of every kind
Plucks from the Lime, which left their Plumes behind.
The little Robin Featherlesse and free,
Regreets the Owle with many a Cap and Knee.
The warbling Mavis mirthfull Peans sung,
The Nightingale with her melodious Tongue,
Gave him such Musike (to declare their thanks)
That Springs and Rivers danc'd above their Banks:
That (with the repercussion of the Aire)
Shooke the great Eagle sitting in his Chaire:
Which from the Mountayne (with a Radiant Eye)
Brav'd the bright Cressit of the Glorious Skie;
Mooving his Princely Majestie to see,
Whence this applause so suddenly should bee,
Whose sinewed Wings (in their resistlesse course)
Beat the thin Ayre, with such a violent force,
That the light Birds dropt head-long from the Skyes,
The Rocks and Forrests trembling with the noyse,
Somewhat amaz'd at this un-usuall sight,
To see his People in this pitious plight:
His Soveraignes Eare doth presently addresse,
Willing to heare the Cause of their distresse:
To whom the poore Owle (his Obedience done)
Thus to his Liege Lord, reverently begun:
Wan-sighted Cynthia (Lady of the Night)
Proudly ascending the Ætheriall State,
Whence the bright Phœbus but dismounted late,
509
Strewing the still Earth with sweet showres of Dew;
When every Bird replenished with Food,
Came on his stretch't Wings lively from the Wood,
And on each small Branch of this large-limb'd Oke,
Their pretty Lodgings carelesly they tooke,
No ill suspecting, fondly unawares,
Were all intangled in the Fowlers Snares.
Whose mournefull Chirping, and their Chattering cryes,
Incites the Owle before his houre to rise.
And hearing from his melancholy Seate,
The Birds themselves thus wofully to beate,
(The Deed discovered with the Mornings Light)
Flew from his Pearch: though grieved at the sight,
Yet with a Smile, his Wisedome that became,
Which mock'd their folly, though bemoan'd their shame,
Quoth he, you foolish Burgers of the Field,
That in contempt my counsailes lewdly held,
That, whereat late you did but laugh and jeere,
Now to your ruine plainly doth appeere,
The greatest thing you lightly are to lose,
Onely your Plumes that Fortune can dispose.
“'Tis yet a comfort in the depth of smart;
“Envy but seyzeth on the outward part.
“But present perill in a thing of price,
“Rather craves Action, then doth stay Advice.
Therefore to helpe you, Ile my power assay:
Wherewith his Wing doth presently display,
And with his Clawes, the Birds of every kind
Plucks from the Lime, which left their Plumes behind.
The little Robin Featherlesse and free,
Regreets the Owle with many a Cap and Knee.
The warbling Mavis mirthfull Peans sung,
The Nightingale with her melodious Tongue,
Gave him such Musike (to declare their thanks)
That Springs and Rivers danc'd above their Banks:
That (with the repercussion of the Aire)
Shooke the great Eagle sitting in his Chaire:
510
Brav'd the bright Cressit of the Glorious Skie;
Mooving his Princely Majestie to see,
Whence this applause so suddenly should bee,
Whose sinewed Wings (in their resistlesse course)
Beat the thin Ayre, with such a violent force,
That the light Birds dropt head-long from the Skyes,
The Rocks and Forrests trembling with the noyse,
Somewhat amaz'd at this un-usuall sight,
To see his People in this pitious plight:
His Soveraignes Eare doth presently addresse,
Willing to heare the Cause of their distresse:
To whom the poore Owle (his Obedience done)
Thus to his Liege Lord, reverently begun:
Monarch of all that beate the Ayre with Wings,
Thou Bird of Jove, beloved amongst Kings:
Here stands an Oke well timbred, largely spred,
That many a day hath borne his curled Head,
Above his Fellowes dwelling farre and neere,
That in the Forrest never found his Peere;
Whose Roote well fastned in the fruitfull Ground,
His Barke so lovely and his Heart so sound,
(Through his great Wealth) grew insolent and proud,
Because the Birds that in his Boughs did shrowd,
To his high prayse continually did sing,
And kept their Vigils to th'enamoured Spring.
The Virgin-Huntresse sworne to Dian's Bow,
Here in this shade her Quarries did bestow,
And for their Nymphals, building amorous Bowers,
Oft drest this Tree with Anadems of flowers;
And Flora chose her Nurcery here to shield,
Her tender Buds the Infants of the Field.
By which, this Tree grew arrogant in time,
And in his ranke Sap bred a lothsome Slime,
Whose Nature and vile Qualitie is such,
Strongly to hold what ever it doth tuch;
And not content to minister this meane,
Which in short time might have undone us cleane;
But even his Boughs the Birds have honoured so,
He hath imploy'd unto their generall wo,
That when thy Subjects dreading no deceit,
Came to this Tree, as to their safe retreit,
They were betray'd, and he that sped the best,
Hardly escap't, with Feathers at the least.
Those that I could, as I had power and might,
Though with much payne, I lastly did acquight.
The rest, whose freedome doth exceed my reach,
O King of Birds, I humbly thee beseech
In mercy, let thy mightinesse purvay,
To ransome from this eminent Decay.
Thou Bird of Jove, beloved amongst Kings:
Here stands an Oke well timbred, largely spred,
That many a day hath borne his curled Head,
Above his Fellowes dwelling farre and neere,
That in the Forrest never found his Peere;
Whose Roote well fastned in the fruitfull Ground,
His Barke so lovely and his Heart so sound,
(Through his great Wealth) grew insolent and proud,
Because the Birds that in his Boughs did shrowd,
To his high prayse continually did sing,
And kept their Vigils to th'enamoured Spring.
The Virgin-Huntresse sworne to Dian's Bow,
Here in this shade her Quarries did bestow,
And for their Nymphals, building amorous Bowers,
Oft drest this Tree with Anadems of flowers;
And Flora chose her Nurcery here to shield,
Her tender Buds the Infants of the Field.
By which, this Tree grew arrogant in time,
And in his ranke Sap bred a lothsome Slime,
Whose Nature and vile Qualitie is such,
Strongly to hold what ever it doth tuch;
And not content to minister this meane,
Which in short time might have undone us cleane;
511
He hath imploy'd unto their generall wo,
That when thy Subjects dreading no deceit,
Came to this Tree, as to their safe retreit,
They were betray'd, and he that sped the best,
Hardly escap't, with Feathers at the least.
Those that I could, as I had power and might,
Though with much payne, I lastly did acquight.
The rest, whose freedome doth exceed my reach,
O King of Birds, I humbly thee beseech
In mercy, let thy mightinesse purvay,
To ransome from this eminent Decay.
When now the Eagle cutting off his Tale,
And even for sorrow waxing wan and pale;
At which sad sight, this poore Implumed crue,
Stand faintly trembling in their Soveraignes view;
And having stretcht his Lordly tallon forth,
To shew th'acceptance of this deed of worth;
You silly Birds, you wretched Fowles (quoth he)
Henceforth let this a friendly warning be.
Had you (as Nature and our Lawes admit)
Built where your Noble Ancestors did sit,
Wisely providing to maintayne their State,
Whose Names and Freedomes you participate,
You had not thus beene spoyled of your Goods,
For, Subtiltie now dwelleth in the Woods.
For if too high and haughtily you soare,
Those see your falls that hover neere the Shore.
If in the Cedar you your Nests dispose,
The dreadfull Lightning ever threatneth those.
If in the low Earth (in the flattering Shade)
The Fowlers Snares there secretly are laid.
Then, my deare Subjects, as you wish my good,
Or have respect to your succeeding brood,
Let your wise Fathers an example give,
And by their Rules learne thriftily to live.
Let those weake Birds, that want wherewith to fight,
Submit to those that are of grip and might.
Let those of power, the weaker still protect,
So none shall neede his safety to suspect;
Suppressing those enormities that are,
Whose cure belongs unto our Soveraigne care.
For when wealth growes into a few Mens hands,
And to the Great, the poore in many Bands;
The pride in Court doth make the Country leane,
The abject rich hold ancient Honour meane.
Mens wits employ'd to base and servile shifts,
And Lay-men taught, by learn'd Mens subtill drifts,
Ill with this State 't must incidently fare.
For even as from th'infection of the Ayre,
Sundry contagious sicknesses proceed,
These mischiefes more continually doe breed.
Shun beastly Lust (you young well-feathered Fowle)
That wounds the Body, and confounds the Soule;
That as the subtill'st of the Syrens brood,
Binds all the Spirits, and over-comes the blood;
Darkning the purenesse of the inward Light,
Weakneth the Sense and murd'reth Reason quite.
And you that sit as Judges of the Law,
Let not vile Gayne your equall Ballance draw.
O! still retayne the Ethiopians guise,
(As Just and Upright, as Select and Wise)
That in their Judgements (sacred and profound)
Dispos'd them ever meekely on the ground;
To shew the Angels (sitting over Head)
Them were to judge, as they had censured.
And even for sorrow waxing wan and pale;
At which sad sight, this poore Implumed crue,
Stand faintly trembling in their Soveraignes view;
And having stretcht his Lordly tallon forth,
To shew th'acceptance of this deed of worth;
You silly Birds, you wretched Fowles (quoth he)
Henceforth let this a friendly warning be.
Had you (as Nature and our Lawes admit)
Built where your Noble Ancestors did sit,
Wisely providing to maintayne their State,
Whose Names and Freedomes you participate,
You had not thus beene spoyled of your Goods,
For, Subtiltie now dwelleth in the Woods.
For if too high and haughtily you soare,
Those see your falls that hover neere the Shore.
If in the Cedar you your Nests dispose,
The dreadfull Lightning ever threatneth those.
If in the low Earth (in the flattering Shade)
The Fowlers Snares there secretly are laid.
Then, my deare Subjects, as you wish my good,
Or have respect to your succeeding brood,
Let your wise Fathers an example give,
And by their Rules learne thriftily to live.
Let those weake Birds, that want wherewith to fight,
Submit to those that are of grip and might.
512
So none shall neede his safety to suspect;
Suppressing those enormities that are,
Whose cure belongs unto our Soveraigne care.
For when wealth growes into a few Mens hands,
And to the Great, the poore in many Bands;
The pride in Court doth make the Country leane,
The abject rich hold ancient Honour meane.
Mens wits employ'd to base and servile shifts,
And Lay-men taught, by learn'd Mens subtill drifts,
Ill with this State 't must incidently fare.
For even as from th'infection of the Ayre,
Sundry contagious sicknesses proceed,
These mischiefes more continually doe breed.
Shun beastly Lust (you young well-feathered Fowle)
That wounds the Body, and confounds the Soule;
That as the subtill'st of the Syrens brood,
Binds all the Spirits, and over-comes the blood;
Darkning the purenesse of the inward Light,
Weakneth the Sense and murd'reth Reason quite.
And you that sit as Judges of the Law,
Let not vile Gayne your equall Ballance draw.
O! still retayne the Ethiopians guise,
(As Just and Upright, as Select and Wise)
That in their Judgements (sacred and profound)
Dispos'd them ever meekely on the ground;
To shew the Angels (sitting over Head)
Them were to judge, as they had censured.
Thus spake the Eagle, when with mutt'ring noyse,
The rest attentive to his powerfull voyce,
Giving a Signall of their admiration,
The Owle this while in serious Contemplation
Softly replyes, O mightie Soveraigne!
With all the Synod of thy winged Traine,
Th'abundant Joyes that in my Heart doe throng,
Require more Organs then the onely Tongue.
O blessed Birds! how sweet is your subjection,
Under the safe and absolute protection?
Of so exact and excellent a King,
So sole and perfect in his governing:
The reason this (my grave selected Peeres)
Because 'tis knowne, that in these latter Yeeres,
The peacefull State prepost'rously disturb'd,
By such, whose power the Great have hardly curb'd.
The jocund Throstle, for his varying Note,
Clad by the Eagle in a speckled Cote;
Because his voyce had Judgement for the Palme,
Suppos'd himselfe sole Patrone of our Calme.
All say, for singing he had never Peere:
But there were some that did his Vertue feare.
Why should'st thou then ambitiously despise
The manly Falcon? on whose courage lyes
The Kingdomes safetie, which abroad doth roame,
By forraigne Warres to keepe us safe at Home.
I know, the strayne of an alluring Tongue
Can tye the full Eare, and detayne it long,
But other fortunes, and the altred place,
Crave new directions, and an active grace.
The former Vertue may consist alone,
But better two (if firmely joyn'd in one)
Experience once (by service in the Warres)
Did quote his strong Authorities in scarres;
But in this latter Time, it hath beene said,
The Tongue doth all, contemning th'others aid.
Vertue, whose chiefe prayse in the Act doth stand,
Could wish the Tongue still coupled with the Hand.
But in the Cocke which death untimely wrackt,
In him was both the Elegance and Act.
O! when that Bird was ravish'd from our sight,
(Intombing him) the World intomb'd Delight.
Let never mournefull Accent passe my Pen,
That leaves his Fame un-registred to Men.
The Muses vailed with sad Cypres Tree,
Upon his Grave, shall powre their Teares with mee.
O! if the World can weepe so many Teares
As his losse craves, or if in Heaven appeares
More plentious Sorrow; let them both agree,
T'lament that houre that reft the Earth of thee.
O! thought I not some Spirit could give thee more
Then this small Portion of my scantled Store!
I would not leave (I first would leave to Live)
To give thee Fame: O who can greater give?
The rest attentive to his powerfull voyce,
Giving a Signall of their admiration,
The Owle this while in serious Contemplation
Softly replyes, O mightie Soveraigne!
With all the Synod of thy winged Traine,
Th'abundant Joyes that in my Heart doe throng,
Require more Organs then the onely Tongue.
O blessed Birds! how sweet is your subjection,
Under the safe and absolute protection?
513
So sole and perfect in his governing:
The reason this (my grave selected Peeres)
Because 'tis knowne, that in these latter Yeeres,
The peacefull State prepost'rously disturb'd,
By such, whose power the Great have hardly curb'd.
The jocund Throstle, for his varying Note,
Clad by the Eagle in a speckled Cote;
Because his voyce had Judgement for the Palme,
Suppos'd himselfe sole Patrone of our Calme.
All say, for singing he had never Peere:
But there were some that did his Vertue feare.
Why should'st thou then ambitiously despise
The manly Falcon? on whose courage lyes
The Kingdomes safetie, which abroad doth roame,
By forraigne Warres to keepe us safe at Home.
I know, the strayne of an alluring Tongue
Can tye the full Eare, and detayne it long,
But other fortunes, and the altred place,
Crave new directions, and an active grace.
The former Vertue may consist alone,
But better two (if firmely joyn'd in one)
Experience once (by service in the Warres)
Did quote his strong Authorities in scarres;
But in this latter Time, it hath beene said,
The Tongue doth all, contemning th'others aid.
Vertue, whose chiefe prayse in the Act doth stand,
Could wish the Tongue still coupled with the Hand.
But in the Cocke which death untimely wrackt,
In him was both the Elegance and Act.
O! when that Bird was ravish'd from our sight,
(Intombing him) the World intomb'd Delight.
Let never mournefull Accent passe my Pen,
That leaves his Fame un-registred to Men.
The Muses vailed with sad Cypres Tree,
Upon his Grave, shall powre their Teares with mee.
O! if the World can weepe so many Teares
As his losse craves, or if in Heaven appeares
514
T'lament that houre that reft the Earth of thee.
O! thought I not some Spirit could give thee more
Then this small Portion of my scantled Store!
I would not leave (I first would leave to Live)
To give thee Fame: O who can greater give?
This said, he sunke, as growing faint with speaking,
Sighing withall, as though his Heart were breaking.
The Princely Eagle pitying of his plight,
To cheere the poore Owle doing all he might;
The Birds applauding with a free consent,
Followed the Eagle (with devout intent)
To the great Mountayne, to have all amended:
Thus I awak't, and here my Dreame was ended.
Sighing withall, as though his Heart were breaking.
The Princely Eagle pitying of his plight,
To cheere the poore Owle doing all he might;
The Birds applauding with a free consent,
Followed the Eagle (with devout intent)
To the great Mountayne, to have all amended:
Thus I awak't, and here my Dreame was ended.
FINIS.
| The Works of Michael Drayton | |