Natures Embassie Or, The Wilde-mans Measvres: Danced naked by twelve Satyres, with sundry others continued in the next Section [by Richard Brathwait] |
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| Two short moderne Satyres. |
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 | Natures Embassie |  |
Two short moderne Satyres.
[A Walking Hypocrite there was, whose pace]
In Ambulantem.
Hypocritam.
Pseudophilia.
Hypocritam.
Pseudophilia.
A Walking Hypocrite there was, whose pace,
Trunkhose, small ruffe, deminutiue in forme,
Shew'd to each man He was the child of grace,
Such were the vertues did his life adorne;
Nought could He heare that did of lightnesse come,
But He would stop his eares, or leaue the roome.
Trunkhose, small ruffe, deminutiue in forme,
Shew'd to each man He was the child of grace,
Such were the vertues did his life adorne;
Nought could He heare that did of lightnesse come,
But He would stop his eares, or leaue the roome.
Discourse (thus would He say) of things deuine,
Soyle not your soules with such lasciuiousnesse:
Your vessels should with precious vertues shine,
As lamps of grace and lights of godlinesse;
But lasse for wo, sin's such a fruitfull weed,
Still as one dies another doth succeed.
Soyle not your soules with such lasciuiousnesse:
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As lamps of grace and lights of godlinesse;
But lasse for wo, sin's such a fruitfull weed,
Still as one dies another doth succeed.
Here one doth beate his braine 'bout practises,
There is another plotting wickednesse;
O how long Lord wilt thou blindfold their eyes,
In suffering them to worke vnrighteousnesse?
Well, I will pray for them, and Syons peace,
The prayers of Saints can no way chuse but please
There is another plotting wickednesse;
O how long Lord wilt thou blindfold their eyes,
In suffering them to worke vnrighteousnesse?
Well, I will pray for them, and Syons peace,
The prayers of Saints can no way chuse but please
Thus did this mirror of deuotion walke,
Inspir'd it seem'd with some Angelicke gift,
So holy was his life, so pure his talke,
As if the spirit of zeale had Ely left,
And lodg'd within his breast, it could not be,
Fuller of godly feruor then was He,
Inspir'd it seem'd with some Angelicke gift,
So holy was his life, so pure his talke,
As if the spirit of zeale had Ely left,
And lodg'd within his breast, it could not be,
Fuller of godly feruor then was He,
But see what end these false pretences haue,
Where zeale is made a cloke to couer sinne,
This whited wall to th' eye so seeming graue,
Like varnish'd tombes had nought but filth within,
For though of zeale He made a formall show,
In Fortune Alley was his Rendeuow.
Where zeale is made a cloke to couer sinne,
This whited wall to th' eye so seeming graue,
Like varnish'd tombes had nought but filth within,
For though of zeale He made a formall show,
In Fortune Alley was his Rendeuow.
There He repos'd there He his solace tooke,
Shrin'd neare his Saint, his female-puritan,
In place so priuate as no eye could looke,
To what they did, to manifest their shame;
But see heauens will, those eyes they least suspected,
First ey'd their shame, whereby they were detected.
Shrin'd neare his Saint, his female-puritan,
In place so priuate as no eye could looke,
To what they did, to manifest their shame;
But see heauens will, those eyes they least suspected,
First ey'd their shame, whereby they were detected.
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Thus did his speech and practise disagree
In one exemplar, formall, regular,
In th' other loose through carnall libertie,
Which two when they do meete, so different are,
As there's no discord worse in any song,
Then twixt a hollow heart and holy tongue.
In one exemplar, formall, regular,
In th' other loose through carnall libertie,
Which two when they do meete, so different are,
As there's no discord worse in any song,
Then twixt a hollow heart and holy tongue.
For He that doth pretend, and think't enough,
To make a shew of what He least intends,
Shall ere the period of his dayes run through,
Beshrew himselfe for his mischieuous ends;
For he that is not good but would be thought,
Is worse by odds then this plaine dealing nought.
To make a shew of what He least intends,
Shall ere the period of his dayes run through,
Beshrew himselfe for his mischieuous ends;
For he that is not good but would be thought,
Is worse by odds then this plaine dealing nought.
[Drusus, what makes thee take no trade in hand]
In Drusum meretri-
cium Adiutorem.
Poligonia.
cium Adiutorem.
Poligonia.
Drusus, what makes thee take no trade in hand,
But like Hermaphrodite, halfe man halfe womā
Pandors thy selfe, and stands at whoores command,
To play the bolt for euery Haxter common?
Spend not thy houres with whoores, lest thou confesse,
There is no life to thy obduratenesse.
But like Hermaphrodite, halfe man halfe womā
Pandors thy selfe, and stands at whoores command,
To play the bolt for euery Haxter common?
Spend not thy houres with whoores, lest thou confesse,
There is no life to thy obduratenesse.
Obdurate villaine hard'ned in ill,
That takes delight in seeing Nature naked,
Whose pleasure drawne from selfe-licentious will,
Makes thee of God, of men, and all forsaked;
Shame is thy chaine, thy fetters linkes of sinne,
Whence to escape is hard, being once lock'd in.
That takes delight in seeing Nature naked,
Whose pleasure drawne from selfe-licentious will,
Makes thee of God, of men, and all forsaked;
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Whence to escape is hard, being once lock'd in.
What newes from Babell, where that purple whoore,
With seared marrow charmes deluded man,
So lull'd a sleepe, as He forgets heauens power,
And serues that hireling-Neapolitan?
I'le tell thee Drusus, sad and heauie newes,
Death vnto Drusus while he hants the stewes.
With seared marrow charmes deluded man,
So lull'd a sleepe, as He forgets heauens power,
And serues that hireling-Neapolitan?
I'le tell thee Drusus, sad and heauie newes,
Death vnto Drusus while he hants the stewes.
| Natures Embassie | |