 | The Metamorphosis of Tabacco |  |
Lusimus Octaui &c.
Ad mare riuuli.
TO MY LOVING FRIEND MASTER Michael Drayton.
The tender labour of my wearie pen,And doubtfull triall of my first-borne rimes,
Loaths to adorne the triumphs of those men,
Which hold the raines of fortune, and the times:
Only to thee, which art with ioy possest
Of the faire hill, where troupes of Poets band,
Where thou enthron'd with Laurell garlands blest,
Maist lift me vp with thy propitious hand;
I send this poëme, which for nought doth care,
But words for words, and loue for loue to share.
------ namque tu solebas
Meas esse aliquid putare nugas.
Meas esse aliquid putare nugas.
IN LAVDEM AVTHORIS
[Graunt me smooth vtt'rance Muses to reherse]
Graunt me smooth vtt'rance Muses to reherseThe pleasing smoothnesse of thy worthy verse:
If there be words fram'd by admired wits
To sing thy praise, those words my verse befits,
But such are scant, and there's not one remaines
Can giue thee due, none worth enough containes
To sing thy praise in an vp-raised straine,
And giue desert to thy admired paine:
Feare not the censure of each babbling tongue,
They care not whom they pleasure, whom they wrong:
Respect it not if fooles thy Muse miscall,
Thy paine, her worth deserues applause of all:
In whose adoring if my pen offends,
My heart my pens defaults will make amends.
Z. D.
[See how the chatt'ring throngs of Poets vaine]
See how the chatt'ring throngs of Poets vaineBesiege the paths vnto the Muses cell:
See how they pant, and beate with fruitlesse paine
The steepie traces to the learned well:
Securely thou their vaine assaults discount,
Thou, whom Apollo by the hand hath guided
A new-found passage to the horned mount,
And from the rout vnhallowed hath deuided,
And taught thee raise thy soring Muse on wing,
And thy triumphant name in learned eares to ring.
There didst thou gather on Parnassus clift
This pretious herbe, Tabacco most diuine,
A flower more fragrant to the Muses shrine:
A purer sacrifice did nere adorne
Apolloes altars, then this Indian fire,
The pipe, thy head: the flame to make it burne,
The furie, which the Muses doe inspire:
O sacred smoke, that doth from hence arise,
The authors winged praise, which beates vpon the skies.
W. B.
[Whom Helicon, and Tempe doe adorne]
Whom Helicon, and Tempe doe adorneWith sugred gifts of diuine poetrie,
Let no detracting Zoilus him scorne,
Thinking thereby to cure his maladie:
For he that once doth Homers pen dispraise,
Cannot himselfe to Laureats honour raise.
Then thou, that art the author of this booke,
Send forth that sacred fume from out thy braine,
That thereon well-disposed wits may looke,
And say, Giue me Tabacco once againe:
For Castile nere did such a pipe afford
Of Trinidade vpon mine honest word.
H. H.
[If that the Bee, whose winter paines are rest]
If that the Bee, whose winter paines are rest,For gath'ring hony in the fruitfull spring,
And making choise of eu'ry flowre the best,
That to her hiue she may the sweetnesse bring,
Doth to her selfe deserue so great a praise,
What may be his, whose whole yeares worst spent hower,
For recreation on some idle daies,
Hath suckt such hony from an Indian flower?
What may be his, whose first fruits are so faire?
What may be his, I cannot say too much,
Nay what is his to giue I doe despaire:
As one too weake to giue them their desart,
Yet rather chuse my selfe to take a maime,
Then for to faile to shew a louing hart
Vnto my friend to recompence his paine.
I. A.
[What my poore Muse can doe, she vowes it thine]
What my poore Muse can doe, she vowes it thine:Black set to white makes it farre cleerer shine:
Thus like a faithfull friend she first assaies
With her owne shame to purchase thee the praise:
And yet if enuie seeke thy worth to blot,
(As what deserts be they she staineth not)
Through truer zeale she plaies this second part,
The spite, that's aim'd at thee, comes through her hart.
N. P.
[Sometimes all man, that hath vs'd soule and breath]
Sometimes all man, that hath vs'd soule and breath,Must print his heele on the black way of Death:
But this small poeme, though the least of manie,
Shall liue like Soules, though natures worst gifts die:
Till all the compounds weare their fierie sheete,
Not till all Death shall this slight storie fleete.
M. G.
To the white Reader.
Take vp these lines Tabācco-like vnto thy braine,And that diuinely toucht, puffe out the smoke againe.
B. H.
[My new-borne Muse assaies her tender wing]
My new-borne Muse assaies her tender wing,And where she should crie is inforst to sing:
Her children prophesie thy pleasing rime
Shall neuer be a dish for hungrie time:
Yet be regardlesse what those verses say,
Whose infant mother was but borne to day.
F. B.
[I doe inuoke none but thy selfe to praise thee]
I doe inuoke none but thy selfe to praise thee,For there's no other Muse so high can raise thee:
Thou art my Muse, I can thy praises tell,
My Muse hath tasted of the Muses well.
F. R.
[The tender plant, which goodly fruit hath bore]
The tender plant, which goodly fruit hath bore,Being growne doth promise farre more beautious store:
Seeing thy youths prime a worthie worke hath dight,
What shall thy riper Muse produce to light?
Tabaccoes spring, transforming, soueraigntie
Set'st forth with truth, fictions, Philosophie,
Merits enroulement with Mœonian quill
Thy wit, zeale, labours, and thy learned skill.
Doctrina, ingenio, studijs, pietate, labore,
Exupera, polle, profice, cresce, vige.
I. P.
THE METAMORPHOSIS OF TABACCO.
I sing the loues of the superiour powers,
With the faire mother of all fragrant flowers:
From which first loue a glorious Simple springs,
Belou'd of heau'nly Gods, and earthly Kings.
Let others in their wanton verses chaunt
A beautious face that doth their senses daunt,
And on their Muses wings lift to the skie
The radiant beames of an inchaunting eye.
Me let the sound of great Tabaccoes praise
A pitch aboue those loue-sicke Poets raise:
Let me adore with my thrice-happie pen
The sweete and sole delight of mortall men,
The Cornu-copia of all earthly pleasure,
Where bank-rupt Nature hath consum'd her treasure,
A worthie plant springing from Floraes hand,
The blessed ofspring of an vncouth land.
Breath-giuing herbe, none other I inuoke
To helpe me paint the praise of sugred smoke:
Not that corrupted artificiall drug,
Which euery Gull as his owne soule doth hug,
And in the sweete composture of a docke
Drinkes to his Ladies dog, and Mistresse smocke,
Whose best conceits are broacht of bastard fume,
Whose wittie salt depends on the salt rheume,
Which first like Vapours doe ascend on high,
But quickly vanish ere they touch the skie,
Which like to Meteors for a while amaze
The simple soules which wondring stand at gaze:
But being knowne from whence they first were fir'd
Are counted base, and cease to be admir'd.
Auant base Hypocrite, I call not thee,
But thou great God of Indian melodie,
Which at the Caribes banquet gouern'st all,
And gently rul'st the sturdiest Caniball:
Which at their bloodie feasts dost crowned sit,
And smok'st their barking iawes at eu'ry bit:
Which lead'st the Circle of a sauage round
With iarring songs, and homely musicks sound:
Which to fond mirth their cruell minds dost frame,
And after with a pleasing sleepe dost tame:
By whom the Indian Priests inspired be,
When they presage in barbrous Poetrie:
Infume my braine, make my soules powers subtile,
Giue nimble cadence to my harsher stile:
Inspire me with thy flame, which doth excell
The purest streames of the Castalian well,
That I on thy ascensiue wings may flie
By thine ethereall vapours borne on high,
And with thy feathers added to my quill
May pitch thy tents on the Parnassian hill,
Teach me what power thee on earth did place,
What God was bounteous to the humane race,
On what occasion, and by whom it stood,
That the blest world receiu'd so great a good.
With the faire mother of all fragrant flowers:
From which first loue a glorious Simple springs,
Belou'd of heau'nly Gods, and earthly Kings.
Let others in their wanton verses chaunt
A beautious face that doth their senses daunt,
And on their Muses wings lift to the skie
The radiant beames of an inchaunting eye.
Me let the sound of great Tabaccoes praise
A pitch aboue those loue-sicke Poets raise:
Let me adore with my thrice-happie pen
The sweete and sole delight of mortall men,
The Cornu-copia of all earthly pleasure,
Where bank-rupt Nature hath consum'd her treasure,
A worthie plant springing from Floraes hand,
The blessed ofspring of an vncouth land.
Breath-giuing herbe, none other I inuoke
To helpe me paint the praise of sugred smoke:
Not that corrupted artificiall drug,
Which euery Gull as his owne soule doth hug,
Drinkes to his Ladies dog, and Mistresse smocke,
Whose best conceits are broacht of bastard fume,
Whose wittie salt depends on the salt rheume,
Which first like Vapours doe ascend on high,
But quickly vanish ere they touch the skie,
Which like to Meteors for a while amaze
The simple soules which wondring stand at gaze:
But being knowne from whence they first were fir'd
Are counted base, and cease to be admir'd.
Auant base Hypocrite, I call not thee,
But thou great God of Indian melodie,
Which at the Caribes banquet gouern'st all,
And gently rul'st the sturdiest Caniball:
Which at their bloodie feasts dost crowned sit,
And smok'st their barking iawes at eu'ry bit:
Which lead'st the Circle of a sauage round
With iarring songs, and homely musicks sound:
Which to fond mirth their cruell minds dost frame,
And after with a pleasing sleepe dost tame:
By whom the Indian Priests inspired be,
When they presage in barbrous Poetrie:
Infume my braine, make my soules powers subtile,
Giue nimble cadence to my harsher stile:
Inspire me with thy flame, which doth excell
The purest streames of the Castalian well,
That I on thy ascensiue wings may flie
By thine ethereall vapours borne on high,
And with thy feathers added to my quill
May pitch thy tents on the Parnassian hill,
Teach me what power thee on earth did place,
What God was bounteous to the humane race,
That the blest world receiu'd so great a good.
Before the earth and heau'n were create,
When the rude Chaos lay disconsolate,
When this great All, and wondrous worke we see
Had neither forme, nor part, nor qualitie,
Blind Nature did her Atomi disperse
Ouer the large confused vniuerse,
And heau'nly powers all out of order plac't,
Were buried in the bowels of the Vast.
Then did these seedes, which yet vnpolisht were,
Wage warre against the seedes of single-beere,
And smotherd in that topsi-turuie trance,
Nourisht some smacke of mirth and iouisance:
But when this massie lumpe had chang'd her face,
And eu'ry thing possest his proper place,
Yet did this plant in darke obliuion lurke,
Small trauaile could not bring forth such a worke:
(Like to Alcmenaes sonne the God of might,
Whom to beget Ioue made a treble night)
Till wise Prometheus, which compos'd a creature
Excelling all the world in forme and feature,
When he that rare immortall worke had done,
Stole fire from the bright chariot of the Sunne:
Which farre-fetcht fire had seru'd him to no end,
But that the Earth her chiefest powers did lend:
For seeing how great Phœbus was beguil'd
To make a God of her beloued child,
And alwaies enuying at the Gods aboue,
(As her Viperean brood of Giants proue:
And totall ruine of her stubborne race,
For whom in teares she washt her watrie face)
She call'd her Herald-winds, and charg'd them all,
That they a councell of her subiects call:
Out goes her Purseuant the blustring gale,
And summons eu'ry hill, and euery dale;
Curles eu'ry riuer with a sliding touch
From Titans rising to his Westerne couch,
And with the whissing Trumpet it doth beare
Commaunds each earthly subiect to appeare,
And on a high Embassage doth repaire
To Earths three sisters, Water, Fire, and Aire:
(These foure are ioynt copartners, and coheires
Of all that lies below the starrie spheres:
Who for their kingdomes bounds haue been at ods,
But now they by the sentence of the Gods,
And their dread vmpires, Hot, Drie, Moist, and Cold
In common, and without diuision hold)
The day was comen, when on a stately pile
Foure seates were plac't on the Americk Ile,
Where these great Princes and their portly traines
Made enterview on the Atlantick plaines.
When the rude Chaos lay disconsolate,
When this great All, and wondrous worke we see
Had neither forme, nor part, nor qualitie,
Blind Nature did her Atomi disperse
Ouer the large confused vniuerse,
And heau'nly powers all out of order plac't,
Were buried in the bowels of the Vast.
Then did these seedes, which yet vnpolisht were,
Wage warre against the seedes of single-beere,
And smotherd in that topsi-turuie trance,
Nourisht some smacke of mirth and iouisance:
But when this massie lumpe had chang'd her face,
And eu'ry thing possest his proper place,
Yet did this plant in darke obliuion lurke,
Small trauaile could not bring forth such a worke:
(Like to Alcmenaes sonne the God of might,
Whom to beget Ioue made a treble night)
Till wise Prometheus, which compos'd a creature
Excelling all the world in forme and feature,
When he that rare immortall worke had done,
Stole fire from the bright chariot of the Sunne:
Which farre-fetcht fire had seru'd him to no end,
But that the Earth her chiefest powers did lend:
For seeing how great Phœbus was beguil'd
To make a God of her beloued child,
And alwaies enuying at the Gods aboue,
(As her Viperean brood of Giants proue:
And totall ruine of her stubborne race,
For whom in teares she washt her watrie face)
That they a councell of her subiects call:
Out goes her Purseuant the blustring gale,
And summons eu'ry hill, and euery dale;
Curles eu'ry riuer with a sliding touch
From Titans rising to his Westerne couch,
And with the whissing Trumpet it doth beare
Commaunds each earthly subiect to appeare,
And on a high Embassage doth repaire
To Earths three sisters, Water, Fire, and Aire:
(These foure are ioynt copartners, and coheires
Of all that lies below the starrie spheres:
Who for their kingdomes bounds haue been at ods,
But now they by the sentence of the Gods,
And their dread vmpires, Hot, Drie, Moist, and Cold
In common, and without diuision hold)
The day was comen, when on a stately pile
Foure seates were plac't on the Americk Ile,
Where these great Princes and their portly traines
Made enterview on the Atlantick plaines.
After
Pandora had made euident
The cause of this so sudden Parlement,
Tearing her flowrie locks, and furrowed face,
She gan lament the poore Prometheus case.
Stand out (quoth she) thou that art thus distrest,
Declare thy case, for here thou maist be blest.
Then stept out he as a condemned man
Clothed in blacke, and thus his speech began.
Know most dread Soueraignes of the lower globe,
I am a dead man, and this guiltie robe
Shewes that by colour of the Gods contemn'd
I to a Vulturs mercie am condemn'd,
On Caucasus amid the Scythian groue,
By the fear'd sentence of almightie Ioue,
There to be tide in euerlasting chaines,
Plung'd in the horrour of eternall paines:
Yet this torments me not, this must be borne,
(And patience comes perforce to men forlorne)
But that my worke which I haue erst begun,
For all my labour should remaine vndone,
That's my vexation, that's my only griefe,
And only rests in you to giue reliefe:
For Ioue enuies the beautie of the frame,
And seekes all meanes how to deface the same,
Looking on me with a suspitious eye,
As a corriuall of his dignitie;
When he may well remember (if he please)
How little I deserue such lookes as these,
When I with counsell of an aged head
Did stay his youthfull thoughts from Thetis bed,
And told him there he should beget a sonne
Should him depose, as he before had done
His father Saturne: then he thankt me faire,
(But words are quickly turn'd to fleeting aire)
Now hates he me, and doth my worke detest,
Which must vnlesse you helpe vnperfect rest,
For all my sharpe inuentions cannot find
How life vnto this trunke may be combin'd.
Here grandame Ops her grieued head did shake,
And made the massie earths foundations quake,
Then gusht cleere fountaines from her hollow eyes,
(Floods from the earths strange motions often rise)
And at the last her lips did part in two,
(As after Earth-quakes they are wont to doe)
Is't not enough (quoth she) that tyrant Ioue
Hath my sonne Saturne from his kingdome droue?
And me his mother hath confin'd below,
Because I wept as partner of his woe?
Is't not enough my middle part doth frie,
While head and feete benumd with cold doth lie?
That alwaies halfe my Realme the Sunne doth lack,
And for his absence mourne in gloomie black?
Or that my louing subiects neuer see,
But halfe the heauen wheresoere they be?
Is not all this enough, and more then this
To be secluded from all heau'nly blisse?
Bound in a dungeon, vs'd as though I were
A beast ordain'd laborious waights to beare?
Each massie thing, and the worlds waightiest part
Pressing vnto my center, to my hart,
Where he hath made huge caues, & darksome holes,
Places of torture for offending soules,
Whose howling yells, cries, curses, grones and teares
Are pois'ned obiects to mine eyes and eares:
And is not this enough, but must he still
Crosse the good purpose of my harmlesse will?
Hindring the proiect of our gen'rall care,
Our sonne whose wished fruite we hope to share,
Nor shall too sweete an expectation mocke
Vs happie beldames of a blessed stocke:
Only it resteth that we now deuise
To seate our darling in the starrie skies,
Which purpose that we to effect may bring,
A plant shall from my wrinkled forehead spring,
And eu'ry Ladie shall that herbe endow
With the best gemmes that deck her glorious brow,
Which once inflam'd with the stolne heau'nly fire,
Shall breath into this liuelesse corse inspire.
Scarse had she spoke, but by vnite consent
It was allowed by eu'ry element,
Each mountaine nodded, and each riuer sleeke
Approu'd the sentence with a dimpled cheeke,
And eu'ry thing in dauncing measure sprung,
As erst they did, when gentle Orpheus sung:
As when the Actors of some Enterlude,
Which please the senses of the multitude,
Are backt by the Spectators of the play
With a wisht laughter, or a Plaudite:
So with vnperfect voyces all the rout
Grace this opinion with a loftie shout.
(Like Bacchus priests whom Strymons banks rebound,
Whom the shrill Ecchoes of fleete Hebrus sound)
Till Fire the eldest sister vp did stand,
(And silence made with her imperiall hand)
Praising the proiect swore to grace the same
With actiue powers of her eternall flame.
Aire likewise promist she would rarefie
The earthly drosse to simple puritie,
And caus'd her skipping Meteors to addresse
Their gifts of light, and iocund nimblenesse,
Her cloudes from heau'nly flood-gates manuring
The ground, where this expected herb should spring.
Water refus'd her vertues to inspire,
Least she should quench the hope of future fire,
Yet did the seruants of her excellence
Offer each one their best parts quintessence:
The Icy waues were all with Christall fraught:
The Magellanick sea her vnions brought:
Tagus with golden gifts doth proudly rise,
And doth the famous Indian rills despise:
Eridanus his pearl'd Electrum gaue:
Euripus the swift fluxure of his waue:
From British seas doth holesome Corall come:
The Danish gulfe doth send her Succinum:
And each this hoped embryon dignifies
With offring of a seu'rall sacrifice.
The earth her selfe at last did procreate
This herbe composed in despite of fate,
And charged eu'ry countrie, and each hill
A speciall power into this leafe distill,
Which thus adorn'd, by holy fire inflam'd
Sweete life and breath within that carkasse fram'd:
And had not Tellus temper'd too much mud,
Too much terrene corruption in the bud,
The man that tasted it should neuer die,
But stand in records of eternitie:
And as the ashes of the Phœnix burn'd
Into another liuing bird are turn'd,
So should the man, that takes this sacred fume,
Another life within himselfe resume:
So Iolaüs, when his first was done,
His second life was of Tabacco spunne.
Some say for this Ioue vexed at the heart
Did hide it long from the worlds better part:
Hence came that former ages neuer knew
The goods, that by this seeming weede accrue.
Till as the Graces trauail'd through the earth,
Giuing to men their gifts of heau'nly mirth,
At last when they into Americk came,
Drawne by the strange delights, and countries fame,
They in the palace of great Mutezume
Were entertain'd with this celestiall fume:
Where they forgetting all their wonted pleasure,
Imbrac't with ioy this truest Indian treasure,
And there remaining did no more respect
Our petie world with nought but trifles deckt.
So the faire Graces, which were wont to sport
Amid our louing feasts, and sweete resort,
Were now secluded from our lucklesse eyes,
And in their place did braules and quarrels rise,
All friendship banisht from false Europes sight,
Where flattring lurkt in stead of deare delight.
Till we poore soules in many troubles tost,
Seeking the Graces which we erst had lost,
When we had often sought them farre and neere,
After great paine and trauaile found them there.
The cause of this so sudden Parlement,
Tearing her flowrie locks, and furrowed face,
She gan lament the poore Prometheus case.
Stand out (quoth she) thou that art thus distrest,
Declare thy case, for here thou maist be blest.
Then stept out he as a condemned man
Clothed in blacke, and thus his speech began.
Know most dread Soueraignes of the lower globe,
I am a dead man, and this guiltie robe
Shewes that by colour of the Gods contemn'd
I to a Vulturs mercie am condemn'd,
By the fear'd sentence of almightie Ioue,
There to be tide in euerlasting chaines,
Plung'd in the horrour of eternall paines:
Yet this torments me not, this must be borne,
(And patience comes perforce to men forlorne)
But that my worke which I haue erst begun,
For all my labour should remaine vndone,
That's my vexation, that's my only griefe,
And only rests in you to giue reliefe:
For Ioue enuies the beautie of the frame,
And seekes all meanes how to deface the same,
Looking on me with a suspitious eye,
As a corriuall of his dignitie;
When he may well remember (if he please)
How little I deserue such lookes as these,
When I with counsell of an aged head
Did stay his youthfull thoughts from Thetis bed,
And told him there he should beget a sonne
Should him depose, as he before had done
His father Saturne: then he thankt me faire,
(But words are quickly turn'd to fleeting aire)
Now hates he me, and doth my worke detest,
Which must vnlesse you helpe vnperfect rest,
For all my sharpe inuentions cannot find
How life vnto this trunke may be combin'd.
Here grandame Ops her grieued head did shake,
And made the massie earths foundations quake,
Then gusht cleere fountaines from her hollow eyes,
(Floods from the earths strange motions often rise)
And at the last her lips did part in two,
(As after Earth-quakes they are wont to doe)
Hath my sonne Saturne from his kingdome droue?
And me his mother hath confin'd below,
Because I wept as partner of his woe?
Is't not enough my middle part doth frie,
While head and feete benumd with cold doth lie?
That alwaies halfe my Realme the Sunne doth lack,
And for his absence mourne in gloomie black?
Or that my louing subiects neuer see,
But halfe the heauen wheresoere they be?
Is not all this enough, and more then this
To be secluded from all heau'nly blisse?
Bound in a dungeon, vs'd as though I were
A beast ordain'd laborious waights to beare?
Each massie thing, and the worlds waightiest part
Pressing vnto my center, to my hart,
Where he hath made huge caues, & darksome holes,
Places of torture for offending soules,
Whose howling yells, cries, curses, grones and teares
Are pois'ned obiects to mine eyes and eares:
And is not this enough, but must he still
Crosse the good purpose of my harmlesse will?
Hindring the proiect of our gen'rall care,
Our sonne whose wished fruite we hope to share,
Nor shall too sweete an expectation mocke
Vs happie beldames of a blessed stocke:
Only it resteth that we now deuise
To seate our darling in the starrie skies,
Which purpose that we to effect may bring,
A plant shall from my wrinkled forehead spring,
And eu'ry Ladie shall that herbe endow
With the best gemmes that deck her glorious brow,
Shall breath into this liuelesse corse inspire.
Scarse had she spoke, but by vnite consent
It was allowed by eu'ry element,
Each mountaine nodded, and each riuer sleeke
Approu'd the sentence with a dimpled cheeke,
And eu'ry thing in dauncing measure sprung,
As erst they did, when gentle Orpheus sung:
As when the Actors of some Enterlude,
Which please the senses of the multitude,
Are backt by the Spectators of the play
With a wisht laughter, or a Plaudite:
So with vnperfect voyces all the rout
Grace this opinion with a loftie shout.
(Like Bacchus priests whom Strymons banks rebound,
Whom the shrill Ecchoes of fleete Hebrus sound)
Till Fire the eldest sister vp did stand,
(And silence made with her imperiall hand)
Praising the proiect swore to grace the same
With actiue powers of her eternall flame.
Aire likewise promist she would rarefie
The earthly drosse to simple puritie,
And caus'd her skipping Meteors to addresse
Their gifts of light, and iocund nimblenesse,
Her cloudes from heau'nly flood-gates manuring
The ground, where this expected herb should spring.
Water refus'd her vertues to inspire,
Least she should quench the hope of future fire,
Yet did the seruants of her excellence
Offer each one their best parts quintessence:
The Icy waues were all with Christall fraught:
The Magellanick sea her vnions brought:
And doth the famous Indian rills despise:
Eridanus his pearl'd Electrum gaue:
Euripus the swift fluxure of his waue:
From British seas doth holesome Corall come:
The Danish gulfe doth send her Succinum:
And each this hoped embryon dignifies
With offring of a seu'rall sacrifice.
The earth her selfe at last did procreate
This herbe composed in despite of fate,
And charged eu'ry countrie, and each hill
A speciall power into this leafe distill,
Which thus adorn'd, by holy fire inflam'd
Sweete life and breath within that carkasse fram'd:
And had not Tellus temper'd too much mud,
Too much terrene corruption in the bud,
The man that tasted it should neuer die,
But stand in records of eternitie:
And as the ashes of the Phœnix burn'd
Into another liuing bird are turn'd,
So should the man, that takes this sacred fume,
Another life within himselfe resume:
So Iolaüs, when his first was done,
His second life was of Tabacco spunne.
Some say for this Ioue vexed at the heart
Did hide it long from the worlds better part:
Hence came that former ages neuer knew
The goods, that by this seeming weede accrue.
Till as the Graces trauail'd through the earth,
Giuing to men their gifts of heau'nly mirth,
At last when they into Americk came,
Drawne by the strange delights, and countries fame,
Were entertain'd with this celestiall fume:
Where they forgetting all their wonted pleasure,
Imbrac't with ioy this truest Indian treasure,
And there remaining did no more respect
Our petie world with nought but trifles deckt.
So the faire Graces, which were wont to sport
Amid our louing feasts, and sweete resort,
Were now secluded from our lucklesse eyes,
And in their place did braules and quarrels rise,
All friendship banisht from false Europes sight,
Where flattring lurkt in stead of deare delight.
Till we poore soules in many troubles tost,
Seeking the Graces which we erst had lost,
When we had often sought them farre and neere,
After great paine and trauaile found them there.
Others doe tell a long and serious tale
Of a faire Nymph that sported in the vale,
Where Cipo with his siluer streames doth goe
Along the valleyes of Wingandekoe,
(Which now a farre more glorious name doth beare,
Since a more beautious Nymph was worshipt there)
There in a greene bowre did this Maiden dwell,
Where pretie waues of a delicious well
Leapt at her sight, and with a faint rebound
Bubbled sweete Musicke with a daintie sound.
(This fountaine as a Nymph did whilome range,
Till by her prayers the Gods her forme did change,
When Cipo sought her chastities abuse,
As Alpheus did to virgin Arethuse)
There dwelt this Nymph, which with her feature daunted
The soueraigne Gods, and mortall men inchaunted.
So full she was of most delightfull grace,
That by the modell of her beautious face
Ioue was about to build the heau'n anew,
And change the azure to a ruddie hew,
And pull the starrie lights from out the skies,
Leauing but two in likenes of her eyes:
But when the Fates so great a change forbade,
In imitation of her red he made
A ruddie night before a ioyfull day,
And by her white he fram'd the milk-white way:
Her golden threeds were so inchaunting faire,
Men scorn'd the Sunne to gaze vpon her haire,
Phœbus asham'd of this immur'd his beames
Within the cincture of the Ocean streames:
Whereat Ioue angrie sent swift Mercurie,
Who to the palace of the Sunne did hie.
Now the Sunnes Court was glorious to behold,
Supported with strong pillers of bright gold,
The top of Iu'ry was, the doores of plate,
Where Vulcan did so liuely imitate
The heau'n, the earth, the sea, the ayre, the flame,
That heau'n, and earth, and sea enui'd the frame.
Thither came Hermes, and with lowring cheare
Cited the Sunne in person to appeare
Before the Gods to tell his cause of stay,
Why he so long did dallie with the sea.
Phœbus obey'd, and when the Gods were met,
And eu'ry one in wonted order set,
A way was made by the fierce God of warre,
And Pluto brought the pris'ner to the barre,
Whom Suada Ioues Sollicitour accus'd,
That he his light and vertue had abus'd,
That whereas he had sworne by feared Styx,
When Ioue the seale did to his patent fixe,
That he would neuer in one place be found,
But restlesse runne about the massie round:
This solemne oth he had not duly kept,
But in his strumpet Thetis lap had slept.
Here Ioue did Suadaes accusation breake,
And beckning gaue Apollo leaue to speake.
You Gods (quoth he) that here as Iudges sit,
I seeke not to defend my cause by wit,
My chiefest plea is speechlesse eloquence,
Grounded vpon my spotlesse innocence:
Yet if I pleas'd to winne eternall glorie
By the sweete cadence of mine Oratorie,
I could reuiue the dead, and heale the sick
By fluence of celestiall Rhetorick:
The pleasant Musick of the heau'nly spheres
Should pleade my cause to your attentiue eares:
But with plaine termes shall my iust act be tride.
(Who laies on colours doth the substance hide)
I doe not make a night as long as three
To dallie with my loue in iollitie,
(And yet I might as well such dalliance proue,
As Ioue at Thebes for his Alcmenaes loue)
Nor my bright face in liquid teares doe steepe,
Though my sonnes fall haue giu'n me cause to weep:
But on the earth there is a greater light,
Which with her raies doth equall day and night:
Once from my couch I was about to rise,
But straight this brighter lampe strooke blind mine eyes:
My sister Luna when the night drew nie,
Hath been as loth to shew her light as I:
Nor can our splendent glorious lamps compare
With her two lamps that farre more glorious are:
And my Aurora hides her face away,
Sleeping with her Tithonus all the day,
And when she once beheld this radiant face,
Hath euer since blusht at her owne disgrace:
The Sphæres of Planets with a sudden chaunge
Make her the center of their circled raunge:
And all the heau'nly Orbes doe disagree
What part should oft'st in her Horizon bee:
And mortall men colour and light despise,
Esteeming her the obiect of the eyes:
While she (as women be) proud of her honour,
Makes the night day that men may gaze vpon her:
Ioue hearing this dismist the Court in hast,
And in a sillie shepheards weedes debas't,
Shrowded with clowdes downe from the heau'n did slide,
And piping sate vpon a mountaines side:
(Which Occams rolling current ouer-peares,
Descending from a faire Pastoraes teares,
Who now a marble stone, yet weepeth still
To see her louer changed to a hill,
Whom iealous Phœbus did by force remoue,
Brooking no riuall in his feruent loue,
Framing high pines of his inticing locks,
Changing his teeth to Adamantine rocks)
Thither from heau'n great Ioue did hie apace,
And sate on the transformed shepheards face.
So sweetly sounded his melodious notes,
That sheepe and shepheards in their homely cotes
Daunc't to his layes, and following the sound
Did clime the steepe hill with a solemne round:
Among those flocks the beautious Nymph did pace,
Whose snowy neck vied beauties with her face,
(Nor would it in so sweete a combat yield,
Had not her ample forehead wonne the field)
And on that pole doth stand the orbe of loue,
Where Cupid in eccentrick rounds doth moue,
And now from her faire eyes his shafts doth dart,
Then from her lips, and straight from euery part:
Sweet roseall lips, doores to those sacred places,
The gorgeous temples of the glorious graces,
Which gates of Rubie, when they op'ned were,
A shrine of pearle and christall did appeare,
From whence delicious Oracles were spoken,
Which pleasing wonders did to all betoken,
Nor is the murmure of Cecropian Bees,
Nor songs of birds vpon the ayrie trees,
Nor the swift riuer falling downe the steepe,
Lulling poore shepheards with a carelesse sleepe,
(Where Nature with her melodie amazeth
The sillie flocke that on the greene bankes grazeth)
Equiualent with that celestiall sound,
From whence they say Musicke receiu'd her ground:
And first from her did Linus learne to sing,
And with the sweete touch of a pleasing string
Did imitate the playing of the aire
With golden wires of her disheueled haire:
Her countenance was so Angelike bright,
That the pure starres were blinded at her sight,
And euer since their lights so dazled were,
That they were forc't to twinkle in their Sphere:
Her hands were framed like a pretie gin
Ordain'd to catch, and hold all pleasure in:
And euery part a feruent loue did teach,
Yet she her selfe aboue loues wanton reach:
A Coronet she wore, she whilome wonne
Striuing for beautie with the radiant Sunne,
Which mightie Phœbus caus'd the Houres to make
With cunning labour for Leucothoes sake,
This curious worke with Indian pearles was grac't,
Wherein the loues of Gods and men were plac't:
There Neptune in a pretious Margarite
Did woe and winne the beautious Amphitrite:
There Iphis did in humble sort obey
The cruell frownes of Anaxarete:
And Princes loues in arts affections clad,
Excell'd the passions they by nature had.
Thus deckt by art and nature did she come,
Whose feature strook the seeming shepheard dumbe,
Nor could his wau'ring thoughts thēselues containe,
But now left off, and straightway pip'd againe:
Sometimes his notes he with shrill tunes did raise
To chaunt aloud the skipping Roundelaies:
And then againe his lowly voyce did fall
To sing a pleasant homely Pastorall:
And eu'ry song to the Nymphs honour was
Like shepheards musicke to a countrey Lasse:
Lik'ning her eyes vnto the glimsing light,
That guides poore heardsmen to their home at night:
Her haire vnto the golden flowres that grow
Along the fragrant banks of siluer Po:
Her lips to waxe by curious workmanship
Form'd as a paterne to each other lip:
Thus sung he, till the black and shadie night
With vgly forme did feare away the light,
And Hesperus, that stands as euening scout,
Began to leade the starrie ring about,
(Which durst not in her spangled suite appeare,
As long as mightie Titans light was neere,
By reason of some euerlasting iarres,
That did arise twixt Phœbus and the starres)
Then all the Shepheards wearie of the Sunne,
And glad that the laborious day was done,
Began to driue their tender flocks away,
But Ioue did force this sillie maide to stay,
Telling her stories how the force of loue
Had bow'd the hearts of Gods that dwelt aboue:
How Ioue orecome by this celestiall power,
Deceiu'd poore Danae in a golden shower:
How with laments and teares Apollo rued
Faire Daphnes change, whom he so fast pursued:
Hereat she blusht and to depart she stroue;
But all in vaine against the force of Ioue.
This saw the night and glad she was to see
So fit reuenge for the great iniurie,
Wherewith Ioue wrong'd her at Alcides birth,
Making her watch three daies vpon the earth:
Therefore in hast the darke malicious night
To iealous Iuno doth relate this sight:
Iuno enrag'd with threatning speeches storm'd,
And the poore maide into an herbe transform'd:
Which Ioue perceiuing by a vaine embrace
The infant herbe with heau'nly powers did grace,
And on the night he did inflict this paine,
That while the pleasant Summer did remaine,
The lucklesse night should haue but small command,
But in the frostie winter longest stand.
Yet could not Ioue forget his former loue,
But ioyning earthly powers, and powers aboue,
Therewith he did adorne this glorious bud,
And fram'd it as a Micro-cosme of good,
Making the ground where this sweet plant did spring
To be a cordiall gainst each noysome thing,
Endu'd with force all euils to asswage,
And now began the famous golden age.
No publike bond of law, no priuate oth
Was needfull to the simple faith and troth:
Each had a censure in his owne consent
Without the feare of death or punishment:
Nor did the busie Client feare his cause,
Nor in strong brasse did they engraue their lawes,
Nor did the doubtfull parties faintly tremble,
While the brib'd Iudge did dreadful looks dissemble:
Then safe from harme the vaunting Pine did stand,
And had no triall of of the Shipwrights hand,
But stood vpon the hill where first it grew,
Nor yet was forc'd another world to view:
Nor vnto greedie Merchants yet were knowne
The shores of any land beyond their owne:
Eu'ry defencelesse Citie then was sure,
Nor could deepe ditches make it more secure:
The harmelesse thoughts of that blest age did beare
No warlike Trumpet, Cornet, Sword, or Speare,
No furious Souldier needed to defend
The carelesse folke, which quiet liues did spend,
Nor did ambitious Captaines know the way
To passe the cliffie shores of their owne sea:
The earth yet free from any forc'd abuse
Brought forth all things fit for each creatures vse,
Without the helpe of any humane care,
Vntoucht by harrow, and vncut by share,
And mortall men vpon those meates did feede,
Which of themselues did from the earth proceede,
The mountaine Strawberie, and bitter Sloe,
And Mulberies which on rough boughs doe grow,
And homely Akornes, which did whilom fall
From the high trees, which Ioue his owne doth call:
The pleasant yeare was an eternall spring,
Where Westerne winds continual flowres did bring:
The fertile earth vnmanur'd and vntild,
The bounteous gift of plenteous corne did yeeld:
Nor did the field renew'd each seu'rall yeare
Make windy sounds with many a waightie eare:
Brookes did with Milke, and pleasant Nectar goe,
And yellow hony from the trees did flow:
Al good without constraint, heau'n, sea, men, ground,
No gold, no ship, no law, no plough, no bound.
Till Proserpine by this abused flame,
(Striuing to purchase an immortall name)
Reueng'd with raging fire her ancient spite
On Tellus and the scornefull Amphitrite:
(Which oft had mockt her mansion place of hell,
And call'd it darksome hole, and duskie cell)
Therefore the Furies she in hast commands
To burne the fruitfull earth with fierie brands,
And when their hands such instruments did want,
She made them torches of this sacred plant:
By which they fir'd the world, and that once done,
About the earth in raging sort they runne,
And euer since they by these flames did cause
Famine, dissention, plagues, and breach of lawes.
(Yet was the hellish Queene with feare distract,
Least Ioue should know and punish this foule fact:
Therefore she hir'd the Poets long agone
To cast the fault vpon poore Phaëton)
Now when this honour'd herbe was once abus'd,
All paines, all plagues were on the world infus'd,
And then the wicked iron age began,
Shame, truth, and faith from earthly mansions ran,
And in their place came fraud, and cloked vice,
Treason, and force, and impious auarice:
The Mariner whom hope of lucre blinds,
Hasts to the sea vnexpert in the winds,
And trees that long had stood on mountaines high,
As ships vpon the vncouth waues doe lie:
The Merchant then the boistrous sea did plow,
Spite of the frowne of Neptunes angrie brow,
Nor could the horrour of one iourneyes paine
Feare greedie thoughts from ventring so againe:
Neptune then grieued with the wounds and dints,
Which in his face this curious worke emprints,
(And mou'd with Cybels outcries, which did frowne
To see her hils defac'd, and Pines puld downe,
And Natures plaints, whose lawes it had beguil'd)
Made the Sea stormie, which before was mild:
Since which the ribs of broken ships doe show,
What hurts and dangers by this engine grow,
Which makes each fertile countrie want the more,
By seeming Steward of each countries store.
Now did the warie reaper with long bounds
Deuide to portions the vnited grounds,
Which erst were common to each mortall wight,
As is the liquide ayre, or pleasant light:
Nor did they onely take the needfull corne,
And daily food, which from the earth was borne,
But to the bowels of their mother sought,
And cursed riches from the center brought,
Which the wise earth had couer'd vnespide,
And neere vnto the Stygian waues did hide.
First then began the phrases, Mine, and Thine:
Pure water turn'd to artificiall wine:
Pleasure vnknowne, and more then simple mirth
Start vp with gold from out the mangled earth:
Then bounds, then contracts at a racking price,
And from those bounds sprung boundlesse auarice:
Then hurtfull steele the workmans hand did feele,
And gold more hurtfull then the hurtfull steele:
And when both these were comen to perfect growth,
Frō thence came warre, that fights with help of both:
Then did the souldier, which in battell stands,
Shake glittring weapons with his bloodie hands:
All liu'd by wrong: each friend his friend did feare,
And brethren seldome linkt in friendship were:
The husband seekes the death of his owne wife,
And she againe grieues at her husbands life:
The angrie stepdames fearfull poysons make,
Which their new husbands hated child may take:
And the sonne wearie of his fathers stay,
Longs for his death before his fatall day.
White Pieties dispersed reliques lie
Conquer'd, and spoil'd of earthly dignitie,
And then Astræa last of heau'nly powers
Forsooke the earth reeking with bloodie showers.
Yet was not vice ascended to the height:
Yet might our pond'rous soules endure the weight
Of our corrupted flesh: yet might we say
The growth of sinnes perfection wants a day:
Till the fierce Giants of Viperean birth
Made loftie heau'n no more secure then earth,
Seeking Ioues kingdome by presumptuous warres,
Building high mountaines to the trembling starres:
But Ioue the hils did from Olympus tosse,
And cast great Pelion from the top of Osse:
And when the furious Giants thus were kild,
By the great weight which their own hāds did build,
The earth gaue life vnto her childrens blood,
And fram'd them liuing bodies of her mud,
And (least no signe should of her stocke remaine)
She chang'd them to the formes of men againe,
Who not degen'rate from their bloodie birth,
Defi'd the heauen, and defil'd the earth.
Then first ambitious mortals gan to rise,
And with vaine pride did the great Gods despise,
Still warr'd they with the Gods, still had the worst,
And when their hands could do no more, they curst:
Nor could the flood that inward spot deface,
Still it continued in the humane race,
Creeping vnseene, subiecting eu'ry part,
Till it possest our chiefest towre, our hart:
Which thus infected did a battell wage
Gainst the remainders of the golden age.
Then cursed Ate first began her raigne,
And plac't her throne vpon the fluent maine,
Ioying to see the billowes in their pride
Tosse totter'd ships with perill on each side:
Yet sorie Neptune should so largely sup,
And glad againe, when ought he vomits vp.
By her hath eu'ry thing corrupted beene
From the earths center to the heau'nly Queene:
(Which stands aboue the reach of earthly feares,
The lowest of the pure celestiall sphæres)
The fertile earth corrupted by these seedes
Brought forth vnholesome plants, & fruitlesse weeds:
The water not content with her owne bounds,
Vsurpt vpon the neere adiacent grounds:
The ayre infected did infect the breath,
From whence arose the instruments of death:
The fire so hid her selfe, that none could see
Where her abode or proper place should bee:
Then sicknesse came on the infected earth,
Some fell in youth, some perisht in their birth,
And whereas mortals neuer died before,
Till spent with age their lights could burne no more,
Now fathers eyes were made a watrie sourse,
To wash their sonnes graues in prepost'rous course.
And had not the immortall Gods at last,
Pitying the sorrowes sillie men had past,
Cherisht poore soules with their eternall loue,
And sent Apollo Pæan from aboue,
To crosse the purpose which the hag intended,
Long since her malice all the world had ended:
Yet could not carefull Phœbus quite deface
The venome Ate on the earth did place,
Till Aesculapius great Apolloes sonne
(Enuying the glorie shepheard Pan had wonne,
When of his loue transform'd he did inuent
The pleasure of a Musicke instrument)
Descri'd this herbe to our new golden age,
And did deuise a pipe, which should asswage
The wounds, which sorrow in our hearts did fixe,
More then the sound of flutes, and fiddle-sticks,
And by the force thereof (as Poets faine)
Brought torne Hippolytus to life againe,
And watchmen set, and them Phisitians call'd
Men, whom the Muses had before enstall'd,
Whose carefull soules were by this potion fir'd,
And by the power of this sweete herbe inspir'd,
Which by the vertue of their sacred hands
Deliuer'd men from death, and sicknes bands.
Of a faire Nymph that sported in the vale,
Where Cipo with his siluer streames doth goe
Along the valleyes of Wingandekoe,
(Which now a farre more glorious name doth beare,
Since a more beautious Nymph was worshipt there)
There in a greene bowre did this Maiden dwell,
Where pretie waues of a delicious well
Leapt at her sight, and with a faint rebound
Bubbled sweete Musicke with a daintie sound.
(This fountaine as a Nymph did whilome range,
Till by her prayers the Gods her forme did change,
When Cipo sought her chastities abuse,
As Alpheus did to virgin Arethuse)
There dwelt this Nymph, which with her feature daunted
The soueraigne Gods, and mortall men inchaunted.
That by the modell of her beautious face
Ioue was about to build the heau'n anew,
And change the azure to a ruddie hew,
And pull the starrie lights from out the skies,
Leauing but two in likenes of her eyes:
But when the Fates so great a change forbade,
In imitation of her red he made
A ruddie night before a ioyfull day,
And by her white he fram'd the milk-white way:
Her golden threeds were so inchaunting faire,
Men scorn'd the Sunne to gaze vpon her haire,
Phœbus asham'd of this immur'd his beames
Within the cincture of the Ocean streames:
Whereat Ioue angrie sent swift Mercurie,
Who to the palace of the Sunne did hie.
Now the Sunnes Court was glorious to behold,
Supported with strong pillers of bright gold,
The top of Iu'ry was, the doores of plate,
Where Vulcan did so liuely imitate
The heau'n, the earth, the sea, the ayre, the flame,
That heau'n, and earth, and sea enui'd the frame.
Thither came Hermes, and with lowring cheare
Cited the Sunne in person to appeare
Before the Gods to tell his cause of stay,
Why he so long did dallie with the sea.
Phœbus obey'd, and when the Gods were met,
And eu'ry one in wonted order set,
A way was made by the fierce God of warre,
And Pluto brought the pris'ner to the barre,
Whom Suada Ioues Sollicitour accus'd,
That he his light and vertue had abus'd,
When Ioue the seale did to his patent fixe,
That he would neuer in one place be found,
But restlesse runne about the massie round:
This solemne oth he had not duly kept,
But in his strumpet Thetis lap had slept.
Here Ioue did Suadaes accusation breake,
And beckning gaue Apollo leaue to speake.
You Gods (quoth he) that here as Iudges sit,
I seeke not to defend my cause by wit,
My chiefest plea is speechlesse eloquence,
Grounded vpon my spotlesse innocence:
Yet if I pleas'd to winne eternall glorie
By the sweete cadence of mine Oratorie,
I could reuiue the dead, and heale the sick
By fluence of celestiall Rhetorick:
The pleasant Musick of the heau'nly spheres
Should pleade my cause to your attentiue eares:
But with plaine termes shall my iust act be tride.
(Who laies on colours doth the substance hide)
I doe not make a night as long as three
To dallie with my loue in iollitie,
(And yet I might as well such dalliance proue,
As Ioue at Thebes for his Alcmenaes loue)
Nor my bright face in liquid teares doe steepe,
Though my sonnes fall haue giu'n me cause to weep:
But on the earth there is a greater light,
Which with her raies doth equall day and night:
Once from my couch I was about to rise,
But straight this brighter lampe strooke blind mine eyes:
My sister Luna when the night drew nie,
Hath been as loth to shew her light as I:
With her two lamps that farre more glorious are:
And my Aurora hides her face away,
Sleeping with her Tithonus all the day,
And when she once beheld this radiant face,
Hath euer since blusht at her owne disgrace:
The Sphæres of Planets with a sudden chaunge
Make her the center of their circled raunge:
And all the heau'nly Orbes doe disagree
What part should oft'st in her Horizon bee:
And mortall men colour and light despise,
Esteeming her the obiect of the eyes:
While she (as women be) proud of her honour,
Makes the night day that men may gaze vpon her:
Ioue hearing this dismist the Court in hast,
And in a sillie shepheards weedes debas't,
Shrowded with clowdes downe from the heau'n did slide,
And piping sate vpon a mountaines side:
(Which Occams rolling current ouer-peares,
Descending from a faire Pastoraes teares,
Who now a marble stone, yet weepeth still
To see her louer changed to a hill,
Whom iealous Phœbus did by force remoue,
Brooking no riuall in his feruent loue,
Framing high pines of his inticing locks,
Changing his teeth to Adamantine rocks)
Thither from heau'n great Ioue did hie apace,
And sate on the transformed shepheards face.
So sweetly sounded his melodious notes,
That sheepe and shepheards in their homely cotes
Daunc't to his layes, and following the sound
Did clime the steepe hill with a solemne round:
Whose snowy neck vied beauties with her face,
(Nor would it in so sweete a combat yield,
Had not her ample forehead wonne the field)
And on that pole doth stand the orbe of loue,
Where Cupid in eccentrick rounds doth moue,
And now from her faire eyes his shafts doth dart,
Then from her lips, and straight from euery part:
Sweet roseall lips, doores to those sacred places,
The gorgeous temples of the glorious graces,
Which gates of Rubie, when they op'ned were,
A shrine of pearle and christall did appeare,
From whence delicious Oracles were spoken,
Which pleasing wonders did to all betoken,
Nor is the murmure of Cecropian Bees,
Nor songs of birds vpon the ayrie trees,
Nor the swift riuer falling downe the steepe,
Lulling poore shepheards with a carelesse sleepe,
(Where Nature with her melodie amazeth
The sillie flocke that on the greene bankes grazeth)
Equiualent with that celestiall sound,
From whence they say Musicke receiu'd her ground:
And first from her did Linus learne to sing,
And with the sweete touch of a pleasing string
Did imitate the playing of the aire
With golden wires of her disheueled haire:
Her countenance was so Angelike bright,
That the pure starres were blinded at her sight,
And euer since their lights so dazled were,
That they were forc't to twinkle in their Sphere:
Her hands were framed like a pretie gin
Ordain'd to catch, and hold all pleasure in:
Yet she her selfe aboue loues wanton reach:
A Coronet she wore, she whilome wonne
Striuing for beautie with the radiant Sunne,
Which mightie Phœbus caus'd the Houres to make
With cunning labour for Leucothoes sake,
This curious worke with Indian pearles was grac't,
Wherein the loues of Gods and men were plac't:
There Neptune in a pretious Margarite
Did woe and winne the beautious Amphitrite:
There Iphis did in humble sort obey
The cruell frownes of Anaxarete:
And Princes loues in arts affections clad,
Excell'd the passions they by nature had.
Thus deckt by art and nature did she come,
Whose feature strook the seeming shepheard dumbe,
Nor could his wau'ring thoughts thēselues containe,
But now left off, and straightway pip'd againe:
Sometimes his notes he with shrill tunes did raise
To chaunt aloud the skipping Roundelaies:
And then againe his lowly voyce did fall
To sing a pleasant homely Pastorall:
And eu'ry song to the Nymphs honour was
Like shepheards musicke to a countrey Lasse:
Lik'ning her eyes vnto the glimsing light,
That guides poore heardsmen to their home at night:
Her haire vnto the golden flowres that grow
Along the fragrant banks of siluer Po:
Her lips to waxe by curious workmanship
Form'd as a paterne to each other lip:
Thus sung he, till the black and shadie night
With vgly forme did feare away the light,
Began to leade the starrie ring about,
(Which durst not in her spangled suite appeare,
As long as mightie Titans light was neere,
By reason of some euerlasting iarres,
That did arise twixt Phœbus and the starres)
Then all the Shepheards wearie of the Sunne,
And glad that the laborious day was done,
Began to driue their tender flocks away,
But Ioue did force this sillie maide to stay,
Telling her stories how the force of loue
Had bow'd the hearts of Gods that dwelt aboue:
How Ioue orecome by this celestiall power,
Deceiu'd poore Danae in a golden shower:
How with laments and teares Apollo rued
Faire Daphnes change, whom he so fast pursued:
Hereat she blusht and to depart she stroue;
But all in vaine against the force of Ioue.
This saw the night and glad she was to see
So fit reuenge for the great iniurie,
Wherewith Ioue wrong'd her at Alcides birth,
Making her watch three daies vpon the earth:
Therefore in hast the darke malicious night
To iealous Iuno doth relate this sight:
Iuno enrag'd with threatning speeches storm'd,
And the poore maide into an herbe transform'd:
Which Ioue perceiuing by a vaine embrace
The infant herbe with heau'nly powers did grace,
And on the night he did inflict this paine,
That while the pleasant Summer did remaine,
The lucklesse night should haue but small command,
But in the frostie winter longest stand.
But ioyning earthly powers, and powers aboue,
Therewith he did adorne this glorious bud,
And fram'd it as a Micro-cosme of good,
Making the ground where this sweet plant did spring
To be a cordiall gainst each noysome thing,
Endu'd with force all euils to asswage,
And now began the famous golden age.
No publike bond of law, no priuate oth
Was needfull to the simple faith and troth:
Each had a censure in his owne consent
Without the feare of death or punishment:
Nor did the busie Client feare his cause,
Nor in strong brasse did they engraue their lawes,
Nor did the doubtfull parties faintly tremble,
While the brib'd Iudge did dreadful looks dissemble:
Then safe from harme the vaunting Pine did stand,
And had no triall of of the Shipwrights hand,
But stood vpon the hill where first it grew,
Nor yet was forc'd another world to view:
Nor vnto greedie Merchants yet were knowne
The shores of any land beyond their owne:
Eu'ry defencelesse Citie then was sure,
Nor could deepe ditches make it more secure:
The harmelesse thoughts of that blest age did beare
No warlike Trumpet, Cornet, Sword, or Speare,
No furious Souldier needed to defend
The carelesse folke, which quiet liues did spend,
Nor did ambitious Captaines know the way
To passe the cliffie shores of their owne sea:
The earth yet free from any forc'd abuse
Brought forth all things fit for each creatures vse,
Vntoucht by harrow, and vncut by share,
And mortall men vpon those meates did feede,
Which of themselues did from the earth proceede,
The mountaine Strawberie, and bitter Sloe,
And Mulberies which on rough boughs doe grow,
And homely Akornes, which did whilom fall
From the high trees, which Ioue his owne doth call:
The pleasant yeare was an eternall spring,
Where Westerne winds continual flowres did bring:
The fertile earth vnmanur'd and vntild,
The bounteous gift of plenteous corne did yeeld:
Nor did the field renew'd each seu'rall yeare
Make windy sounds with many a waightie eare:
Brookes did with Milke, and pleasant Nectar goe,
And yellow hony from the trees did flow:
Al good without constraint, heau'n, sea, men, ground,
No gold, no ship, no law, no plough, no bound.
Till Proserpine by this abused flame,
(Striuing to purchase an immortall name)
Reueng'd with raging fire her ancient spite
On Tellus and the scornefull Amphitrite:
(Which oft had mockt her mansion place of hell,
And call'd it darksome hole, and duskie cell)
Therefore the Furies she in hast commands
To burne the fruitfull earth with fierie brands,
And when their hands such instruments did want,
She made them torches of this sacred plant:
By which they fir'd the world, and that once done,
About the earth in raging sort they runne,
And euer since they by these flames did cause
Famine, dissention, plagues, and breach of lawes.
Least Ioue should know and punish this foule fact:
Therefore she hir'd the Poets long agone
To cast the fault vpon poore Phaëton)
Now when this honour'd herbe was once abus'd,
All paines, all plagues were on the world infus'd,
And then the wicked iron age began,
Shame, truth, and faith from earthly mansions ran,
And in their place came fraud, and cloked vice,
Treason, and force, and impious auarice:
The Mariner whom hope of lucre blinds,
Hasts to the sea vnexpert in the winds,
And trees that long had stood on mountaines high,
As ships vpon the vncouth waues doe lie:
The Merchant then the boistrous sea did plow,
Spite of the frowne of Neptunes angrie brow,
Nor could the horrour of one iourneyes paine
Feare greedie thoughts from ventring so againe:
Neptune then grieued with the wounds and dints,
Which in his face this curious worke emprints,
(And mou'd with Cybels outcries, which did frowne
To see her hils defac'd, and Pines puld downe,
And Natures plaints, whose lawes it had beguil'd)
Made the Sea stormie, which before was mild:
Since which the ribs of broken ships doe show,
What hurts and dangers by this engine grow,
Which makes each fertile countrie want the more,
By seeming Steward of each countries store.
Now did the warie reaper with long bounds
Deuide to portions the vnited grounds,
Which erst were common to each mortall wight,
As is the liquide ayre, or pleasant light:
And daily food, which from the earth was borne,
But to the bowels of their mother sought,
And cursed riches from the center brought,
Which the wise earth had couer'd vnespide,
And neere vnto the Stygian waues did hide.
First then began the phrases, Mine, and Thine:
Pure water turn'd to artificiall wine:
Pleasure vnknowne, and more then simple mirth
Start vp with gold from out the mangled earth:
Then bounds, then contracts at a racking price,
And from those bounds sprung boundlesse auarice:
Then hurtfull steele the workmans hand did feele,
And gold more hurtfull then the hurtfull steele:
And when both these were comen to perfect growth,
Frō thence came warre, that fights with help of both:
Then did the souldier, which in battell stands,
Shake glittring weapons with his bloodie hands:
All liu'd by wrong: each friend his friend did feare,
And brethren seldome linkt in friendship were:
The husband seekes the death of his owne wife,
And she againe grieues at her husbands life:
The angrie stepdames fearfull poysons make,
Which their new husbands hated child may take:
And the sonne wearie of his fathers stay,
Longs for his death before his fatall day.
White Pieties dispersed reliques lie
Conquer'd, and spoil'd of earthly dignitie,
And then Astræa last of heau'nly powers
Forsooke the earth reeking with bloodie showers.
Yet was not vice ascended to the height:
Yet might our pond'rous soules endure the weight
The growth of sinnes perfection wants a day:
Till the fierce Giants of Viperean birth
Made loftie heau'n no more secure then earth,
Seeking Ioues kingdome by presumptuous warres,
Building high mountaines to the trembling starres:
But Ioue the hils did from Olympus tosse,
And cast great Pelion from the top of Osse:
And when the furious Giants thus were kild,
By the great weight which their own hāds did build,
The earth gaue life vnto her childrens blood,
And fram'd them liuing bodies of her mud,
And (least no signe should of her stocke remaine)
She chang'd them to the formes of men againe,
Who not degen'rate from their bloodie birth,
Defi'd the heauen, and defil'd the earth.
Then first ambitious mortals gan to rise,
And with vaine pride did the great Gods despise,
Still warr'd they with the Gods, still had the worst,
And when their hands could do no more, they curst:
Nor could the flood that inward spot deface,
Still it continued in the humane race,
Creeping vnseene, subiecting eu'ry part,
Till it possest our chiefest towre, our hart:
Which thus infected did a battell wage
Gainst the remainders of the golden age.
Then cursed Ate first began her raigne,
And plac't her throne vpon the fluent maine,
Ioying to see the billowes in their pride
Tosse totter'd ships with perill on each side:
Yet sorie Neptune should so largely sup,
And glad againe, when ought he vomits vp.
From the earths center to the heau'nly Queene:
(Which stands aboue the reach of earthly feares,
The lowest of the pure celestiall sphæres)
The fertile earth corrupted by these seedes
Brought forth vnholesome plants, & fruitlesse weeds:
The water not content with her owne bounds,
Vsurpt vpon the neere adiacent grounds:
The ayre infected did infect the breath,
From whence arose the instruments of death:
The fire so hid her selfe, that none could see
Where her abode or proper place should bee:
Then sicknesse came on the infected earth,
Some fell in youth, some perisht in their birth,
And whereas mortals neuer died before,
Till spent with age their lights could burne no more,
Now fathers eyes were made a watrie sourse,
To wash their sonnes graues in prepost'rous course.
And had not the immortall Gods at last,
Pitying the sorrowes sillie men had past,
Cherisht poore soules with their eternall loue,
And sent Apollo Pæan from aboue,
To crosse the purpose which the hag intended,
Long since her malice all the world had ended:
Yet could not carefull Phœbus quite deface
The venome Ate on the earth did place,
Till Aesculapius great Apolloes sonne
(Enuying the glorie shepheard Pan had wonne,
When of his loue transform'd he did inuent
The pleasure of a Musicke instrument)
Descri'd this herbe to our new golden age,
And did deuise a pipe, which should asswage
More then the sound of flutes, and fiddle-sticks,
And by the force thereof (as Poets faine)
Brought torne Hippolytus to life againe,
And watchmen set, and them Phisitians call'd
Men, whom the Muses had before enstall'd,
Whose carefull soules were by this potion fir'd,
And by the power of this sweete herbe inspir'd,
Which by the vertue of their sacred hands
Deliuer'd men from death, and sicknes bands.
Others affirme the Gods were ignorant
Of the confection of so sweet a plant:
For had they knowne this smokes delicious smack,
The vault of heau'n ere this time had been black,
And by the operation of this fume
Been purg'd for euer of her clowdie rheume:
Daintie Ambrosia with a loth'd disdaine
Had been made meate for each milk-pottage-braine:
Ioues Ganymede had neuer smelt of drinke,
The heau'nly Mazers flowing ore the brinke,
Nor fixen Iuno euer broke his head
For spilling Nectar on the gorgeous bed:
Gods would haue reueld at their feasts of mirth
With the pure distillation of the earth,
The marrow of the world, starre of the West,
The pearle, whereby this lower Orbe is blest,
The ioy of mortals, vmpire of all strife,
Delight of nature, Mithridate of life,
The daintiest dish of a delicious feast,
By taking which man differs from a beast.
Thrice happie Isles, which steale the worlds delight,
And doe produce so rich a Margarite:
Had but the old Heroick spirits knowne
The newes, which fame vnto our eares hath blowne,
Colchis, and the remote Hesperides
Had not been sought for halfe so much as these:
Nor had the fluent wits of ancient Greece
Prais'd the rich apples, or the golden fleece:
Nor had Apolloes garland been of bayes,
Nor Homer writ of sweete Nepenthes praise:
Nor had Anacreon with a sugred glose
Extold the vertues of the fragrant Rose:
Nor needed Hermes with his fluent tongue
Haue ioin'd in one a rude vnciuill throng,
And by perswasions made that companie
An order'd Politike societie,
When this dumbe Oratour would more perswade,
Then all the speeches Mercurie had made:
Nor honour'd Ceres been create diuine,
And worshipt so at curious Eleusine,
Whom blinder ages did so much adorne
For the inuention of the vse of corne:
Nor Saturnes feast had been the ioyfull day,
Wherein the Romanes washt their cares away,
But in the honour of great Trinidade
A new Tabacconalia had been made:
Had watrie Neptune knowne the force of this
He had preuail'd, and Athens had been his,
His gift the Oliue would as farre exceed,
As Pallas gift excell'd his trampling steed:
Immortall Chiron had he knowne this leafe,
(Hurt by an arrow of Alcides sheafe)
Had neuer wisht the troden mortall way,
But might haue well been cur'd, and liu'd for aye:
Had foule Thersites with his spitefull hart,
Crook'd in each inward, and each outward part,
By this Elixir been but once refin'd,
He would haue chang'd his bodie, and his mind:
Or had the Bees that Platoes lips did grace,
Suckt hony from this sweete Tabacco-place,
He had surpast, and stain'd himselfe as farre,
As others by his stile obscured are:
With this had Circe in her pleasant caue
Temper'd the potion she Vlysses gaue,
He neuer would haue wisht, that his blest eyes
Might once behold his countries smoke arise:
Had ancient Heralds knowne this sacred plant,
Of which their lucklesse age was ignorant,
When they did giue the worlds most worthie things,
As glorious ensignes to victorious Kings,
Tabacco had been richer armorie,
Then Lions, Crosses, or spread Eaglets be:
Did the French Druids liue, and were obey'd,
Nicot (that first this herbe to France conuey'd)
Should be the God of pleasures and delights,
Worshipt with pompe on Bacchanalian nights,
And in his praise the barb'rous Priests would sing
Vntuned numbers in a iarring string,
Caruing harsh rimes on eu'ry knottie tree,
More crookt and rugged, then the booke could bee,
Sounding in eu'ry homely verse they frame
The treble accent of God Nicots name:
Had the sage Chaldees which did name the stars,
And were the first, and best Astronomers,
Seene the great wonders, which our eyes haue seene,
This plant had then a constellation beene.
Nor had the honour'd Ramme begun the yeare;
Nor the high Northerne pole adorn'd the Beare;
Nor Ioue disgrac'd, nor with his Minions fild
Th' engrauen vault, which first his hands did build:
Our herbe had been a Planet, and indu'd
With light aboue the greatest magnitude,
And when this starre had stood in good aspect
With happie Planets of the best effect,
He, whom the proud world thē to light should bring,
Had been a Poet, or at least a King:
Saturne had neuer brag'd his chariot went
The next vnto the azure firmament:
Nor had the Sunne in his Maiestick pride
Been thron'd with equall Planets on each side:
Nor for high births had the Astrologer
Markt the coniunction of great Iupiter.
Were my quaint polisht tongue my soules best hopes,
And grac't with figures, colours, schemes, and tropes,
This herbe would surpasse in excellence
The great'st Hyperboles of eloquence:
Yet this sweete simple by misordred vse
Death or some dang'rous sicknesse may induce,
Should we not for our sustentation eate,
Because a surfet comes from too much meate?
Should we not thirst with mod'rate drinke represse,
Because a dropsie springs from such excesse?
Should we not take some holesome exercise
To chafe our vaines, and stretch our arteries,
Because abus'd in a laborious kind
It hurts the bodie, and amates the mind?
So our faire plant, that doth as needfull stand,
As heau'n, or fire, or aire, or sea, or land,
As Moone, or Starres, that rule the gloomie night,
Or Tullies friendship, or the Sunnie light,
Her sacred vertue in her selfe enroules,
And leaues the euill in vaine-glorious soules,
And yet who dyes cloid with celestiall breath,
Shall dye with ioy a Diagorian death.
All goods, all pleasures it in one doth linke,
Tis Phisick, clothing, Musick, meate and drinke:
It makes the hungrie soules forget their wants,
And nimbly daunce like skipping Corybants:
By force of this Timon that odious beast
Would haue turn'd iester at each solemne feast,
And by one draught of this Americk grape
Haue been Laberius or Sarmentus ape:
Nor would the Cynick in his homely tunne
Haue askt the shining of the gen'rall Sunne,
But had he then this herbes great vertues knowne,
He would haue beg'd it of the Macedone.
The Faunes and Satyres which doe lightly praunce,
The beasts that after Orpheus musick daunce,
At sight of this would haue forgot the sound,
The Ecchoes would no more the voice rebound,
Orpheus himselfe would haue forsooke his Lute,
And altogether stood amaz'd, and mute.
The lumpish Stoicks, which did thus decree,
A mortall man might without passion bee,
Had they once cast their carelesse eyes on this,
Would soone haue showne what humane nature is:
The Epicureans, whose chiefe good was plac't
In earthly pleasures vaine voluptuous tast,
Had our Tabacco in their daies been found,
Had built their frame on a more likely ground.
Pyrrho that held all by opinion stood,
Would haue affirm'd this were by nature good:
The rude Laconians, whom Lycurgus care
Barr'd from the traffick of exotick ware,
Had Malea been with such a treasure fraught,
Would haue esteem'd their strictest acts at nought,
And with a slight pretence, or fained cause,
Haue crackt the credit of their cobweb lawes.
When eloquent Hegesias caus'd men die
With disputation of liues miserie,
Had this life-giuing pleasant potion then
Been once imparted to those desp'rate men,
It would haue sooner forced them to liue,
Then the commaunds great Ptolomie could giue:
Had Phœbus Hyacinth, or faire Narcissus,
Venus Adonis, or sweete Cyparissus,
By the propitious Gods been turn'd to this,
Happie had been their Metamorphosis:
Yet it may be to this they were not turn'd,
Because their louers grieu'd to see them burn'd:
This is the Opium, which the Turks doe take,
When they their hearts would light & iocund make:
By this Medea did her drinke compose,
Which AEson did from aged bonds vnlose:
You finde not a diuiner herbe then this,
In all Albertus de miraculis:
Or the huge Herbals, which vaine fooles obey,
In Porta, Fuchsius, and great Dodoney:
In it Phisitians haue no skill at all,
It is an essence Metaphysicall,
Nor is a thing so exquisite, so pure,
Compos'd of any common temp'rature:
Nor can the Scepticks, or Empiricks see
This herbs great vertue, nature and degree:
Who takes this med'cine need not greatly care,
Who Galenists, who Paracelsians are:
Nor need he seeke their Rosaries, their Summes,
Their Secrets, their Dispensatoriums:
Nor fill his pocket with their costly bils,
Nor stuffe his maw with their vnsau'ry pils,
Nor make huge pitfals in his tender vaines,
With thousand other more then hellish paines,
But by this herbes celestiall qualitie
May keepe his health in mirth and iollitie:
It is the fountaine whence all pleasure springs,
A potion for imperiall crowned Kings:
He that is master of so rich a store,
May laugh at Crœsus, and esteeme him poore,
And with his smokie scepter in his fist
Securely flout the toyling Alchymist,
Who daily labours with a vaine expence
In distillations of the quint-essence,
Not knowing, that this golden herbe alone
Is the Philosophers admired stone:
It is your gallants med'cine singular,
As Possets to the wearied Ploughman are:
Alcinous trees, nor the Isles fortunate
Cannot afford so sweet a delicate:
Teucer had neuer purg'd his cares with wine,
Had he but dream't of Phisick so diuine:
Nor Bacchus had been Patrone of delight,
Nor gouern'd Tigers with his princely might,
Nor conquer'd all the nations of the earth,
Because he tam'd their sauage minds with mirth:
Nor had
Mercuriall, or herbe Gentiane
The glorious names of Gods, or Princes tane:
Moly of which the Prince of Poets wrote,
Spaines Triacle, or the strongest Antidote,
Is not so good against a Magicke spell,
Nor deadly poyson from th' heart t'expell,
As our most glorious plant: which had it beene
In ancient times, and famous ages seene,
The fruitfull Oliue, and sweet-smelling Bayes
Had neuer been the signes of peace, and praise:
Long since the blessed Thistle, and Herbe-grace
Had lost their names, and been accounted base,
Had great Tabacco pleas'd to shew her powers,
As now she doth in this blest age of ours,
Blest age, wherein the Indian Sunne had shin'd,
Whereby all Arts, all tongues haue been refin'd:
Learning long buried in the darke abysme
Of dunsticall, and monkish barbarisme,
When once this herbe by carefull paines was found,
Sprung vp like Cadmus followers from the ground,
Which Muses visitation bindeth vs,
More to great Cortez, and Vespucius,
Then to our wittie Mores immortall name,
To Valla, or the learned Rott'rodame:
And our poore tongue, which long had barren laine,
Wanting the fall of sweete Parnassian raine,
Was lightned by this Planets radiant beames,
Which rising from the Westerne ocean streames,
Melteth the drie clowdes to celestiall showres,
And on our heads those heau'nly fountaines powres:
Had the Castalian Muses knowne the place,
Which this Ambrosia did with honour grace,
They would haue left Parnassus long agoe,
And chang'd their Phocis for Wingandekoe;
Yet it may be the people voide of sense,
With sauage rites, and manners fear'd them thence:
But our more glorious Nymph, our moderne Muse,
Which life and light doth to the North infuse,
Which doth with ioint and mutuall honour grace
Her place with learning, learning with her place:
In whose respect the Muses barb'rous are,
The Graces rude, nor is the Phœnix rare:
Which farre exceedes her predecessours facts,
Nor are their wondrous acts, now wondrous acts:
Which by her wisdome, and her Princely powers
Defends the walles of Albions cliffie towers,
Hath vncontrol'd stretcht out her mightie hand
Ouer Virginia, and the New-found-land,
And spread the Colours of our English Rose
In the farre countries, where Tabacco growes,
And tam'd the sauage nations of the West,
Which of this iewell were in vaine possest:
Nor is it maruaile that this pretious gem
Is thus beset with beasts, and kept by them,
When it is likely, that almightie Ioue,
By such fierce keepers to obscure it stroue,
Bearing against it an immortall hate,
As the gainsayer of eternall fate:
Besides a thousand dangers circle round,
What euer good within this world is found,
Least mortals should no worke, nor trade professe,
But spend their daies in lust, and idlenesse:
And least their fickle thoughts should soone disdaine
The things they got but with a little paine:
Therefore best fruites are couer'd with hard shels,
The sweetest water is in deepest wels,
And Indian Ants as big as Mastiues hold
A place most fertile of desired gold,
Sicile the garner of the earth, her pride
Hath Scylla and Charybdis on each side,
And in times past had a plague worse then these,
Of the fierce Cyclops and Læstrygones,
The horride Dragon, which did neuer sleepe,
The Orchard of the golden fruite did keepe,
And in the countries, which be hot and drie,
The dreadfull beasts about the fountaines lie,
And Gotthish Spaniards haue the royaltie,
Where glorious gold, and rich Tabacco be,
A nation worse then the Læstrygones,
And farre more sauage then the Sauages:
Yet doth not this diuine Tabacco soile,
Which shines like a bright Diamond in a foile,
And doth as farre excell the golden graines,
As gold the brasse, or siluer pewter staines,
Although the Chymists say, our mother beares
Gold in her wombe so many thousand yeares,
Ere she can perfect what she hath begunne,
And bring to full growth that terrestriall Sunne:
And though the Theban Lyrick crown'd with bayes
Begins his Odes with that sweet mettals praise,
Yet counteruailes it not this herbs desart,
But only shares a yonger brothers part:
For this our praised plant on high doth sore
Aboue the baser drosse of earthly ore,
Like the braue spirit, and ambitious mind,
Whose Eaglets eyes the Sunne-beames cannot blind,
Nor can the clog of pouertie depresse
Such soules in base, and natiue lowlinesse,
But proudly scorning to behold the earth,
They leape at Crownes, and reach aboue their birth:
Despised mud sinkes to the center straight,
But worthie things will striue to get on height:
So our sweete herbe all earthly drosse doth hate,
Though in the earth both nourisht, and create,
And as the nature is of smoke, and fire
Leaues this low orbe, and labours to aspire
Wrapt in the cincture of her smokie shroudes,
Mixing her vapours with the ayrie cloudes,
And from these fumes ascending to the skies,
Some say the dewes, and gentle showres arise,
And from the fire thereof the Cyclops stroue
To frame the mightie thunderbolts of Ioue:
This is a sauour which the Gods doth please,
If they doe feed on smoke (as Lucian sayes)
Therefore the cause that the bright Sunne doth rest
At the low point of the declining West,
When his oft-wearied horses breathlesse pant,
Is to refresh himselfe with this sweet plant,
Which wanton Thetis from the West doth bring,
To ioy her loue after his toilesome ring:
For 'tis a cordiall for an inward smart,
As is Dictamnum to the wounded Hart:
It is the sponge that wipes out all our woe;
'Tis like the thorne that doth on Pelion grow,
With which who-ere his frostie limbes anoints,
Shall feele no cold in his benummed ioints;
'Tis like the riuer, which who ere doth tast,
Forgets his present griefes and sorrowes past:
Musick, which causeth vexed thoughts retire,
And for a while cease their tormenting fire:
Musick the prize, which when the eares haue stole,
They doe conuey it to th' attentiue soule:
Musick, which forceth beasts to stand at gaze,
And doth the rude and senselesse soules amaze:
Compar'd to this, is like delicious strings,
Which sound but harshly while Apollo sings:
The braine with this infum'd all quarrell ends,
Tullie and Clodius will be faithfull friends,
And like another Crassus one carouse
Will linke againe Pompey, and Cæsars house,
And quickly stint the inhumane designes
Of furious Guelphes, and warlike Gibellines.
The man that shall this smokie Magick proue,
Shall need no Philters to obtaine his loue,
But shall be deckt with farre more pleasing grace,
Then ere was Nireus or Narcissus face.
Here could I tell you, how vpon the seas
Some men haue fasted with it fortie daies:
How those, to whom Plinie no mouths did giue,
Doe only on diuine Tabacco liue:
How Andron, which did passe the Lybian sands
Vnto the place where Hammons Temple stands,
And neuer dranke, nor was he euer dry,
Supprest the heate of raging thirst thereby:
How a dull Cynick by the force of it
Hath got a pleasing gesture, and good wit:
How sparing Demea whom the Comick chaung'd,
By this was from his former selfe estraung'd:
How many Cowards base and recreant,
By one pipes draught were turned valiant,
And after in an artificiall mist
Haue ouerthrowne their foes before they wist:
How one that dreamt of a Tabacco roll,
Though sick before, was straight made perfect whole
Peace pratling Muse, offend sage eares no more,
Die in the seas which canst not get the shore,
And sinke, as ouerwhelm'd with too much matter,
Least telling all the world should thinke thee flatter:
Doe not, like curious Plinie, seeke to know,
Whence the earths smoke, and secret flames do grow,
Least this immortall fire, and sacred fume,
Like to Vesuuius doe thy powers consume:
But clok'd with vapours of a duskie hue,
Bid both the world and thy sweet herbe Adue.
Of the confection of so sweet a plant:
For had they knowne this smokes delicious smack,
The vault of heau'n ere this time had been black,
And by the operation of this fume
Been purg'd for euer of her clowdie rheume:
Daintie Ambrosia with a loth'd disdaine
Had been made meate for each milk-pottage-braine:
Ioues Ganymede had neuer smelt of drinke,
The heau'nly Mazers flowing ore the brinke,
Nor fixen Iuno euer broke his head
For spilling Nectar on the gorgeous bed:
Gods would haue reueld at their feasts of mirth
With the pure distillation of the earth,
The marrow of the world, starre of the West,
The pearle, whereby this lower Orbe is blest,
The ioy of mortals, vmpire of all strife,
Delight of nature, Mithridate of life,
The daintiest dish of a delicious feast,
By taking which man differs from a beast.
Thrice happie Isles, which steale the worlds delight,
And doe produce so rich a Margarite:
The newes, which fame vnto our eares hath blowne,
Colchis, and the remote Hesperides
Had not been sought for halfe so much as these:
Nor had the fluent wits of ancient Greece
Prais'd the rich apples, or the golden fleece:
Nor had Apolloes garland been of bayes,
Nor Homer writ of sweete Nepenthes praise:
Nor had Anacreon with a sugred glose
Extold the vertues of the fragrant Rose:
Nor needed Hermes with his fluent tongue
Haue ioin'd in one a rude vnciuill throng,
And by perswasions made that companie
An order'd Politike societie,
When this dumbe Oratour would more perswade,
Then all the speeches Mercurie had made:
Nor honour'd Ceres been create diuine,
And worshipt so at curious Eleusine,
Whom blinder ages did so much adorne
For the inuention of the vse of corne:
Nor Saturnes feast had been the ioyfull day,
Wherein the Romanes washt their cares away,
But in the honour of great Trinidade
A new Tabacconalia had been made:
Had watrie Neptune knowne the force of this
He had preuail'd, and Athens had been his,
His gift the Oliue would as farre exceed,
As Pallas gift excell'd his trampling steed:
Immortall Chiron had he knowne this leafe,
(Hurt by an arrow of Alcides sheafe)
Had neuer wisht the troden mortall way,
But might haue well been cur'd, and liu'd for aye:
Crook'd in each inward, and each outward part,
By this Elixir been but once refin'd,
He would haue chang'd his bodie, and his mind:
Or had the Bees that Platoes lips did grace,
Suckt hony from this sweete Tabacco-place,
He had surpast, and stain'd himselfe as farre,
As others by his stile obscured are:
With this had Circe in her pleasant caue
Temper'd the potion she Vlysses gaue,
He neuer would haue wisht, that his blest eyes
Might once behold his countries smoke arise:
Had ancient Heralds knowne this sacred plant,
Of which their lucklesse age was ignorant,
When they did giue the worlds most worthie things,
As glorious ensignes to victorious Kings,
Tabacco had been richer armorie,
Then Lions, Crosses, or spread Eaglets be:
Did the French Druids liue, and were obey'd,
Nicot (that first this herbe to France conuey'd)
Should be the God of pleasures and delights,
Worshipt with pompe on Bacchanalian nights,
And in his praise the barb'rous Priests would sing
Vntuned numbers in a iarring string,
Caruing harsh rimes on eu'ry knottie tree,
More crookt and rugged, then the booke could bee,
Sounding in eu'ry homely verse they frame
The treble accent of God Nicots name:
Had the sage Chaldees which did name the stars,
And were the first, and best Astronomers,
Seene the great wonders, which our eyes haue seene,
This plant had then a constellation beene.
Nor the high Northerne pole adorn'd the Beare;
Nor Ioue disgrac'd, nor with his Minions fild
Th' engrauen vault, which first his hands did build:
Our herbe had been a Planet, and indu'd
With light aboue the greatest magnitude,
And when this starre had stood in good aspect
With happie Planets of the best effect,
He, whom the proud world thē to light should bring,
Had been a Poet, or at least a King:
Saturne had neuer brag'd his chariot went
The next vnto the azure firmament:
Nor had the Sunne in his Maiestick pride
Been thron'd with equall Planets on each side:
Nor for high births had the Astrologer
Markt the coniunction of great Iupiter.
Were my quaint polisht tongue my soules best hopes,
And grac't with figures, colours, schemes, and tropes,
This herbe would surpasse in excellence
The great'st Hyperboles of eloquence:
Yet this sweete simple by misordred vse
Death or some dang'rous sicknesse may induce,
Should we not for our sustentation eate,
Because a surfet comes from too much meate?
Should we not thirst with mod'rate drinke represse,
Because a dropsie springs from such excesse?
Should we not take some holesome exercise
To chafe our vaines, and stretch our arteries,
Because abus'd in a laborious kind
It hurts the bodie, and amates the mind?
So our faire plant, that doth as needfull stand,
As heau'n, or fire, or aire, or sea, or land,
Or Tullies friendship, or the Sunnie light,
Her sacred vertue in her selfe enroules,
And leaues the euill in vaine-glorious soules,
And yet who dyes cloid with celestiall breath,
Shall dye with ioy a Diagorian death.
All goods, all pleasures it in one doth linke,
Tis Phisick, clothing, Musick, meate and drinke:
It makes the hungrie soules forget their wants,
And nimbly daunce like skipping Corybants:
By force of this Timon that odious beast
Would haue turn'd iester at each solemne feast,
And by one draught of this Americk grape
Haue been Laberius or Sarmentus ape:
Nor would the Cynick in his homely tunne
Haue askt the shining of the gen'rall Sunne,
But had he then this herbes great vertues knowne,
He would haue beg'd it of the Macedone.
The Faunes and Satyres which doe lightly praunce,
The beasts that after Orpheus musick daunce,
At sight of this would haue forgot the sound,
The Ecchoes would no more the voice rebound,
Orpheus himselfe would haue forsooke his Lute,
And altogether stood amaz'd, and mute.
The lumpish Stoicks, which did thus decree,
A mortall man might without passion bee,
Had they once cast their carelesse eyes on this,
Would soone haue showne what humane nature is:
The Epicureans, whose chiefe good was plac't
In earthly pleasures vaine voluptuous tast,
Had our Tabacco in their daies been found,
Had built their frame on a more likely ground.
Would haue affirm'd this were by nature good:
The rude Laconians, whom Lycurgus care
Barr'd from the traffick of exotick ware,
Had Malea been with such a treasure fraught,
Would haue esteem'd their strictest acts at nought,
And with a slight pretence, or fained cause,
Haue crackt the credit of their cobweb lawes.
When eloquent Hegesias caus'd men die
With disputation of liues miserie,
Had this life-giuing pleasant potion then
Been once imparted to those desp'rate men,
It would haue sooner forced them to liue,
Then the commaunds great Ptolomie could giue:
Had Phœbus Hyacinth, or faire Narcissus,
Venus Adonis, or sweete Cyparissus,
By the propitious Gods been turn'd to this,
Happie had been their Metamorphosis:
Yet it may be to this they were not turn'd,
Because their louers grieu'd to see them burn'd:
This is the Opium, which the Turks doe take,
When they their hearts would light & iocund make:
By this Medea did her drinke compose,
Which AEson did from aged bonds vnlose:
You finde not a diuiner herbe then this,
In all Albertus de miraculis:
Or the huge Herbals, which vaine fooles obey,
In Porta, Fuchsius, and great Dodoney:
In it Phisitians haue no skill at all,
It is an essence Metaphysicall,
Nor is a thing so exquisite, so pure,
Compos'd of any common temp'rature:
This herbs great vertue, nature and degree:
Who takes this med'cine need not greatly care,
Who Galenists, who Paracelsians are:
Nor need he seeke their Rosaries, their Summes,
Their Secrets, their Dispensatoriums:
Nor fill his pocket with their costly bils,
Nor stuffe his maw with their vnsau'ry pils,
Nor make huge pitfals in his tender vaines,
With thousand other more then hellish paines,
But by this herbes celestiall qualitie
May keepe his health in mirth and iollitie:
It is the fountaine whence all pleasure springs,
A potion for imperiall crowned Kings:
He that is master of so rich a store,
May laugh at Crœsus, and esteeme him poore,
And with his smokie scepter in his fist
Securely flout the toyling Alchymist,
Who daily labours with a vaine expence
In distillations of the quint-essence,
Not knowing, that this golden herbe alone
Is the Philosophers admired stone:
It is your gallants med'cine singular,
As Possets to the wearied Ploughman are:
Alcinous trees, nor the Isles fortunate
Cannot afford so sweet a delicate:
Teucer had neuer purg'd his cares with wine,
Had he but dream't of Phisick so diuine:
Nor Bacchus had been Patrone of delight,
Nor gouern'd Tigers with his princely might,
Nor conquer'd all the nations of the earth,
Because he tam'd their sauage minds with mirth:
The glorious names of Gods, or Princes tane:
Moly of which the Prince of Poets wrote,
Spaines Triacle, or the strongest Antidote,
Is not so good against a Magicke spell,
Nor deadly poyson from th' heart t'expell,
As our most glorious plant: which had it beene
In ancient times, and famous ages seene,
The fruitfull Oliue, and sweet-smelling Bayes
Had neuer been the signes of peace, and praise:
Long since the blessed Thistle, and Herbe-grace
Had lost their names, and been accounted base,
Had great Tabacco pleas'd to shew her powers,
As now she doth in this blest age of ours,
Blest age, wherein the Indian Sunne had shin'd,
Whereby all Arts, all tongues haue been refin'd:
Learning long buried in the darke abysme
Of dunsticall, and monkish barbarisme,
When once this herbe by carefull paines was found,
Sprung vp like Cadmus followers from the ground,
Which Muses visitation bindeth vs,
More to great Cortez, and Vespucius,
Then to our wittie Mores immortall name,
To Valla, or the learned Rott'rodame:
And our poore tongue, which long had barren laine,
Wanting the fall of sweete Parnassian raine,
Was lightned by this Planets radiant beames,
Which rising from the Westerne ocean streames,
Melteth the drie clowdes to celestiall showres,
And on our heads those heau'nly fountaines powres:
Had the Castalian Muses knowne the place,
Which this Ambrosia did with honour grace,
And chang'd their Phocis for Wingandekoe;
Yet it may be the people voide of sense,
With sauage rites, and manners fear'd them thence:
But our more glorious Nymph, our moderne Muse,
Which life and light doth to the North infuse,
Which doth with ioint and mutuall honour grace
Her place with learning, learning with her place:
In whose respect the Muses barb'rous are,
The Graces rude, nor is the Phœnix rare:
Which farre exceedes her predecessours facts,
Nor are their wondrous acts, now wondrous acts:
Which by her wisdome, and her Princely powers
Defends the walles of Albions cliffie towers,
Hath vncontrol'd stretcht out her mightie hand
Ouer Virginia, and the New-found-land,
And spread the Colours of our English Rose
In the farre countries, where Tabacco growes,
And tam'd the sauage nations of the West,
Which of this iewell were in vaine possest:
Nor is it maruaile that this pretious gem
Is thus beset with beasts, and kept by them,
When it is likely, that almightie Ioue,
By such fierce keepers to obscure it stroue,
Bearing against it an immortall hate,
As the gainsayer of eternall fate:
Besides a thousand dangers circle round,
What euer good within this world is found,
Least mortals should no worke, nor trade professe,
But spend their daies in lust, and idlenesse:
And least their fickle thoughts should soone disdaine
The things they got but with a little paine:
The sweetest water is in deepest wels,
And Indian Ants as big as Mastiues hold
A place most fertile of desired gold,
Sicile the garner of the earth, her pride
Hath Scylla and Charybdis on each side,
And in times past had a plague worse then these,
Of the fierce Cyclops and Læstrygones,
The horride Dragon, which did neuer sleepe,
The Orchard of the golden fruite did keepe,
And in the countries, which be hot and drie,
The dreadfull beasts about the fountaines lie,
And Gotthish Spaniards haue the royaltie,
Where glorious gold, and rich Tabacco be,
A nation worse then the Læstrygones,
And farre more sauage then the Sauages:
Yet doth not this diuine Tabacco soile,
Which shines like a bright Diamond in a foile,
And doth as farre excell the golden graines,
As gold the brasse, or siluer pewter staines,
Although the Chymists say, our mother beares
Gold in her wombe so many thousand yeares,
Ere she can perfect what she hath begunne,
And bring to full growth that terrestriall Sunne:
And though the Theban Lyrick crown'd with bayes
Begins his Odes with that sweet mettals praise,
Yet counteruailes it not this herbs desart,
But only shares a yonger brothers part:
For this our praised plant on high doth sore
Aboue the baser drosse of earthly ore,
Like the braue spirit, and ambitious mind,
Whose Eaglets eyes the Sunne-beames cannot blind,
Such soules in base, and natiue lowlinesse,
But proudly scorning to behold the earth,
They leape at Crownes, and reach aboue their birth:
Despised mud sinkes to the center straight,
But worthie things will striue to get on height:
So our sweete herbe all earthly drosse doth hate,
Though in the earth both nourisht, and create,
And as the nature is of smoke, and fire
Leaues this low orbe, and labours to aspire
Wrapt in the cincture of her smokie shroudes,
Mixing her vapours with the ayrie cloudes,
And from these fumes ascending to the skies,
Some say the dewes, and gentle showres arise,
And from the fire thereof the Cyclops stroue
To frame the mightie thunderbolts of Ioue:
This is a sauour which the Gods doth please,
If they doe feed on smoke (as Lucian sayes)
Therefore the cause that the bright Sunne doth rest
At the low point of the declining West,
When his oft-wearied horses breathlesse pant,
Is to refresh himselfe with this sweet plant,
Which wanton Thetis from the West doth bring,
To ioy her loue after his toilesome ring:
For 'tis a cordiall for an inward smart,
As is Dictamnum to the wounded Hart:
It is the sponge that wipes out all our woe;
'Tis like the thorne that doth on Pelion grow,
With which who-ere his frostie limbes anoints,
Shall feele no cold in his benummed ioints;
'Tis like the riuer, which who ere doth tast,
Forgets his present griefes and sorrowes past:
And for a while cease their tormenting fire:
Musick the prize, which when the eares haue stole,
They doe conuey it to th' attentiue soule:
Musick, which forceth beasts to stand at gaze,
And doth the rude and senselesse soules amaze:
Compar'd to this, is like delicious strings,
Which sound but harshly while Apollo sings:
The braine with this infum'd all quarrell ends,
Tullie and Clodius will be faithfull friends,
And like another Crassus one carouse
Will linke againe Pompey, and Cæsars house,
And quickly stint the inhumane designes
Of furious Guelphes, and warlike Gibellines.
The man that shall this smokie Magick proue,
Shall need no Philters to obtaine his loue,
But shall be deckt with farre more pleasing grace,
Then ere was Nireus or Narcissus face.
Here could I tell you, how vpon the seas
Some men haue fasted with it fortie daies:
How those, to whom Plinie no mouths did giue,
Doe only on diuine Tabacco liue:
How Andron, which did passe the Lybian sands
Vnto the place where Hammons Temple stands,
And neuer dranke, nor was he euer dry,
Supprest the heate of raging thirst thereby:
How a dull Cynick by the force of it
Hath got a pleasing gesture, and good wit:
How sparing Demea whom the Comick chaung'd,
By this was from his former selfe estraung'd:
How many Cowards base and recreant,
By one pipes draught were turned valiant,
Haue ouerthrowne their foes before they wist:
How one that dreamt of a Tabacco roll,
Though sick before, was straight made perfect whole
Peace pratling Muse, offend sage eares no more,
Die in the seas which canst not get the shore,
And sinke, as ouerwhelm'd with too much matter,
Least telling all the world should thinke thee flatter:
Doe not, like curious Plinie, seeke to know,
Whence the earths smoke, and secret flames do grow,
Least this immortall fire, and sacred fume,
Like to Vesuuius doe thy powers consume:
But clok'd with vapours of a duskie hue,
Bid both the world and thy sweet herbe Adue.
ιεμενος και καπνον αποθρωσκοντα νοησας.
FINIS.
| The Metamorphosis of Tabacco | |