The works of Sr William Davenant ... Consisting of Those which were formerly Printed, and Those which he design'd for the Press: Now published Out of the Authors Originall Copies |
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Jeffereidos, on the Captivity of Jeffery.
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 | The works of Sr William Davenant |  |
Jeffereidos, on the Captivity of Jeffery.
Canto the First.
A sayle! a sayle! cry'd they, who did consent
Once more to break the eighth Commandement
For a few Coles, of which by theft so well
Th'are stor'd; they have enow to furnish Hell
With penal heat, though each sad Devil there
A frozen Muscovite, or Russian were;
The chace grew swift, whilst an old weary Pinke,
Not us'd to fly, and somewhat loth to sinke,
Did yield unto the Foe, who boards her strait:
And having rifled all her precious Freight;
A trembling Britaine kneels, and did beseech
Each composition there, of Tar and Pitch,
That they would hear him speak: 'tis not (quoth he)
Our kind respect to wealth, or libertie,
Begets this fear, but least blind fortune may
Unto some fierce, unruly hand betray,
The truest Servant to a state, that cou'd
Be giv'n a Nation out of flesh and blood:
And he tall Jeffery hight! who not much us'd
To fights at Sea, and loth to be abus'd,
Resolv'd to hide him, where they sooner might
Discover him, with smelling than with sight.
Once more to break the eighth Commandement
For a few Coles, of which by theft so well
Th'are stor'd; they have enow to furnish Hell
With penal heat, though each sad Devil there
A frozen Muscovite, or Russian were;
The chace grew swift, whilst an old weary Pinke,
Not us'd to fly, and somewhat loth to sinke,
Did yield unto the Foe, who boards her strait:
And having rifled all her precious Freight;
A trembling Britaine kneels, and did beseech
Each composition there, of Tar and Pitch,
That they would hear him speak: 'tis not (quoth he)
Our kind respect to wealth, or libertie,
Begets this fear, but least blind fortune may
Unto some fierce, unruly hand betray,
225
Be giv'n a Nation out of flesh and blood:
And he tall Jeffery hight! who not much us'd
To fights at Sea, and loth to be abus'd,
Resolv'd to hide him, where they sooner might
Discover him, with smelling than with sight.
Each Eye was now imploy'd, no man could think
Of any uncouth Nooke, or narrow Chinke,
But strait they sought him there; in holes not deep
But small, where slender Magot's us'd to creep:
At last, they found him close, beneath a spick
And almost span-new-peuter-Candlestick.
A crafty Diego, that had now command
Of Ships and Victorie, took him in hand:
Peis'd him twice, tasted his discourse, at length
Believ'd, that he dissembled wit, and strength:
Quoth he, Victors, and Vanquished! I bid
You all give ear, to wisdom of Madrid!
This that appears to you, a walking Thumbe,
May prove, the gen'ral Spie of Christendome:
Then calls for Chaines, but such as fitting seeme
For Elephants, when manag'd in a Teeme.
Whilst puissant Jefferey 'gins to wish (in vaine)
He had long since contriv'd a truce with Spaine
His Sinews faile him now: nor doth he yield
Much trust unto his Buckler, or his Shield;
Yet threatens like a second Tamberlaine,
To bring them 'fore the Queens Lord-Chamberlaine;
Because without the leave, of him, or her,
They keep her Houshold-Servant prisoner.
Of any uncouth Nooke, or narrow Chinke,
But strait they sought him there; in holes not deep
But small, where slender Magot's us'd to creep:
At last, they found him close, beneath a spick
And almost span-new-peuter-Candlestick.
A crafty Diego, that had now command
Of Ships and Victorie, took him in hand:
Peis'd him twice, tasted his discourse, at length
Believ'd, that he dissembled wit, and strength:
Quoth he, Victors, and Vanquished! I bid
You all give ear, to wisdom of Madrid!
This that appears to you, a walking Thumbe,
May prove, the gen'ral Spie of Christendome:
Then calls for Chaines, but such as fitting seeme
For Elephants, when manag'd in a Teeme.
Whilst puissant Jefferey 'gins to wish (in vaine)
He had long since contriv'd a truce with Spaine
His Sinews faile him now: nor doth he yield
Much trust unto his Buckler, or his Shield;
Yet threatens like a second Tamberlaine,
To bring them 'fore the Queens Lord-Chamberlaine;
Because without the leave, of him, or her,
They keep her Houshold-Servant prisoner.
Diego, that study'd wrath, more than remorse,
Commands, that they to Dunkirke steer their course:
Whilst Captive-Jeffrey shews to wiser sight,
Just like a melancholy Isralite,
In midst of's journey unto Babylon;
Melt marble hearts, that chance to think thereon!
The winds are guilty too; for now behold!
Already landed this our Brittaine bold!
The people view him round; some take their oath
He's humaine Issue, but not yet of growth:
And others (that more sub'tly did confer)
Think him a small, contracted Conjurer:
Then Diego, Bredro, names! Hemskerke! and cryes,
Hansvan Geulick! Derick too! place your Thighs
On this judicial Bench, that we may sit
T' undoe, this short Embassadour with wit.
One faine would know's descent: Thou Pirat-Dogge
(The wrathful Captive then reply'd) not Ogge
(The Bashan King) was my Progenitor;
Nor did I strive, to fetch my Ancestor
From Aneck's Sonnes, nor from the Genitals
Of wrastling-Cacus, who gave many falls.
No matter for his birth, said Diego then;
Bring hither strait the Rack! for it is Ten
To one, this will inforce from out his Pate,
Some secrets, that concern the English State,
But O! true, loyal Heart! he'd not one word
Reveale, that he had heard at Councel-bord.
Some ask'd him then, his bus'ness late in France;
What Instruments lay there conceal'd t'advance
The British cause? when they perceiv'd his heart;
Was big and whilst enforc'd, would nought impart
Diego arose, and said, Sir, I beseech you,
Acquaint us if the Cardinal de Richelieu
Intends a war in Italy, or no?
(Most noble Jeffery still!) he seems to know
Nought of that point; though divers think, when there,
The Cardinal did whisper in his eare
The Scheame of all his plots; and sought to gaine
His company along with him to Spaine;
For thither he'll march, if he can by th' way
Sweep a few durty Nations into th' Sea.
Commands, that they to Dunkirke steer their course:
Whilst Captive-Jeffrey shews to wiser sight,
Just like a melancholy Isralite,
In midst of's journey unto Babylon;
Melt marble hearts, that chance to think thereon!
The winds are guilty too; for now behold!
Already landed this our Brittaine bold!
The people view him round; some take their oath
He's humaine Issue, but not yet of growth:
And others (that more sub'tly did confer)
Think him a small, contracted Conjurer:
Then Diego, Bredro, names! Hemskerke! and cryes,
Hansvan Geulick! Derick too! place your Thighs
On this judicial Bench, that we may sit
T' undoe, this short Embassadour with wit.
One faine would know's descent: Thou Pirat-Dogge
(The wrathful Captive then reply'd) not Ogge
(The Bashan King) was my Progenitor;
Nor did I strive, to fetch my Ancestor
From Aneck's Sonnes, nor from the Genitals
Of wrastling-Cacus, who gave many falls.
226
Bring hither strait the Rack! for it is Ten
To one, this will inforce from out his Pate,
Some secrets, that concern the English State,
But O! true, loyal Heart! he'd not one word
Reveale, that he had heard at Councel-bord.
Some ask'd him then, his bus'ness late in France;
What Instruments lay there conceal'd t'advance
The British cause? when they perceiv'd his heart;
Was big and whilst enforc'd, would nought impart
Diego arose, and said, Sir, I beseech you,
Acquaint us if the Cardinal de Richelieu
Intends a war in Italy, or no?
(Most noble Jeffery still!) he seems to know
Nought of that point; though divers think, when there,
The Cardinal did whisper in his eare
The Scheame of all his plots; and sought to gaine
His company along with him to Spaine;
For thither he'll march, if he can by th' way
Sweep a few durty Nations into th' Sea.
A solemn Monke, that silent stood close by,
Believ'd this little Captive, a Church-Spie!
Quoth he, that shrivled face, hath Schysme in it;
And lately ther's a learned volumne writ,
Wherein Ben-Jharky and Ben-Ezra too,
And Rabin Kimky eke, a learned Jew,
Are cited all, it labours to make good,
That there were Protestants before the Flood;
And thou its Author art; Jeffery swore then,
He never knew those Hebrew Gentlemen!
When they perceiv'd, nor threats, nor kindness sought
From love, could get him to discover ought;
Diego leaves the Table, sweares by his Skarffe;
The thing they doubted thus, was a meer Dwarffe.
The fleetest Izeland-Shock, they then provide:
On-which they mount him strait, and bid him ride:
He weeps a teare or two, for's Jewells lost;
And does with heavy heart, to Bruxels post.
Believ'd this little Captive, a Church-Spie!
Quoth he, that shrivled face, hath Schysme in it;
And lately ther's a learned volumne writ,
Wherein Ben-Jharky and Ben-Ezra too,
And Rabin Kimky eke, a learned Jew,
Are cited all, it labours to make good,
That there were Protestants before the Flood;
And thou its Author art; Jeffery swore then,
He never knew those Hebrew Gentlemen!
When they perceiv'd, nor threats, nor kindness sought
From love, could get him to discover ought;
Diego leaves the Table, sweares by his Skarffe;
The thing they doubted thus, was a meer Dwarffe.
The fleetest Izeland-Shock, they then provide:
On-which they mount him strait, and bid him ride:
He weeps a teare or two, for's Jewells lost;
And does with heavy heart, to Bruxels post.
Canto the Second.
So runs the nible Snaile, in slimy track,
Hast'ning with all his Tenement on's back,
And so, on goodly Cabidge leafe, the fleet,
Swift-Caterpiller moves with eager feet,
As this sad Courtier now; whose mighty Steed
May for an easie amble, or for speed,
Compare with gentle Bull in Yoke: But O!
Here now begins a Canticle of woe!
Chide cruel Fate, whose business in the Spheares,
Wise Jeffery notes, is but to cause our Teares:
Their rule, and pow'r (quoth he) is understood,
More in the harm they do us, than the good:
And this he said, because he scarce had driven
Along that Coast, the length of Inches seven,
But down his Izeland fell; some Authors say
A burley Oake, lay there disguis'd in's way;
Others a Rush; and from report, his steed
Did stumble, at the splinter of a Reed;
And some (far more authentick) say agin,
'Twas at a haire, that drop'd some humane chin?
But though, the Sage Historians are at strife,
How to resolve this point, his Coursers life
They hold lost in the fall, whilst the discreet
Jeffery was forc'd, to wander on his Feet.
Old wives, that saw the sorrows of this Spy,
Their wither'd Lips (thinner then lids of Eye)
Strait opened wide; and tickled with his wrongs;
Did laugh, as if t'were lech'ry to their Lungs:
And Diego too, whose grave, and solemn Brow,
Was ever knit, grew loud, and wanton now:
O for a Guard (quoth he) of Switzers here,
To heave that Giant up! but come not near:
For now enrag'd, he may perchance so tosse us,
As you would think, you toucht alive Colossus!
This Jeffery heard; and it did stir his Gall,
More than his Coursers death, or his own fall.
Hast'ning with all his Tenement on's back,
And so, on goodly Cabidge leafe, the fleet,
Swift-Caterpiller moves with eager feet,
As this sad Courtier now; whose mighty Steed
May for an easie amble, or for speed,
Compare with gentle Bull in Yoke: But O!
Here now begins a Canticle of woe!
Chide cruel Fate, whose business in the Spheares,
Wise Jeffery notes, is but to cause our Teares:
227
More in the harm they do us, than the good:
And this he said, because he scarce had driven
Along that Coast, the length of Inches seven,
But down his Izeland fell; some Authors say
A burley Oake, lay there disguis'd in's way;
Others a Rush; and from report, his steed
Did stumble, at the splinter of a Reed;
And some (far more authentick) say agin,
'Twas at a haire, that drop'd some humane chin?
But though, the Sage Historians are at strife,
How to resolve this point, his Coursers life
They hold lost in the fall, whilst the discreet
Jeffery was forc'd, to wander on his Feet.
Old wives, that saw the sorrows of this Spy,
Their wither'd Lips (thinner then lids of Eye)
Strait opened wide; and tickled with his wrongs;
Did laugh, as if t'were lech'ry to their Lungs:
And Diego too, whose grave, and solemn Brow,
Was ever knit, grew loud, and wanton now:
O for a Guard (quoth he) of Switzers here,
To heave that Giant up! but come not near:
For now enrag'd, he may perchance so tosse us,
As you would think, you toucht alive Colossus!
This Jeffery heard; and it did stir his Gall,
More than his Coursers death, or his own fall.
Sorrowes that hasten to us, are but slow,
In their departure, as the learn'd may know
By this sad story, since new cause was given;
For which our deep Platonick questions Heaven.
O cruel Starres! (quoth he) will you still so
Officious be, to trouble us below?
'Tis said your care doth govern us, d'ye call
That care, to let Ambassadors thus fall?
Nay, and permit worse dangers to ensue?
Though all your rule, and influence be true;
I had as leefe (since mortals thus you handle)
Be govern'd by the influence of a Candle.
This he had cause to say; for now behold
A Foule of spatious wings bloody, and bold
In his aspect; haughty in gate, and stiffe on
His large spread Claves he stood, as any Griffon:
Though by a kind, a Turkey; whose plot that way
Was like a subtile Scowt to watch for prey;
Such as is blown about by ev'ry wind:
But here's the dire mistake; this Foule (half blinde)
At Jefferey pecks, and with intent to eat
Him up, instead of a large graine of Wheat:
Jefferey in mighty rage ne're thinks upon't,
As th' Turkeys hunger, but as an affront.
His sword he drew; a better none alive
E're got from Spanish Foe, for Shillings Five,
And now the Battaile doth begin: sound high
Your Oaten Reeds, t' encourage Victorie!
Strike up the wrathful Tabor! and the Githern;
The loud Jew's-trump! and Spirit-stirring-Cittherne!
Jeffery the bold, as if he had o'reheard
These Instruments of War, his Arme uprear'd,
Then cryes St. George for England! and with that word
He mischief'd (what I pray?) nought but his sword:
Though some report, he noch'd the Foes left wing;
And Poets too who faithfully did sing
This Battaile in Low-Dutch, till of a few
Small Feathers there, which at the first charge flew
About the field; but do not strictly know
That they were shed by fury of that blow.
This they affirme; the Turkey in his look
Express'd how much, he it unkindly took
That wanting food; our Jeffery would not let him,
Enjoy a while the priviledge to eat him:
His Tayle he spreads, jets back; then turns agen;
And fought, as if, for th'honour of his Hen:
Jeffery retorts each stroke; and then cryes, Mauger
Thy strength, I will dissect thee like an Augure!
But who of mortal race deserves to write
The next encounter in this bloody fight?
Wisely didst thou (O Poet of Anchusin;)
Stay here thy Pen, and leur thy eager Muse in;
Envoking Mars, some half an houre at least,
To help thy fury onward with the rest:
For Jefferey strait was throwne; whilst faint and weak,
The cruel Foe, assaults him with his Beak,
A Lady-Midwife now, he there by chance
Espy'd, that came along with him from France:
A heart nours'd up in War; that n're before
This time (quoth he) could bow, now doth implore:
Thou that delivered'st hast so many, be
So kinde of nature, to deliver me!
But stay: for though the learn'd Chronologer
Of Dunkerk, doth confess him freed by her;
The subt'ler Poets yet, whom we translate
In all this Epick Ode, do not relate
The manner how; and we are loth at all
To vary from the Dutch Original.
Deeds they report, of greater height than these;
Wonders and truth; which if the Court-wits please,
A little help from Nature, lesse from Art,
May happily produce in a Third part.
In their departure, as the learn'd may know
By this sad story, since new cause was given;
For which our deep Platonick questions Heaven.
O cruel Starres! (quoth he) will you still so
Officious be, to trouble us below?
'Tis said your care doth govern us, d'ye call
That care, to let Ambassadors thus fall?
Nay, and permit worse dangers to ensue?
Though all your rule, and influence be true;
I had as leefe (since mortals thus you handle)
Be govern'd by the influence of a Candle.
This he had cause to say; for now behold
A Foule of spatious wings bloody, and bold
In his aspect; haughty in gate, and stiffe on
His large spread Claves he stood, as any Griffon:
Though by a kind, a Turkey; whose plot that way
Was like a subtile Scowt to watch for prey;
Such as is blown about by ev'ry wind:
But here's the dire mistake; this Foule (half blinde)
At Jefferey pecks, and with intent to eat
Him up, instead of a large graine of Wheat:
Jefferey in mighty rage ne're thinks upon't,
As th' Turkeys hunger, but as an affront.
His sword he drew; a better none alive
E're got from Spanish Foe, for Shillings Five,
228
Your Oaten Reeds, t' encourage Victorie!
Strike up the wrathful Tabor! and the Githern;
The loud Jew's-trump! and Spirit-stirring-Cittherne!
Jeffery the bold, as if he had o'reheard
These Instruments of War, his Arme uprear'd,
Then cryes St. George for England! and with that word
He mischief'd (what I pray?) nought but his sword:
Though some report, he noch'd the Foes left wing;
And Poets too who faithfully did sing
This Battaile in Low-Dutch, till of a few
Small Feathers there, which at the first charge flew
About the field; but do not strictly know
That they were shed by fury of that blow.
This they affirme; the Turkey in his look
Express'd how much, he it unkindly took
That wanting food; our Jeffery would not let him,
Enjoy a while the priviledge to eat him:
His Tayle he spreads, jets back; then turns agen;
And fought, as if, for th'honour of his Hen:
Jeffery retorts each stroke; and then cryes, Mauger
Thy strength, I will dissect thee like an Augure!
But who of mortal race deserves to write
The next encounter in this bloody fight?
Wisely didst thou (O Poet of Anchusin;)
Stay here thy Pen, and leur thy eager Muse in;
Envoking Mars, some half an houre at least,
To help thy fury onward with the rest:
For Jefferey strait was throwne; whilst faint and weak,
The cruel Foe, assaults him with his Beak,
A Lady-Midwife now, he there by chance
Espy'd, that came along with him from France:
A heart nours'd up in War; that n're before
This time (quoth he) could bow, now doth implore:
Thou that delivered'st hast so many, be
So kinde of nature, to deliver me!
But stay: for though the learn'd Chronologer
Of Dunkerk, doth confess him freed by her;
The subt'ler Poets yet, whom we translate
In all this Epick Ode, do not relate
The manner how; and we are loth at all
To vary from the Dutch Original.
Deeds they report, of greater height than these;
Wonders and truth; which if the Court-wits please,
A little help from Nature, lesse from Art,
May happily produce in a Third part.
| The works of Sr William Davenant | |