University of Virginia Library

Written, when Collonel Goring was believ'd to be slain at the Siege of Breda.

His Death lamented by Endimion, Arigo

The SCENE the Sea.
ENDIMION.
Ho! Pilot! change your Course! for know, we are
Not guided by the Sea-mans usuall Starre:
Storme-frighted-Foole! dull, wat'ry Officer?
Dost thou our Voyage by the Compass steere?
In all the Circle of thy Card, no Winde
Tame or unruly, thou wilt ever finde
Can bring us where the meanest on the Coast
Immortall is, and a renowned Ghost.

ARIGO.
Let the assembled Winds in their next Warre,
Blow out the light of thy old guiding Starre;
Whilst on uncertaine VVaves, thy Bark is tost,
Untill thy Card is rent, thy Rudder lost.
Nor Star, nor Card, though with choice VVinde you fill
Your Sailes (subdu'd by Navigators skill:)
Can teach the rule thy Helme, 'till 'twaft us o're
Pacifique Seas, to the Elisian Shore.

ENDIMION.
Who on that flow'ry Land, shall search his way,
No mortall Pilots Compass must obay;
Nor trust Columbus art, although he can
Boast longer toyles, than he, or Magilan:
Though in Sea-perills, he could talke them dumbe,
And prove them lazy Criples; bred at home,
By's travailes, he could make the Sun appeare,
A young, and unexperienc'd Travailer.

ARIGO.
If thou wilt steere our course, thou must rely
On some majestick, Epik-History;
(The Poet's Compass) such as the blind Priest
In fury writ, when like an Exorcist,
His Numbers charm'd the Grecian Hoast; whose Pen,
The Scepter was, which rul'd the Soules of Men,
Survey his mystick Card; learn to what Coast,
He did transport, each brave unbody'd Ghost,
New shifted from his flesh; that valiant Crew,
Which fierce Achilles, and bold Hector slew?

ENDIMION.
Enquire, where these are now? beneath what Shade,
In dear-bought rest, their weary Limbs are laid,
That trod on rugged wayes? for Honor still
Leaves the smooth Plaine, t'ascend the rough, steep Hill.
There seek, the Macedonian Youth; who knew
No work so full of ease, as to subdue:
Who scarce believ'd his Conquests worthy fame,
Since others thought, his fortune overcame.

ARIGO.
Neer him, th'Epir of Warriour doth lie;
Lookes, as he scorn'd his immortalitie,
Because of too much rest; seems still at strife
With Fate, for loss of troubles, not of life:
Griev'd that to dye, he made such certain hast,
Since being dead, the noble Danger's past.

ENDIMION.
Neer these go seek (with Mirtle over-grown)
The Carthaginian Victor's shady Throne;
Who there with sullen thoughts, much troubled lies;
And chides the over-careful Destinies?
That these Ambitious Neighbours thither sent
So long before his birth; thus to prevent
Dishonour at their deaths; O fond surmise,
Of one, who when but mortal was so wise!
As if betimes, they hastned to a Tombe,
Lest he b'ing borne, they had been overcome.

ARIGO.
Neer him the wondrous Roman doth appear,
Majestick, as if made Dictator there;
Where now the Philosophick Lord, would heale
The wound he gave him for the publick Weale:
Which he more strives to hide; as sham'd his Eye
Should find, that any wound could make him die.

ENDIMION.
If thou by the wise Poets Card or starre,
Canst bring us where these faded Heroes are;
Shift all thy Sayles, to husband ev'ry Winde;
'Till by a short swift passage we may find,
Where Sidney's ever-blooming-Throne is spread;
For now, since one renown'd as he is dead;
(Goring, the still lamented, and belov'd!)
He hath enlarg'd his Bow'r, and far remov'd
His less Heroick Neighbours, that gave place
To him; the last of that soon number'd Race.

ARIGO.
Whom he must needs delight to celebrate,
Bacause himself, in manners and in Fate,
Was his undoubted Type, Goring, whose name
Though early up, will stay the last with Fame:

ENDIMION.
Though Sidney was his Type fulfill'd above
What he foretaught, of Valor, Bounty, Love:
Who dy'd like him, even there, where he mistook
Betray'd by pitty then, to their defence,
Whose poverty was all their innocence:
And sure, if to their help a Third could come,
Beguild by Honour, to such Martyrdome;
Sufficient like these Two in braine, as blood;
The world in time would think, their cause is good.

ARIGO.
Thus he forsook his glories being young:
The Warriour is unlucky, who lives long;
And brings his courage in suspect; for he
That aimes at honour, i'th' supreme degree,
Permits his Valor to be over bold,
Which then ne're keeps him safe, 'till he be old.

ENDIMION.
His Bounty like his Valor, unconfin'd;
As if not born to Treasure, but assign'd
The rents of lucky War; each Day to be
Allow'd, the profits of a Victory!
Not of poor Farmes, but of the World the Lord!
Heir, to intestate Nations by his sword,

ARIGO.
In Valor thus, and Bounty, rais'd above
The vulgar height, so in designes of love;
For onely gentle love could him subdue;
A noble crime, which shew'd his Valor true:
It is the Souldier's test; for just so far
He yeilds to Love, he overcomes in War.

ENDIMION.
But why Arigo, do we strive to raise
The Story of our loss, with helpless praise?
Why to this Pilot mourne, whose Eares can reach
Nothing less loud, than Winds or Waters breach!
Or think that he can guide us to a Coast,
Where we may find, what all the World hath lost?

ARIGO.
About then! Helme. a Lee! Endimion! see;
Loose Wreaths (not of the Bay, but Cypress tree)
Our Poet wears, and on the Shore doth mourn,
Fearing, t' Elizium bound; we can't return,
Steer back! his Verse may make those Sorrows last
Which here, we 'mongst unhallow'd Sea-men waste.