University of Virginia Library

THE PHYLOSOPHERS FIFT Satyr of Venus.

Next vnto blood and death, the Paphian queene
Of the inferiour-planets first is seene:
The harbinger of faire Auroras light,
Bright day-starre, sliking the rough brow of night,
Faire Citharæa: amorous flame of loue,
That next vnto the glorious sunne doth moue:
Goddesse of generation, that dost giue
A father to each Bastard how to liue:
Make my Muse ramble, that it truly tell
The scapes of lust, that in thy influence dwell:
Appeare you horned-monsters, that do swell
With high-brow-Antlers, that gainst heau'n rebell:
And stumble against Taurus with your hornes.
Behold the lustfull Planet of your scornes:
By whose insatiate and hot lustfull fire,
Your wiues are strumpets, & your brows rear'd higher
Vnder this starre bright Helena was bred,
That made her husband higher by the head.
And Messalina by this planets power
Wife to great Claudius, Romes high Emperour,
Fall two and twentie times in one sole day,
Comuted Cæsar with her lustfull play:
Here may thy Satyr riot with thy pen,
And lash to blood this crooked fate of men,
Whose shameles wiues, o'rwarmd with bastard wine
Like Messalina breakes that sacred signe,
That holy wedlocke in their vowes hath made,
By that lasciuious and insatiate trade:
That nature growes so horrid and so full,
That, like Pasiphae, amored of a Bull
In any forme of incest, or hot rape,
The sensuall appetite affects his shape:
Preposterous motions in this planet raigne,
Mothers turne Bawdes vnto their Daughters gaine:
Husbands haue sold their wiues like Gallislaues
Vnto a strangers bed: whole streets of knaues,
Deepe red in hot Adulterie so confounds
The reputation of our honest grounds,
As if the world and Iustices agreede,
To make a Chaos of their bastard seede.
Why frownes not Minos at that ciuill whore,
That in a Puritans habit dwells next doore,
Vnto his warship and with Saintlike motion,
Minces the pauement with her pure deuotion:
Whom some hot Tradesman keeps, & doth disguise,
In Angels robes to gull the iealous eies
Of shallow iudgement, following Machauell
Cunning in sinne treads warily to hell.
Why Carts not iustice that old Dipsas Baude,
That with her sorcerous charmes disperst abroad
Among the vestall Virgins holy bred,
Hath betrai'd many a well-borne Maidenhead,
To the luxurious hands of riotous heyres;
Drowning their mothers happinesse in teares?
Why doe our lustfull Theaters entice,
And personate in liuely action vice:
Draw to the Cities shame, with guilded clothes,
Such swarmes of wines to breake their nuptiall othes;
Or why are women rather growne so mad,
That their immodest feete like planets gad
With such irregular motion to base Playes,
Where all the deadly sinnes keepe bollidaies.
There shall they see the vices of the times,
Orestes incest, Cleopatres crimes,
Lucullus surfets, and Poppeas pride.
Virgineaes rape, and wanton Lais hide
Her Sirens charmes in such eare charming sense;
As it would turne a modest audience,
To brazen-fac'et profession of a whore.
Their histories perswade, but action more,
Vices well coucht in pleasing Sceanes present,
More will to act, then action can inuent.
And this the reason, vnlesse heauen preuent,
Why women most at Playes turne impudent,
And yet not to their sexe doe we applie,
A Stoicall and stout necessitie,
Of shamefull sinne to women in this kind.
But I could wish their modestie confin'd,
To a more ciuill and graue libertie,
Of will and free election: carefullie
Hating this hellish confluence of the stage,
That breeds more grosse infections to the age
Of separations, and religious bonds,
Then e're religion with her hallowed hands
Can reunite: rather renew thy web,
With chast Penelope, then staine thy bed
With such base incantations: But why in vaine,
Doe I confound the musicke of my straine
With such vnrellisht Pantomimmicke slaues,
Whose liues prophane a lashing Satyr craues?
Oh yet my graue muse be not to profuse,
Applaud their good, scourge onely their abuse,
No, rather my keene pen with art diffect,
The Anotomie of woman, whose defect,
May reade such Physicke to their longing sexe,
As what most horrid guilt of lust detects,
And cast aspersions on their Angels faces,
May salue their burning feauers of disgraces:
Not in a squibbing vaine my pen shall taske
Your feeble imperfections, but vnmaske
With far more reuerent hand your slippery natures,
Since your first fall proues you backsliding creatures;
When heauen and earth from his confusion tooke
Proportion firme, and a more gracious looke
Of order and creation, then was crown'd
Man, the imperiall Monarch of this Round:
Which being made of a grosse element,
Vnfit alone for Kingly gouernment.
Woman as his adiutor was assign'd,
That to their powers the earth might be confin'd.
And man, then one in number, therefore none,
In her might be more perfect then alone.
When she was made in that prime innocence,
Each element bestowed the quintessence
Of his best qualities: fire then was more remisse
With out hot lust, that now more ex'lent is.
Water did temper his moyst qualitie,
Without the swetting palmes of venerie;
The subtill parts of aire did not inspire
A lightnesse to their body or desire.
The sollid parts of earth vpheld their frame,
That now falls back to ruinate the same:
Her harmonie of nature most refin'd
From the dull Mans, an Angell in her kind.
Her face as beautious as the Crysped Morne,
Strooke from smudg'dnight: created and not borne,
To keepe grosse-pated Adams from foule sin,
With adoration like some Cherubin.
Which not alone that naked Sill could doe:
Except the mightie mouer had made two;
Both which had kept faire Edens royalties,
To their succession and posterities:
And then vncensur'd had the woman ben,
From th'originall cause of mortall sinne,
Had not that Hel-bred Politician
Beguil'd the woman, and the woman man:
But since her sacred reason was beguil'd,
And she for him, and he for both exild
From that foure-riuer-running-Paradice,
To the large cursed center of their vice:
Behold this rare Idea of a woman
Made to admire beyond an obiect common,
Transform'd into a loathsome masse of dust,
Salt tides of passions, and hot foming lust,
Keepe their high floods, and waite on appetite;
As flowing Seaes attend the Queene of night,
Inconstant flames glow in their skittish brest,
And chastitie runnes like a man possest
With Legion and his diuels; and so raues,
As it scornes life in streetes, but liues in graues,
As if all vertues vnto heauen were fled,
And women scarce thought honest, although dead.
Nature is now growne monstrous to the earth,
That in excesse creates this creatures birth:
Or those prime elementall-qualities,
That giue our constitutions properties;
Turne pandars in the action of their life,
To make a faire face a dishonest wife:
Or else imaginations deepely wrought
By strong impression makes the age so nought:
As when some lustfull bloud swolne high with wine,
And stirring delicates, beares still in mind.
The obiect of her dalliance, to exchange
Her sacred bridall bed for sheetes more strange:
Since the most simple essense of her soule,
Immortall and diuine, now blacke and foule,
With more then Ethiopian gracelesse slaine,
Ne'r blushing at her sinfull die in graine,
Tasted the Philtre compounds of sins harmes,
VVith the sweete magick of her pleasing charmes,
Since all their passions, that kept golden meanes,
VVithout the amorous flames of loues extreames,
Since women did corrupt their naturall graces,
And by complexion did create new faces,
Since their proud sex did studie to repaire,
Robbing the dead their owne more comely haire,
Since their Apostate sexe began to slide
From faith to supersttoion, and to pride,
Since all this metamorphosis began
Wo-man, you make a locall hell for man:
The miserie of man affords but this,
An Aristippus, and Semiramis:
Murder and lust like two insatiate twinnes,
Reuels in surfets of our noble sinnes.
VVell vnto Cato, this the world did giue:
“Oh Cato thou alone know'st how to liue,
“That not in pallaces, and princely bowers,
“Didst spend the last glasse of thy aged bowers,
“Where Venus sports are like to tennis balles,
“Bandied from one to tother: till it falles
“Into the hazards of their honord names,
“The chases lost are rumors and defames:
“Nor in the scalding Suburbes didst thou dwell,
“Where lust appeares in his hot shape of hell,
“The Diuels whores, and the tormenting fire.
“The stewing steame of sulphured hot desire:
“Nor in that great Metropolis of Dames,
“That like to Dog-daies burne the earth with flames,
“As hot in their lasciuious appetites,
“As Munkeyes: more luxurious in delights,
“Then amorous Flora, that Italian whore,
“That proudly writ vpon her painted dore,
“Let none but Kings here enter: and as vild
In their loose purges of their bed defil'd
With their adulterate louers, as if trades
Did neither marry widowes, wiues, or maides.
Sooner may shamelesse wiues hate Braindford feasts,
Albertus Magnus, or the pilfred Iests
Of some spruce Skipiack Citizen from Playes,
A Coach, the secret Baudihouse for waies,
And riotous waste of some new Freeman made,
That in one yeere to peices breakes his trade,
Then wash the toadlike speckles of defame,
That swell the world with poyson of their shame:
What Comedies of errors swell the stage
With your most publike vices, when the age
Dares personate in action, for, your eies
Ranke Sceanes of your lust-sweating qualities:
Why are your ciuill and domestick names,
Question'd by euery Page, or grauer Dames
Censur'd by euery Courtier in your streetes,
Vnlesse the speaking-figures of your Sheets
Could number one, two, three; and tell that tricke,
Whereby you multiplie Arithmatick,
And cast your false accounts in others beds,
VVhilest hornes like siphers only shew their heads
Of your neglected Pheares: or rather why
Are grauer heads so rich in pollicie,
Industrious and so cunning in their wares:
VVretched in nothing but in doubtfull heires:
And yet see not with what immodest croudes,
Their Turtles lie with Centaures in the cloudes,
VVhy scowres the shallow Marchant the deep Ocean,
Euen to the burnt line with his three yeeres motion:
Leauing his daintie Pinnis on the land,
Like to a man of warre well rigg'd and mann'd
By other cunning Pilots: Pirates rather
That robbes him of the honor of a father:
And nailes not his profession to the Burss,
To saue her shipwrackt honor dangerous,
From Rouers hands and lustfull pyracie
Of this hot rutting age: whose luxurie,
Eu'n from the hoarie graybeard to the bold
And youthfull beardlesse boy-wench we behold
Priapus Altars reake with smoke and fire
Of quenchlesse passions and vntam'd desire.
The baudie times tutor their Goatish sense
In ribawld sciences, and do commence
Proficients in the art of Midwifetrie.
Pages can non-plus deepe obcenitie
In Aristotles Problemes: and in fine,
He's best, that best disputes in Aretine.
And I much wonder that this lustie time,
That women can both sing and sigh in rime,
Weepe and dissemble both in baudie meetre,
Laugh in luxurious pamphlets, like a creature
Whose very breath, some Ouid did create
With prouocations, and a longing fate
After some stirring meates: wiues couet bookes,
Not penn'd by Artists, but the fruits of Cookes
Prescribing lustie dishes, to enflame
Their lustie fighting broode vnto their game
Confections with infections of their kinde,
Rot both their body, and corrupts the minde.
Ladies are turned Musk-cats, and do sent,
As if perfumers bought their excrement:
As though their imperfections so did smel,
As without Ciuet it would poyson hell.
Ther's scarce a face, as it was first baptiz'd,
That keepes his Christian colour: but disguiz'd
With Lozinges and lotions: as if their hate
Found fault with God, and could regenerate
A better face with painting; when their formes,
May poyson men, but neuer poyson wormes:
All these, as if an Academick sect,
Had studied new opinions to infect
The soule with fond mortalitie, define
The soule organicall and not diuine:
And of a physick-bodie the best part,
Misconstring physick for the Doctors art:
These vices flesh the hot rain'd time with lust,
And bake cold Phlegme to humors more adust
And hotter slipps of wedlock: the Romans Guise
To lillie-vesta, offered Sacrifice.
To Esculapius a cock they gaue:
But now for Venus all our Henns we saue.
Looke you fond Doues chain'd to your goddesse carre,
Those Roman sonnes, that haue out-prim'd your starre
In chaster beames, and with their motion runne:
Til maides turne Turkes, and leaue their Christendome:
Hypsicratæa, and chaste Liuia score
For your examples, and with zeale adore
The memorable tombe of Portias name,
That eate hot fluming coales to keepe her fame,
From the rough surgerie of scandalous tongues,
That time might sing with praise her funerall songs.
Which Antiquaries in a golden page
May name the gelded: not the guilded age,
Sweet meats and al your delicates of vice:
Packe to the Comfit-makers, there intice
The baudy midwife, and the pifering nurse
To rotten teeth and tatling: but thy curse
Light not vpon the thrift of Cittie wiues
Life's sweet, good nam's farre sweeter thē their liues:
Perfumes and powders that make faces looke
Like Sculs in Church-yards, that but late was tooke
From gastly bones, as if the world did lust
Like Sextons to appeare in deadmens dust:
As if their periwigs to death they gaue,
To meale it in some gastly dead mens graue:
And thus like Ghosts appeare to humane sight:
As if a resurrection should affright
The weakenesse of our natures: which (indeed)
Should with diuiner vse the morrall reade
Of their owne frailties: and like Phillips slaue
Ring a memento of their ashy graue,
Iust of that colour: for in such a face
I reade the horrors of that deadly place,
VVhere Golgotha was found: this must I tell:
Nor Schrichowles, nor the fatall passing-bell,
Makes me remember pale necessitie,
Eternall silence of mortalitie,
Nore oft then powdred faces: oh ther's grace,
Th'are liuing graues, and haue a sauing face.
Hence then yon horrid drugs that do consume
The noble rankes like graues: and yet perfume,
Your vglinesse with pleasure to the sense,
Chasing their bloods with your hot excellence
Of lust and amorous charmes: begon, growe dull,
And decke the forehead of one gastly scull:
That our faire formes may in their beauties rise
Admir'd, for red and whites simplicities.
But now from Venus Nunnerie of Loue,
Vnto the god of shifts our spheare we moue:
Charme earth great Hermes with thy Snaky rod,
VVhilest Englands Ioy adores the shifting God.