The Fatall Nvptiall Or, Mournefull Marriage. Relating, The heavy and lamentable Accident lately occurring, by the drowning of 47. persons, and some of those of especiall quality, in the water of Windermere, in the North. October 19: 1635 [by Richard Brathwait] |
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 | The Fatall Nvptiall |  |
THE Fatall Nvptiall;
OR, Movrnefvll Marriage.
Poeme.
Hymen
, put out thy lights; thy selfe confound
With griefe, to see thy teare-swolne cōsorts drownd,
Thy late Attendants: See of forty seven
None rescued from death, but wholly driven
From hope, helpe, harbour! recollect it thus,
And joyne in mournefull Elegies with us.
Husbands of Wives, Wives of their Husbands reft,
Parents of Babes, Babes of their Parents left.
Heere Widdow's tears, and there poor Orphans cryes,
These fill the Cesterns of distilling eyes
With confluence of teares. What a sad Night
Hath damp't the beauty of a Nuptiall light
With universall sorrow?—Pray thee stay,
And fayle along with me in this same way,
This wat'ry Region, where the curled waves
Afford us teares, and to their bodies graves:
—See, see the leeking Vessell how it strives
And combats with the waves, to save their lives!
It sighs and seekes for Land, but press'd with weather,
And her surcharged burden both together,
While surging billowes mount above the brinke,
Shee's forc'd to yeeld, and with her fraught to sinke.
To sinke! O silence that perplexing word,
It will a Deluge of new griefe afford
To the relenting Reader, who with teares
Will rinse each comme and period that he heares:
And wooe th'inraged waves, and chide them too,
When he in milder tearmes shall cease to woo;
And in such home bred Dialect as this,
Taxe them and tell them, that they did amisse.
With griefe, to see thy teare-swolne cōsorts drownd,
Thy late Attendants: See of forty seven
None rescued from death, but wholly driven
From hope, helpe, harbour! recollect it thus,
And joyne in mournefull Elegies with us.
Parents of Babes, Babes of their Parents left.
Heere Widdow's tears, and there poor Orphans cryes,
These fill the Cesterns of distilling eyes
With confluence of teares. What a sad Night
Hath damp't the beauty of a Nuptiall light
With universall sorrow?—Pray thee stay,
And fayle along with me in this same way,
This wat'ry Region, where the curled waves
Afford us teares, and to their bodies graves:
—See, see the leeking Vessell how it strives
And combats with the waves, to save their lives!
It sighs and seekes for Land, but press'd with weather,
And her surcharged burden both together,
Shee's forc'd to yeeld, and with her fraught to sinke.
To sinke! O silence that perplexing word,
It will a Deluge of new griefe afford
To the relenting Reader, who with teares
Will rinse each comme and period that he heares:
And wooe th'inraged waves, and chide them too,
When he in milder tearmes shall cease to woo;
And in such home bred Dialect as this,
Taxe them and tell them, that they did amisse.
O should you now see how Child clings on Mother,
Husband on Wife, Wife Husband, one on other,
Grasping the yeelding Streames, who in remorce
With wat'ry veils shroud their inchanneld coarse;
Should you conceit these Objects, you with me
Would cloze in one-united Lachrymæ.
Husband on Wife, Wife Husband, one on other,
Grasping the yeelding Streames, who in remorce
With wat'ry veils shroud their inchanneld coarse;
Would cloze in one-united Lachrymæ.
O WINDERMERE, who art renown'd afarre
For thy sole breeding there unvalued Charre.
And with thy spatious channell doest divide
Two antient Counties seated on each side;
May thy fresh waters salt and brackish turne,
And in their chang'd condition henceforth mourne;
May those distilling conduits of thine,
Loosing their native sweetnesse flow with brine:
Tuning each accent of this accident
To Swanlike Odes of dying dreriment.
What did incense thee thus? what furious fate?
Tethis and Hymen were they at debate?
Did any impious one this shipwracke cause,
Some high Delinquent to Heav'ns sacred Lawes,
Whose deepe dyde sinne did so the State infest
As it became a Scourge unto the rest
That were his haplesse Consorts? or some wretch,
Some hideous Hagge, or late-reprived Witch
Sprung from those desart Concaves, forlorne Cells,
Raising these stormes with their infernall Spells?
No; No; nor this, nor that, nor any these
Gave life to those expiring miseries.
It was that fixt decree, to which 'tis fit
That wee who are his Creatures should submit.
For thy sole breeding there unvalued Charre.
And with thy spatious channell doest divide
Two antient Counties seated on each side;
May thy fresh waters salt and brackish turne,
And in their chang'd condition henceforth mourne;
May those distilling conduits of thine,
Loosing their native sweetnesse flow with brine:
Tuning each accent of this accident
To Swanlike Odes of dying dreriment.
What did incense thee thus? what furious fate?
Tethis and Hymen were they at debate?
Some high Delinquent to Heav'ns sacred Lawes,
Whose deepe dyde sinne did so the State infest
As it became a Scourge unto the rest
That were his haplesse Consorts? or some wretch,
Some hideous Hagge, or late-reprived Witch
Sprung from those desart Concaves, forlorne Cells,
Raising these stormes with their infernall Spells?
No; No; nor this, nor that, nor any these
Gave life to those expiring miseries.
It was that fixt decree, to which 'tis fit
That wee who are his Creatures should submit.
The sacred Scriptures they will plainly tell
How those, on whom the Tower of Shilo fell,
Were not the greatest sinners; Nor ought we
To judge, but by the rule of Charitie
To measure all our Censures: for who ar't,
That liv'st so free from act, so pure in hart,
Who canst in judgement with th'Almighty stand,
Or prove good weight when ballanc'd by his hand?
If he doe spare then, 'tis his mercy to us,
And if hee scourge, hee doth but justice doe us.
How those, on whom the Tower of Shilo fell,
To judge, but by the rule of Charitie
To measure all our Censures: for who ar't,
That liv'st so free from act, so pure in hart,
Who canst in judgement with th'Almighty stand,
Or prove good weight when ballanc'd by his hand?
If he doe spare then, 'tis his mercy to us,
And if hee scourge, hee doth but justice doe us.
But let me now divert my dolefull Scene,
And pencyle these who now have drowned bene,
In their owne native feature! “These were such
Who, to relieve their Meniey, labour'd much
In their industrious Wool-worke; justly fam'd,
And for their Manuall labour Sheare-men nam'd.
An usefull mystery! which though it make
Course cloaths, and such as ne're did Alnage take,
Yet 'tis commodious to the Common-weale,
And fit for Sale, although unfit for Seale.
For if th'poore work-man scarcely can supply
With late and earely toile his Family
Now when his Trading is exempt and freed,
In paying Alnage how should hee succeede?
But Heav'ns be blest for our dread Soveraigne,
Who cheeres with freedome such an honest gaine.
And pencyle these who now have drowned bene,
In their owne native feature! “These were such
Who, to relieve their Meniey, labour'd much
In their industrious Wool-worke; justly fam'd,
And for their Manuall labour Sheare-men nam'd.
Course cloaths, and such as ne're did Alnage take,
Yet 'tis commodious to the Common-weale,
And fit for Sale, although unfit for Seale.
For if th'poore work-man scarcely can supply
With late and earely toile his Family
Now when his Trading is exempt and freed,
In paying Alnage how should hee succeede?
But Heav'ns be blest for our dread Soveraigne,
Who cheeres with freedome such an honest gaine.
Most then of these wr{a}ct Passengers were such
Whom never yet ambition did tutch,
Grinding oppression, griping avarice,
“Conscience their praise, and competence their prize,
Much comfort (sure) crowns such wheres'ere they dye,
Though drencht below, their thoughts are fixt on hye.
Whom never yet ambition did tutch,
Grinding oppression, griping avarice,
“Conscience their praise, and competence their prize,
Though drencht below, their thoughts are fixt on hye.
But amongst these, both love and blood doe urge
An higher straine of passion for my GEORGE.
Of pregnant ripe conceit, firme to his friends,
And ne're soak't Clients purse with endlesse ends;
Young, yet well-read in houres; fixing his love
On Lawes Divine and on the Land above.
Such dispositions make a good Atturney,
And wing his passage for an heav'nly journey:
Where hee this fee may for his labour erne,
Peacefull Eternity without a Terme.
An higher straine of passion for my GEORGE.
Of pregnant ripe conceit, firme to his friends,
And ne're soak't Clients purse with endlesse ends;
Young, yet well-read in houres; fixing his love
On Lawes Divine and on the Land above.
Such dispositions make a good Atturney,
And wing his passage for an heav'nly journey:
Where hee this fee may for his labour erne,
Peacefull Eternity without a Terme.
A just weeke after, and same houre oth' day,
His Corpes were found, that hee was throwne away,
Untouch't and undisfigur'd; to imply
Mans face i'th Depths reteines a Majesty.
His Corpes were found, that hee was throwne away,
Mans face i'th Depths reteines a Majesty.
Next Him, those nursing fosters of my Three,
Three litle ones, whom they so carefullie
Tender'd, exact of me their funerall teares,
With such a Monument as Vertue reares
On her true-meaning followers: for to show
How their industrious Master and these two
Exprest their love and zeale to me and mine,
Would aske a lasting-living-loving-line:
And Gratitude keepes somewhat to requite;
“To Him my love, to Them my last good-night.
Yet recollect those latest words She said,
When shee that fatall vessell entered,
While thrice she lanched forward to the Maine,
Thrice she step'd in, and thrice retyr'd againe,
As one divining what would after fall,
With trickling teares thus on the Oares did call;
Three litle ones, whom they so carefullie
Tender'd, exact of me their funerall teares,
With such a Monument as Vertue reares
On her true-meaning followers: for to show
How their industrious Master and these two
Exprest their love and zeale to me and mine,
Would aske a lasting-living-loving-line:
And Gratitude keepes somewhat to requite;
“To Him my love, to Them my last good-night.
Yet recollect those latest words She said,
When shee that fatall vessell entered,
Thrice she step'd in, and thrice retyr'd againe,
As one divining what would after fall,
With trickling teares thus on the Oares did call;
Oh stay thy Boat, secure me and my Mate!
“One may foresee, but not prevent their fate.
“One may foresee, but not prevent their fate.
Next these, His losse, who at my Table fed,
And as one of mine owne, was sometimes bred,
I mone; One may their duty farre forgit,
Yet God forbid, wee should not this remit,
As wee hope for remission: Hee is dead,
And with him my distasts are buried.
To waft him o're (no doubt) it did Heav'ns please,
From th'waters of Contention unto Peace.
And as one of mine owne, was sometimes bred,
I mone; One may their duty farre forgit,
Yet God forbid, wee should not this remit,
As wee hope for remission: Hee is dead,
And with him my distasts are buried.
To waft him o're (no doubt) it did Heav'ns please,
From th'waters of Contention unto Peace.
For th'rest, I knew them onely by report,
Of honest fame, though of obscurer sort.
And these with those I confidently trust
Are now enrowl'd ith' number of the just.
Of honest fame, though of obscurer sort.
And these with those I confidently trust
Are now enrowl'd ith' number of the just.
Now to ourselves let something be applide,
And then these papers shall be laid aside.
“I'st so, that wee in hourely danger stand
Whether wee saile by Sea, or goe by Land?
“That wee to th'World but one entrance have,
But thousand meanes of passage to our grave?
“That all our wayes are hedg'd about with feare,
While wee are Pilgrims in this Desart heere?
“That none shall be exempted, but must goe
Unto the place where they'r confined to?
“And that the wise shall no more fruit receave
Of all his Labours, then the foole shall have?
“And that their end's alike, for both shall die
To prove them Coheirs of Mortality?
“For th'politick Hun must yeeld to swelling Humber,
As well as th'least of his inferiour number;
“And Archie that rich foole, when hee least dreames,
For purchast lands, must be possest of streames:
“What can wee practice, project or devise,
When ther's no priviledge for Foole nor Wise?
And then these papers shall be laid aside.
“I'st so, that wee in hourely danger stand
Whether wee saile by Sea, or goe by Land?
“That wee to th'World but one entrance have,
But thousand meanes of passage to our grave?
“That all our wayes are hedg'd about with feare,
While wee are Pilgrims in this Desart heere?
“That none shall be exempted, but must goe
Unto the place where they'r confined to?
Of all his Labours, then the foole shall have?
“And that their end's alike, for both shall die
To prove them Coheirs of Mortality?
“For th'politick Hun must yeeld to swelling Humber,
As well as th'least of his inferiour number;
“And Archie that rich foole, when hee least dreames,
For purchast lands, must be possest of streames:
“What can wee practice, project or devise,
When ther's no priviledge for Foole nor Wise?
Let's like wise Marchants then, make it our care
To looke unto our Faith, our Fraught, our Fare;
Like Prudent Pilots, on our guard let's stand,
That with safe Prize wee may returne to Land.
For ev'n me thinkes, before they yeeld to Fate,
Their case they seeme thus to expostulate.
To looke unto our Faith, our Fraught, our Fare;
Like Prudent Pilots, on our guard let's stand,
That with safe Prize wee may returne to Land.
Their case they seeme thus to expostulate.
Spare me, insulting waves, the Father cryes,
Take pitty of my poore parentall eyes,
In me yee shall drowne many; for my life
Supports a Family, Children, and Wife.
These perish if I fall; then pitty take
If not for me, yet for mine Infants sake.
I have industrious beene, and given reliefe
Out of my little store, to ease the griefe
Of hungry Soules; Nor doe I boast of this,
For Heav'ns you know, I've done too much amisse:
Nor in those works of mercy that were wrought,
Have I perform'd my duty as I ought.
Give me some longer respite, that I may
Redeeme the time wherein I went astray.
Thou who command'st the winds and waves, and went
Upon the waters, calme this Element;
Steere our weake Barke, for it is in thine hand,
To still this Storme, and bring us safe a land:
But let not our will but thy Will be done;
And as hee ends, another streight begun.
Take pitty of my poore parentall eyes,
In me yee shall drowne many; for my life
Supports a Family, Children, and Wife.
These perish if I fall; then pitty take
If not for me, yet for mine Infants sake.
I have industrious beene, and given reliefe
Out of my little store, to ease the griefe
Of hungry Soules; Nor doe I boast of this,
For Heav'ns you know, I've done too much amisse:
Nor in those works of mercy that were wrought,
Have I perform'd my duty as I ought.
Redeeme the time wherein I went astray.
Thou who command'st the winds and waves, and went
Upon the waters, calme this Element;
Steere our weake Barke, for it is in thine hand,
To still this Storme, and bring us safe a land:
But let not our will but thy Will be done;
And as hee ends, another streight begun.
I am a Mother, O deliver mee
From these inclosing dangers which I see;
A tender Infant hangs upon my brest,
And onely in my bosome takes sweet rest;
How will it cry, if it his mother lacke!
Then for the Babes sake shield me from this wracke.
If shuddring horrour now surprize mine heart,
Oh what an anguish will it be to part
A Mother from the fruit of her owne wombe,
And in the wat'ry depths, to have a Tombe?
Excuse my feare, deare Lord, it is not common
For virile Spirits to be in a Woman.
Where my Lord is, my thoughts are fixed there,
Yet flesh and blood their dissolution feare.
To thee then I direct my sole request,
In whom I put my trust, in whom I rest:
Incline thine eare to a poore Womans crye,
And be thou mine, whether I live or dye.
From these inclosing dangers which I see;
A tender Infant hangs upon my brest,
And onely in my bosome takes sweet rest;
How will it cry, if it his mother lacke!
Then for the Babes sake shield me from this wracke.
Oh what an anguish will it be to part
A Mother from the fruit of her owne wombe,
And in the wat'ry depths, to have a Tombe?
Excuse my feare, deare Lord, it is not common
For virile Spirits to be in a Woman.
Where my Lord is, my thoughts are fixed there,
Yet flesh and blood their dissolution feare.
To thee then I direct my sole request,
In whom I put my trust, in whom I rest:
Incline thine eare to a poore Womans crye,
And be thou mine, whether I live or dye.
The feare-surprized Childe, who sighs for shore,
And ne're knew well what danger ment before;
Sends forth a shreeke or two, yet knowes not why,
For 'las hee knowes not what it is to dye.
And ne're knew well what danger ment before;
For 'las hee knowes not what it is to dye.
O save me, Mother! when shall wee get home?
I have desire that wee to land may come.
I'l goe no more by Water, by your leave,
Nor shall a Cock-boat e're your Boy receave.
What meane these swelling bubbles that arise,
And with their sprinklings wash mine head and eyes?
I cannot tell, but they affright me sore,
Get I to land, I'l trouble these no more.
At Ducke and Drake I'd rather safely play,
On our owne Poole upon the Holy-day.
—Ay me! that last wave, Mother, washt my coat,
An other such would throw me out o'th Boat.
Faine would I sleepe, but yet I cannot heere,
Take any rest, I'm taken so with feare.
—Oh save me, Mother! thus her Lambkin cride;
And she with teare-swolne eyes againe replide.
Feare nothing, Childe: Heaven shield us from mishap;
Sleepe prety Ape, I'l shroud thee with my lap.
'Twixt feare and love such mutuall conflicts bee,
The waves rocke her, she him upon her knee.
I have desire that wee to land may come.
I'l goe no more by Water, by your leave,
Nor shall a Cock-boat e're your Boy receave.
What meane these swelling bubbles that arise,
And with their sprinklings wash mine head and eyes?
I cannot tell, but they affright me sore,
Get I to land, I'l trouble these no more.
At Ducke and Drake I'd rather safely play,
On our owne Poole upon the Holy-day.
—Ay me! that last wave, Mother, washt my coat,
An other such would throw me out o'th Boat.
Take any rest, I'm taken so with feare.
—Oh save me, Mother! thus her Lambkin cride;
And she with teare-swolne eyes againe replide.
Feare nothing, Childe: Heaven shield us from mishap;
Sleepe prety Ape, I'l shroud thee with my lap.
'Twixt feare and love such mutuall conflicts bee,
The waves rocke her, she him upon her knee.
Weigh these surprized soules who rightly can,
And shares not in these miseries of man
With joynt compassion? who can eye this Shelfe
Of danger, and reflect not on himselfe?
And shares not in these miseries of man
With joynt compassion? who can eye this Shelfe
Of danger, and reflect not on himselfe?
Of the whole substance of our Marchandize,
One onely Pearle's of unvalued prize:
Which got, wee gaine; which lost, it is in vaine
To have possest the Indies for our gaine.
One onely Pearle's of unvalued prize:
To have possest the Indies for our gaine.
Let's then contemplate Him, where wee may rest,
For all things else are losse, hows'ere possest.
If wee have wealth, perchance, wee have not health;
If wee have health, perhaps, wee have not wealth;
If health and wealth, yet friendship may be scant;
If health, wealth, friendship, wee may honour want;
If health, wealth, honour wee injoyers be,
Yet what are these, if wee want libertie?
But God is all in one, for it is hee
Who with a girdle bounds the surging Sea:
Nought may oppose his Empire, whose command
Reacheth from Sea to Sea, from Land to Land.
Some Marchants for Silkes, Sables, golden Oare,
Dive in the depths, before they vent a shore;
But wee runne no such hazard: for wee seaze
On Him, who in Him seazeth wholy these.
For all things else are losse, hows'ere possest.
If wee have wealth, perchance, wee have not health;
If wee have health, perhaps, wee have not wealth;
If health and wealth, yet friendship may be scant;
If health, wealth, friendship, wee may honour want;
If health, wealth, honour wee injoyers be,
Yet what are these, if wee want libertie?
But God is all in one, for it is hee
Who with a girdle bounds the surging Sea:
Nought may oppose his Empire, whose command
Reacheth from Sea to Sea, from Land to Land.
Dive in the depths, before they vent a shore;
But wee runne no such hazard: for wee seaze
On Him, who in Him seazeth wholy these.
Draw in thy sailes, my Muse; and muse on Him,
Who free from staine, assoiles our soules from sin.
Who, when the Waters compasse us halfe dead,
The Depths enclose us, weedes enwrappe our head;
When wee to th'bottome of the mountaines go,
And th'Earth with barres immures our bodies too;
Yet from the Pit will Hee our Spirits raise,
To whom bee still the sacrifice of Praise.
Who free from staine, assoiles our soules from sin.
Who, when the Waters compasse us halfe dead,
The Depths enclose us, weedes enwrappe our head;
When wee to th'bottome of the mountaines go,
And th'Earth with barres immures our bodies too;
Yet from the Pit will Hee our Spirits raise,
To whom bee still the sacrifice of Praise.
FINIS.
SONNET.
What is this WORLD, but a Sea,Or Flood-gate of Calamitie?
What LIFE, but a continued Wave,
That wafts Man o're unto his Grave?
What bee these Billowes swolne with winde,
But Passions of a troubled minde?
What bee these Windes that beate our Barke,
Sinnes that confin'd NOAH to his Arke.
What be these Sands on which wee runne,
These Shelves wee seeke, but seldome shunne;
Gravell to satisfie their minde?
What bee these Straits by which wee passe,
But thoughts of what Man is and was?
What be these Barkes wherein wee goe,
But Bodies ballaced with woe?
What is this Port where wee arrive,
But Death, which wee would faine reprive?
Since Life's Sea, Wave, Winde, Billow, Sand, Shelve, Straite,
Let Earth be our Retraite, Heav'n our Receite.
FINIS.
| The Fatall Nvptiall | |