Miscellany Poems :: :: University of Virginia Library

Let other Poets treat of lofty Things,
The rise of States and fall of Captive Kings:
A lower subject doth my Muse invite,
An humbler Theme, but of no less Delight.

A bloody Battle late was sought between
Two Combatants of different hopes and Meine.
One, the proud Captain of the brooding Race,
That doth the Yard o'th' carefull Houswife grace:
With tender Chuck calls the admiring Rout,
And proudly leads th' obsequious Hens about:

The drowsie Peasant's Clock, whose wakefull throat
Doth Midnight's shades and Day's approach denote:
Calls up from his course Bed the snoring Hind,
Whom Sleep's strong fetters do securely bind,
While guilty Greatness can no Quiet find.
The Creature, whom enjoyment can't appease,
But Raves in lust, and Rivals all his Race;
Not a Seraglio his Desires can please.
Impatient Lust doth in his Visage lie,
And deadly Rage dwells in his bloody Eye.

The Other of the Combatants was one
Of meaner hopes and expectation:
Not much unlike in shape, but much in Meine,
Nor Male, nor Female, but a sort between.
Monster! not made by Nature, but by Art;
Whose sex the carefull Housewife did impart:
Who conscious, Lust did fret the Nerves away,
And on Life's Balsame did too freely prey,
With bloody Knife did rob him of the prize,
Where Love is plac'd, and some say, Courage lies.
Angry with all the World for th' Inju'ry done,
A melancholly sullen Creature grown,
He Consort shuns, and loves to be alone.
Ghastly and pale he look'd, whether for fear,
Or rage at the Misfortunes, he did bear,
Or want of generous spirits and active fires,
Which daring uncontrouled Love inspires:
Each part unseemly look'd, but most of all
The bending Feathers of his useless Tail.

The Combat nois'd, to the unusual Sport
A gallant Train of Noble Youth resort.
All do the Castrate's sneaking looks deride,
And give their suffrage o'th' proud Champion's side.

Till from the rest

Sr. Justinian Isham.

One, born of noble Race,
Whom Honour, Beauty, Wit, and Worth did grace;
Whether it was his perspicacious Eye
Did growing sparks of hidden Valour spy;
(And who of Valour greater Judge than He?)
Or that he scorn'd to walk i'th' beaten road,
The common Path, that all the Vulgar trod;
Or that, as generous Spirits do, He chose
To lend his help unto the weaker cause,
As Cato did thô Gods did him oppose:
Castrate's Defence he took, and thus he spoke.
“Narses did once an Empire's fate revoke:
“Renown with Kingdoms he did bravely win
“And Victory sat on his beardless Chin.
“Europe and Asia still deplore the fate,
“That Sinan Bassa's Valour did create!
“Both fill'd with Fame and Honourable scars;
“Unfit for Venus, fit for Mars's Wars..
O're Castrate's Soul the pleasing Accents spread,
And lifted up his long-dejected Head.
Great thoughts in his depressed Mind did grow,
And glowing Heat thrô every Limb did flow,
From valiant Race he sprung, (if Fame says true)
And his Descent from bloody Warriours drew:
Till Numerous Injuries and long Disgrace
(Scorn'd and contemn'd by all the female Race)
His high-born generous Spirit did debase.
But now swell'd up by Praise to bloody Fight,
Praise, that the Coward doth to Fame excite,
With deep Revenge his Soul doth inward bleed,
And Jealousie doth on his Liver feed,
A Jealousie from Impotence that's bred.
Rage, Madness; and Revenge his soul possess,
And his torn Heart to mighty Acts address.

Fierce Chanticleer with haughty scornfull Pride
And mix'd Disdain over the Pit did stride,
And did th' Unworthy Combatant deride:
But, see'ing at last he did to fight prepare,
He gives the signal to th' unlucky Warr,
With that shrill Note, that ope's the Morning's Eye,
That dreadfull Note, that makes even Lions fly:
And with Revenge, which his proud Soul did swell,
He like a Tempest on his Enemy fell.
Both met, both others heightned Courage try'd,
And in deep Gore their shining Weapons died.

The Cautious Castrate let his eager Foe
In haughty Vaunts and scorn his strength bestow:
Disgrace and long-felt Shame had made him wise,
Taught him grave Arts and usefull Policies:
How to beguile a fierce and eager Foe,
How to ward off, and how return a Blow;
With circling winding Course his Foe deceive,
And deadly and unlook'd-for wounds to give.
To make his Enemie's fierceness useless still,
To fly and wound, and Parthian-like to kill.
With various fortune the event they try,
One doth on Force, th' other on Fraud rely,
And Victory with equal wings doth fly.
Besmeard with gore, with blood and fury red,
Blood they drink down, and showers of blood they shed.

With loss of blood at length the Cock grows faint,
And doth, too late, those fiery spirits want,
Which he so prodigally spent to please
The Lust of all his Speckled Mistresses:
Finds, what his glory was, his shame doth grow,
And Lust, that heightens, doth enervate too.
Yet scorning longer a base Foe to' engage,
He summons the remains of force and rage:

One blow he with united Forces made.
And Castrate senseless on the Pavement laid.

Netled with the Disgrace, brave Castrate rose:
Disgrace, that sparks of hidden Valour blows,
Ferments within, and wakes the sleeping seeds,
That many years lay dead, to gallant deeds.
All, that from Rage or wrankled Malice flow,
All, that Revenge or Jealousie can show,
All, that past Scorn, Disgrace, or biting Slight;
All in one fatal bloody Blow unite;
Which strow'd the Cock supinely on the ground,
While Blood and Life flow'd from the gaping wound.
Castrate on his fall'n Foe with pride did tread,
And lifting up his late-dejected Head,
He would have Crow'd, to show the Victory;
But barr'd by former wrongs that faculty,
He Cackled something out, which those, that know
The Tongue, he spoke in, do interpret so.
“Here the Insulting Conquerour doth lie,
“Mighty in Venus School, that could supply
“The Love of twenty Hens, and every Morn
“With fiery Lust his blushing Cheeks adorn.
“Venus and Mars have different ways of fight;
“One doth in Love, th' other in Rage delight:
“Courage resides i'th' noble seat the Heart;
“But Love's confin'd unto a lower Part.