University of Virginia Library

Scœn. 1.

Phevdippe.
Amidst my slumber, circumvolu'd with doubt,
In this thicke midnight darknesse, now all sence
Securely lyes inchain'd; now potent dreames,
With vnresisted awe, rule the dead lumpe
Of mans poore fabricke; now all humane flesh,
Kings, and the sterne-brow'd Tyrants doe submit
Their maiesty to Sleepes Imperiall feet.
Now, not long since I dream'd, and could with ease,
Vtter the subiect, how a mishapen hag,
His haire full horrid blacke, huge were his eyes,
Bigge, like a bowle encompassed with bone,
Thrice did the Impe appeare, did vanish thrice,
Three massy Crownes, of worth inæstimate,
(Had they enioy'd a worth substantiall:)
Thrice did hee shew, and thrice againe withdraw
The hallowed obiects, then a pace proclaime
Quod libet, licet, and away departs.
I then awak't, strooke with extreme amazement,
And nimbly leaping from a secûre couch,
Came to expell this ominous affright.
Reading, or whatsoeuer can auaile
The vigor of temptation, to withstand,
Wee should perhibite (though against our will.)
Heer's an aspiring Poet, whose proud touch,
May eleuate some braine aboue the flight
Of nimble apprehension; Il'e vnclaspe
Thy sacred volume, Lucan: Il'e content
My rouing fancy with full argument.
He writes of witherd sculs, of mutiny,
Ominous apparitions of the dead,
Of Cæsar, Pompei, and Imperiall state,
Of combats forreigne, of domesticke broyles,
Of dire inuasion, of ambitious warre,
(What-euer makes vs noble) fortitude,
Of expert vndertaking, of euent:
O hee's a fellow able to inflame
The frosty stomacke of a staru'ling youth,
Who wholly feeds on rheumish winter-plums.
An Author of commanding Altitude,
And such a man giue me; a man of worth,
Who makes the reader rub his paled brow,
Makes idle nature melt away in fume,
Giues breath and courage to out-puffe the Cannon:
Such Authors you may feele at fingers end,
They gallop in your bloud, prouoke each veine,
To giue them passage without violence,
Bella per amathios plusquam ciuilia campos
Iusq, datum scelers canimus populumq, potentem:
Nec quenquam nunc ferre potest, Cæsar-ve priorem
Pompeius-ve parem: quis iustùs induit armæ
Scire nefas: magno se indice quisque tuctur.
Ah Pompei, Pompei, if thy hallowed acts,
Once more might flourish, I would æmulate
Those bold incounters; ô most happy men,
Whom Fate enroules to bee victorious:
They conquer, spoyle, subuert, and ædifie
Turne Dukes, nay Kings to common Parasites,
And make the proudest flatter to winne life:
Yet Kings are mighty: yes and æquall too;
(Though weake, although base cowards by the law
Of naturall indowment) yet the name
Doth yeeld them æquall; nay aboue the same
Which often doth enrich a conquerour.
What may we hence collect? a principle,
A maxime of no vulgar consequence:
Subiects are base, and to acknowledge one
Superiour, doth note seruility:
O what a most perpetuall slaue is man,
If not the chiefest in prædominance?
Let obscûre polititians be content
As chiefe in Parish; or some petty Towne,
I'de make Dominions tremble with a frowne:
Make euery subiect, high and low obserue
The heauy danger of our discontent,
Or make a precious forfeit of each life.
Woe to that King where subiects be inflam'd
With greater zeale of eminence then hee:
There must inuasion triumph, timelesse death,
Rapes, murther, all iniquity of age:
By gulfes, by rockes, eu'n by the iawes of hell.
Wee swim who would obtaine the gates of heauen.
O what a large deuinity's involu'd
About the awfull phrase of Emperour.
The name, the name of King, how it awakes
Our caitife blood, quickens our faculty!
Ambition be my iudge, if I were sicke,
Wounded with pistols, out of hope to liue,
Forsaken by all Art and physicke law,
Lay speechlesse in my chamber, lost my sence
Of man or voyce making no difference
Yet through the magicke of this powerfull sound;
You are a King, (if hallowed in my eare)
I should againe recouer, should recoyle
Skip forty fadome from the couch, and sing,
Dance without shame, though naked, without noise
Trample amid the pauement, touch my roofe,
Run giddy with glad passion, rub my veines,
Like one reuiu'd anew, esteeme all base
Vnder bloud-royall, be a ranke mad man,
Till ioy and rapture both were cleane digested.
How readily mans temper is traduc'd?
How forceable temptation doth oppose
The supernaturall act of doing well?
Wee are like windemils on ambitious mounts,
Open to euery tempest, which will turne
Our sailes without resistance: like the waues
Wurried from shores to rocks; from rocks to shelfe;
Man is not man till he deny himselfe.
Yet on our state's impos'd a slauish curse,
To see things good, though we conniue at worse.