University of Virginia Library

The Prologue.

Stay now my quick wing'd Coursers, stay your flight
So long at least as till I may find out
What strange unusual wonder hath possest
This earthly Globe, and what rare virtue lives
Which hath the power, within so short a space,
Thus to transform the world.
And in the interim let th' Antipodes,
These strange unknown inhabitants which dwel,
Below this Sphere, injoy the pleasing light
Of the daies burning Lamp, beyond their wont;
And you swift-wing'd Damsels that attend
Still on my person, for a time suspend
Your hasty flight (as once before you did,
When the renown'd Alcides was conceiv'd)
And let the restlesse Spokes and whirling Nathes,
Of my Eternal Chariot on the proud
Aspiring back of towring Atlas rest;
Nor let the shining God which by his beams,
Makes such a difference in your borrowed lights,
Seem discontent that I usurp a while,
Upon the time prescribed for my raign,
In our devided Empire; for himself
Whil'st once he needs would stay, to be a kind
Spectator of anothers Victory,
Held in his hand his burning torch beyond
The limits of his hours, so to befriend
That brave Heroick Hebrew in the fight.
He made against the opposers of his might:
But least perhaps the knowledge who I am,
Should seem as dark to any, as my looks,
And this my gloomy visage seems obscure,
Let them that do desire to know my name,
And what the truth of my condition is,
Behold this Sable Chariot and observe,
These golden trappings, and from thence collect,
Both who, and what I am: The heedlesse rout
Of the self-heady multitude, do call
Me impious Nurse of Error, mother of
Enchantments, and foul horror, and a friend
To Vice, and wickednesse: But I am she,
That do produce true Mirth and Jollity,
The quaint allayer of unquiet thoughts,
The sole dispencer of sweet pleasing dreams,
And Universal rest.
Great Queen of Shades, Eternal Warrior,
That lead under the Colours which I bear,
Adorn'd with silver spangles, Legions of
Bright shining Stars, which do incamp me round;
Whilst I arm'd all in darknesse do destroy,
The glorious day, and after crown'd with lights,
And carried through this spacious Hemisphere,
In this eternal Chariot do triumph,
Over the day so foild.
'Tis I, that to you Mortals shew the Mines
Of precious Saphires, and the treasure of
Immortal Carbuncles, and so divide
Into a world of sparks, one fire alone,
As shews a thousand shining Suns for one.
Night, night, the daughter of the earth I am,
Do you not know me you blest lovers? Can
You now forget her? whom you oft have call'd,
The faithful Secretary of your close,
And amorous thefts? how many times have I
Conceal'd you under my black gloomy shades,
Whilest you have secretly past free from sight,
To reap your stoln delights?
And you young Damsels, what sweet hidden joys,
What private pleasures have you of't injoy'd
Under the shadow of my dusky raies?
How often by the gentle virtue of
This my sweet gentle son, although he be
Deaths elder brother; have I chear'd your faint
And wearied spirits, and restor'd you to
The powers of life again: and shutting up
Your dull dim eyes, have let your fancies see
Those pleasing Images of Loves best joys,
Which rapt your souls into a Paradice
Of amorous delights.
To you at least, I cannot but be dear,
(If I be not deceiv'd) Magnanimous
Brave Heroes, since I alone am she
By whom your everlasting monuments,
Describ'd in glistering characters of gold,
And written in the spacious volume of
The vast celestial sphere, amongst my clear,
Bright shining signs, do live eternally:
Environ'd there, with troops of glorious Stars,
Amongst a thousand others clearly shines
He that so many cruel Monsters queld:
Nor can I doubt, but I shall be as dear
To you my amorous spectators, who
Within your sweet aspects, do sweetly bear
Beauty and Love, since all my care is how
To imitate in my bright shining Lamps,
The glorious beams which shine out of your eyes,
And since the Goddesse of rich beauty, and
That lovely Star, which gently doth inspire
Into your gentle hearts the flames of Love,
Is not the least of those bright Sisters, which
Attend upon my train.
From you I therefore do desire to know,
The cause of this so rare an accident:
What is it I behold here? is not this,
The Isle of Scyros, this the River where,
Led by the power of Fate, the Thracian ship,
All rent and torn, so lately furled up
Her weather-beaten sails? 't is not long since
I saw the brinish Waves, fall swoln with pride,
So raise their fierce aspiring rage, against
High Heaven it self, as that together with
Those other Fishes which instead of Scales,
Are all adorned with bright shining stars,
The swift Celestial Dolphin might have swum,
Within the neighbouring Sea.
'T is not long since I saw those flashing beams,
With blazing Ensigns of hot burning flames,
Run through the spacious Region of the Air,
And every minute threaten this whole Isle,
With endlesse Battels of confounding blasts,
And ever showring Rain.
Loud claps of Thunder, with their roaring noise,
As Trumpets of the universe were heard,
Now here, now there, in those confused wars,
Of all the troubled Elements to sound
The bold defiance of the winds.
Impetuous Whirl-winds, with most horrid flaws,
Those blustring Combatants might then be seen,
With fearful Shocks to Just and Tourney both
In a fierce Duel 'twixt them two fought here,
Within the circuit of this Hemisphere:
Then tell me Mortals, tell me who is he,
To whom high Heaven hath vouchsaf't that Grace,
To reconcile the disagreeing jars,
Of such fierce enemies, and settle them
Thus in a friendly peace.
Who is it that clears up my duskie looks?
Dries my now humide Mantle? and thus gilds
My sable hair? that was so lately hung,
With dangling Pearls of cold congealed hail,
And moistned in the fogs of cloudy mysts?
What new created light thus forceth me
To change my innate quality? Behold
The late distemper'd Heavens seem to smile,
The waters smile, the earth adorn'd with flowers
Opens her fruitful bosome, and displaies
Her various store, in emulation of
My brighter April stars.
I see no more now of a Tempest here,
But flashing beams of Honour, blazing lights,
Of Love and Beauty: O rare Miracle,
What cannot the all powerfull virtue of
Divine Celestial beauty bring to passe?
Yours be the thanks blest eyes, in whose Serene
Triumphant Arches, still so clearly shines
A gentle Rainbow, which can pacifie,
Not winds and storms alone, but all the Gusts
Of a disturbed Soul.
But Oh! what glorious raies now dart their light
Upon my gloomy visage? What bright Lamp,
With too much splendor blinds my feeble sight?
Though like an immense Peacock I do bear,
Within my train the sparkling glory of
A thousand glittering eyes, yet all come short
Of this so bright an object, and as one
That still'd sires to gaze upon so clear,
So rich a Paradice of beauty; now
I wish I had a thousand more.
But stay! for there me thinks I see the Sun,
Eternal Painter, now begin to rise,
And Limn the Heavens, in Vermilian Dye,
And having dipt his Pencil, aptly fram'd
Already in the colour of the Morn,
With various temper, he doth mix in one,
Darknesse and light: And drawing curiously,
Straight golden lines, quite thwart the duskie skie,
A rough draught of the day he seems to yeeld,
With Red and Tawny in an Azure Field.
Already by the clattring of their Bits,
Their gingling harnesse, and their neighing sound,
I hear Eous, and fierce Pirous,
Come panting at my back: and therefore I,
Must flie away, and yet I do not flie.
But follow on my regulated course,
And those eternal Ordors I receiv'd
From the first mover of the Universe,
I do not flie the dawning of the day,
For envy of the light, or those bright raies,
Which deck the beauty of the blushing morn;
I do not flie the Sun, because I think
It any shame to me, that he should thus
Follow, and drive me now away from hence;
No, no, I flie (white snowy foreheads) from
Your clearer morning light, I flie, I flie.
(Fair beauteous eyes) from your bright shining beams;
Not that I scorn to be o'recome by them,
By whom the Sun is proud to be out-shin'd,
And dazeled with their light: but I am loath
To break the laws of Love, and 'tis Loves law,
That all the turns of Nature should subject
Themselves to change; and I should not retard
My quick return too long, to them that live
Beyond this Sphere, and now expect me there.
Thou then kind sleep, free those dull eyes that lie,
Opprest with slumber; and thou silence tie,
Mens busie tongues, that this day all the world,
May with kind looks, and tacite thoughts behold,
The admirable fortune and rare fate,
Of Thirsis and fair Phillis those two blest,
Procurers of this Islands happy rest,
And you dear daughters of the humide air,
Begotten by the influence of the Moon,
You fruitfull nourishers of herbs and flowers,
Fresh morning Dews, now shut your silver Urns;
For now the fields have satisfied their thirst,
And meads have drunk their fill: Flie you swift hours
And lightly hasten to the latest step,
Of that large scale, by which I use to passe,
Beyond the bounds of this Horizon, Flie.
And you bright followers of Cinthia, now
Pursue the dance which to the Harmony,
Of the Celestial Spheres, you use to tread
Upon the Airs vast Theater, and whilst
Sweet pleasing Musick fills the courteous ears,
Of all these beautifull Spectators here.
Put out your Lights, for now the night is done,
And leave your places to th' approaching Sun.