heu quanta patimur cum musarum alumni fulmine hoc attoniti obstupescimus modulamur lepidè viuimus misere non vbera porrigit mater Academia vae nobis apud ecclesiasticos darivacuum apud philosophos nequaquam clamitant vulgi non esse motum generationis sed corruptionis haec communis glossa populi hinc lachrimae nostrae hinc singultus et gemitus virtutis penè sepultae quae adeo squalida et pannosa apparet vt nulla fides fronti Asylum tuum inter haec efflagito tu qui Atheis strenue effulges obstaculum mihi adsis et opusculo propugnaculum quod scripsi tua venerabili et paterna indulgentia nullam patietur apostasiam aut authorem suum abnegabit lurida aetas suauiorem non meretur fabulam aut cantilenam quà m vitiosam illius corruptelam acctoso plectro profligare cetera sileo supplex pro tua in terris vita in coelis corona militans ego non triumphans musophilos finem impono Gratiae tuae et summae pietati deuotissimus Robertus Anton. THE PHILOSOPHERS SECOND Satyr of Saturne ♄ THe next aboue this kingly Planets place Highest of all is Saturn's fullen face Pale and of ashie colour male content A Catelline to mortall temperament That would blow vp the Capitol of man With enuious influence melencholy wan And much resembling a deepe plodding pate Whose sallow iawbones sinke with wasting hate At others streames of fortunes whil'st alone His shallow current dries with lasting moane And if there hate be in a heauenly brest This Plannet with that furie is possest Suspending our propention with bad fate Inspiring Tragick plots of death and hate Torturing our inclinations like a wrack To dismal proiects ominous and black Prodigious thoughts and deepe-fetcht treacheries Beating the skul with sullen phantasies And marke what downe-cast looks we see in Nature This Planet fathers for a fatall creature And each profound plot drawne from sullen earth From Saturn's spirit is inspir'd with birth And yet Philosophers affirmed thus That Saturnists were most ingenious Who long retaine their great Italian-hate Wittie in nothing but things desperate To glut reuenge with studious memorie Of shallow wrongs or some slight iniurie VVhich if this be his wit to study ill Take my wits mad-man leaue me simple still Vnder this dogged starre th' infected moode Of discontented Graduates hatch their broode Flying like swallowes from the winters frost To warme preferment in a forren coast And there vent all their long digested hate In scandalous volumes gainst the King and State Flying from Tarsus to proud Niniuie Recusants both in faith and loyaltie Apostates in religion when they please Brauely to mount the Crosse they crosse the Seaes These from this humerous Planet suck their birth Leauing deepe wounds vpon their mother earth What cause hath mou'd thee thou deep malecontent To change thy faith with the aires Element If Angli are cald Angeli Oh tell Why hath their pride thrown these frō heauen to hel Is it because thou hast sung sweete in all The liberal Arts and now through want doost fall Or doost thou wonder at pluralities Impropriations or absurdities Of a lay Patron that doth still present An asse before a grand proficient Why maruell not at these preposterous crimes That very Heathen men in former times Haue scoft at in excesse of bitter iest And like true prophets thus these times exprest Giue to thy Cooke saith th' one full twenty pound To thy foole ten but to a man profound As thy Physitian ten groates shall suffice Thus thus appeares a Scholers miseries For should blind Homer come to sing his song With Lyrick sweetnesse or the Muses tongue Had he all languages that first began At the confusion to astonish man Yet with a Coachman he durst not contend For wages though Apollo stood his friend For thriue they cannot by the sacred Arts. A Coachman Taylor or the Faulkeners parts Dwell in the breast of greatnesse but indeed Time must haue changes though all vertue bleede Yet I could wish to turne the sullen tide Of their dull Planet to a rectified And more calme motion and a while restraine The turbulent billowes of their sullen vaine VVith temperat moderation to appease In Halcion-smoothenes all those rougher seaes Of passion and sequesterd discontent No aire so sweet as their owne Element As death to fish torne from their naturall place Expires their waterie spirits in like case That man that from his naturall mother flies Buried in strangers earth his dutie dies Yet time may calme that hot-spur'd violence Of fugitiue Saturnists as in naturall sense We see in heauie bodies throwne by force By strong compulsion thwarting natures course Chasing the aire with strong actiuitie Yet towards his end the moouing facultie Chast with precedent motion faints and dies And in consumption to his center hies VVhich is the cause why motions violent Their spirits spent creepe to their Element Which first were made of motion sith at last That vertue dies by which he first was cast As farre from his beginning So time shall change Their violent passions who are borne to range Transported with a furious discontent When all their Romish witchcrafts hath neere spent Their violent motion then with deere-bought paine They moue vnto their sweete-aire once againe Yet trust not to the mercie of the yeeres To reconcile by time that which appeares Times shame in thy originall despaire Once fall'n heauens may but wondrously repaire For though relapses are not cured with ease He 's safe that meetes his first spice of disease Which to preuent leaue of that surgerie That makes your soule a bare Anatomie And cuts the flesh of your more bleeding land With Lions hearts not with a Ladies hand In poysons counterpoysons doe contend Rather liue here poore then at Rome offend Vse learning as a looking-glasse to see What others are in thy infirmitie But not as burning-glasses gainst the Sunne To force a fire to thy ambition But as Archimedes his cunning plies That by reflection burnt whole Argos eies With artificiall glasses so from each hart His Countries good tithes the most punctuall part Of Art and Nature whose diuided ends Shares euerie man to Countrie Kings and Friends The seuen wise Sages of Philosophie Whom golden pages keepe in memorie In spight of Enuy crownd Art with this praise Their countreys wore the Oliue they the Bayes Which showes that Monarchies or Policy Diuided into this triplicity Then on a sollid base did firmly stand When Art was pure restoratiue to their land And prickt no veine of their owne natiue clime But gaue a temperet dyet to the time Vrging no forraine nations to enforce Their naturall tempers crosse to natures course Then learning florisht without Sophistry Or mixture of selfe-pleasing phantasie Reason did checke an high opinion'd minde And Schollers like some wealthy men definde To be but simplex animall that then Like citizens now were held the
and vice with some base Players tongue When vertue shall command like Orpheus strings Euen senselesse stones to follow when he singes The musicke of the soule that sweetly sounds The meanes of honor and the vertuous grounds Of our well fingered actions and snall tell In Oracles how our best acts excell The worst of enuie though her toadelike wombe Burst in her venom euen within our tombe Then since great Prince that time must bring you rage To act one part vpon this earthly stage Oh let your vertuous actions keepe such meane As Angels may applaud your lifes best Sceane Which you shall doe by acting what is good That when your riper yeeres haue vnderstood That the chiefe seate of honour is the hart Diffusing motion to each princely part And like the soule whom Schooles hold all in all In euery member is essentiall Compleate and vndiuided not begot Of Thales element to die and rot Then your experience with confession ioynd Shall hold that practick vertue of the mind Is your best summum bonum and not stroule To Platoes fain'd Ideas of the soule Or Epicures sect whose happinesse Their Schooles maintain'd to be voluptuousnesse And not in fortune that all power can Or Stoicall necessitie in man Or in this later heresie that growes That the best bonum countes the best of clothes But vertue put to action which doth keepe And put a waking difference from sleepe And drowsinesse in vertue which though good If ne're in action ne're is vnderstood These cautions make you worthy of this starre When others onely heare of Iupiter That your bright honour euer may appeare And moue within an vnecclipsed Spheare But now I mount vnto the Souldiers starre Some Cannon fire my pen to rage and warre TO THE RIGHT HONOVRABLE THE EARLE OF ESSEX BARON OF EWE R. A. wisheth all grace with heauen and earth Of Mars ♂ NOble Lord Themistccles desired the art of obliuion I the practick of memorie whose hell and heauen presentiue facultie cannot produce a fairer forme of eternitie then in the vnimitable Idea of your Mars borne honourable Father the best of his fortunes I could wish were traduced to you and the best of his actions deseruing a fixt constellation as totally diffused through euery noble veine of your Honour as the best part of your essence is in your bodie the contemplatiue part of time admits not a fairer prospectiue of Honour The character of Mars is but his counterseit and I could wish it yours by adoption Arts and Armes should be like hypocrates twinnes reciprocall in their first ingredience and borne together with a most sweet and louing sympathie The merit of a Souldier and a Scholer hates poligamie and are but one flesh I know you are nobly tutored in the one and I could wish you Laurcated in the other The poyson of the times hath no better Antidote then vertue the least doze of it makes honor nobly preseruatiue I haue here prescribed it and may it worke in you his phisicall operation my dutie bound to the stricktest and most peremptorie remembrance of your Honour administers this diet disgest and be a long liude patient it is the Souldiers cordiall and a Noble restoratiue Your Honours humble deuoted Robert Anton. THE PHILOSOPHERS FOVRTH Satyr of Mars ♂ WHat by his nature moues and would aspire Vnder this Planet borrowes his hot fire What horrid furie bursts his chaines in hell And frights the earth doth in this Planet dwell Blood death and tragick stories Mars doth yeeld A Golgotha of graues whose purple field Died crimson with his fatall massacres Craues bloodie inke and Scarlet Characters A pen that like a bullets force would reele A marble conscience or a hart of steele But not of battels or that Sanguine flood That at Phillipi Brutus stain'd with blood Nor of that cruell and Barbarian warre Wherein two Kings sign'd by a blazing starre To a prodigeous death such horror wonne As with amazement frighted Christendome Nor of that bloodie siege and tragicall Made famous by our English Generall That in our age fell in the Belgian warres When like an Ocean with red Massacres The moorish earth did tide vp ore the brim As if the center did 'gainst nature swim But to another Posterne drils our Muse Marching in martiall Satyrs of abuse Tell me thou ragged man of Armes that weares Onely thy Passe for seruice many yeeres And by each pettie Constable conueide As if thy wounds in peace were greater made With Headboughes and Beadles then grim warre Could through a groue of Pikes launch in so farre Why are thy scars bought with such pretious cost So tortured by a sencelesse whipping post But a more grosser time that cannot see In peacefull times what want of Souldiers be The dull Athenians offered sacrifice To Mars when warres began to tyranize But when the furie of stearne warre did cease His hallowed Altars lay vntoucht with peace Souldiers are Saints in steele Gods in their beauers Ador'd like Esculapius in hot Feauers Of blood and warre but when their steele-coates rust And their bright armes ore-cast with peacefull dust Behould you sonnes of thunder th' end of all Are Vsurers almes and a poore Hospitall Let Sacars Culuerings and Cannons sound In honour of their bones and rock the ground With all your deafning terrors for behold The Balsum for your wounds are rich mens gold Powder the world with wonder and thus crie The Camel now may passe the needles eie The Iewish age growes holy and precise And builds a Sinagogue to sacrifice Their charitable surfets when they die That liuing whipt away bright charitie You hacksters flesht in bleeding Massacres Thinke on your maimed stumpes your powerfull stars That worke this operation in prowde man Misers liue Iewes and die as Christian That el e in peace had laid as if forlorne The bitter subiect of the ages scorne The Stockfish to seuerest Iustices Beaten to death with warrants of the peace And good behauiour martred with the rage Of Constables whose furie can asswage Nothing but night and wine that all things steepe In the deepe Lethe of the god of sleepe For seest thou not thou man of othes and harmes When Mars makes holliday and allth ' Allarmes Of your Rock-braining Engins are strooke dumb By bright Astreas charmes and Vnion How armes are banisht to his yron Mines And time growne banquerout of those disciplines That martial Pyrrhus to his Souldiers red Or'e the braue Romans in Phalanges led That then who cares for Souldiers but forgot In warres they lose their limbes in peace they rot As if our blessings had so sure a Creed Ne're to vse Souldiers for we scorne their need Or doth our carelesse peace like Scipio deeme Neuer lesse sole then when it sole doth seeme Without a Souldiers strong Atlantick power That on his shoulders props that starrie bower And fabrick of a State as if a Lethargy Had silence't vp th' eternall memory Of Norris Veare and valiant Willobee That
health in both the Worlds Of Venus ♀ MAdam behold your vertues doe intice The best of art to write the worst of vice That as the beautious forme of christall light Opposde to darknesse seemes more richly-bright So from the times worst obiects you may spie How vertue shines best by her contrarie And best doth edifie when to our sense She seemes to vertue in her innocence Like some cleare liquid cloud against the Sunne In proudest formes of opposition Heere shall you see the Anatomie of times And imperfections bowelld with the crimes Of brazen impudence condemn'd to death Like Traytors breathing an infectious breath From your sweet fauours I began this booke And hope a faire successe from your faire looke As earth to heauen presented to our sense Seemes but a point to the circumference Compar'd to his large bodie so in show Are these my studies vnto that Iowe Vnto your Ladiship this mite shall speake My Art and Hart both gratefull although weake As Dwarfes seeme gracious so may proue this elfe This booke though small may teach great time it selfe Your Ladiships humble and poore Kinsman of his duty Robert Anton. 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 Citharaea 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 heaun 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 hushand 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 Cornuted Caesar with her lustfull play Here may thy Satyr riot with thy pen And lash to blood this crooked fate of men Whose shameleswiues o'r warmd 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 Galliflaues 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 worship 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 wiues 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 hollidaies 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 dissect The Anotomie of woman whose defect May reade such Physicke to their longing sexe As what most horrid guilt of lust deâ—ects 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