do create Unto themselves but every time and place Enjoy and all delightful things embrace Left troubled with their loss and not at all Fearful of what may afterwards befall 'T was otherwise with Cholmelan who was A man well form'd and many did surpass In strength and health and feature yet bethought Himself to bring his native good to nought For left his Raven-locks should soon grow white With unctuous gums he smear'd them every night And with dry powders vext them so by day That the whole bush was quickly fleec'd away And shew'd a skull like Time's upon a wall Save that it had no sore-top left at all But hair and horns grow fast and so his head After a while was roughly furnished With a new tress and then his onely care Was to keep up his carcass in repair He quak'd at thought of sickness if a Corn But pain'd his foot he was a man forlorn Quite out of tune and temper felt no doubt A grievous symptome of a woful Gout And must have either noxious humours thrust By physick forth or forthwith dye he must If at a Jovial crash he chanc'd to take Deep draughts that did at night in 's bowels make Unruly tumults all his house must be Disturb'd about his mad-brain'd malady And Doctors fetcht whose sober skill might lay Hold on his life that else would slip away Thus did he fool himself with physick thus Ere long as blasted and cadaverous Lookt his whole visage thus to ruine went His beauty thus his sinews were unbent His eyes beclouded tainted was his breath And lastly thus he dy'd for fear of death All his fat fortunes being purg'd away 'Mongst fatal Vultures gaping still for prey After hard labours men are well content Softly to rest and after banishment Fix joyful eyes upon their native seat Yet the same men their folly is so great After a world of trouble pain and strife Hateful to Nature are in love with life And would not that the friendly hand of fate Should plant them in a free and quiet State Of Natures bounty do they gladly taste With her in childhood seem to break their fast At full-grown manly age with her to dine And t' sup with her when strength doth now decline Yet grudge that Death the Servitour should play And take as with a Voider all away Why should men fear so what they nere did try And frame such bugs themselves to testifie Some dead men have been fetcht to life again But which of them did ever yet complain O' th' pains they suffer'd when their vital fire Did twinkle out their languid heat expire The wiser sort by meditation make Stern Death familiar and the boldness take To handle as it were his dart and spade Hence are they not of his sharp looks afraid But entertain him as a friendly guest That comes to fetch them to the fields of rest SATYRE XVII Against Detraction NOr I nor any that do Satyres write Please Glossamare who with invenom'd spight Shoots at us looking as the Parthians use Another way He sayes we much abuse Our pens and pains and are too partial To blemish others with besprinkled gall And t' clear our selves who oft more faulty are Then those whose credits we so much impair ' Hear Slanderer our answer if you know ' That in such cross and crooked wayes we go ' As you are lost in then free leave have you 'To shake your Scourge and jerk us smartly too ' Meanwhile like Furies shall we strive to fright ' You from your faults and make our Satyres bite ' And worry you for all your lewd and vile ' Aspersions that our fames do still defile ' Had you snarl'd so when Juvenal did write ' Flaccus or Persius sure they would have quite ' Shatter'd you with invectives tore your name 'To rags dampt out the sparkles of your fame ' Caus'd your foul slanders to reflect upon ' Your brazen brow to dash some shame thereon ' And make you hasten to a sword or knife 'To cut therewith your fretted thread of life Those that like Aesops Frog with envy swell At others that the common crew excel And noted are for wit wealth dignity Or great mens favour break ill-favour'dly Int' spightful language thinking to abase Their worth by slinging at them foul disgrace And raising dust as 't were to dim mens sight Left of such objects they should judge aright Let no man think t' escape the brandisht tongue Of calumny sith he that primely sung The fate of Ilium the old Moenian Bard And th' other aptly unto him compar'd Brave Virgil high in style and deep in sense Grave l'lato too that wing'd his eloquence With heavenly phancies and the Stagirite That sent through Natures orb so clear a light Were all too sharply censur'd all besprent With gall and weight of malice under-went Yea he that sometime like a Sunny ray Was sent from Heaven our fatal debt to pay To whose clear vertues treasures were impure And worthless and the Lightning-flash obscure He that cur'd all our maladies procur'd All blessings for us all our pains endur'd Was rankt with wretched sinners neretheless Charg'd home with Devlilish arts and deep excess And many others ills well known to be Their in-mates that belcht our such blasphemy The baneful Serpent that t' our mother Eve Gave th' apple did thereon such poison leave As fills all humane kind with canker'd spight And makes them vent the same with much delight Where can we find a knot of company So fast and friendly as will not let fly Their tongues to hateful contumelious talk Nor let them through more lives and manners walk Then ere Ulysses saw A meer surmise Though nere so false will give their calumnies Sufficient colour any slight presence Seems ground enough for black maledicence ' Observe you not said Wolfang th' other day ' How our great Rabbi does on 's cushion lay 'A written book and ever squints at it ' When he is damning us to th' Stygian pit ' For less faults then his own I boldly say ' That he that cannot preach nor scarcely pray ' Without his papers is more fit to troul ' Ballads then deal in business of the soul ' His Doctorship's a Dullard past all cure ' Of sharp reproof he is a Preacher sure ' As wooden as his Pulpit and his brains ' As barren as the sand his glass contains ' If Universities bring up such fools ' May War and Sacriledge bring down their Schools ' And what 's his pure Disciple Theophil ' That melts at Sermons as he would distil ' His matt'ry brain through th' limbeck of his nose ' And on the poor such largesses bestowes ' He 's a rank Hypocrite a rotten post ' All vanisht ore a painted tomb that cost ' Much idle artship a gay thing of naught 'A shining glass with poison inly fraught ' That soon will break 't For sure he cannot hold 'Long though his coffers
seem else would they not delight So much to see rude beasts to tug and fight And take more pleasure in th' antipathy Of such then in all loves compliancy Old Româ— saw this and often would bestow Great cost in making many a savage show The ruder sort to please who onely took Delight at first on fighting beasts to look But afterwards as if they had by th' eye Drunk in full draughts of bloudy cruelty They thought it braver sport upon the stage To see sword-players fiercely to engage Themselves in fight and seldome off to goe Till Death stept in and gave a parting blow Augustus though less taxt for tyranny Then many of his high flown family Did yet command that onely loss of life Should be the up-stroke of the tragick strife And one or both that made the people sport Should fall in earnest dye in woful sort O men of stony bowels steely breasts Ruthless Spectators brutisher then beasts Traitors to Nature that with smilling eyes Could view those dire prodigious cruelties And if a Caitiff slave all hew'd and hackt Did when his spirits fail'd and heart-strings crackt Beg a discharge that he might longer live Would not to th' wosul wretch that savour give But urge on mischief whilst his wounds gap'd wide For pity weeping streams of bloud beside Till all the sand that on the Stage did lye Wore the deep crimson dye of cruelty Men make their eyes the in-lets of offence And he that frequently his optick sense Feeds on fell objects cannot but thereby Surset into hard-hearted cruelty Cannot but grow obdurate by degrees And lose all sense of others miseries The Spaniards when they planted first in rich Peru and other Coasts that did bewitch Their eyes with shining treasures were not so Like savage Wolves as they did after grow When they had often sluced out the bloud Of the poor Natives that in vain withstood The sweeping stream of avarice for then They us'd them more like noisome beasts then men Shot stabb'd brain'd thousands others forc'd by flight To seek wild thickets taking much delight To tire them with pursuit to make them preys To hungry Mastiffs to bestrew the wayes With their torn limbs and sometimes ore the heads Of multitudes to fire the leavy Sheds Thus they that boast that th' all-surveying Suns Light ever shines on some Dominions Of their great Kings and got so clear a fame By brave Sea-travels did obscure and shame Themselves by cruelties so strangely wild And fierce as all humanity exil'd There 's no such cruelty as that of wars And he that of those harsh tumultuous jars â—pens the bloudy sluce to let in fate The curse of Heaven and all good peoples hate Justly incurs Can earth afford a sight More horrid then to view in eager fight Armies engag'd When Cannons thundring loudâ— Swords flash out lightning in a stifling cloud Of smoke and dust enraged Horses neigh Men grone and gush out bloud here quivering lye Bemangled limbs there heads are bowl'd along By their falls force here trunked bodies slung And trampled on there trailed guts are made Their gyves and chains that would not else be stay'd From acts of mischief and thus every where In baleful dress stern horrour doth appear But then the devastations of all sorts In times of war demolishing of Forts Razing of Castles burning of whole Towns Wasteful incursions into fruitful grounds Rapines taxations turning out o' th' door Whole families these and a thousand more Such wicked mischiefs heap up a degree Of high and most abhorred cruelty Are not those Princes highly then to blame Who whilst at prouder eminence they aim Or else stoop down to sordid avarice Envy or Lust or some such wretched vice VVhole Nations do embroil whole Kingdomes shake VVith the tempestuous tumults which they make Little regarding what their fury spends Of bloud or treasure so they gain their ends A letters interception an address T' a foâ—reign Prince on private business A jest a prying int' affairs of State Hath sometimes prov'd an instrument of fate To raise prodigious mischiefs that have shed Much bloud and mighty Kingdomes ruined Some such occasions as 't is said did stir Up that grim Lion the stout Swethlander To pass int' Germany and range for prey Beyond the bounds of vast Hercynia Leaving a tract of bloud a print of woe Such as that wretched Nation long will show Though to wash off so terrible a stain The Baltick waters were all spent in rain The worlds malignity in this appears More that whereas in some late bleeding years Men of high fortunes were by th' armed tout Pull'd from their perches now they go about Mad with revengeful thoughts to do some right Unto themselves by their undoing quite Of their weak vassals just as some that are Inflam'd with choler do but little care Whom they assault so that thereby they vent That angry heat that doth their hearts torment Poor wretched starvelings that as thinly look As half-pin'd pris'ners men whom wars have shook Almost no rags and brought as low as dust Must in their rents be onely rais'd and must As they have worn their flesh away their bloud In some sort lose I mean all livelihood When now with careful heads and painful hands They cannot answer to the hard demands Of pitriless oppressors straight they must As noisome creatures from their homes be thrust But first he stript almost as bare as those That Worms or Haddocks feed their goods must lose Of ruin'd families the doleful mones That well might soften the Ceraunian stones No more regarded are then childrens cryes That were to Moloch burnt in sacrifice Mine eyes have been the weeping witnesses Of a great Landlords greater wickedness That did depopulate a town and sent Poor people int' a kind of banishment That in their stead he might some gamesome Deer Empark and make more room for pleasure there If this oppressor that set light by sin Had as Actaeox metamorphos'd bin Into an Hart and by his own hounds rent In pieces just had been his punishment And much more mirth had from his branched pate Been rais'd then sorrow from his bloudy fate All things by Nature equally are free And nothing private but if industry Conquest or better hap hath men endow'd With riches must they needs grow fierce and proud And rush down all like torrents in their way This is to bear a rude impetuous sway As beasts do in the woods where force prevails And still the strong the weaker sort assails Those that with biggest words of manhood boats Most brutish are in deeds and tainted most With inhumanity a vice that waits Most frequently on gallant great estates When through high diet softness nicety Fastidious pride and quainter luxury Men are rob apt to break into a flame Of rage which reason knows not how to tame A small neglect a hum a nod a wry Look a knit brow or somewhat bold reply Hath sometimes set such persons in a heat And then like
TIMES out of TUNE Plaid upon HOWEVER In XX SATYRES By THOMAS BANCROFT JUVEN. Quicquid agunt homines votum timor ira voluptas Gaudia discurfus nostri farrago libelli est LONDON Printed by W. Godbid 1658 TO The nobly minded Gentleman and intimate friend of the Muses CHARLES COTTON of Berisford Esquire 〈◊〉 Sir THough he that writes as the Porcupine shoots his quills in a passionate mood as I do cares not much for the frowns of the muddy-pated multitude yet the number of Censors in our Common-wealth being greater than that of all Officers my Mute would gladly repose under your shadowing Lawrel that a flash of fierce displeasure may less dismay her Yet why should any Reader bend an angry brow at me that have not spotted one page here though it may otherwise seem with any ebullitions of a private spleen For though I have not seldome been surcharged with injuries yet have I learned to digest them with my daily bread and to think it more noble to contemn them then to confess their power by meditating a revenge Nor can I approve that bold speech of the sententious Poet as carrying too venomous a sting in it {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman} Great Heaven fall on me with broad roof of brasse Which to the Ancients a just terrour was If I help not my friends and bring not those To sorrow and distresse that are my foes It must needs be granted that Satyres are not very seasonable when all sorts of vices the foul dregs of war are setled into an unwonted impudency and not onely some antiquated evils revived but others also added to their hateful number that came but lately steaming out of th' infernal Vaporary I can hardly in times so foully vitiated expect any fair construction of my Poem nay rather do I look that some squint ey'd Malevolo's whom I never came within a Bow-length of will be busily shooting their bolts at me But I shall lightlier regard such squib-like artillery if more solid and less censorious men such as your self Sir are known to be will but illustrate my lines with the beams of their favour You are an heir to great Wits as well as to large Revenues and have made proof thereof in so eminent a manner that all men behold you as an object of admiration As others therefore look up at you be you pleased to look down at me and to take in good part these tart fruits of my labours intended for condiments to your sweeter studies You are furnisht I hope with as may vertues as here are vices and I with you as much happiness to crown them as possibly can be fancied by Your officious servant Tho. Bancroft To my learned friend Mr. Tho. Bancorft on his Book of SATYRES AFter your many works of diverse kinds Your Muse to treated th' Auruncan path designs 'T is hard to write but Satyres in these dayes And yet to write good Satyres merits praise And such are yours and such they will be found By all clear hearts or patient with their wound May you but understanding Readers meet They 'l find you marching upon stodfast feet Although your honest hand seems not to stick To search this Nations ulcers to the quick Yet your intent with your invective strain Is but to launce and then to cure again When all the putrid matter is drawn forth That poisons precious souls and clouds their worth So old Petronius Arbiter apply'd Corr'sives unto the age he did deride So Horace Persius Juvenal among Those ancient Romans scourg'd the impious throng So Ariosto in our fathers times Reprov'd his Italy for sundry crimes So learned Barclay let his lashes fall Heavy on some to bring a cure to all So lately Wither whom thy Muse does far Transcend did strike at things irregular But all in one t' include so our prime wit In the too few short Satyres he hath writ Renowed Donne hath sorebuk'd his time That he hath scar'd Vice-lovers from their crimes Attended by your Satyres mounted on Your Muses Pegasus my friend be gone As erst the Lictors of the Romans went With Rods and Axes for the punishment Of ills born with them that all vice may fly That dares not stand the cure when you draw nigh ASTON COKAIN Baronet To his quondam Master and now much honour'd friend Mr. THO. BANCROFT on his Book of SATYRES ALthough the times be out of tune we see They 're likely to be tun'd again by thee Who on the strings of Discord strikes a strain So powerful Discord sure no more can reign And I commend thy Genius who could'st chuse A noble Patron to protect thy Muse For he who 'gainst the rapid stream doth swin Of vice had needt ' be held up by the chin Yet I presume thy Sayres may do more Then twenty such as terribly can roar And thunder Hell yet when the crack is gone No more can find their Text then we the stone But he who can the depth of thy Book sound Shall there see Vice with its own Deluge drown'd So that from Contraries conclude I may Thy Vertue 's much that chid'st all Vice away THO. LIGHTWOOD To his ingenious Friend Mr. Tho. Bancroft on his Book of SATYRES I Praise thy aims though to an ulcerous state So rankly gangree n'd â—orr'sâ—â—es come too late Can ink-hued Sylvanes from thy Bradley wood To cheeks with guilt so hatcht call modest blood Admit their uncouth garb procure some â—â—rugs The brawny Giants soon will sleight those â—uggâ— Smâ—rt Beadles though who are improv'd toth' By Sinâ—is terrors and Mounâ—Ebals curse worse Taketh ' warlike verse whose maiden feet were dy'de With blond in quarrel of their Masters Bride Pluck qâ—ilâ— from th' iron-wing'd Stymphalides Bold to vie â—afts with mighty Hâ—rcules Make parchment of those living Eâ—gines kins That Darts Bowes Quiver are the Porcupines Write Furies ' stead of Satyres for a Muse Invoke Megara Scorpion-Scourges use Some Almanack aspect Diurnat plot May turn our giddy Santo ' Quakers not Thy sharpess style Yet touch them to the quick The world 's a Bedlam laâ— the Lunatick WILLIAM BOTT To the worthy Authour of these SATYRES BOld and brave Bancroft that dar'st fearless tell The Devil his name though at the mouth of Hell I crowd into thy Squadrons bold to greet Those hands that are supporters to thy feet But 't is by these thou conquer'st for 't is fit This Brutish age were kickt not whipt to wit No Spartan Mastiff nor Nicaean Steed Can equal thee in courage or in speed When thy just ire forces the age to drink The gall and vinegar of thy whole some ink Whilst from the steam of tainted ulcerous breath It belches characters of Hell and death Satyres and Causticks must their Medicines be Whom Odes and Unctions cannot remedie Thy Surgery is proper for the Land Oh that thou hadst but Physick to thy hand Bear up thou canst not but victorious stand Where the brave Moreland Prince does lead the Van
their wits new truths to understand ' For they 're as cross as Crab-fishes that move ' Backwards old ways already they reprove ' And much respect to parlour-preaching show ' But slackly to our steeple-houses go ' Which all men should behold with hatred since ' Of an high pinacle th' Infernal Prince ' Made Dev'lish use A multitude that were ' Blinder then Owls such buildings first did rear ' And few frequent them now save th' ignorant ' And superstitious that true light do want Here at I bustled up and in a rage Such as Orestes shews upon the Stage When Furies threaten him I flung away Scarce knowing whâ—ther I should curse or pray For such lewd Zelots that abuse the Rites Of fair Religion by unhallowed sleights Fye on th' imposture of this graceless age Deserves it not in a Satyrick rage To be with scourges torn as it doth tear Religions form and makes it to appear Like Lucrâ—â—â— when the poniard was infixt In her fair side and bloâ—d with tears commixt Lookt o' th' complexion of the Heavenly Bow Which ruddy beams and rorid vapours show 'T is time the world should finally be roll'd Int' darkness when blind Laicks are so bold To trouble with rude feet the sacred Springs Of Knowledge to lay hold on Heavenly things With unwasht hands and t' measure by their sense What far exceeds their brains circumference The Pagan Priests were mannerly devout And ever wont before they went about To offer sacrifice to mundifie Themselves by washing fasting chastity But our rash Sciolists that make a trade Of marring Texts as rudely do invade The Priestly Function as poor Souldiers storm A wealthy Town they matter not for form Nor decency therein but on it fall Down-right with motion simply natural Like their conceits Yet if thou canst enure Thy tender sense the wawlings to endure Of lust-stung Cats to hear the gastly Owl Scrietch at thy window or fierce Wolf to howl Canst brook the filing of hard metall'd Saweâ— Th' creaking of Carts or of our mongrel Laws Tâ—e snarling Terms then boldly mayst thou tâ—ach Thy prickt-up ears to hear these Rustiâ—ks â—reach Me thinks such Goat-herds for I were to blame To grace them with the harmless Shepherds name Should fear lest that the rev'rend shades of those Old Fathers that did holy Works compose Should terrifie and stop them in their way As sometime a bright Angel did affray Balam's rude beast Those mirrours of that age Wherein they liv'd their powers did engage To sound the depth of truth and with much pain The knowledge both of Tongues and Arts did gain Which shines yet so conspicuously that it Dazles with excellence each mâ—dern wit And seems no less miraculous then ought That they above the reach of Nature wrought But so rude are our Novellists that all Arts they deride save the Mechanicall And utterly would banish or suppress Like Iulian all the nobler Sciences Had such been with th' Apostles when from high The sacred Dove like rushing wind did fly They surely would have labour'd by their wrongs To have extinguisht all those fiery tongues Yet as in old Rome the chief Pontifies Were priviledg'd 'mongst other Liberties From rigid censures so thâ—se blundering Swains Scorn to be charg'd with weak erroneous brains But on their Auditours impose as Law Whatever from their muddy pâ—tes they draw Noble Theosoâ—hy that from above Art graced with thy Serpent and thy Dove Thou Crown of Sciences divinely clear And rich in beauty like the Heavenly Sphere How is thy celsitude dishonour'd by The scum of ignorance and peasantry Rotten Impostors Hypocrites in grain Whom none can look on with too much disdain Not sons of thunder but of squibs and fume Such as will stinkingly themselves consume And you fair daughters of Mnemosyne You sacred Muses that have smooth'd the way To Sciences that by your powerful songs Disarm the Fates and disappoint their wrongs And by the sweet enticements of delight To civil manners savage minds invite How have your famous Mountains sunk so low Int' disrespect your Springs that erst did flow Almost like Seas how almost are they dry With weeping for the worlds impiety And your brave Bayes that lightning durst not blast How are they scorcht and wither'd now at last By the contemptuous and contentious breath Of Schismaticks Factors for Hell and death Base Miscreants that brutishness affect As if they would if well they could reject Their inward forms and were they once estrang'd So from themselves as Circe sometimes chang'd The wandring Greeks would scarce endure to be Restor'd to th' state of fair humanity Mean while they would like Gnosticks seem to know All things yet cross to th' wayes of knowledge go And laugh down learned works as gamesome boyes Puffe out their shining bubbles airy toyes The liberal Arts serve nowadayes to be Matter of rude mirth to their clownery Who neither by safe rules their actions square ' Nor others rectifie but simply are Like quacking Emp'ricks that profess much skill Yet when they should work cures do idly kill Now Atlas thou that dost vast Heaven support Dost thou not shake 't with laughter nor transport Thy self with anger threatning to throw down Thy starry load when thou behold'st that Clown Swinkard who lately wicker Chairs did sell Bestriding many a stile with bonny Nâ—ll Now to usurp a Doctors Chair and prate I 'le nere say preach against the settled State Of our Church-Government his desk to box More fiercely then ere Cartwright did or Knox And with hackt sword charg'd pistoll wicked smell Of Powder and Tobacco stuffe for Hell Lift towards Heaven his hands besprent with gore And scratcht with rapine its great aid t' implore The precious treasure of sweet peace to send And t' our contentions put a blessed end When 't is well known that none but such as he Accurst ere born brought on our misery Yet stand his hearers like the Mares in Spain That Zephâ—res genial blasts would entertain Ready to suck in all the wind he breaks And yield themselves his Captives whilst he speaks Especially when in the face he flies Of noble Arts and rudely vilifies Fair Learning teaâ—ming it in drunken zeal The noisome Canker of the Common-weal And th' poison of good minds which if it were Such no infection need such Sâ—eâ—â—ors feare Thus that which hath made Naâ—â—ons eminent Hath modell'd out best forms of Government Crown'd men with Lawrel in the stormy daies Of War in calm peace won an higher praise And through the world Religions light dispred Is threatned to be dampt and banished Into sad darkness by vain vulgar pride Is like a worn-out garment cast aside Thrust as a weakling rudely to the wall Daily expecting a black Funerall If true it were which th' Ancients have approv'd That by the Muses as by souls are mov'd The shining Spheres and Musick by them made The motion of the Heavens would not be staid And those great Organs of the world
blind events and busily devise A chain of things like that of destinies Linking together causes and effects As their sore-casting faculty projects Great Demogorgon that art said to be The Ruler of close-working destiny Thou mayst give up thy government if so Mortals themselves can order things below Beyond the limits of their lives they send Their vast desires to fickle Fame commend Their future states and vainly promise thence Some comfort to themselves when void of sense To hazard lives or fortunes for a blast Or set as 't were all welfare at a cast Is 't not a folly which enough deplore We never can nor cure with Hellebore When vital light is quenchâ— could busie Fame With all her blowing make our ashes flame And fetch our banisht vanisht lives again There were some reason we should take some pain To purchase Fame but sith we all must lye Urg'd by an Adamantine destiny As heaps of ruines in our beds of clay To vex our selves or trouble Land or Sea That our self-pleasing actions may be tost In vulgar mouths when all our sense is lost In fatal darkness can at best but be Brave-minded folly splendid vanity 'T is as a wretch that 's doom'd to lose his eyes For some black mischief should be so unwise As to provide gay pictures for delight Against such time as he should lose his sight Old Lumbrick th' Usurer whose fair and young Wife to the chinking of his treasures sung When Coin came in and multiply'd apace Of late so courteous was as to give place To Natures course and in good earnest dy'd Binding by Testament his lovely Bride That she should never warm a genial bed With other person never more should wed And though he childless was as never he In ought was fruitful save in Usury Yet if his harsh desire she disobey'd Straight must she of her wealth be dis-arraid And left as naked as our Adamites When poorly they perform Religious Rites Was not this Mammonist absurdly vain Aswell as cruel that would thus restrain His wife from comforts and for such restraint Flatter himself with hopes of sweet content When rotting in the grave the deadly hate Of hundreds whom his rise did ruinate Who belching out black storms of curses meant To shipwrack his pale ghost when hence it went Vertue that ever keeps the Conscience clear And the heart light doth in her bosome bear A sweet compensative for all the pain Which for her sake her lovers do sustain Yet all the courtship which to her we make Is rather fram'd for some Spectatours sake Then for her own desert thus vertous we Are in relation not reality So in our learning triflingly we go To work and of much knowledg make a show As we had sounded all the Sciences When to sharp eyes our frothy shallowness Plainly appears who till our eyes be hoar'd Smatter in Languages that scarce afford A solid notion childishly with shells Of things do play and look for little else Goddess of Arts and Arms canst thou endure That sordid Clowns should laugh at Literature For some mens faults that pester it with wrongs And crop the Lawrel that to it belongs Pallas advance and with the Gorgons head Convert such blocks to stones or strike them dead With thy keen sauchion that the Arts thereby May rise and shine with wonted splendency O how do airy phansies crush and shake Our mental pow'rs how deeply do we take Light shadowy things to heart as if no store Of real grieavances we had before Poor mortals need no troubles to create Nor with self-caused earth-quakes shake the state Of life too fruitful Nature is in woe Out of our essences do sorrows grow The very earth we bear about doth yield Such fruits and is a never-failing field Yet when Lavisca in a tragique Scene Beheld the beautiful Adonis slain Whose blouds fresh drops on his unblemisht skin Lookt as a Roses blushing leaves had bin Strew'd on a silver statue with a stoud Of tears she matcht the current of his bloud Pour'd out her brackish humours as if she Had been a Nymph of Tethis family Yet that she might be happier then the fair Venus whose Courtship vanisht into air The next day after though anothers wife She plaid with him that acted death to life The Hunter she enjoy'd and what he bare To chear his hounds with was her husbands share Moreover sith our threds are quickly spun By the great wheel of Heaven our sands soon run So that before we well know why we came Into that Coasts of light we quit the same All our endeavours to this point should tend That our short time we fruitfully might spend Yet are we prodigal in its expence Whilest in the winding ways of complements We visit we salute we entertain As our lives business did consist in vain Addresses or as time with age were grown Slow and requir'd more wastage then his own Just Saturn thou that for our lives offence Threatnest our Land with vengeful influence When hast thou since thou didst a sickle bear Seen falshood so in fashion as 't is here 'Mongst Gallants who nere meet but they profess More loves then Cupid and more services Then slaves in Turky when yet in their mind There 's nothing of reality design'd But from their hearts true friendship is as far As low-faln Vulcan from 2 fixed star What pains they take to serve the vanities Of pride how do they counterfeit disguise Endure stiff cold and melting heat that they May out-go others in the rising way Of high esteem and with some Potentate Whom they admire themselves ingratiate Thus as we see a light quick-moving flame On weighty bodies seise and work the same To dissolution so does vanity Lay hold on mans most solid faculty Distracts his intellectuals makes him start From wisdomes bent from vertue steals his heart Shew me the man that in the puzling throng Of businesses will not engage among Some obvious vanities and neither play The Ape nor child with fondlings in his way And Fame shall crown his merits that he shall Live to behold the worlds great Funeral SATYRE VIII Against Discord SUrely wild Discord which long since was found In lightless Hell where bloudy fillets bound Her snaky tresses up did burst of late Her chains and threats our Realm to ruinate And make our sometime happy Isle to be Like her Low-Country in some near degree Will drowsie Chaos startled with th' affright Of clamorous broils lift from the deeps of night His vap'tons head and from his shaken tress Fling through the world confusive darknesses That we shall nere know vertue more nor see The friendly smiles of calm tranquillity It cannot be conceiv'd but that the state O' th' Universe ere long will terminate So many parts thereof are wrencht and torn By furious strife or by confusion born On heaps so that small hopes we have to see Things in right form and found integrity Much woe distracts us yet the dismal stage Of
Heaven doth more calamities presage The dire aspects of Planets seem to twit Our lews sedition sharply point at it And as our manners are enormous threat To make our plagues prodigiously great Saturn and Mars malignly posited In wrathful Leo give us cause to dread That for our canker'd spight and cruel rage Whereby we have been hurry'd on t' engage Our selves in mischiefs this weak Realm of ours That erst too highly vaunted of its pow'rs And fortunes will ere long be brought more low And mourn i' th' ashes of an overthrow So great that Poets will be taxt with lyes That shall compile this Ages Tragedies The Moon too owing a disastrous spight To mortals clips her brothers golden light Flings rust upon his beauties and from all Our Coasts averts his force vivifical Whilest night incroches on the day and peeps To see what order troubled Nature keeps Great Gallant of the sky rich-metall'd Sun Brave issue of sublime Hyperion Well mayst thou that art regular and bright At mortals frown that are disorder'd quite In all their motions and do onely ply The works of darkness and impurity Our faults O Phoebus are not small though thou Didst lately wink thereat yet not t' allow Their perpetration no thou didst but so A great abhorrence no connivence show And wert abasht to see these wretched times Ore-flow with foul and execrable crimes That seem a bloudy tincture to reflect Upon thy beams as they would Heaven infect You proud earth-awing Potentates that from Indignant eyes dart lightning where you come And when your browes are once beclouded make Whole Kingdomes at your voices thunder quake Look to your envyed altitudes ere long Some fury-winged storms will try how strong Your forces are and cause you have to doubt That some tempestuous terrours are about To shake your strengths when at your height the stars Thus point and threaten to turn Levellers Sweet concord that as firmest ligament Of all societies in joint consent Did sometimes knit our hearts is banisht far And onely now the bloudy track of war Do thousands follow and in acts of spight And spoilful violence so much delight That neither mountains bogs nor seas can bar Them from pursuance of the deadliest war Though never so unjust but on they will As if they never bloud enough could spill Or as their spirits were with others breath Refresht that issued from the gates of death Mischiefs like Mathematique bodies rise Sometimes from meer points to a mighty size Taking increase of magnitude from all Occurrences that in their way befal Fair speeches for meer mockeries are took And for a bold affront a manly look Whispers for plots thus apt to draw offence From every object is malevolence A spark of discord when inflam'd among Seditious heads doth seem to run along The ground and quickly doth it self dilate Ore a large Region all to ruinate Wicked contention that did once enrage All Greece and Asia moving them t' engage In fight about one apple that among Three Goddesses was on Mount Ida flung Has not forgot her old invenom'd spight But to embroil whole Kingdomes doth delight And never was more apt then now adayes Great mischiefs from small principles to raise That which should as a sober curb restrain Impetuous motions serves now as a main Incentive to our quarrellings who fly At one anothers throats religiously Turpine that had long since on wine and whores Spent all and in good earnest out of doors Had fool'd himself but afterwards did go To wars and patcht up his torn fortunes so Meeting with Crash who likewise had a mass Of wealth consum'd and discontented was Did thus bespeak him ' Friend why walk you so ' With arms across as if you meant to show ' The world your sorrows that too little cares ' How ill a man of worth and merit fares ' When last I saw you you were fresh as May ' Acquainted with no symptome of decay ' Though now you seem like a deflourisht tree ' That wants the airs or earths benignity ' But I le transplant you bravely if you 'l come ' Along and follow our auspicious Drum ' Bear warlike arms and try the dusty field ' Of Mars to see what Harvest it will yield ' He works so on you as Medea's Art ' On Aeson did refresh your wither'd heart ' And by infusions vigorous and strong ' Recall your flourish make you seem more young Crash smil'd hereat and was so mannerly As to return him thanks but yet said he ' I never could affect your â—lashing trade 'To stand at th' mercy of anothers blade ' Or make my self a mark for every shot ' The desp'rate look of danger like I not ' Nay said the other you shall those command ' That will in roughest wayes of danger stand ' And shelter you who shall be still secure ' Whilest they the shocks of bloudy broils endure ' Thâ—iâ— dangerous exploits shall win you praise ' They still shall bear the brunt but you the Bayes ' Since first warlike weapons took in hand ' And was thought worthy others to command ' Ever when any hazardous attempt ' Was urg'd my wisdome did my self exempt ' From danger but thrust others on apace ' Whose lives compar'd with mine were cheap base ' He that rules others and neglects to save ' Himself may quickly send a fool to grave Like to a boy that fain would break into An Orchard where eye-pleasing apples grow But fears a mastiff or some other bug Did Crash now stand began to smack and shrug And fram'd this answer ' I should promptly go 'To stop the torrent of a â—orrain foe ' That came with dire destructive purposes ' As did the Danes most high in outrages ' But somewhat in my soul perhaps they call ' It conscience would not suffer me at all ' Those to offend whom I am bound to love ' Or once an hand against their safety move ' Justice and Charity are frighted far ' Or deadly wounded in a wrongful war ' Nay if you 'l preach said Turpine you shall have 'A Tub to talk in but you rather rave ' Then speak what doth a man of worth befit ' That knows the sharper points of war and wit ' What though we fight not against Forrainers ' We fight 'gainst those that with tempestuous wars ' Would wrack our State we come within the Lists ' 'Gainst those that are profest Antagonists 'To our designs 'gainst those that do deny 'Our rules nor with our courses will comply ' Those that old fottish fashions will retain ' And scorn all new productions of the brain ' Though nere so happy and though nere so well ' Approv'd by those in judgment that excel ' What if the conscience be a little strain'd ' When some great benefit may thence be gain'd ' The fault is venial Seldome do we see ' More folly then in scrup'lous nicety ' Nor of sound
sordid and sinister ends Whilst we turmoil our spirits to acquire Base gains to fewel an inflam'd desire Herquin did otherwise as fools will run Int' one extreme whilst they another shun He languisht for the love of such a Lass As nor well-monyed nor well-manner'd was Nor yet of good extraction though that she Drew gold out of his pockets dext'rously But being fair and full of pleasant chat And free in the delights of you know what She his affections strangely did enchain And a close amity they did maintain Till age into their veins a chilling dart Had shot but then asunder soon did start Their pleasure-fastned friendship like a Snake Sever'd in twain when either part doth take A several way when once the slippery ends Of lust did fail they were no longer friends Friendships that are like Sampsons Foxes ty'd Together as they basely are apply'd So when the smoky brand of lust is spent They forthwith fail with like extinguishment Gross sensual pleasure's like a sudden flow Of muddy water that doth soon forgo The chanel 't is a trust-betraying thing That ever mocks our hopes in promising More then it gives and ere we well enjoy Our poor acquists begets satiety Needs must that love then play at fast and loose That is contracted by so slack a noose As pleasure draws nor will it ever be Grac'd with the crown of friendship constancy Yet those that entertain mens phantasies With rude insipid jests and flatteries Buffons and Parasites are in request Far more then faithful hearts that do their best By the sweet force of good advice to draw Others from vices lure to vertues law Licentious out-laws are as Sylvane Bears Savage intractable obstruct their ears 'Gainst sober counsels kick with much disdain At those that would their wickedness restrain And like the Gad'rens Swine with Hellish hast Themselves down-right to deep destruction cast If they will needs be ruin'd let them run On swallowing quick-sands which they well might shun At least upon bare rocks of penury Their fortunes split and dye contemptibly Nor bloud nor sworn allegiance serve for bands Of force to knit mens hearts or hold their hands From wrongs and mischiefs 'T will not be forgot While there 's an English Islander or Scot How in our late broils most unnatural Brother on brother furiously did fall And Sire and Son ingloriously oppose Each other dealing ill-directed blowes Friends were no longer friends then hous'd they were When once in field did angry foes appear As arms went on was amity thrown off At terms of peace did the lewd Rabbie scoff Broke off all social leagues each ligament Of love with bloudy hands asunder rent Whilst angry blowes and terms of insolence For thefts and rapes were all their recompence Nature astonisht might have said ' O God ' That sometimes shak'st a sharp revengeful rod ' How hold'st thou now thy high inflamed hand ' And with dire Engine shiver'st not a land 'T' insulphured dust that seemeth to defie ' The terrours of thy great Artillery ' Slights equally thy judgments and commands ' Ready 'gainst Heaven to lift Gigantick hands ' And scale th' Olympian towers O thou that hast ' Set bounds to all things not to be displac'd ' And harmoniz'd by Laws this Mundane State ' Why suffer'st thou vile worms to violate ' Thy sanctions and disperse more poisons than ' An hundred Hydra's or swoln Pythons can ' Causing fair vertue t' hide her head like Nile ' Left Hellish steams her beauties should defile Of such a feign'd complaints as this the cause Is yet too real when the sacred Lawes Of God and Nature broken as they were Are cast aside neglected every where Whilst wretched Male contents with angry jars Dis-tune their lives and blow the coles of wars Cease Moralists of perfect amity To treat whereby two souls confusedly United are like flowing waters met The vulgar friendship scarce the counterfeit Of such communion never was more rare At such strange distance mens affections are The' Incheumon and the Asp from angry eyes Dart not more death nor are worse enemies Then brother's are to brothers now and then Most deadly-hating mischief-acting men Nor will the world be ere at better pass When Princes on whose lives as in a glass Inferiours look and steer their course thereby Though in degree of kindred nere so nigh For trifles yet do Kingdomes oft engaged And sacrifice whole Nations to their rage Thus do poor subjects fall by heaps because Ambitious Soveraigns climb above the Lawes Of Government thus upon those that be Of lowest state lights mischief heavily Great persons having raised storms make sure Of shelter but the poor all blasts endure SATYRE XI Against Gluttony WHo 's this that like a walking Tun appears That such a mass of flesh about him bears And puffs as if the air would scarce suffice To cool him O! I know him by his size 'T is Olbiogator that stour Trencher-Knight Who by full meals doth measure all delight And spends almost as much in sacrifice To his vast belly as did Bell suffice That hungry Idol This is he whose great Stomach though not to fight maintains an heat Like that of Vulcans forge and if that men Be Microcosomes this Gluttons maw is then His torrid Zone It is a Scene of Sport To see how he preludes in eager sport To every meal how he his eyes doth fix Upon each dish and how his lips he licks And smacks and shrugs but when he once doth fall Aboard then laugh and look about you all My friends then Pork and powder'd Beef beware Mutton Veal Capon and all daintier fare Weep your own fawces sith much woe doth wait Upon you and your punishment is great To be thrown down not into Tiber but A gulf as deep and in dark prison shut This Sensualist as Gluttony though dull For the most part is of inventions full Would not accept things in their Primitive Condition as free Nature did them give But quaintly did compound them that they m'ght Into the Gullet melt with more delight His liquorish humour prompted him t' invent So much did cost his palates blandishment Quaint candyings and preservings to devise T' make Suckets Marmalets and Quidinies Gellyes Conserves Leach Marchpans Coolisses Syrups and many such Compounds as these Nor staid he here but by God Vulcans aid Of spices wines and flowers distilled made Incentive liquors by whose help he might Sooner concoct the baits o' th' appetite Liquors that like falle Cupids shafts inspire The veins with pleasing but pernicious fire For to their charge do men their stomachs cheat By such confections whose excessive heat Preys on the oily aliment of life And lets their principles at eager strife It is a mild benigner temperature Of heat that to the body doth procure Health and longevity As near to air As fire our spirits of alliance are Those subtile instruments of life I mean Which Nature doth with purest bloud maintain To
turn these therefore meerly to a flame Is so dis-tune the most harmonious frame And to betray a life to the surprize Of the severe dead-handed destinies But what cares Gultch the Alderman for this Will he for future life lose present bliss Abridg his meals abate his costly chear Or draughts of Wine or Usquebath forbear No for meer empty words he matters not A short life and a merry is his Mot He 's wedded unto pleasure so as nere To be divorc'd but hold it ever dear Yet his delight deludes him still who stuffs His gorge all day and swels and sweats and puffs But then at night doth belch spew snott and toss His limbs as if his life were at a loss Or lothsome fumes were ready forth to drive His soul as Bees are banisht from their Hive Look how his teeth are blackned how his eyes Blear'd and suffus'd in quest of novelties How both his feet and hands to th' peace are bound With knotty Gouts How with the Dropsie drown'd Some other parts are and all ill at ease Untowardly perform their offices Like a great Globe of earth and water plac'd Upon a frame fits he in 's chair to taste The choicest liquors and the cud to chew But nothing fair of laudable to do As for his brain an Anvile that is hit And hammer'd still is not more dull then it His apprehensive faculties as flow As a tir'd beast and so to work doth go His memory is ever wont to play At fast and loose and dearest trusts betray Then such a judgment does he pass on things As sometime was that foolish Phrygian Kings Who â—ans rude Pipe preferred to the Lyre Of Phoebus Master of the Mules quire These are thy fatal fruits damn'd Gluttony Foul lothsome fly of all impurity Deep gulf of greatest fortunes that dost draw Whole Kingdomes into thy distended jaw Black mud of Hell that art so apt to boil Up to the stomach and all parts defile What thundering force of eloquence can throw Three down so deep as thou deserv'st to go That eat'st into this age as rust doth waste Iron and wilt consume it sure at last That Northern beast the Gulon said to be A creature of a wild rapacity And so insatiate that when he hath once Devour'd and gnawn a carcass to the bones And swells with his surcharge betwixt two trees His loads of crudities he forth doth squeeze Then seeks new preys whereon to gluttonize The Gormonds of this age doth emblemize That daily raven after dainty cheer As if they deem'd that onely born they were To fill and to evacuate and so To make their bellies like to bellowes go And to take care such Ballast to provide As weightyer is then all the Ship beside Such greedy Gulls are bold to deifie Their bellies with a gross idolarry Their Kitchins are their onely Temples where The sacrifices offer'd all the year Are sundry sorts of fatted fowls and beasts Their Cooks while sober may well stand for Priests Tables for Altars and the steams that rise From meats for incense fuming to the skies Then in the stead of Hymns about do go Their Catches heightned as their cups do flow ' O said Gorgony that gross Parasite ' I was at th' house of bounty yesternight ' My Lord 's a royal-minded man we were ' Almost three hours at Supper I dare swear ' Where both the Shambles and the Poultry too ' You might at once upon the Table view ' Besides Italian and French dishes such ' As you would think it almost sin to touch ' They were so pleasing both to sight and sent ' And to the palate gave so rich content ' So farsed larded seasoned with the meat ' That the most qual mish could not chuse but eat ' And fill their bellies though their eyes they nere ' Could fill with those delightful objects there ' When now with grinding-work our chaps were tir'd ' Of all the dainties that could be desir'd 'A banquet came such junkets were brought in ' As more then goodliest apples might to sin ' Another Eve entice and straight excite ' The drowziest sense and deadest appetite ' I' th' close of all the Master of the Feast ' Began a health in Sack a quart at least ' And round it 'mongst us went who certainly ' Nere dream'd this last night of sobreity ' For my part I who have spun a fair thred ' Went reeling home and slipt so into bed ' As a blind man into a ditch should fall ' Wallow'd in sleep but when I wakened all ' My bowels seem'd on fire my throat was dry ' And still the head-ach pains me wickedly Base fawnings Smell-feast I beleeve thou art Shrewdly distemper'd both in head and heart Thy wits are dreggish and thy spirits dull And restive c'ause thy belly 's always full While such diseases as ere long to feed The worms will send thee in thy bowels breed 'T is not great wonder that so little cause We have to boast of policies or lawes Manners or Sciences sith oft we be So full-fed so engulft in Gluttony That with its muddy fumes our brains are quite Ore clouded and afford us little light Yet may we see how much the English man Is still out-witted by th' Italian The Spaniard and the French who as they say Do feed like Simulus and Cybale For the most part chiefly beholden are To Orchards and to Gardens for their fare But if sometimes on costlyer meats they feed They seldome pass the bound of Natures need But take delight sweet temperance to show As we in fulsome gluttony to flow As men at first in skins of beasts attir'd Themselves but afterwards more proud desir'd Quaint costly ornaments and so in gay Purple and Scarlet did themselves away Wrought up the Webs of Silk-worms and made bold To rob the Elements for Pearls and Gold So the first mortals did their hunger stake With bread and water and of fruits did make Some frugal use but th' ill-rul'd appetite Would taste some delicates that might delight As well as nourish so both Land and Sea Ere long were searcht their longings to allay By th' deaths of other creatures did they live And the full reins to ranging humors give Whence the just Fates have made our threds of life More short and fretted them with care and strife Our dreadful wars that set a bloudy stain Upon this Land as in prodigious rain The Heavens had wept the direful pestilence That with lean bloudless hand pluckt thousands hence Nay the distempers and diseases all For which Physicians shake the Urinal Emp'ricks and Mountebanks do boldly quack And which old mumbling Beldames undertake To cure have not such numbers infinite Sent to the solitary Coasts of night As gluttony from time to time hath done That cramming Nurse of inconcotion That quels the force of Nature dampeth quite As with a Stygian mist the vital light Or in the bowels leaves the feeds of death