Goddesse Fornax came to whom the Boore Doth gladly pray his corn to dresse and cure Th' Archcurate then bids Fornacalia In form of words but makes no Holy-day And in the courts with marks for all mens view The pendent tables severall wards do shew But simpler folk who their own wards know not The day's last part devote the first forgot To Parents tombs now orisons they pay And on friends urns some little offrings lay Small things please Ghosts in Styx none greedy be Gods for great gifts accept true piety A tilesherd cover'd with a flowry crown Sufficeth with some salt and meal thrown down Loose violets corn steep'd in wine a while Leave these i' th' mid-way heap'd upon a tile More I forbid not yet thus pleas'd are they And on built piles pray'rs and words suited say These rites Aeneas piety's true mold Brought into just King Latine's land of old To fathers ghost he paid solemnities Of whom our Countrey learn'd this pious guise But while successours in long warres did blaze They quite neglected these Parentall dayes It cost them deare For that offense some tell Rome all on fire from piles of dead men fell Old fables bruit but I can scarce believe it At this did dead mens shapelesse ghosts much grieved Creep from their tombs and monefull howlings made About the streets and groves in nights dull shade Thenceforth to tombs were due solemnities Restor'd which ceas'd those ghostly prodigies These dayes young wives keep from your bed-desires The marriage-lamp a purer time requires And maids in your fond mothers eyes so fair And wedlock-ripe now lay you out no hair Hymen put out thy lamps in these black dayes The mournfull tombs have other lights to blaze Let all the temples of the Gods be shut Nor fire nor incense on their altars put For now the flitting souls of ancients dead Walk all about and feed on victuals spread But these sad rites no further may extend Then till this month eleven dayes hath to end The latter day which to the Ghosts they pay From bringing gifts is call'd Feralia Lo now a grandame sits with maidens young And worships Silence with no silent tongue First in a mousehole on the groundsil she Three spice-grains layes tane up with fingers three Then strings inchanted ty'd to lead doth hold While seven blew beans about her mouth are roll'd The head compact of mint and well bepitch'd She heats by th' fire with brazen needle stitch'd Then drops on wine the remnant in the cup She and her mates yet she the most drink up Departing then W' have ty'd the tongues of foes She cries then out in drunken garb she goes You ask it may be what this Muta is List what I tell an old mans tale I wis Jove deeply wounded in Juturna's love Endur'd much care not fit for mighty Jove She in the woods among the hasils lay And sometimes in her kindred-springs would play The Nymphs he summons that in Latium dwell And to the quire his counsel thus doth tell Your sister-Nymph refuses her own foe Her greatest good the greatest God to know Befriend us both for that which my great pleasure Will be shall prove your sister's peerlesse treasure When me she flies then stop her in a ring Upon the bank from leaping into spring To him the Nymphs of Ilia divine Agreed with all the quire of Tyberine One maid there was call'd Lara but of yore The former syllable was doubled o're A vice her nam'd Ofttimes cry'd Almon old Wench hold thy tongue but yet she could not hold To mate Juturna's spring she goes Avoid The banks sayes she and then Joves mind bewray'd Then goes to Juno pitying wives hard case Your Jove quoth she Juturna would embrace Jove much inrag'd the tongue she did imploy So ill takes from her then calls Mercury Convey that wench to hell hell fits the dumb Let her if Nymph a Nymph of Styx become His will 's fulfill'd they come into a grove Her keeper now with her doth fall in love Who forces her For words with looks she prayes And with dumb tongue to plead in vain assayes Conceiv'd she brings two Lares forth who guard Our streets and houses ever watch and ward Next day deare kinsmen do Charistia call Now have we meetings in our houses all For 't is meet time from friends laid in their urn On living kin our eye forthwith to turn And next those many whom black death hath slain To count all ranks that of our bloud remain Come loving kinsmen all but spitefull brothers Keep off from hence with all inhumane mothers Who grieve at fathers or at mothers lives The step-mother that with her step-step-child strives Tantalian brothers and Medea vile And she that scorch'd the farmers seed i' th' soil Tereus and Progne and mute Philomel And all that friends for gain do basely sell Kind kindred spice to Gods ally'd now give This day meek Concord most of all doth thrive As symptomes of your love together feast And range your dishes neatly sawc'd and drest And when at night you go to sleep all stand To make a vow with lustier bowls in hand And mount this prayer all drinking off the Health Heavens prosper us and Cesar Romes chief wealth That night now past the God that doth divide Mens land possessions is solemnifi'd God Terminus whether a Stone or Block Thou wert a God too with the ancient stock Two severall lords on severall parts thee crown And lay two garlands with two off'rings down An altar's rais'd the Countrey-wife doth come With fire brought in some broken pan from home Th' old man cuts wood and piles it up on high And sticks in boughs about the ground thereby Then kindles up the fire with tinder sear His young sonne stands and holds the basket there Then when three grains he into fire doth fling His little daughter honycombs doth bring The rest hold wine Each on the fire is laid The white-clad croud with joyfull voice applaud This God is sprinkled with a young lamb slain A sow-pig offer'd he will not complain The homely neighbours feast with chear they bring And Terminus thy sacred praises sing Thou lands and cities and large realms dost bound Without thee suitfull would be every ground From avarice and all ambition free Each tenement thou keepest faithfully Hadst thou assign'd but that Thyrean plain Three hundred men had not yerwhile bin slain Nor heaps of arms had crush'd O tryad brave Oh what a floud of bloud his land he gave And when the royall Capitol was rais'd All Gods to Jove gave way and were displac'd But Terminus sayes fame being seated there Would not remove but in Joves house hath share And now lest ought but heaven he view right over His head the roof is fram'd without a cover Since Terminus be thou by no means light But keep the station where thou once art pight And let no landlords tricks nor suits thee move Lest thou preferre a man before great Jove And
soon be eas'd 11. Thus did I crave My Wife more largely pray'd Each accent broke with sighs most deep Then falling prostrate with her hairs displaid Before the Houshold-Gods doth creep To kisse the hearth with quaking lip 12. There poures she forth before the sullen Powers A many pray'rs not prevalent For dolefull Husband But the hasty Howers Deny'd delay the night was spent And Arotos down the West was bent 13. What should I do The love of Countrey ty'd me But ah that night was set to be My utmost bound How oft when any ply'd me Cry'd I Alas why hast you see But whence or whither post you me 14. How oft did I a certain hower feigne Convenient for my way assign'd Thrice stept I o're the threshold thrice again Went back my very foot inclin'd To sloth in flattery of my mind 15. Oft Farewell given I fell to talk agen And oft I kiss'd as if just there I would depart my will repeat I then In self-mistakes my eyes each-where Fix'd on my souls engagements dear 16. Why should I hasten Scythia is said I The Countrey whither I am sent Rome must I leave and leave perpetually In both respects just argument Of our delayes though time be spent 17. My wife and I are both for ever parted Yet both alive my familie With each sweet part and all my friends true-hearted O dear-beloved Souls to me Knit in Thesean amitie 18. Let 's change embraces while we may and make The best advantage of the hower Perhaps it is for ever Thus I spake In halved words and in the power Of soul we clasp'd each friend of our 19. Thus while I talk and we lament lo now Bright Lucifer in th' East appear Sad starre to us Oh! I am rent as though My joynts all wrung in sunder were Torn part from part by rack severe 20. Such wo was Priam's when that treachery That fatall Horse did now confesse But then arose a lamentable cry And sobbing grones did souls oppresse And heavy hands smote heavier brests 21. Then my poore wife embracing me close to Pour'd forth these tear-mix'd words to me Oh! I cannot part from thee I will go I 'll go I say I 'll go with thee An exuls exil'd wife I 'll be 22. The way 's as free for me so is the land Small burden to the ship are we Thee Caesars anger doth O grief command To banishment affection me Affection shall my Caesar be 23. Thus did she strive as she had done before And scarce her hold of me forbears By best perswasions Forth I go adoore A walking herse with my soil'd hairs Confus'd and torn about my ears 24. O'rewhelm'd in grief she fell into a swound And head against the hard floore knocks Come to her self at length and from the ground Rais'd up with much ado her locks With dust bemoiled off she plucks 25. Now wails her case then blames with many mones The vexing Gods and oft doth cry My Husband Oh my Husband with such grones And sobs as if her child or I Had been just now in pile to frie. 26. Death she desir'd by death her soul to ease Yet for my sake she life did will O mayst thou live and since the Fates so please Still live sweet wife my ease and still My absent soul with comfort fill 27. The Boreal Bear-man into sea doth steep His joul and moils the waters there Yet doth our keel plow up th' Ionian Deep Not of our own minds but we are Compell'd to boldnesse out of fear 28. Oh me what winds arise how Sea and Heaven Both scoul the bottom-sands do boil Upon the top huge mountain billows driven Against both sides our vessel toil Our Gods continuall dashes soil 29. The hatches moil the beaten sail-ropes rore The very ship doth seem to grone At our harsh fate The doubtfull Mariner With terrour in his visage shown Gives up and lets his art alone 30. And as some weak-arm'd groom the conquer'd rain Resignes unto his stiff-neck'd horse Even so the Pilote through the toilsome main Works on his ship not his own course But every way the surges force 31. And had not Aeolus chang'd his blustring wind Upon the interdicted Land I had been forc'd for leaving farre behind Th' Illyrian coast on our left hand We saw close by th' Italian strand 32. O do not strive to pitch our vessel there Do ye obey that God with me While thus I cry'd betwixt desire and fear Of being driv'n back O what a Sea Doth smite the sides most furiously 33. Gods of the Sea spare ye this life of ours O do not ye him further grieve Whom Jove doth scourge nor to the Stygian Powers This weary soul of mine yet give If one already dead may live For his respect and honour he held all his life-time with those that were his coetaneans his own works well shew And for the fame and estimation he hath mainteined by his Poemes through all ages in many parts of the world let the reader but turn to M r Sandys his Collection of the Testimonies of divers learned and judicious Authours in the frontispice of his exquisite Translation of our Poets Metamorph. I will content my self with one onely added to his which is Angelus Politianus his Elegie upon his death wherein he manifesteth not onely his own honour and estimation of him but also the love respect and favour he wonne among the Barbarians with whom he lived as you may reade AH weladay Doth Naso lye in Getick ground Our Romane Muses Joy Entomb'd in barbarous bound That barbarous land That lyes by Isters frozen spring Presse that sweet Poets hand Whose pen soft Love did sing Art not asham'd O Rome to be farre more severe Then Barbarisme untam'd To thy own Sonne so dear Ho Muses say Was any friend in Scythian shore His sorrows to allay Or ease his pains so sore Was any nigh His languish'd joynts on bed to lay Or with some melody To passe the painfull day Was any there To feel his fainting pulses beat Or to administer Some wholesome drams or meat Or at his death What friend did close his dying eye Or suck up his last breath A work of piety None none there was Thou thou remorselesse cruel Rome Kept'st all his friends alas That none at him could come None none I say His Wife his little Sonnes and Daughter Were parted farre away And could not follow after No friends he had But Bessi and Coralli tawny And Gets in wild-skins clad With arms and shoulders brawny The Sarmats brow'd With horrour and with looks austere That drink their horses bloud His onely comfort were The Sarmats grim Whose wiry-harsh and dangling hairs Congeal'd with cold extreme Do crash about their ears And yet his fate The stern Coralli did deplore The Gets and Sarmats sate And beat their bosomes sore Wood-Nymphs and woods And mountains did bewail his fall And Isters swelling flouds Did bear a part withall Fame doth reherse That
vaunt thy love unto our Art And didst reward our Priests with wealth and fame Oft didst thou take thy pen to play thy part Among our Quire and with our sacred flame Inspir'd didst triumph in a Poets name 24. How then came all that heat and love so quail'd O'rewhelm'd and quench'd by one dire blast of ire Our Pow'r contemn'd which ever yet prevail'd With stoutest spirits O why did we inspire Thee with one spark that thus dost slight our Quire 25. Our force and virtue that have rais'd the dead Drawn down the Moon erected brazen Towers Tam'd Bears and Tigers mov'd the Rocks and staid The running Streams and charm'd the greatest Powers In Pluto 's cell mov'd not that heart of yours 26. Jove Juno Venus Janus Mars and all Ye Powers of heaven his pen your praises spake Why did ye let so true a servant fall Why did ye not for your own honours sake With draughts of Nectar him immortall make 27. And thou great Father of our sacred Quire Let me in Griefs prerogative be bold To plead with thee Thou didst at full inspire Thy darling Naso and hast him enroll'd Among thy most renowned Priests of old 28. Oft hast thou crowned with immortall Bayes His sacred brows he was thy favourite Nor that grand Chanter of Achilles praise Nor that high pen which sung Aeneas flight Nor that sweet Lyrick thee did more delight 29. Why didst not then with thine Ambrosia feed him Food which thou giv'st to thine unwearied steeds To large eternity why didst not breed him Then his pure fansie sown with heavenly seeds Had chanted more divine and humane deeds 30. Thou might'st at least have done the world that favour As to have begg'd a longer lease of life From Joves own hand O thou hadst been a saver Of thine own honour hadst thou stay'd the knife That bloudie weapon of the Sisters rise 31. Behold that halved orphane work a piece Almost the last that by his hand was penn'd That work alone deserv'd a longer lease Of life from thee See how he did intend Thy same and honour through the year to send 32. Had he accomplish'd that divine designe And reach'd to his Years end without that wrong From Fate and Caesar that had all been thine Then in thy chariot thou hadst danc'd along Thy Years twelve labours in a constant song 33. Now is thy race uneven One half the yeare Thou passest blank Methinks thy wheels are numb Those silenc'd Months No song doth calendar Thy Signes and dayes One side of heaven is dumb Such wrongs to us from Fates thwart actions come 34. Apollo duly to her plaint gave eare Her grief mov'd pitie and her words mov'd grief Much it affects him Naso 's death to heare That envious Fate so short had cropp'd his life He shakes his fire-locks and replies not brief Apollo 35. Sweet Clio Thy complaint is just and true And in thy sorrow I consent with thee The thought of Phaethon's fall doth not renew My passion so nor more distemper me Then Ovid's death and sad calamitie 36. And had I thought his fatall twist had been So near the end and that the Three consented Amid his songs to cut his thread so green I would have tri'd my skill to have prevented That stroke and got a longer lease indented 37. But well thou know'st my mind about is hurl'd Each week each day each minute of an houre In generall affairs of all the world In meting out of Time and keeping our Heaven's Complices in their due course and power 38. That I nor space nor respit have alwayes On each particular in this vast All To set my thoughts though men of worth and praise Are cropp'd by Fates who threads of Virtue gall And oft my friends besides my knowledge fall 39. Thus Maro Lucane by their spitefull hand Aâ—nâ—â—ares were banish'd from my light And that arch-Poet of the Fairie lond With diverse more Thus many a Favourite Have lost their heads out of their Prince's sight 40. When I per chance foresee the fatall day Of any Worthie how it me doth pain To bring it onward gladly would I stay And were it not Necessitie constrain I should my chariot oftentimes refrain 41. But Clio stay thy tears 'T is follie never To cease a grief for unrevers'd decrees 'T is wisdome when Necessitie doth sever Her actions and our will when what we please We cannot do to do what most may ease 42. Though Death hath silenc'd his facetious quill And robb'd him of his life us of our praise Yet doth his fame his nobler portion still Survive and flourish like our lasting Bayes And through the world his works his worth shall raise 43. As for his Poeme's losse it proves his gain 'T is greater honour to be much desir'd Then much enjoy'd For that which doth remain To be made up some Fansie well attir'd May be e'r long for that supply inspir'd 44. Thus in despite of Fate will we extend Our Servants lives and raise their dying head As for Augustus who did cause his end The world concludes it Ovid banished Th' unworthi'st act that e'r Augustus did Sic questa est Clio moestae gemuere Sorores ConcussÃtque comam scitus Apollo Lyrae OVIDS FESTIVALLS OR ROMANE CALENDAR The first Book or JANUARIE The Argument TH' old Romane yeare The severall sorts of dayes Discourse with Janus Th' Astrosophi's praise The feast Agonia Whence the Altar's fill'd With bloud of birds and beasts Why th' Asse is kill'd To lustfull Priap Queen Carmentis rite With her predictions Great Tyrinthius fight With fire-mouth'd Cacus The Augustian name Assum'd by Cesar In Carmentis fame More sacreds pay'd White Concord in white fane Mild Peace her altar And a pray'r for grain TImes with their causes to the Romane yeare Dispos'd of old Star's courses sing we here Germanick Cesar O accept our charge With smooth aspect and guide my feeble barge Be Patrone to this piece devote to thee Let not this gift though small rejected be Here holy rites pickt out of annals old May'st thou read ore and why each day 's enroll'd Here may you your domestick feasts adjoynd And here your father and grandfather find And how throughout the Calendar renown'd Thy brother Drusus fame with thine shall sound Some Caesars arms we Caesars altars sing What dayes were hallow'd by that sacred king The whiles the glory of thy house I chaunt Do thou but smile no fear our Muse shall daunt Your grace gives vigour to my verses poore Our fansie at your eye doth flag or soat The censure of so learn'd a majesty Our Muse doth fear more then Apollo's eye For we did tast those sweets your lips let fall When you did plead in causes criminall But when Apollo thee inspir'd O then What streams of learning glided from thy pen O Poet deigne a Poets rain to guide That so our yeare a sweeter course may slide WHen Romulus the times did first dispose Ten months to number out his
prey recover'd wonne Return'd he draws from spits the hissing meat Quoth he Let none but those that conquer'd eat Thus did the Fabii too Quirinus there Came now devoyd and spies the boards all bare He laughs yet griev'd that Remus Fabii Should winne the game not his Quintilii The fame continues they all naked race And he that got the day hath got the grace But why and for what cause perhaps you 'l say Do we Lupercal call that place and day Nun Sylvia at one birth two God-got twinnes Brought forth her uncle then the Countrey 's Prince He charg'd his men i' th' river them to drown O spare what mean'st thou Romulus is one Th' unwilling men obey the tragick King And th' infants to the place they weeping bring Then Albula from Tyberine there drown'd Call'd Tyber since had overflown the ground Here where now streets are and the valleys low Of th' ample Circus cock-boats then did row Being hither come nor could they further go In bitter grief thus burst forth one or two Alas how fair ah me how like they be Yet this of both the perkest is to see If that the face the pedigree may shew Vnlesse I misse a God is one of you Yet were a God the authour of your race He sure would help in such a desp'rate case Your mother would but help her self doth need One day made mother and unmothered True twinnes in birth and death together drown In this sad stream He ceas'd and laid them down Both cry'd alike as if they knew their wo. These to their homes with watry cheeks do go A rush-boat on the top the babes upholds O how much fate that little cratch enfolds The boat by littles floting to the wood The floud decreasing pitch'd upon the mud A fig-tree stood the stump remains this day Then Rumina but now call'd Romula To these poore Barns there comes a she-wolf wild Most strange a wild beast should not hurt a child Yet that was nothing she assists and nurses Those whom their kindred to their death enforces She stands and fawns upon the nuddling twins And with her tongue licks o're their tender skins Mars-got you 'l say They boldly draw the teat And so are nourish'd with unhop'd-for meat The Wolf that place that place Lupercals nam'd She for her nurs'ry well is paid she 's fam'd Some draw Lupercal from th' Arcadian hill Where Pan Lyceus hath a chapell still Good wife leave craving neither charms nor vows Nor herbs can make thee mother of thy house Take patiently stripes from the fruitfull hand Thy father then shall be a father grand For 't was that time whenas their issues rare Good wives with sad tormenting pangs did bear My rape of Sabine maids was all in vain Cry'd Romulus This hapned in his reigne If from my wrong not strength but strife is grown I had farre better let those Dames alone A wood there grew to Juno's power divine An ages growth beneath mount Esquiline Both men and women all convented hither Right humbly fall down on their knees together Lo suddenly the tops of trees did quake And in her grove strange things the Goddesse spake Ye Latine Dames cries she apply a Goat All stood amaz'd at that ambiguous note There was a Soothsayer time conceals his name Who newly banish'd from Hetruria came He kills a goat the women as was will'd To th' goat-thong-lashes their bare backs did yield Ten times the Moon her waned light did gather The wife 's a mother and the man a father Thanks O Lucina thee thy grove thus styl'd Or ' cause thou first giv'st light to every child O spare Lucine and when wives bellies swell Bring their ripe burden eas'ly forth and well When day appears trust thou the winds no more That season hath deceitfull bin before The wind 's not certain and for full six dayes King Aeolus his castle-gate displayes Aquarius with his stooping pitcher now Falls off and Phoebus makes the Fishes glow He and his brother for joynt-stars they shine Bare on their backs they say two Pow'rs divine Dione flying terrible Typhone When Jove wag'd warre for heavens imperiall throne Comes to Euphrates with her little sonne And on the banks of Palestine sits down Tall canes and poplars on the margent grew And sallows hopes of her concealment shew There hid the trees did rustle in the wind She pale with fear suppos'd her foes behind And in her bosome culling her young sonne Cry'd Nymphs O aid two Deities undone Thus leaps she in these Fishes her did bear For which in heaven now deifi'd they are Hence Syrians hate to eat that kind of Fishes Nor is it fit to make their Gods their dishes Next day is void Quirinus he doth hold The third whose name was Romulus of old Either because the Sabines old that spear Did Quiris call which him to heaven did rear Or his Quirites styl'd him thus their King Or cause the Curets he to Rome did bring For when God Mars beheld new walls to stand And great acts done by Romulus his hand Great Jove sayes he the Romanes pow'rfull are And my own bloud hath in their deeds a share Let me enjoy one Sonne the other's dead Stand he in 's own and in his brothers stead You promis'd me one of those brothers you Would raise to heaven Be Joves word ever true Jove gave a grant and with his beckon shak'd Both Poles tall Atlas with his burden quak'd There is a place call'd Caprean lake of old There Romulus then chanc'd a court to hold About sunne-set grosse clouds heavens face withdrew A showring storm doth instantly ensue It thunder'd lightning cracks the heavens All flie The King on 's fathers horses mounts the skie The Lords all mourn for his supposed slaughter Which thought perhaps might have remain'd long after But Julius Procul from long Alba came The Moon-light scorn'd the use of torches flame Lo suddenly the left-hand-hedges quake He with his hairs turn'd bolt-upright starts back Quirinus larger then a man and fair In 's Consuls robe doth in the path appear Bid my Quirites not to mourn for me Their tears quoth he disgrace my Deitie Bring pious spice and Romulus adore And practice prowesse with the Romane lore This charg'd he vanish'd into gloomy aire He calls a court and doth his charge declare They build his temple give the hill his name And on set dayes adore him in the same Now learn thou why this day they also call Fools-holy-day the reason 's apt though small There were no skilfull husbandmen of old Our sturdy fathers toilsome warres did hold The sword was then in more request then plow Grounds unmanur'd small profit did allow Yet did our ancients sow and mow some barley Of barley Ceres had her first-fruits early This on their hearths to mend the tast they dri'd In which much losse for want of skill they bide For sometimes they sweep up dead coals for corn Sometimes the fire their cottages did burn Hence