sure ere it be night But if thou dost without delay the thing Knowne to the world in Claudius eares will ring VVhen this disgracethrough each mans mouth hath past Alas good man Claudius shall know it last Meane while doe thou thy Messaline obey And sport and reuell with her night and day For tie all one now thou hast done the wrong Claudius of force must heare of it ere long And then wer 't thou farre fairer then thou art Of his displeasure thou must feele the smart Thy milke white necke must stoope vnto the block And yeeld it selfe vnto the fatall stroke Thus may we see those things which meÌ„ think good Are nothing so if rightly vnderstood VVhat then shall therefore men for nothing craue Soft if thou seeke and wouldst my counsell haue Doc thus seeke to those heauenly powers aboue Leaue all to them for sure they doe vs loue Let God see first what doth agree with vs VVhat shall be fit and most commodious God doth not giue according to our wit For pleasant things he giues vs what most fit Deerer is man to him then man can be Vnto himselfe yet blind and wretched we Carried away by force of our owne mind Mighty is lust sense brutish reason blind A wooing do we goe but in such sort As if we went vnto our brothel sport Red hot with lust ranker then any Goat Or any ship that still in salt doth float VVith glaring eies we stare vpoÌ„ our loues And looke them through and through while lust vs moues VVhy should we not we hope it is no sinne But loue yea yea le ts aske our hearts within At night our thought our nose doth hunt by day VVe talke and talke and yet we nothing say A mischiese on this lust but most of all On lust which honestie it selfe doth call This thought doth gull vs so we thinke all 's well Find fault who will all 's one here will we dwell This vgly thought makes blushes impudent And honest houres in lustfulnesse be spent It makes ranke garlikes stinking hoarie head Grow greene againe and liue though almost dead O that I did that mould and garden keepe VVhere this foule garlike lusts to lodge and sleepe How would I teare it vp How would I rend It's blade ere it my garden should offend It should not with his breath my nose disease It should not with its sight mine eies displease I should soone bring its sprouting blade fullow And send it to some other place to grow Away ranke stinke away get thee to those Like to thy selfe but grow not necre the Rose A mischiefe On 't can any thinke it fit That Garlike in a Roses lap should sit Garlike must needes o'recome and kill the Rose Prickles cannot defend it from such foes If wedded true loue twixt these euer be Let sweete and sowre old age and youth agree But all in vaine this clouen Garlike head Madded with lust cannot be answered There let it grow then if it needes must be Yet pretie Rose still shall I pity thee For thou must needes be quickly withered And woe is me anon thou wilt be dead Then all too late thou wilt repent the houre Thou hadst not ioyn'd thee to some sweeter flower Then shalt thou see for all thy subtill wit That all that is desired is not fit VVomen doe husbands men doe wiues desire And such and such they earnestly require And when they haue them straight without delay For sonnes and daughters they begin to pray God onely knowes meane time what câ—e we craue VVhat wife and children euery man shall haue VVedding and hanging go by destinie And what a man must haue he cannot flie But that thou maist aske something and obtaine it Vnto the Temple get thee ne're refraine it Looke on the entrailes of some beast and vow And search the puddings of some slaughterd sow Pray that within thy body sound and whole There may be lodged a sound and wholsome soule Pray for a mind that 's braue and valiant VVhom feare of death as yet could neuer daunt VVho mongst rich natures greatest benefits Accounts that time when life and world he quits Knowing that while he liues he still doth die But when he dies he liues immortally VVho in meane time come whatsoeuer will Or toile or labour he endures it still He knowes not how to chafe he couets nought His mind to basenesse neuer can be brought The toiles and trauels of great Horcules He doth preferre before dull stupid ease Or wantonnes or feasting or discourse Sardanapalus is a beast and worse But let me shew what thou thy selfe maist giue One way there is no more in peace to liue VVherein thou mai'st liue most contentedly And that is if thou shalt liue vertuously Fortune auaunt were men but onely wise Thou had'st not power on them to tyrannize And yet a Goddesse of thee we must make And giue thee leaue in heauen a place to take Thou art a Goddesse and in heauen we place thee But were men wise they out of heaueÌ„ would chace thee Laus Deo Matritae Sept. 5. 1612. stilo vet pictoribus atque poëtis Quidlibet audendi semper fuit aequa potestas Veniam petimúsque damúsque vicissim W. B. FINIS
THAT WHICH SEEMES BEST IS WORST EXPREST IN A PARAPHRASTICAL TRANSCRIPT of IVVENALS tenth Satyre TOGETHER WITH THE tragicall narration of Virginias death interserted By W. B. Nec verbum verbo curabit reddere fidus Interpres The pith is Iuuenals but not the rime All that is good is his the rest is mine LONDON Imprinted by Felix Kyngston for Nathanael Newbery and are to bee sold at his shop vnder Saint Peters in Cornehill and in Popes-head Alley 1617. IVVENAL HIS TENTH SATYRE The Argument of this tenth Satyre Wealth Honour Empire strength and Eloquence Beautie long Life Children and VViues we wish These happinesses seeme to outward sense In this worlds swelling sea for these we fish Happy we thinke our selues if these we haue These therefore onely of the Gods we craue And yet these things are those which hurt vs most VVealth temptes the thiefe Honor the enuious man Strength makes men rash Eloquence is crost Beauty 's a whore long Life is but a span And Wiues and Children say as doe the rest That things most sought for are not alwaies best The man who would be truly blest therefore Must vnto vertues way himselfe applie He must be patient constant seeke no more Resolu'd and neither wish nor feare to die And let him vnto God referre the rest VVho better then our selues knowes what is best IN all the lands from Gades vnto the East To Ganges few there are who know what 's best Or worst though error 's mist were quite remoued For what with reason is there feard or loued What in conceit hath ere so well begun Which hath not in the end been wisht vndone The gentle gods giuing as men would haue them Haue taken from them all that ere they gaue them They by their granting all that ere men craued Haue vndone many a house they might haue saued In peace in warre most hurtfull things are sought Thus flowing eloquence hath come to nought Murdred it selfe Thus Miloes wondrous strength Wherein he trusted was his bane at length But heapes of coine hoorded with too much care Strangle and so doth wealth which is so rare Exceeding others their estates and all As doth the Brittish Whale the Dolphin small Thus in those cruell times when Nero bad The Souldiers rifle all the goods men had They get them presently to Longines house To Senecaes rich gardens where they rouse And spoile and beare away what ere they can And then beser the house of Lateran These doe they rob while as the poore man sleepes Seldome the Souldier in a cottage peepes Beare but a little of thy siluer plate At night about thee when thou trauelst late The sword the speare the shaddow of a reede Shaken in Moone light filles thee full of dread Whereas the empty traueller goes by And sings before a thiefe full merily The chiefest vowes in euery Church most knowne Are riches wealthes increase our cofers growne And yet in pitchers poysons are not ta'ne In cups beset with gemmes suspect thy bane Or when the Setine Wine thou maist behold Burning within a burnisht pot of gold Now which of these two wise men dost thou praise Or he which laught or he which wept alwaies A laughing censure is an easie thing But strange whence t'others teares should alwaies spring Merry Democritus did alwaies smile And beate his lungs with laughter yet meane while Within those Cities where this wise man bode There went no purple golden coates abroad There were no Fasces Chaires of State as then No swooping traines or litters borne by men O had he seene the Praetor mounted hye And in his chariot through the street passe by In mighty Iupiters owne robes yclad Or in his gowne with gawdy colours made Or else the circle of his massie crowne Such as might waigh presse his shoulders downe The loade whereof in publike makes him swet Now least this Consull might himselfe forget Within his Coach his seruant sitteth by Teaching his Masters pride humilitie Anon he takes his mase of iuory On top whereof Ioues bird sits perching high There may you heare a noise of Corneters And here a ranke of other Officers Others attending at the horses raines All which he hires and with his mony gaines Democritus was wont in the same sort At euery one he met to laugh and sport Whose wisedome shewes that so it may fall out Lords may be borne amidst the witlesse rout Mens ioyes and sorrowes he a like disdain'd And at their teares would laugh wheÌ„ they coÌ„plain'd ' When fortune frown'd to him it was no matter Hee 'd send a halter to her and point at her Thus man desires both vaine and hurtfull things For which vnto the Gods his vowes he brings Others desirous to be great and knowne Haue been enuied and thereby ouerthrowne Their Catalogue and all their acts defaced Their honours lost and they themselues disgraced Their statuaes spoiled and dragged along the street Their Coach-wheeles broke and al trod vnder feet And their proud horses which in triumph went They must be slaine and for their Masters shent And now the smoke and fire begins to flame And that adored head which had such fame Mighty Seianus he who was so great Begins to frie amidst the flaming heat And of the ashes of his honoured face Pitchers are made and vessels of disgrace O who could thinke that euer great Seian ' Should being burnt become a dripping-pan Where are thy Lawrels thy triumphant bayes Thy buls for sacrifice the people sayes Seianus to his death is led forth right And goes along in all the peoples sight Whereat the enuious multitude is glad Looke say they what a face what lips hee had Saith one I neuer lou'd this haughtie man I did foresee this end when he began But say now tell me what was his offense Who his accusers vpon what pretense What proofes what witnesses did any bring Against Seianus when they wrought this thing Tut none of these it was sufficient There was a letter from Campania sent Which to the Senate came O ho wa' st so No more I guesse now how the world doth goe But what meane while what doe the people say As alwaies that which fortune does doe they Fortunes inconstancie they aemulate Whom Fortune loues they loue whoÌ„ not they hate Though a mans life his death may well commend Yet doe the people hate a man condemn'd And yet these people these selfe very same Who now cry out vpon Seianus name Had yet the Goddesse Nurscia him defended Or had the Princes life with age been ended Tha 〈…〉 y houre wherein the Prince had di'd God â—â—e Seianus had the people cride He had been made Augustus he alone Had had the peoples acclamation But since it is not now as erst of old Since now the peoples voices are not sold Indeed they once did giue the Empery The Fasces Legions and each dignity But now they leaue and lay aside this care And with their bread and sports contented
other tales of old Which lying Greece hath in her story told How Cyrus dig'd downe Athos how he came And with his Nauie ouerfaild the same How in the sea on ships a bridge he set O're which his armie and his troops might get And how the Persian souldiers passing by Haue at one dinner dranke whole riuers dry He which made land be sea and sea be land saith Sostratus who could his power withstand And yet this Cyrus with his flying fame What was he when from Salamine he came He which with whips was wont to scourge the wind To whom great Aeolus was farre more kind He which would lay vp Neptune fast in chaines Or bore him through the eare with gentler paines Can any thinke the Gods O monstrous blindnes Would any of them doe this foole a kindnesse How came he backe then onely with one boate Which mōgst his slaughtered mē in blood did float Thus glory ends and thus ends he which sought it Thus was it sold and thus he deerely bought it Great Iupiter saith one prolong my dayes Thus somtimes merrie somtimes sad he prayes Meane while the man that liueth to be old Sustaines more miserie then can be told Old age with many sorrowes is distrest And those vncessant that it cannot rest How fowle and ougly t' is to looke vpon Full of diseases and corruption O how vnlike a man it makes a man His soft white skinne it doth like lether tan It makes his cheekes hang flag wrinckles his brow Hollowes his eyes and makes his shoulders bow In Tabracena like an old Bitch-Ape Among the trees so doth he rub and scrape Mong young men many differences be He is more faire then this and this then he One is more swift another stronger is Each ioyeth in his proper qualities But old mens faces all doe looke as one His limmes doe tremble and his voyce doth mone He shakes his head and like an infant goes And coughes and driuels through his snotty nose He suppes his meat and softer bread he chawes Alas a crust would bruse his toothlesse iawes A knife he cares not for giue him a spoone Feede him with pap and milke and sleepe at noone Old man alas he is vnsauory Vnto himselfe his wife and progeny He which would be his heire cannot abide him Cossus he stops his nose and doth deride him The rellish of his meate and drinke is past For now his palate is quite out of tast The pleasures he was wont in youth to find Are now long since forgot and out of mind He can doe nothing now as heretofore Those daies be gone he can doe so no more His bodie 's chill his lusty blood is cold Alas put cloathes vpon him now he 's old If he pleas'd others in his youthfull time They shall doe well if now they cherish him They must not looke for former pleasures still VVithout performance what auailes the will But now behold another losse appeares The noise of musicke pleaseth not his eares No though Seleucus sing with all his skill Or all his consort with their trumpets shrill It skills not in the Theater where he sit Cornet or trumpet he heares neare a whit His boy which tells him who comes in and out And what 's the clocke must in his deafe eare shout The little life which in his pulse doth beate Is warmed onely by a feuers heate A swarme of old diseases crawle about him Aches and paines within him and without him Whose seuerall names if any man desire Sooner I might expresse did neede require The names of those which haue with Hippia laine How many patients Themison hath slaine How many young men Basilus hath spoild How many pupils Hirrus hath beguild How many men long Maura in one day Hath swallowed quick and brought them to decay I could in lesser time at large expresse How many Townes Licinius doth possesse Who now into the Senate house doth passe Who erst no better then a barber was One of his shoulders this of his loines complaines Anothers hips are weake and full of paines A fourth hath lost both eyes and doth enuie A very blinkes that hath but halfe an eie His pale wan lippes whilome so cherry red Must from anothers fingers now be fed Whose hungry appetite at times of meales Was wont to gape and ring the kitchin peales Like a young Swallow waiting for her dam He now sits gaping while they doe him cram But which is worst he turnes directly sot His friends and seruants names he hath forgot They which did sup with him but yester night Before next morning are forgotten quite Nay his own children flesh and bloud which came Out of his loines bred by him fie for shame These are vnknowne nay he is so misled That his owne heires are disinherited And Phiale that Witch that common Whore Gulles him and turnes his children out of doore And all the goods this doating foole ere got Must fall at length vnto this harlots lot A mischiefe on 't can it be prosperous When old age dotes and must be lecherous No no gainst nature this is done to spite her And fortune certainely at length will right her O i st not braue to see a foule ranke Goate Hunting traine-sent vpon a peticoate To see an old deformed crooked Ramme Raging with lust vpon a silly Lambe 'T is odious madnes natures selfe doth hate it And sense and reason doe abhominate it Yet sense and reason here can doe no good Nature disswades but is not vnderstood Hence she growes malecontent hanges the head And seemes to liue but she indeede is dead Nature and sense and reason hence are gone Madnesse and lust predominate alone When age and lust drie wood and fire do meet How can the flame be quencht when did you see 't Thus to liue long and then to be a foole Grant it O Iupiter to him that woole But say that sense and wit remaine intire And age and wisedome happily conspire When strength and outward beauties are declin'd Yet vertue still suruiueth in the mind Is not this length of daies to be desired As deepely wisht as worthily admired Yes certainely and yet this happy age Is but a scene vpon a tragicke stage While like a sad spectator he must see Life mixt with death and ioy with miserie He liues indeed to see his kinred die His brethren and his sisters destinie But this most makes him weary of his life Death lets him liue but killes his deerest wife This is the paine which longer life attendes Still to bewaile the fortune of its friends To see ones house perpetually to wast And to be spent and quite consum'd at last Onely himselfe now like a man forlorne Is left aliue their funerals to mourne Vnhappie he must sorrow all alone For all his friends alas are dead and gone King Nestor if that Homer hath not lied Did liue three hundred yeeres before he died Was he not happy which from yeere to yeere So long together could