with him so 't was agreed To beare him company Well mote they speed The Man a saddle sets vpon his backe A halâ—er on his head which wit doth lacke What meane you master quoth the simple Asse These will but make me weary as I passe Foole quoth the Man thinke you I le haue my Pageâ— Not suited to the fashions of this age I should be sham'd to sâ—e you neere me stand Without a cloake and bout your neck a band Proud was the silly Asse to heare he stood So high in fauour and doth onward skud With willing pace not like a sleepy snaile But tossing of his eares winching his taile Long trauailde they till to a brook they came Wherein a many siluer fishes swam A bridge was nâ—â—re but Man withheld his eye And would not see the bridge some reason why The Asse went through the water quoth he then All beasts are far more happier than all Men. You are by nature safely cloth'd and armde Gainst cold heat drought and wet we easly harmde With any small annoyance You are free And gainst all these extreames must patient be The Asse being prais'd vpon no ground stood still But must turne backe againe to shew his skill To boast his valour let his Master know All his good parts and sâ—ruices arow Now sir quoth he you on my backe I 'le beare Safe o're this waterâ— Gâ—t vp nothing fearâ— The Man leapt lightly vp Dissimulation Doth neither stirrup nâ—â—d nor great perswasion The Asse doth quickly passe the Riâ—er Then He stayes and prayes him light No sâ—ith the Man Proceed vpon your iourney you can beare I dare not light to fall I stand in fearâ— I 'le kneele then quoth the Asse and down he kneels The Man straight raisde him with his whip and heels O Master quoth the Assâ—â— you promisde meat Youâ— couâ—nant giues no liberty to bâ—at â—oole quoth the Man the word expresly meant Wages for worke impliâ—s a punishmâ—nt For sluggishnesse and sloth make haste away Our businâ—sse and the time permits no stay So on they goe till the Asse now almost tyred Askt pitty of the Man and ease desired Thâ—t the would daigne a little while to light The Man denide it and then laught out-right And doubled blowes with whip with heele staffe O tyrant quoth the Asse dost fight and laugh Are these th' effects of promises and words Is this the peace your law bond faith affords Keep you your couenants thus O man thinke how You make vs traytors when you breake your vow Why quoth the Man my couenants are vnbroke I haue performde whatsere I wrote or spoke I giue you meat my meaning likevvise vvas To giue you blovves if that you plaide the Asse I was to haue your exâ—remâ—nts and sweat I cannot haue those but by vvorke and heat Therefore I ride you You were to attend In all my iourneyes on me like a friend And vvhat is liker to a friend I pray Then a mans drudge that toyles both night day That carries him through thicke and thin vvith paine And a sure stud for all turnes doth remaineâ— O quoth the Assâ— the vvorld vvas neuer good Since other on mentall reseruation stood I only vvas to beare you company True quoth the Man to beare that 's carry me O damn'd equiuocation vvho at first quoth the poore Asse this double Doctrine nurst No Merchant Tradesman Lavvyer nor Diuine Though much froÌ„ truth they warp froÌ„ grace decline Could be the aâ—thors of this ample euill But truthes professed foe that iâ—gling deuill That Diuell who taught it first and practiz'd too In paridise vnto our generall woe That Diuell which doth renue in euery age By this alone his kingdome and image For without this his kingdome would decay And without this his image weare away This onely murthers truth opposeth faith Deceiuing whether true or false it saith If true we dare not trust it fearing ill If false like truth it looks and tempts vs will Quoth Man thou preachest well and well mightst passe Couldst thou speake Latin too to say a Masse Thy folly was in fault rashly to draw Thy articles without aduice at law There wanted stops pricks letters here and there And by your leaue some words the truth to cleere Nay quoth the Asse had euery word stop letter Been left vnwritten my estate were better This is the plague when power expoundeth lawes Not as the truth requires but as the cause When euery letter may an error breed To helpe the rich and begger such as need When tyrants do capitulate and treat Not to conclude but to deceiue and cheat When your false minds are candi'de ore with words As your gay sheathes conceale your bloody swords Now quoth the Man I thinke that Balaams Asse Or golden Apuly's thy Tutor was Thou art so eloquent so learned witty As if thou hadst been taught in Athens Citty In Athens quoth the Asse now I espie You speake no truth but when yee thinke to lie I was a Cockny once of noble blood Traind vp in Athens Court and in the flood of pleasure bathde my youth but not in Art Which causde this transformation teares and smart Yet went our Master and was well allowdeâ— With many of my kin in that thicke crowde When Philip did so learnedly dispute And made Demost â—enes with wonder mute I was in fauour then and then did passe For braue and wise though now I be an Asse For no Man ought to iudge by forme or face By fauour or imployment or by place Which are the wise and foolish Dunces oft â—Passe by great doctors Baboones leap aloft And they may proue like me liâ—e to be switcht If they my fortune meet to be bewitcht How I bewitched was you now shall heare There is no true accomplisht Caualere That hath not trauailde And the'rs few of these Which scape bewitching passing ouer Seas When I first trauail'd my braue Spirit did moue T' attempt great Ladies and to purchace loue I purcha'st loue so long till all I had Was purcha'st from me and my selfe full glad To leaue both Court and Citie and to try A better Country fortune to espie With much much toyle and many courtly shifts At length I did arriue mongst craggy clifts And barraine rocks t' a smoaky house which stood Alone besides a fearefull desart wood There with a wither'd witch I long time staid A Bel-dame that had been Medeâ—es maid She turn'd me to an Asse that very day Th' Odcombian wit did odly scape away He may his good shooes praise pray for his heeles By those he scap't And yet I feare he feeles His braine was turning if he euer passe That way againe he will turne perfect Asse And so will many more as well as I Except they stop their eares as they passe by No quoth the Man this is a pretty fable Fitting the end so neere vnto the stable I le now alight we two are perfect friends My iourney and thy
if they had not attained preferment would haue thought themselues wronged and the world would haue thought them vnfortunate as if enuy had crost honour from beholding them with equiualence when now hauing attained what their ambitions desire they see their owne insufficiencies and the world iudging them vnworthy of such eminence say they serue for nothing but to keepe out better Men. Their high flight rather helpt by the winds strength by fauour and grace then by their owne wings vertue and true worth serues onely to shew the world it s owne blindnesse and their weakenesse for being aloft in the top and pride of their pitch they make many plaines and dare not come freely at all occasions but they soone stoop to the lure of the dead quarry hauing good stomackes but bad hearts what they speake what they doe as not out of their owne strength and sufficiency but from others direction They are french souldiers and Statesmen their horses their seruants must be Knighted for these did the seruice It was not the Rider his care was only to keepe the saddle warme and to sit sure Againe it tells Superiours that the poorest and most despised creatures may annoy them Lice presume into â—â—araohs bed-chamer in spite of the Guard the Vshers and Pensioners the Squires of the body the Gentleman and the Groomes where none durst come before but Minions and Fauorits Wormes craule into Herods wombe euen then when his flatterers and all the people crie out vox Deâ— non homâ—nis Hee spake well but he did nothing he vsed eloquence and learning to his owne glory not to Go ds God therefore shew'd him that he was a worme and no man who a little befote did both in place and voice shew himselfe like a god A â—lie skips into Pope Alexanders cup and into his throat and kils him who a little before chalenged to haue the keyes of life and death in his hands and with his cup of abominati on s poysoned not only the poore flies the subiects but the Eagles the kings of the earth Despise not therefore litle ones Remember how Sisera and Abimelech fell by the hand of women And Sigebert king of the West-saxons was slaine by a swine-heard of Combraâ—â—s euen in that place where Sigebert had slaine Combranus before for the good and wholsome counsell he gaue the vnthankfull King SOLARIVM DEDICATED To the absolute and open enemies of Ignorance and Darknesse and the true Louers and Followers of Light and Knowledge Sr. Iohn Crofts and his happy LADY THe Clock that chim'de your praise went right for still The Diall rulde his tongue the Sunne his Will And as these led him right you follow may To heauenly glory through the Milk-white-way IN some part of the World I know not where But sure Sâ— Thomas Mardâ—uile was there Betwixt a Clocke and a Sunne-dyall fell A difference which I with sorrow tell With sorrow for this error calls to minde Th' vncertainty which we in Story finde Where computations crosse and make vs doubt Of what we all seeke cannot one finde out How to agree and reconcile th' obscure The fabulous and câ—rtainâ— Age of our The Age obscure is that before the Floud The Fabulous on fained Wonders stood The race of gods on goldâ—n Legends told Where for sad truths mad â—ictions were enrold This latter Age more plaine and cleere we call The certaine Age or th' Age Historicall Yet houres and dayâ—s and yeeres haue sure been lost In some of these which our accounts haue crost And so they easily might when from the Sunne To lying Clocks for our accounts we runne This tale makes all apparant or at least Makes probable what some haue thought a ieast Within a Churchyard once a Dyall stood Vpon a square hewne Marble which the Flood In vaine with enuious waues had often sought To spoile when it the whole world vnder brought But Seth's wise sonnes had fastned it so sure It could all stormesâ— and streâ—â—e of times endure And thereon they had caru'd the Art and lore They learned of their Grandsire long beforeâ— Vpon a Church or steeples side neere hand A goodly Clocke of curious worke did stand Which ouer paysde with lead or out of frame Did time miscall and euery houre misname Thâ— Dyall hearing this aloud gan cry Kinde neighbour Clocke your glib tongue tells a lye Reforme your error for my Gnomonâ—aith â—aith You gad too fast and misse an houres faith Foole quoth the Clocke reforme thy selfe by me The fault may rather in thy Gnomon be Had'st thou tould euer truth to what end then Was I plac'de here by th' art of cunning Men The weather-Cocke vpon the steeple standing And with his sharpe eye all about commanding Heard their contention wil'd them to appeale To him the Chiefe of all that Common-weale Told them that he was set to Ouersee And to appease to guide and to agree All diff'rence in that place and whatso'ere He setteth downe from Iustice cannot erre For from the winde he information takes Which searcheth through the world swiftly makeâ— A true suruay of euery proofe and cause And doth of Reason know the ground and lawes He bids them boldly speake and bring their pleas And hee 'le define th' infallible truth with ease The Dial then beginnes The globe-like world From Center to Circumf rence being whorl'd In neuer-resting motion maketh â—ime In sundry reuolutions fall and clime This Time the measure of all mutable things Comes with lead-heeles flies hence with fiery wings Sleepes with two eyes hath two eyes euer waking Twixt minuts hours daies nights distinction making And though the diff'rence and degrees of change In seuerall yeares be wonderfull and strange Some by the Moone some reckoning by the Sunne And some the great yeare wheÌ„ th' heauens hauing ruâ— Their compleat course doe to that point arriue Whence the first mouer them did motion giue Yet the most generall certaine count of all Is measur'd by the Sunne whose rise and fall Makes day and night and noone and midnight too Spring Summer Winter Autumne and the two Solsticiums Equinoctials and the houres Now naked and then deck't in gaudy flowers This Adam to his Grandsons hauing told With other Arts and wonders manifold How all the world both fire and flood should try They plac'd me here to tell posterity Such hidden mysteries And to direct The wiser Soules deep-diuing intellect About me they haue grau'd seauen liberall Arts The Sciences with their diuiner parts A circle and a Gnomon set aboue With Characters which as the Sunne doth moue In his ascent or low declension tells The certaine houre degree and all things else But for my speech was slow and cause the Sunne Did often vnder clouds for pleasure runne Succeeding ages did this Câ—ocke out finde T' attend on me and to declare my minde From me intelligence and rules ro gather To measure night close stormes and cloudy weather And in
bold Oppose contemne and scorne whats'ere is old You onely loue to see but not to doo You dote on knowledge and on error too T' is error in our sight to ouâ—râ—eene And but our owne all iudgements dis-esteeme T' is error to be fondly ouer-wise Too pure too iust too perfect too precise There is a meaneâ— For knowledge sure doth liue Onely where it doth good to others giue You too too sawcie hidden secrets handle And too too fond your oâ—ne conceits doe dandle And cocker with obseruance being so A friende to superstition though a foe The light you vse is borrowed not your owne The colours that you see their ground vnknowne Your darke imperfect double glimmering sight Is but th' extended beames of greater light Arising from vicinitie of fire To which the purest elements aspire In their refined parts the earth in gold And pretious stones doe most resemblance hold The sea in salt in Pearles in dewes that rise And to the Sonne-ward with ambition flies The Ayre in colous and in Meteors bright Which the Sunnes place vsurpe in darkest night T is fire alone that searcheth and refines And doth diuide the grosse from purer mines T is fire that makes grasse herbe andtree to grow Meltes the seas Icie chaines and th' earths cold snow It cheares the young it cherisheth the old Reuiues the dying makes the Coward bold Nothing without it can be said to liue Whats'ere hath being it doth glory giue Which makes me to determine that the light Which you inuisible call is but a sprite Made by your feare and strong imagination Without true being essence or foundation For light the greater 't is doth more appeare So should that light of lights if such there were My indgement therefore in this rule doth runne There 's nothing greater then the glorious Sunne Here I set downe my rest And for the schooles That teach beleefe let them still tutor fooles From your contention my instruction sprung And thus I learn'd to thinke when I was young The Mole doth feede too much on earthly meat And the Chameleon nought but ayre doth eat I neither like your fast nor yet your feasting For twixt you two all earnest turnes to ieasting And doth perswade me thinke there is no food In earth or ayre that doth or hurt or good So all my knowledge practise life doth chime According to the current state and time I thinke they 'r only gulls that liue in awe Of any thing but want death and the law I quench all fiery zeal wheres'ere I coâ—e And would haue Policie speake Religion dumbe I poyson with my breath both foe and friend And to my pleasuredoâ— each proiect bend In briefe I onely am a freeman borne Who loue my sâ—lfe alone and others scorne The Lamprey hearing this damn'd Atheist tell A tale befitting none bâ—t Machiuael Thrust his eye-guarded hâ—ad aboue the brim Of the rug'd wauesâ— and to the shore did swim And on his slippery belly gan to slide Till he came neere the Salamanders side Thou cursed slaue qâ—oth he though I proceed From some of thy neere kin of serpents seed And am halfe serpent as thou wholly art Yet I am halfe a fish and euen that part Prouokes me contradict the cursed note Which thou didst vomit from thy venomd throat Thy Pedigree is lineally detiued From that great Serpent which at first depriued The rest of feet and being ouer-wise Gull'd credulous man of glorious paradise Still thou partak'st that nature and each tree Thy tongue or teeth touch so infected be In root and fruit that who so eats doth die Poyson'd b'accurst cold infidelitie Too light beleefe and too too earnest thirst Of curious knowledge causde deâ—th enter first But now thy skill hath brought it so about That hearing seeing feeling still we doubt And flying one extreame we fondly fall Into the contrary wise fooles and all Yet blindnesse better is then hauing eyes Not t' acknowledge truthes but count them lyeâ— T' is better to be doubtfull what we know Then to be Truthes profest and open foe The Mole and the Chameleon better are And neerer truth then thou thy selfe by farre Yet the Chamâ—leon somewhat doth resemble Thy nature but he can more close dissemble He is not so prophane so impious bold To call all truth in doubt both new and old Though he giues darknesse not the praise he ought And too too curious after knowledge sought Yet he confesseth that there is a light He cannot see through th' impotence of sight But you all light and knowledge do confine Within the Sunne as if it were diuine And like a desperate traytor foolish theefe From art and nature steale to kill beleefe Come then good fellowes quoth the Lamprey take This monster vp against vs let vs make Him an examplâ— of our iustice showne Vpon Truthes foe so manifestly knowne With that he nimbly twines himselfe about The Salamander being quicke and stour Chameleon and the Mole the Lamprâ—y aide Which makes the Salamander much disinay'd Yet he doth lay about with tongue teeth nailes And bites them all but oddes at length prâ—uailes And they remaining victors cast him downe Fâ—om the steepe cliffe and so the Atheist drowne Then comming backe they two the Lamprey pray His wiâ—e opinion of their stâ—ife to say That they may know to which part he enclines Whether to darknesse or where spl ndor shines He soone consents and tells how he by kinde Bâ—ed and brought vp in â—uâ— is of the minde The Mole spake truth For happinesse quoth he Consists in what we haue not what we see And sight prouokes vs wish and couet change And so in boundlâ—sse endlesse toyle we range He that knowes most knowes best what he doth misse The losse of Paradâ—se is only this Thâ— simple innocent truth this instance fameth Man in the darke being naked nothing shameth Thus he discourst then tells how he behaues Himselfe in darknâ—sse vnderâ—eath the waues How he prefers old gnorance before Nâ—w Kâ—owledge and I wot knowes cause therefore Shewes how for this opinion he was brought Before the Whale yet loâ—g in vaine was sought Tells how he scapes the searâ—h bâ— many creeks And winding holes when Hippâ—a him seeks For they Phoenician Creâ—ishes being swift Are Purseuants which he can hardly shift Yet he hath learned counsell who directs His whole proceeding when he ought suspects First subtle Polypus to whom he cleaues And seeming part of him the search deceaues The turbulent Cuttle who doth raise the mud Aud such a colour mingle with the flood That no eye can discouer where he lies And so he often scapes the craftie spies Then creepes to stones that lye on silt and sand Not to the corner-stone on stedfast landâ— And if by chance they finde him spite of these And so attach him then he can with ease Slip through their fingers or himselfe vnwinde By leauing some part of his slime behinde He can equiuocate and
the Morne finding his reckoning wrong By my straight rule to tune and set his song But this forgetfull Clocke at randome strikes Not as I bid but fondly what it likes Robs short-liu'de Man of his most precious time And orderlesse doth others orders chime It will not follow me but wanting wit VVould haue the Sunne and Me to waite on it This matter so apparant though I might Wild Weather-Cocke except against your right To iudge and thinke you partiall at the least Since you o're-cloude me when the Sun comes West And will take part with it that 's in the name In nature and in sight almost the same With you yet know I'lâ— not refuse Thy censure but high place with honour vse Thus did the Dyal end and then the Clocke Low-louting to the powder Weather Cocke Began his plâ—a Thou mighty Soueraigne VVhich doest the vniuerâ—all â—udge remaine In all those places where thy pearcing eye Can see or my shrill voice be heâ—rd to cry Behold this impudent poore neglâ—ctâ—d post How it gainst me and gainst thy staâ—â— doth bost Embasingthy great woâ—th nâ—glâ—cting mine As if the glorious Sunne did nâ—uer shine Nor his sweet influence on vs lâ—t fall But that the Dial had ingrost vp all VVhen all the world knowes thou wer 't placed there The sleepy Hindâ— vp to his worke to reare To call the Scholler to his booke and wake The Theâ—â—e which at thy shrill voice gins to shake Thou art the cheerefull dayes Embassador In whose praise once these lines composed were A crowned King a compleat Knight An armed Captaine fit to fight A plumed Courtier fairely clad A louer that was neuer sad A Trumpetterâ— the house wifes Mate Who riseth early sleepeth late A Querister the poore mans Clocke All this is our great Weather-Cocke This sacred Antheme all the world doth singâ— To thee the Suns bird â—ho doth tidings bring Oâ— his approch and rising as for me I heere was seated next thee in degree To giue thee ease to tell the wondring people What thou discouer'st from that loâ—tie steeple The whil'st thou keep'st thy voice from â—ubâ—les And art for silence honour'd with large fees The Dial is my ward first placed there That Common Persons who presume not neere Thy hallow'd thronâ— may haue intelligence And learne from me the close and hidden sence Of all those Characters and not expound As list themselues darke riddles so profound Nor contradict nor yet correct by force According to the Gnomon my true course But the false Gnomon rather to correct By my aduice whose way is still direct Who knowes not that the Sun in his round race Many degrâ—es is gone from his first place And like a drunkard reeling to and fro With giddy steps doth shift his circle so That where he was euen now he comes no more His course is all confusde behin'ds before Needs must the Dial then deceiued be Which trusts a Guide that doth so disagree Within it selfe and without iudgement shines Alike on all making of fooles Diuines And teaching Fishermen to see as farre As learned Shepheards without other starre Too common in this Guide to guide aright Or if he could where is the Guide for night I then am present still at euery neede Poore erring man in ignorant night to leade Then why should this bold Dial dare to speake Against my greatnesse or the orders breake Of custome and consent since all make choice To feede fast pray or play led by my voice And that all bargaines made all wagers laide Not by the Dial but the Clocke are paide Which truth whilst all the world dare neuer doubt This Dial seemes to question and growne stout Excâ—pts against thy iudgement too that thus He might be free and seeme to gouerne vs. But since our causes are so neere of kinne Let that respect some grace and fauour winne With thy high holinesse that thou maist see To giue iust sentence for your selfe and me The weather-Cocke thrice turn'd himselfe about As taking care to minde the matter out And thrice return'd as if he were as free From preiudice as from integritie Then thrice hee claps his wings which courage showes And thrice aloude his senslesse sentence crowes To giue a reason wherefore how and what When where by whom or fondly this or that Might argue reference to higher power But what is he whose place doth equall our We are the rule of reason truths cleare law Heare then with reuerence and obey with awe Without more question argument or triall The iudgement I pronounce against the Dial. The Dial shall be guided by the Clockâ— This is the sentence of the weather Cock Which when the Clâ—ck had heard puftvp withpâ—ide He ginnes the wronged Dial to deride And sits his tongue at large too much too soone Twelu times he fetch'd his breath laugh'd out none The Dial then with indignation moued By this inuectiue speech their fault reproued Poore silly Clock quoth he reioyce thy â—ill Time will reforme thy ignorant zeale with sâ—ill Stay thy distempered course which hurried now By mad-braind humor goes it knowes not how Time that 's my pupill shall thy Tutor be And teach a diff'rence twixt thy selfe and me Then thou wilt know thy error and recant That euer thou wert proud of so much want But as for thee thou iudge corrupt and base Who bindst all knowledge Prentise to thy place Know this th' all-seeing Sunne thy folly knowes And to each vulgar eye thy shaddow showes That they may plainly see how poore thou at Thy head deform'd defectiue euery part And that those high prerogatines of state You challenge proper to your selfe are late Vpstart intrusions vsurpations new Forg'd by the force or flattery of some few The promise which you boast to haue the winde Blow where you list and alteâ— when you minde Is false and foolish but 't was promisde still To blow and guide you right if that you will And so it doth so it doth others too If they consent not whether they will or no. For when they would the point and quarter know Where it doth breath on me they looke I show The truth to them and thee if you looke right If not you are misled by your owne sight But how can'st thou others from error keepe When as thy selfe foulded in error deepe Shun'st reformation and wilt neither minde My graue directions nor the powerfull wind I can remember long before thou Wert When wise Alcedo stood where as thou art He calm'd all stormes and pacified the wind To patient sufferance bent his humble minde He to the fisher and the Seaman gaue Directions how their storme-tost barke to saue When by the Lee-shore when to lanch the Maine And when to lie at Hull when to remaine In harbour Anchor-fast and when to saile With a full winde and when againe to vaile How where and when to cast their nets and lay Their hidden hookes where all the skull do play Some of each kinde
when sentence goes awâ—y Where the hidden ground doth lie He knoâ—es if it be true or no The doubtfull witnesse sweares vntoâ— He markes the Iewrie and their leader And obserues the lying Pleader He notes the Councell what they doe And the Kings heart searcheth too HOw hatefull is this silence I haue stood Wishing expecting musing long who wou'd With honest thrift this faire aduantage take To fame himselfe for euer and to make This sencelesse age conceiue perhaps commend The good we now enioy not apprehend Time was Kings words were like to apples snatch'd From t' Hesperâ—des so obsâ—ru'dâ— so watch'de None â—â—ffer'd to drop downe all highly prizde Preserâ—ed recorded apothegmatizde But now their words though Orâ—cleâ— to those Of former times though verse vnto their prose Are slighted by this lip-wise age of ours Whose rootles knowledge bears no fruits but flow'rs Where is the Man whose better fate admits Him place time meanes to heare the King of wits Discourse like Salomon of euery thing Begot betwixt the winter and the spring Determine euery doubt that doth arise Twixt heauen and earth the â—diot and the wise That doth for priuate vse or publike good Make knowne how Sabâ—-like he vnderstood And did not like the pictures waite for show To fill place only but to learne to know This man is yet no Courtier or at least No daily waiter scarce sâ—â—ne at a feast Too poore and plaine to trauaile and bring backe The â—ongue and heart of treason he doth lacke A face t' outface his wants and doth bewrâ—y His ignorance in euery arrogant way He meanes good faith and speakes it though the lip Of censuring law his state and body stript Of coyne and eares and freedome it 's no crime To speake truth he thinks though 't be out of time He is no chamber Traytor from hell sent To vâ—dermine the Soules high Parliament He cannot candy poyson wants the waies To tickle truth to death with her owne praise He dares not weare a desperatâ— suite t' vndoe Himselfe a Mercer and a Taylor too And then make that the preface how to aske Towards his vnknowne losse in the last maske But such as can those Court-lie Mysteries Want time for this Themselues are histories Not easely learn'd t' will aske a perfect Man To read them daily o're do what he can And ere he learns by heart each attribute Appropriate to the body and the suite Himselfe growes old or a new-fashion springs Which shifts the Scene the forme and face of things Thus silk-worms spend their times schollers too Haue idle worke enough to turne them to Perhaps a paire of feete and a tongue stroue Who should walke fastest and most countries roue In fewest howers to smallest purpose these At length returne their trauailes finisht please To publish their fond Iournall But alasse Neither themselues nor their huge worke can passe Our presse vnpraisde O Courtiers thither hie Gallants Wits Poets Let your Muses flie Not to reforme or settle this light braine But render him more wilde Your selues shall gaine Much wonder by 't extol'd shall be your skill For writing well in ieast in â—â—rnest ill Or if not this some other witty taske Staies your continuall leisures and doth aske Inke from your pens t'asperge deforme defile States and their instruments with libells vile No man must liue without your fawning praise Nor no man die without your rounddelaies Death maks you sport stroks which force the State Stagger and reele your humors eleuate Vice liuing is preferd to Vertue dead The present no time els is honored If you attend on Kings it 's to obserue Their imperfections where their frailties swerue In rash attempts or passionate words vnstaid From iuster rules their intemperate bloods once laide As if Kings were not men weake fraile and poore Like to their Subiects and subiected more As if at Rome whether you send this newes All there were Saints your Popes Court no stewesâ— As if that you a Patent had from Hell All things to say or doe but nothing well O! if you yet retaine a graine of that Which your high aimes would seeme to leuell at Or if no faith but that you Atheists be And nothing but vnhallow'd Reason see If but a sparke of that remaine intire Which you seeme to monopolize the fire Prometheus filch'd from louâ— let that bright flame Kindle your zeales for selfe kings countries fame To vse those opportunities parts plâ—ces Intelligences meanes friends fortunes graces You haue ' boue other for the publique good That we may vnderstand you vnderstood Learne Saba like to heare obserue report The good our Salomon speakes doth at Court Not Shemei like to slander curse deride Religions Nurse Arts glory vertues pride Bnt you contemne my admonition Goe Feed â—at for hell the place you coâ—et so And let my humble Muse applaud admire And celebrate heâ—uens grant to our desire Tell what thou seest and feel'st Ingratitude Receiues craues swallowes a whole multitude Of gifts and graces without thanks or cense And with dul silence beats heauens blessings henceâ— It is Dâ—traction to conceale due praise When good related might more goodnesse raise It is not flattery to report truth well True glasses both our faults and fauours tell Here then receiue this one worke royall â—ames Which now reflects vpon thee and more fames This Church and â—ingdom then thy birth crown pen Or â—hat else makes thee the good King of men I sing thy Iustice whose cleere raies giues light To neighbour Princes in this ignorant night Of mistie error and corrupt Respect How to informe aright their intellect And hauing here on earth mongst Christian Kings And Pagans shone it mounts the winds swift wings Calming the sea bounding her ebs and tides And in her monthly change the moist Moone guidesâ— Then sores vp higher and informes the Sunne How mongst the signes in an euen line to run How to make daies and nights and higher yet Mounts till it be in the first Mouer set Two warlike kingdomes linck't in happy peace When they beheld how common fewdes did â—â—ase And saw how strongly blest that concord stands Where brethren ioyne first hearts and after hands Resolu'd that course turn'd matches into Maskes And reuelling tissues wore for massier Caskes Steeds traind for ready fight learnd now to peace And knew no foes but Buckes and Hares nor race But on smooth plaines for wagers or for sport Not for lou'd life where Campes lay lay the Court. Keene swords that bit the bone abated now Kist without making skars or help'd the plow To draw long furrowes on the fruitfull earth Least Peace should breeding teeth too fast breed dearth Blunt foiles were on sharpe pointed Rapiers set And so Lord Sanquier and poore Turner met They met to play there Sanquâ—er lost an eie O Brittaine canst thou nothing further spie In this then his losse Looke vp now and see Securitie hath ta'ne an eye from thee Ill didst thou ward that blow