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Sign'd kings' blank-charters to kill whom they (The thing hath travail'd, and, faith, speaks all hate,

Now are they vicars, but hangmen, to Fate.
Fool and wretch! wilt thou let thy foul be ty'd
To man's laws, by which fhe fhall not be try'd
At the last day? or will it then boot thee
To fay a Philip or a Gregory,

A Harry or a Martin, taught me this?
Is not this excufe for mere contraries
Equally strong? cannot both fides fay fo:

That thou may'ft rightly obey power, her bounds know;

Those past her nature and name's chang'd; to be
Then humble to her is idolatry.

As ftreams are, power is: thofe bleft flowers that
dwell
[well;
At the rough ftream's calm head thrive and do
But having left their roots, and themselves given
To the ftream's tyrannous rage, alas! are driven
Through mills, rocks,and woods, and at last, almoft
Confum'd in going, in the fea are loft:

So perish fouls which more choose men's unjust Power, from God claim'd, than God himself to truft.

SATIRE IV.

WELL; I may now receive and die. My fin
Indeed is great, but yet I have been in
A purgatory, fuch as fear'd hell is
A recreation, and feant map of this.

My mind neither with pride's itch, nor yet hath

been

Poifon'd with love to fee or to be seen.
I had no fuit there, nor new fuit to fhew,
Yet went to court: but as Glare, which did go
To mass in jeft, catch'd, was fain to disburse
The hundred marks, which is the ftatute's curse,
Before he 'fcap'd; fo 't pleas'd my Destiny
(Guilty of my fin of going) to think me
As prone to all ill, and of good as forget-
Ful, as proud, luftful, and as much in debt,
As vain, as witlefs, and as falfe as they
Which dwell in court, for once going that way,
Therefore I fuffer'd this: Towards me did run
A thing more strange than on Nile's flime the fun
E'er bred, or all which into Noah's ark came;
A thing which would have pos'd Adam to name :
Stranger than seven antiquaries' studies,
Than Afric's monfters, Guiana's rarities;
Stranger than ftrangers; one who for a Dane
In the Danes' maffacre had fure been flain,
If he had liv'd then, and without help dies
When next the 'prentices 'gainst ftrangers rife;
One whom the watch at noon lets fcarce go by;
One t' whom th' examining juflice fure would cry,
Sir, by your priesthood, tell me what you are.
His clothes were strange, though coarfe, and black,
though bare;

Slevelefs his jerkin was, and it had been
Velvet, but 't was now (fo much ground was feen)
Become tufftaffaty; and our children shall
See it plain rafh a while, then nought at all.

tongues,

And only knoweth what t' all states belongs.
Made of th' accents and best phrafe of all these,
He speaks one language. If ftrange meats displease,
Art can deceive, or hunger force my tafte;
But pedant's motley tongue, foldier's bombaft,
Mountebank's drug-tongue, nor the terms of law,
Are strong enough preparatives to draw
Me to hear this, yet I must be content
With his tongue, in his tongue call'd Compliment;
In which he can win widows, and pay scores,
Make men fpeak treason, cozen subtlest whores,
Outflatter favourites, or outlie either
Jovius or Surius, or both together.
He names me, and comes to me; I whisper, God!
How have I finn'd, that thy wrath's furious rod,
This fellow, chooseth me? He faith, Sir,
I love your judgment; whom do you prefer
For the beft linguift? and I fillily
Said, that I thought Calepine's Dictionary.
Nay, but of men? Most sweet Sir! Beza, then
Some Jesuits, and two reverend men
Of our two academies, I nam'd. Here
He ftopt me, and faid; Nay, your apostles were
Good pretty linguifts; fo Panurgus was,
Yet a poor gentleman; all these may pafs
By travel. Then, as if he would have fold
His tongue, he prais'd it, and fuch wonders told,
That I was fain to fay, If you had liv'd, Sir,
Time enough to have been interpreter
To Babel's bricklayers, fure the tower had ftood.
He adds, If of court-life you knew the good,
You would leave lonencfs. I faid, Not alone
My loneness is, but Spartan's fashion,
To teach by painting drunkards, doth not la
Now; Aretine's pictures have made few chaste;
No more can princes' courts, though there be few
Better pictures of vice, teach me virtue.
He, like to a high-stretch'd lute-string, squeakt,
O, Sir!

'Tis fweet to talk of kings! At Westminster,
Said I, the man that keeps the Abbey-tombs,
And for his price doth, with who ever comes,
Of all our Harrys and our Edwards talk,
From king to king, and all their kin can walk :
Your ears fhall hear nought but kings; your eyes

meet

Kings only; the way to it is King's-street.
He fmack'd, and cry'd, He's base, mechanic coarse;
So're all your Englishmen in their discourse.
Are not your Frenchmen neat? Mine, eyes you fee,
I have but one, Sir; look, he follows me.
Certes, they're neatly cloth'd. I of this mind am,
Your only wearing is your grogaram.
Not fo, Sir; I have more. Under this pitch
He would not fly. I chaf'd him; but as itch
Scratch'd into fmart, and as blunt iron ground
Into an edge, hurts worse; fo I (fool!) found
Croffing hurt me. To fit my fullennefs,
He to another key his ftyle doth dress,
And afks, What news? I tell him of new plays:
He takes my hand, and, as a still which stays
A femibrief 'twixt each drop, he niggardly
As loth to enrich me, fo tells many a lie,

More than ten Hollenheads, or Halls, or Stows, Of trivial household trash he knows. He knows When the queen frown'd or fmil'd; and he knows what

A fubtile statesman may gather of that:

He knows who loves whom, and who by poison
Haftes to an office's reverfion;

He knows who 'hath fold his land, and now doth beg

A licenfe old iron, boots, shoes, and egg-
Shells to transport. Shortly boys fhall not play
At fpan-counter, or blow-point, but shall pay
Toll to fome courtier; and, wifer than all us,
He knows what lady is not painted. Thus

He with home-meats cloys me. I belch, spue, fpit,
Look pale and fickly, like a patient, yet
He thrufts on more; and as he 'had undertook
To fay Gallo-Belgicus without book,
Speaks of all states and deeds that have been fince
The Spaniards came to th' lofs of Amyens.
Like a big wife, at fight of lothed meat,
Ready to travel, fo I figh and fweat
To hear this makaron talk in vain; for yet,
Either my humour or his own to fit,
He, like a privileg'd fpy, whom nothing can
Difcredit, libels now 'gainst each great man:
He names a price for every office paid:
He faith, Our wars thrive ill, because delay'd;
That offices are entail'd, and that there are
Perpetuities of them lafting as far
At the last day; and that great officers
Do with the pirates fhare and Dunkirkers.
Who waftes in meat, in clothes, in horse, he notes;
Who loves whores, who boys, and who goats.
I, more amaz'd than Circe's prisoners, when
They felt themfelves turn beafts, felt myself then
Becoming traitor, and methought I faw
One of our giant ftatues ope his jaw
To fuck me in for hearing him: I found
That as burnt venomous leachers do grow found
By giving others their fores, I might grow
Guilty, and be free: therefore I did fhow
All figns of loathing; but fince I am in,
I must pay mine and my forefathers' fin
To the last farthing: therefore to my power
Toughly and ftubbornly I bear this crofs; but th'

hour

Of mercy now was come: he tries to bring
Me to pay a fine to 'fcape his torturing,
And fays, Sir, can you spare me? I faid, Willingly.
Nay, Sir, can you fpare me a crown? Thankfully I
Gave it as raufom. But as fiddlers ftill,
Though they be paid to be gone, yet needs will
Thrust one more jigg upon you; so did he
With his long complimented thanks vex me.
But he is gone, thanks to his needy want,
And the prerogative of my crown. Scant
His thanks were ended when I (which did fee
All the court fill'd with such strange things as he)
Ran from thence with fuch or more hafte than one
Who fears more actions doth hafte from prison.
At home in wholefome folitarinefs
My piteous foul began the wretchedness
Of fuiters at court to mourn, and a trance
Like his who dreamt he saw hell did advance

Itfelf o'er me: fuch men as he faw there

I saw at court, and worse, and more. Low fear
Becomes the guilty, not th' accufer; then
Shall I, none's flave, of high born or rais'd men
Fear frowns, and my miftrefs, Truth! betray the
To th' huffing, braggart, puft nobility?

No, no; thou which fince yesterday hast been
Almost about the whole world, haft thou feen,
O Sun! in all thy journey vanity

Such as fwells the bladder of our court? I
Think he which made your waxen garden, and
Transported it from Italy, to stand

With us at London, flouts our courtiers; for
Juft fuch gay painted things, which no fap nor
Tafte have in them, our's are; and natural
Some of the stocks are, their fruits bastard all.
'I'is ten o'clock, and past; all whom the Meufe,
Baloun, tennis, diet, or the ftews

Had all the morning held, now the fecond
Time made ready, that day in flocks are found
In the prefence, and I, (God pardon me!)
As fresh and sweet their apparels be, as be
The fields they fold to buy them. For a king
Thofe hofe are, cries the flatterer; and bring
Them next week to the theatre to fell.

Wants reach all states. Me feems they do as well
At ftage as court. All are prayers; whoe'er look
(For themfelves dare not go) o'er Cheapfide book:
Shall find their wardrobe's inventory. Now

The lady's come. As pirates, which do know
That there came weak fhips fraught with CO

cheneal,

The men board them, and praife (as they think) wel Their beauties; they the men's wits: both ar

bought.

Why good wits ne'er wear fcarlet gowns I though
This caufe: thefe men men's wits for fpeeches buy
And women buy all reds which fearlets dye.
He call'd her beauty lime-twigs, her hair net =
She fears her drugs ill laid, her hair loose fet.
Would n't Heraclitus laugh to fee Macrine
From hat to fhoe himfelf at door refine,
As if the prefence were a Mofchite; and lift
His fkirts and hofe, and call his clothes to fhrift,
Making them confefs not only mortal
Great flains and holes in them, but venial
Feathers and duft, wherewith they fornicate?
And then by Durer's rules furvey the state
Of his each limb, and with ftrings the odds tries
Of his neck to his leg, and waste to thighs.
So in immaculate clothes and fymmetry
Perfect as circles, with fuch nicety
As a young preacher at his first time goes
To preach, he enters, and a lady, which owes
Him not fo much as good-will, he arrels,
And unto her protefts, protefts, protests;

So much as at Rome would ferve to 'have thrown
Ten cardinals into the Inquifition,
And whispers by Jesu so oft', that a
Purfuivant would have ravifh'd him away

For faying of our Lady's pfalter. But 'tis fit
That they each other plague; they merit it.

But here comes Glorius, that will plague them both,

Who in the other extreme only doth

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Call a rough carelessness good fashion;
Whole cloak his fpurs tear, or whom he fpits on,
He cares not, he. His ill words do no harm
To him; he rushes in, as if Arm, Arm,
He meant to cry; and though his face be as ill
As theirs which in old hangings whip Chrift, ftill
He drives to look worfe; he keeps all in awe,
Jefs like a licens'd fool, commands like law.
Tir'd, now; I leave this place, and but pleas'd fo
As men from gaols to execution go;

Go through the Great Chamber (why is it hung
With the feven deadly fins?) being among
Thole Afkaparts, men big enough to throw
Charing-crols, for a bar, men that do know
No token of worth but queen's man and fine
Living, barrels of beef and flagons of wine,
1 fhook like a spy'd fpy. Preachers! which are
Seas of wit and arts, you can, then dare
Drown the fins of this place; for, for me,
Which am but a scant brook, it enough fhall be
To wash the stains away; although I yet
(With Maccabee' modefty) the known merit
Of my work leffen, yet fome wife men fhall,
1 hope, efteem my writs canonical.

SATIRE V.

Teos halt not laugh, in this leaf, Mufe! nor they
Whom any pity warnis. He which did lay
Buks to make courtiers, he being understood
May make good courtiers, but who courtiers good?
Frees from the fting of jefts all who in extreme
Are wretched or wicked; of these two a theme
Charity and Liberty give me. What is he
Who officers' rage and fuiters' mifery
Can write in jeft? If all things be in all,
As I think, fince all which were, are, and shall
Be, be made of the fame elements,
Lach thing, each thing implies or represents;
Then man is a world, in which officers
Are the vast ravishing feas, and fuiters
Springs, now full, now shallow, now dry, which to
That which drowns them run : thefe felf reafons do
Prove the world a man, in which officers
Are the devouring ftomach, and fuitors

Th' excrements which they void. All men are duft;
How much worse are fuitors, who no men's luft
Are made preys? O worse than duft or worms'
meat!

For they eat you now whofe felves worms fhall eat.
They are the mills which grind you; yet you are
The wind which drives them; and a waftful war
Is fought against you, and you fight it: they
Adulterate law, and you prepare the way,
Like wittals; th' iffue your own rain is.
Greatest and faireft Emprefs? know you this?
Alas! no more than Thames' calm head doth know
Whofe meads her arms drown, or whofe can o'er-
flow.

You, Sir, whofe righteoufnefs fhe loves, whom I,
By having leave to ferve, am most richly
For fervice paid authoriz'd, now begin
To know and weed out this enormous fin.

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Into' other hands. So controverted lands
'Scape, like Angelica, the firiver's hands.
If law in the judge's heart, and he
Have no heart to refift letter or fee,

Where wilt thou appeal? power of the courts below

Flows from the first main head; and these can throw

Thee, if they fuck thee in, to mifery,

To fetters, halters. But if th' injury

Steel thee to dare complain, alas! thou go'ft Against the stream, upwards, when thou art moft Heavy and most faint; and in these labours they, 'Gainst whom thou shouldst complain, will in thy

way

Become great feas, o'er which, when thou fhalt be
Forc'd to make golden bridges, thou shalt fee
That all thy gold was drown'd in them before.
All things follow their like, only who have may
'have more.

Judges are gods; and he who made them fo
Meant not men should be forc'd to them to go
By means of angels. When fupplications
We send to God, to dominations,
Powers, cherubims, and all heaven's courts, if we
Should pay fees, as here, daily bread would be
Scarce to kings; fo't is. Would it not anger
A ftoic, a coward, yea, a martyr,

To fee a purfuivant come in, and call

All his clothes Copes, books Primers, and all
His plate Chalices; and mis-take them away,
And afk a fee for coming? Oh! ne'er may
Fair law's white rev'rend name be ftrumpeted,
To warrant thefts: fhe is established
Recorder to Destiny on earth, and the
Speaks Fate's words, and tells who must be
Rich, who poor, who in chairs, and who in gaols:
She is all fair, but yet hath foul long nails,
With which the fcratcheth fuitors. In bodies
Of men, fo in law, nails are extremities;
So officers fretch to more than law can do,
As our nails reach what no else part comes to.
Why bar'st thou to yon' officer? Fool, hath he
Got thofe goods for which erft men bar'd to thee?
Fool twice, thrice, thou haft bought wrong and

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SATIRE VI.

MEN write that love and reafon disagree,
But I ne'er faw't expreft as 't is in thee.
Well, I may lead thee, God must make thee fee;
But thine eyes blind too, there's no hope for thee.
Thou fay'st she's wife and witty, fair and free;
All these are reasons why the fhould fcorn thee.
Thou doft proteft thy love, and wouldst it shew
By matching her, as the would match her foe;"
And wouldft perfwade her to a worse offence
Than that whereof thou didst accuse her wench.
Reason there's none for thee, but thou may'st vex
Her with example. Say, for fear her sex
Shun her, the needs muft change: I do not fee
How reafon e'er can bring that must to thee.
Thou art a match a juftice to rejoice,
Fit to be his, and not his daughter's choice,
Dry'd with his threats the'd scarcely stay with
thee,

And wouldft th' have this to choose thee, being free?

Go, then, and punish fome foon gotten stuff;
For her dead husband this bath mourn'd enough

In hating thee. Thou may'ft one like this meet; For fpite take her, prove kind, make thy breath fweet :

Let her fee the 'hath cause, and to bring to thee
Honeft children, let her dishoncft be.

If the be a widow, I'll warrant her
She'll thee before her first husband prefer;
And will with thou hadst had her maidenhead,
(She'll love thee fo) for then thou hadst been dead.
But thou fuch ftrong love and weak reasons haft,
Thou must thrive there, or ever live disgrac'd.
Yet paufe a while, and thou may'st live to fee
A time to come wherein the may beg thee.
If thou'lt not pause nor change, she'll beg thee now,
Do what she can, love for nothing allow.
Besides, here were too much gain and merchandise,
And when thou art rewarded defert dies.
Now thou haft odds of him she loves; he may doubt
Her conftancy, but none can put thee out.
Again, be thy love true, fhe'll prove divine,
And in the end the good on't will be thine;
For though thou must ne'er think of other love,
And fo wilt advance her as high above
Virtue as cause above effect can be,
'Tis virtue to be chaßte, she'll make thee.

EPITHALAMIONS:

OR,

MARRIAGE SONGS.

AN EPITHALAMION

O FREDERICK COUNT PALATINE of the Rhine, and LADY ELIZABETH, being married on St. Valentine's Day.

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Till now thou warm'dft with multiplying loves Two larks, two fparrows, or two doyes;

All that is nothing unto this,

Fer thon this day coupleft two phoenixes.
Thou mak'ta taper fee

What the fun never faw, and what the ark
(Which was of fowl and beafts the cage and park)
Did not contain; one bed contains through thee
Two phanixes, whofe joined breasts

Are unto one another mutual nefts;

Where motion kindles fuch fires as fhall give
Young phanizes, and yet the old fhall live;
We love and courage never shall decline,
But make the whole year through thy day,

Valentine!

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O

Tak'ft warmth enough, and from thine eye
All leffer birds will take their jollity.

Up, up, fair Bride! and call

Thy ftars from out their several boxes; take

Thy rubies, pearls, and diamonds, rth, and make Thyfelf a conftellation of them all;

And by their blazing fignify

That a great princefs falls, but doth not die:
Be thou a new ftar, that to us portends

Ends of much wonder, and be thou those ends.
Since thou doft this day in new glory fhine,
May all men date records from this day, Va-
lentine!

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Meeting another grows the same,
So meet thy Frederick, and fo
To an unfeparable union go;
Since feparation

Falls not on fuch things as are infinite,

Nor things which are but once an difunite;
You're twice infeparable, great, and one.
Go then to where the Bishop ftays

To make you one; his way, which divers ways
Must be effected; and when all is past,

And that y' are one, by hearts and hands made fast,

You two have one way left yourselves t' entwine, Befides this Bishop's knot of Bishop Valentine.

v.

But, oh! what ails the fun, that hence he stays Longer to-day than other days?

Stays he now light from th f to get?

And finding here fuch stars is loth to fet

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