The poeticall essayes of Sam. Danyel

MVSOPHILVS. CONTAINING A generall defence of all learning.

PHILOCOSMVS.

Fond man Musophilus, that thus dost spend In an vngainefull arte thy deerest daies, Tyring thy wits and toiling to no end, But to attaine that idle smoake of praise; Now when this busie world cannot attend Th'vntimely musicke of neglected layes. Other delights then these, other desires This wiser profit-seeking age requires.

Musophilus.

Friend Philocosmus, Iconfesse indeed, I loue this sacred arte thou sett'st so light,

And though it neuer stand my life in steed, It is inough, it giues my selfe delight, The whiles my vnafflicted minde doth feed On no vnholy thoughts for benefit. Be it that my vnseasonable song Come out of time, that fault is in the time, And I must not do vertue so much wrong As loue her ought the worse for others crime; And yet I find some blessed spirits among, That cherish me, and like and grace my rime. Againe that I do more in soule esteeme Then al the gain of dust, the world doth craue; And if I may attaine but to redeeme My name from dissolution and the graue, I shall haue done enough, and better deeme T'haue liu'd to be, then to haue dyde to haue. Short-breath'd mortalitie would yet extend That span of life so far forth as it may, And rob her fate, seeke to beguile her end Of some few lingring daies of after staie, That all this little All, might not descend Into the darke a vniuersall pray. And giue our labors yet this poore delight, That whē our daies do end they are not done; And though we die we shall not perish quite, But liue two liues where other haue but one.

Philocosmus,

Sillie desires of selfe-abusing man, Striuing to gaine th'inheritance of ayre That hauing done the vttermost he can Leaues yet perhaps but beggerie to his heir; Al that great purchase of the breath he wan, Feeds not his race, or makes his house more faire. And what art thou the better thus to leaue A multitude of words to small effect, Which other times may scorn and so deceiue Thy promis'd name of what thou dost expect, Besides some viperous Creticke may bereaue Th' opinion of thy worth for some defect, And get more reputation of his wit By but controlling of some word or sence, Then thou shalt honor for contriuing it, With all thy trauell, care and diligence; Being learning now enough to contradict And censure others with bold insolence. Besides so many so confusedlie sing, Whose diuers discords haue the musick mar'd, And in contempt that mysterie doth bring, That he must sing alowd that will be heard; And the receiu'd opinion of the thing, For some vnhallowed strings that vildly iar'd,

Hath so vnseason'd' now the eares of men, That who doth touch the tenor of that vaine Is held but vaine, and his vnreck'ned pen The title but of leuitie doth gaine. A poore light gaine to recompence their toile, That thought to get eternitie the while. And therefore leaue the left & out-worne course Of vnregarded wayes, and labour how To fit the times with what is most in force, Be new with mens affections that are new; Striue not to run an idle counter-course Out from the sent of humours, men allow. For not discreetly to compose our parts Vnto the frame of men (which we must be) Is to put off our selues, and make our artes Rebles to Nature and societie, Whereby we come to burie our desarts, In th' obscure graue of singularitie.

Musophiliss.

Do not profane the worke of doing well, Seduced man, that canst not looke so hie From out that mist of earth as thou canst tell The wayes of right, which vertue doth descrie, That ouer-lookes the base, contemptiblie, And low-laid follies of mortalitie:

Nor meate out truth and right-deseruing prayse, By that wrong measure of confusion The vulgar foote: that neuer takes his wayes By reason, but by imitation; Rowling on with the rest, and neuer way's The course which he should go, but what is gone. Well were it with mankind, if what the most Did like were best, but ignorance will liue By others square, as by example lost; And man to man must th' hand of errour giue That none can fall alone at their owne cost, And all because mē iudge not, but beleeue. For what poore bounds haue they whom but th' earth boūds, What is their end whereto their care attaines, When the thing got relieues not, but cōfounds Hauing but trauaile to succeed their paines? What ioy hath he of liuing that propounds Affliction but his end, and griefe his gaines? Gath'ring, incroching, wresting, ioining to, Destroying, building, decking, furnishing, Repairing, altring, and so much a do To his soules toile, and bodies trauailing: And all this doth he little knowing who Fortune ordaines to haue th'inheriting. And his faire house rais'd hie in enuies eie, Whose pillars rear'd perhaps on blood & wrong

The spoyles and pillage of iniquitie. Who can assure it to continue long? If rage spar'd not the walls of pietie, Shal the profanest piles of sinne keepe strong? How manie proude aspiring pallaces Haue we known made the pray of wrath and pride, Leuell'd with th'earth, left to forgetfulnes, Whilest titlers their pretended rights decide, Or ciuill tumults, or an orderles Order pretending change of some strong side? Then where is that proude title of thy name, Written in yee of melting vanitie? Where is thine heire left to possesse the same? Perhaps not so well as in beggerie. Some thing may rise to be beyond the shame Of vile and vnregarded pouertie. Which, I confesse, although I often striue To cloth in the best habit of my skill, In all the fairest colours I can giue; Yet for all that me thinks she lookes but ill, I cannot brooke that face, which dead-aliue Shewes a quicke bodie, but a buried will. Yet oft we fee the barres of this restraint Holds goodnes in, which loose wealth would let flie, And fruitlesse riches barrayner then want, Brings forth small worth from idle libertie?

Which when disorders shal againe make scant, It must resetch her state from pouertie. But yet in all this interchange of all, Virtue we see, with her faire grace, stands a fast; For what hy races hath there come to fall, With low disgrace, quite vanished and past, Since Chaucer liu'd who yet liues and yet shall, Though (which I grieue to say) but in his last Yet what a time hath he wrested from time, And won vpon the mighty waste of daies, Vnto th' immortall honor of our clime, That by his meanes came first adorn'd with Baies, Vnto the sacred Relicks of whose rime We yet are bound in zeale to offer praise? And could our lines begotten in this age Obtaine but such a blessed hand of yeeres, And scape the sury of that threatning rage, Which in confused clowdes gastly appeares, Who would not straine his trauailes to ingage, Whē such true glory should succeed his cares? But whereas he came planted in the spring, And had the Sun, before him, of respect; We set in th' Autumne, in the withering, And sullen season of a cold defect, Must taste those foure distastes the times do bring, Vpon the fulnesse of a cloid neglect,

Although the stronger constitutions shall Weare out th' infection of distempred daies, And come with glory to out-liue this fall, Recouring of another spring of praise, Cleer'd from th' oppressing humors, wherewithall The idle multitude surcharge their laies. VVhen as perhaps the words thou scornest now May liue, the speaking picture of the mind, The extract of the soule that laboured how To leaue the image of her selfe behind, VVherein posteritie that loue to know The iust proportion of our spirits may find. For these lines are the vaines, the Arteries, And vndecaying life-strings of those harts That still shall pant, and still shall exercise The motion spirit and nature both imparts, And shall, with those aliue so sympathize As nourisht with their powers inioy their parts. O blessed letters that combine in one All ages past, and make one liue with all, By you we do confer with who are gone, And the dead liuing vnto councell call: By you th' vnborne shall haue communion Of what we feele, and what doth vs befall. Soule of the world, knowledge, without thee, VVhat hath the earth that truly glorious is?

Why should our pride make such a stir to be, To be forgot? what good is like to this, To do worthy the writing, and to write Worthy the reading, and the worlds delight? And let th' vnnaturall and waiward race Borne of one wombe with vs, but to our shame That neuer read t' obserue but to disgrace, Raise all the tempest of their powre to blame; That puffe of follie neuer can deface, The worke a happy Genius tooke to frame. Yet why should ciuill learning seeke to wound And mangle her own members with despight? Prodigious wits that study to confound The life of wit, to seeme to know aright, As if themselues had fortunately found Some stand frō of the earth beyond our sight, Whence ouerlooking all as from aboue, Their grace is not to worke, but to reproue. But how came they plac'd in so high degree Aboue the reach and compasse of the rest? VVho hath admitted them onely to be Free-denizons of skill, to iudge the best? From whom the world as yet could neuer see The warrant of their wit soundly exprest. T'acquaint our times with that perfection Of high conceipt, which only they possesse,

That we might haue things exquisitely done Measur'd with all their strict obseruances: Such would (I know) skorne a translation, Or bring but others labors to the presse; Yet oft these monster-breeding mountains wil Bring forth small Mice of great expected skill. Presumption euer fullest of defects, Failes in the doing to performe her part; And I haue known proud words and poore effects, Of such indeed as do condemne this Arte: But let them rest, it euer hath beene knowne, They others vertues skorn, that doubt their owne: And for the diuers disagreeing cordes, Of interiangling ignorance that fill The dainty eares, & leaue no roome for words, The worthier mindes neglect, or pardon will; Knowing the best he hath, he frankly foords And skornes to be a niggard of his skill. And that the rather since this short-liu'd race, Being fatallie the sonnes but of one day, That now with all their powre ply it apace, To hold out with the greatest might they may Against confusion that hath all in chace, To make of all a vniuersall pray. For now great Nature hath laid down at last That mighty birth, where with so long she went

And ouerwent the times of ages past, Here to lie in, vpon our soft content, Where fruitfull she, hath multiplied so fast, That all she hath on these times, seem'd t'haue spent. All that which might haue many ages grac'd, Is borne in one, to make one cloid with all; Where plenty hath imprest a deepe distast, Of best and worst, and all ingenerall: That goodness seems, goodnes to haue defac't, And virtue hath to virtue giuen the fall. For emulation, that proud nurse of wit, Skorning to stay below or come behind, Labors vpon that narrow top to sit Offole perfection in the highest kind; Enuie and wonder looking after it, Thrust likewise on the selfe same blisse to find: And so long striuing till they can no more, Do stuffe the place or others hopes shut out, Who doubting to ouertake those gone before Giue vp their care, and cast no more about; And so in skorne leaue all as fore possest, And will be none where they may not be best. Euen like some empty Greek that long hath lain, Left or neglected of the Riuer by, Whose searching sides pleas'd with a wandring, vaine, Finding some little way that close did lie,

Steale in at first, then other streames againe Second the first, then more then all supplie, Till all the mighty maine hath borne at last The glory of his chiefest powre that way, Plying this new-found pleasant roome so fast Till all be full, and all be at a staie; And then about, and backe againe doth cast, Leauing that full to fall another way: So feares this humorous world, that euermore Rapt with the Current of a present course, Runs into that which laie contemnd before; Then glutted leaues the same, and falst'a worse: Now zeale holds all, no life but to adore; Then cold in spirit, and faith is of no force. Straight all that holie was vnhallowed lies, The scattered carcasses of ruind vowes: Then truth is false, and now hath blindnes eies, Then zeale trusts al, now scarcely what it knows: That euermore to foolish or to wise, It fatall is to be seduc'd with showes. Sacred Religion, mother offorme and feare, How gorgeously somtimes dost thou sit deckt? What pompous vestures do we make thee weare? What stately piles we prodigall erect? How sweet perfum'd thou art, how shining cleare? How solemnly obseru'd, with what respect?

Another time all plaine, and quite threed bare, Thou must haue all within and nought without, Sit poorely without light, disrob'd, no care Of outward grace, to amuze the poore deuout, Powrelesse vnfollowed, scarcely men can spare Thee necessary rites to set thee out. Either truth, goodnes, vertue are not still The selfe same which they are, and alwaies one, But alter to the proiect of our will, Or we our actions make them waite vpon Putting them in the liuery of our skill, And cast them off againe when we haue done. You mighty Lords, that with respected grace Do at the sterne of faire example stand, And all the body of this populace Guide with the onely turning of your hand, Keepe a right course, bear vp from al disgrace, Obserue the point of glory to our land: Hold vp disgraced knowledge from the ground, Keepe vertue in request, giue worth her due, Let not neglect with barbarous means cōfound So faire a good to bring in night anew. Be not, ô be not accessary found Vnto her death that must giue life to you: Where wil you haue your vertuous names safe laid, In gorgeous tombes, in sacred Cels secure?

Do you not see those prostrate heapes betraid Your fathers bones, and could not keepe them sure? And will you trust deceitfull stones faire laid: And thinke they will be to your honor truer? No, no, vnsparing time will proudly send A warrant vnto wrath that with one frown Wil al these mock'ries of vaine glory rend, And make them as before, vngrac'd, vnknown, Poore idle honors that can ill defend Your memories, that cannot keepe their own. And whereto serue that wondrous trophei now, That on the godly plaine neare Wilton stands? That huge domb heap, that cannot tel vs how, Nor what, nor whence it is, nor with whose hands, Nor for whose glory, it was set to shew How much our pride mockes that of other lands? Where on when as the gazing passenger Hath greedy lookt with admiration, And faine would know his birth, and what he were, How there erected, and how long agone: Enquires and askes his fellow trauailer What he hath heard and his opinion: And he knowes nothing. Then he turnes againe And looks and sighs, and then admires afr esh, And in himselfe with sorrow doth complaine The misery of darke for getfuln esse;

Angrie with time that nothing should remain, Our greatest wonders, wonder to expresse. Then ignorance with fabulous discourse Robbing faire arte and cunning of their right, Tels how those stones were by the diuels force From Affricke brought to Ireland in a night, And thence to Britannie by Magicke course, From giants hand redeem'd by Merlins sleight. And then neare Ambri plac'd in memorie Of all those noble Britons murthred there By Hengist and his Saxon trecherie, Comming to parle in peace at vnaware. With this old Legend then credulitie Holdes her content, and closes vp her care: But is antiquitie so great a liar, Or, do her yonger sonnes her age abuse, Seeing after commers still so apt t'admire The graue authoritie that she doth vse, That reuerence and respect dares not require Proofe of her deeds, or once her words refuse? Yet wrong they did vs to presume so far Vpon our easie credit and delight: For once found false they straight became to mar Our faith, and their owne reputation quite: That now her truths hardly beleeued are, And though sh'auouch ȳ right, she scarce hath right.

And as for thee, thou huge and mightie frame That stands corrupted so with times despight, And giu'st false euidence against their fame That set thee there to testifie their right: And art become a traitor to their name That trusted thee with all the best they might; Thou shalt stand still belide and slandered, The onely gazing stocke of ignorance, And by the guile the wife admonished Shal neuer more desire such heapest' aduance, Nor trust their liuing glorie with the dead That cannot speak, but leaue their fame to chance; Considering in how small a roome do lie And yet lie safe, as fresh as if aliue All those great worthies of antiquitie, Which long foreliu'd thee, & shal long suruiue, Who stronger tombs found for eternitie, Then could the powres of al the earth cōtriue. Where they remaine these trifles to obraid Out of the reach of spoile, and way of rage, Though time with all his power of yeares hath laid Long batterie, back'd with vndermining age, Yet they make head onely with their own aide And war, with his all conquering forces, wage: Pleading the heauens prescription to be free And t'haue a grant t'indure as long as he.

Philocosmus.

Beholde how euery man drawne with delight Of what he doth, flatters him in his way; Striuing to make his course seeme onely right Doth his owne rest, and his owne thoughts betray; Imagination bringing brauely dight Her pleasing images in best aray, With flattering glasses that must shew him faire And others foule; his skill and his wit best, Others seduc'd, deceiu'd and wrong in their; His knowledge right, all ignorant the rest, Not seeing how these minions in the aire Present a face of things falsely exprest, And that y^e glimmering of these errors showne, Are but a light to let him see his owne. Alas poore Fame, in what a narrow roome As an incaged Parrot, art thou pent Here amongst vs; where euē as good be domb As speake, and to be heard with no attent? How can you promise of the time to come When as the present are so negligent? Is this the walke of all your wide renowne, This little point, this scarce discerned Ile, Thrust from y^e world, with whō our speech vnknown Made neuer any traffike of our stile.

And is this all where all this care is showne, T'inchant your fame to last so long a while? And for that happier tongues haue woon so much, Think you to make your barbarous language such Poore narrow limits for so mightie paines, That cannot promise any forraine vent: And yet if here to all your wondrous vaines Were generally knowne, it might content: But lo how many reads not, or disdaines The labors of the chiefe and excellent. How many thousands neuer heard the name Of Sydney, or of Spencer, or their bookes? And yet braue fellowes, and presume of fame And seem to beare downe all the world with lookes: What then shall they expect of meaner frame, On whose indeuours few or none scarse looks? Do you not see these Pamphlets, Libels, Rymes, These strange confused tumults of the minde, Are growne to be the sicknes of these times, The great disease inflicted on mankind? Your vertues, by your follies, made your crimes, Haue issue with your indiscretion ioin'd Schooles, arts, professions, all in so great store, Passe the proportion of the present state, Where being as great a number as before, And fewer roomes them to accommodate;

It cannot be but they must throng the more, And kicke, and thrust, and shoulder with debate. For when the greater wittes cannot attaine Th'expected good, which they account their right, And yet perceiue others to reape that gaine Of far inferiour vertues in their sight; They present with the sharpe of Enuie straine To wound them with reproches and despight: And for these, cannot haue as well as they They scorne their faith should daigne to looke that way. Hence discontented Sects, and Schismes arise, Hence interwounding controuersies spring, That feed the simple, and offend the wife, Who know the consequence of cauilling: Disgrace that these to others do deuise, Contempt and scorne on all in th'end doth bring Like scolding wiues reckning each others fault Make standers by imagin both are naught. For when to these rare dainties time admits, All commers, all Complexions, all that will, Where none should be let in, but choisest wits, Whose milde discretion could comport with skill, For when the place their humor neither fits, Nor they the place: who can expect but ill? For being vnapt for what they tooke in hand, And for ought else where to they shalb'addrest

They euen become th'incombrance of the land As out of ranke disordring all the rest: This grace of theirs to seeme to vnderstand, Marres all their grace to do, without their rest. Men find that action is another thing Then what they in discoursing papers reade, The worlds affaires require in managing More arts then those wherein you Clearks proceed, Whilst timorous knowledge stands considering, Audacious ignorance hath done the deed. For who knowes most, the more he knows to doubt The least discourse is commonly most stout. This sweet in chaunting knowledge turnes you cleene Out from the fields of natur all delight, And makes you hide vnwilling to be seene In th'open concourse of a publike sight: This skill where with you haue so cunning beene, Vnsinewes all your powres, vnmans you quite. Publike societie and commerce of men Require another grace, another port: This eloquence, these rymes, these phrases then Begot in shades, do serue vs in no sort, Th'vnmateriall swellings of your pen Touch not the spirit that action doth import: A manly stile fitted to manlie eares Best grees with wit, not that which goes so gay,

And commonly the gaudie liu'rie weares Of nice corruptions which the times do sway, And waites on th'humor of his pulse that beares His passions set to such a pleasing kay; Such dainties serue onely for stomacks weake, For men do fowlest when they finest speake. Yet do I not dislike that in some wise Be sung the great heroycall deserts Of braue renowned spirits, whose exercise Of worthy deedes may call vp others hearts, And serue a modell for posterities To fashion them fit for like glorious parts: But so that all our spirits may tend hereto To make it not our grace, to say, but do.

Musophilus.

Much thouhast said, and willingly I heare, As one that am not so possest with loue Of what I do, but that I rather beare An eare to learne, then a toong to disproue: I know men must as caried in their spheare According to their proper motions moue. And that course likes them best which they are on, Yet truth hath certaine bounds, but falshood none. I do confesse our limits are but small Compar'd with all the whole vaste earth beside,

All which againe rated to that great All, Is likewise as a point scarcelie discride; So that in these respects we may this call A point but of a point where we abide. But if we shall descend from that high stand Of ouer-looking Contemplation, And cast our thoughts but to, and not beyond This spatious circuit which we tread vpon, We then may estimate our mightie land A world within a world standing alone. Where if our fame confind cannot get out, What shall we then imagine it is pen'd That hath so great a world to walke about, Whose boūds with her reports haue both one end: Why shall we not rather esteeme her stout That farther then her owne scorne to extend? Where being so large a roome both to do well And eke to heare th' applause of things well done, That farther if men shall our vertues tell We haue more mouthes, but not more merit won, It doth not greater make that which is laudable, The flame is bigger blowne, the fire all one. And for the few that onely lend their care, That few is all the world, which with a few Doth euer liue, and moue, and worke and stirre, This is the heart doth feele, and onely know.

The rest of all, that onely bodies beare Rowle vp and downe, and fill but vp the row: And serue as others members not their own, The instruments of those that do direct. Then what disgrace is this not to be known To those know not to giue themselues respect? And though they swel with pomp of folly blown, They liue vngrac'd, and die but in neglect. And for my part if onely one allow The care my labouring spirits take in this, He is to me a Theater large ynow, And his applause only sufficient is: All my respect is bent but to his brow, That is my all, and all I am is his. And if some worthy spirits be pleased to, It shall more comfort breed, but not more will; But what if none; it cannot yet vndo The loue I beare vnto this holy skill: This is the thing that I was borne to do, This is my Scene, this part must I fulfill. Let those that know not breath esteeme of wind, And set t'a vulgar ayre their seruile song, Rating their goodnesse by the praise they find, Making their worth on others firs belong, As vertue were the hyreling of the mind, And could not liue if fame had ne'r a tongue.

Hath that all-knowing powre that holdes within The goodly prospectiue of all this frame, (Where whatsoeuer is, or what hath bin, Reflects a certaine image of the same) No inward pleasures to delight her in, But she must gad to seeke an alines of fame? Must she like to a wanton Curtezan Open her breasts for shew, to win her praise, And blaze her faire bright beauty vnto man, As if she were enamourd of his waies? And knew not weakenes nor could rightly skan To what defects his humorous breath obaies. She that can tell how proud ambition Is but a begger, and hath nought at all But what is giuen of meere deuotion; For which how much it sweats, how much it's thrall? What toile it takes, and yet when all is done, The endes in expectation neuer fall. Shall she ioine hands with such a seruile mate, And prostrate her faire body to commit Folly with earth, and to defile that state Of cleerenes, for so grosse a benefit? Hauing reward dwelling within her gate, And glory of her own to furnish it. Her selfe a recompence sufficient Vnto her selfe, to giue her owne content.

Ist not in ought that she hath raisd so hie Those that be hers, that they may sit and see The earth below them, and this All to lie Vnder their view: taking the true degree Of the iust height of swolne mortalitie Right as it is, not as it seemes to be, And vndeceiued with the paralax Of a mistaking eie of passion, know By these mask'd outsides what the inward lacks Meas'ring man by himselfe not by his show, Wondring not at their rich and golden backs That haue poore minds, and little else to shew. Nor taking that for them, which well they see Is not of them, but rather is their lode: The lies of fortune, where withall men be Deemed within, when they be all abroad: Whose ground, whose grasse, whose earth haue cap & knee, Which they suppose, is on themselus bestow'd. And thinke like Isis Asse, all honors are Giuen vnto them alone, the which are done Vnto the painted I doll which they beare, That only makes them to be gezod on: For take away their pack and shew them bare, And see what beast this honor rides vpon. Hath knowledge lent to hers the priuy kay, To let them in vnto the hiest stage

Of causes, secrets, Councels; to suruay The wits of men, their heats, their colds, their rage, That build, destroy, praise, hate, say and gaine say; Beleeue, and vnbeleeue, all in one age. And shall we trust goodnesse as it proceedes From that vnconstant mouth; which with one breath Will make it bad againe, vnlesse it feedes The present humor that it fauoreth? Shall we esteeme and reckon how it heedes Our works, that his own vowes vnholloweth? Then whereto serues it to haue been inlarg'd With this free manumission of the mind, If for all that we still continue charg'd With those discouered errors, which we find? As if our knowledge only were discharg'd, Yet we our selues staid in a seruile kind. That virtue must be out of countenance, If this grosse spirit, or that weake shallow brain, Or this nice wit, or that distemperance, Neglect, distast, vncomprehend, disdaine; When such sicke eies, can neuer cast a glance But through the colours of their proper staine. Though I must needs confesse the small respect, That these great-seeming best of men do giue, (Whose brow begets th' inferior sorts neglect,) Might moue the weake irresolute to grieue:

But stronger, see how iustly this defect Hath ouertooke the times wherein we liue; That learning needs must run the common fate Of all things else, thrust on by her own weight, Comporting nother selfe in her estate Vnder this burthen of a selfe conceipt: Our own dissentious hands opening the gate Vnto Contempt, that on our quarrels waite, Discouered haue our inward gouernment, And let in hard opinion to disgrace The generall, for some weake impotent That beare out their disease with a stolne face, Who (sillie soules) the more wit they haue spent, The lesse they shew'd not bettring their bad case. And see how soone this rowling world can take Aduantage for her dissolution, Faine to get loose from this with holding stake Of ciuill science and diseretion: How glad it would run wilde, that it might make One formelesse forme of one confusion? Like tyrant Ottomans blindfolded state, Which must know nothing more but to obay: For this, seekes greedy ignorance t'abate Our number, order, liuing, forme and sway; For this, it practises to dissipate Th'vnsheltred troupes, till all be made awaie.

For since our fathers sinnes puld first to ground The pale of their disseuered dignitie, And ouerthrew that holy reuerent bound That parted learning and the laiety, And laid all flat in common to confound The honor and respect of pietie: It did so much invile the estimate Of th'opened and invulgard mysteries, Which now reduc'd vnto the basest rate, Must waite vpon the Norman subtleties, Who (being mounted vp into their state) Do best with wrangling rudenesse sympathize. And yet though now set quite behind the traine Of vulgar sway (and light of powre wai'd light) Yet would this giddy innouation faine Downe with it lower to abase it quite: And those poore remnants that do yet remain The spoiled marks of their deuided right: They wholy would deface, to leaue no face Of reuerent distinction and degree, As if they waigh'd no difference in this case Betwixt Religions age and infancie; Where th'one must creepe, th'other stand with grace Least turn'd to a child it ouerturned bee. Though to pull backe th' on-running state of things, (Gathering corruption as it gathers daies)

Vnto the forme of their first orderings, Is the best meanes that dissolution staies, And to go forward backward, right, men brings, T'obserue the line frō whence they tooke their waies. Yet being once gone wide, and the right way Not leuell to the times condition: To alter course may bring men more astray; And leauing what was knowne to light on none, Since euery change the reuerence doth decay Of that which alway should continue one. For this is that close kept Palladium, Which once remou'd brings ruine euermore: This stird makes men fore-setled to become Curious to know what was belieu'd before: Whilst faith disputes that vsed to be dombe, And more men striue to talke then to adore. For neuer head-strong reformation will Rest till to th'extreame opposite it run, And ouer-run the mean distrusted still As being too neere of kin, to that men shun: For good and bad, and all must be one ill, When once there is another truth begun. So hard it is an euen hand to beare, In tempering with such maladies as these, Least that our forward passions launce to neare, And make the cure proue worse then the disease?

For with the worst we will not spare the best, Because it growes with that which doth displease: And faults are easier lookt in, then redrest; Men running with such eager violence At the first view of errors fresh in quest, As they to rid an inconuenience, Sticke not to raise a mischiefe in the steed, Which after mocks their weake improuidence: And therefore ô make not your own sides bleed To pricke at others, you that would amend By pulling down; and thinke you can proceed By going backe vnto the farther end, Let stand that little Couert left behind, Where on your succours and respects depend. And bring not down the prizes of the mind, With vnder-rating of your selues so base: You that the mighties doors do crooching find, To sell your selues to buy a little grace, Or waite whole months to out-bid Simonie, For that which being got is not your place: For if it were, what needed you to buy What was your due, your thursting shews your shift, And little worth that seekes iniuriously A worthier from his lawfull roome to lift? We cannot say that you were then preferr'd, But that your mony was, or some worse gift.

O scattring gath'rers that without regard Of times to come, will to be made, vndo: As if you were the last of men, prepar'd To burie in your graues all other to. Dare you prophane that holie portion Which neuer sacreligious hands durst do? Did forme-establishing deuotion, To maintaine a respectiue reuerence Extend her bountifull prouision With such a charitable prouidence, For your deforming handes to dissipate And make Gods due your impious expence? No maruaile then though th'ouer pestred state Want roome for goodnes, if our little hold Be lessned vnto such a narrow rate That reuerence cannot sit, sit as it should; And yet what need we thus for roomes complaine, That shall not want void roome if this course hold: And more then will be fill'd, for who will straine To get an emptie title to betray His hopes and trauaile for an honour vaine And gaine a port without support or stay? What need hath enuie to maligne their state That will themselues so kind, giue it away? This makes indeed our number passe the rate Of our prouisions; which if dealt aright

Would yeeld sufficient roome t'accommodate More then we haue in places requisite. The ill disposing onely doth vs set In disaray, and out of order quite. Whiles other gifts then of the mind shall get Vnder our colours that which is our dues, And to our trauailes neither benefite, Nor grace, nor honor, nor respect accrewes: This sicknes of the states soule, Learning, then The bodies great distemprature insues. For if that learnings roomes to learned men Were as their heritage distributed, All this disordred thrust would cease, for when The sit were call'd, th'vn worthy frustrated These would b'asham'd to seek, those to b'vnsought And stay'ng their turn were sure they should be sped. Then would our drooping Academies brought Againe in heart, regaine that reuerend hand Oslost opinion, and no more be thought Th'vnnecessarie furnish of the land, Nor disincourag'd with their small esteeme, Confus'd, irresolute, and wauering stand. Caring not to become profound, but seeme Contented with a superficiall skill Which for a sleight reward inough they deem, When th'one succeedes as well as th' other will,

Seeing shorter wayes lead sooner to their end, And others longer trauailes thriue so ill. Then would they onely labour to extend Their now vnsearching spirits beyond these bounds Of others powres, wherein they must be pend As if there were besides no other grounds: And set their bold Plus vltra far without The pillers of those Axioms age propounds. Discou'ring dayly more, and more about In that immense and boundlesse Ocean Of Natures riches, neuer yet found out Nor fore-clos'd, with the wit of any man. So far beyond the ordinarie course That other vnindustrious ages ran, That these more curious times they might deuorce From the opinion they are linckt vnto Of our disable and vnactiue force, To shew true knowledge can both speak and do: Arm'd for the sharpe, which in these dayes they finde, With all prouisions that belong thereto. That their experience may not come behind The times conceipt, but leading in their place May make men see the weapons of the mind Are states best strengths, and kingdoms chiefest grace, And rooms of charge, charg'd ful with worth & praise Makes maiestie appeare with her full face,

Shining with all her beames, with all her raies Vnscanted of her parts, vnshadowed In any darkned point: which still bewrayes The waine of powre, when powr's vnfurnished And hath not all those entire complements Wherewith the state should for her state be sped. And though the fortune of some age consents Vnto a thousand errors grossely wrought, Which flourisht ouer with their faire euents Haue past for current, and good courses thought; The least whereof in other times againe Most dangerous inconueniences haue brought, Whilst to the times, not to mens wits pertaine The good successes of ill manag'd deeds, Though th'ignorant deceiu'd with colours vaine Misse of the causes whence this lucke proceeds. Forreine defects giuing home-faults the way, Make euen that weakenes somtimes well succeeds. I grant that some vnlettered practique may (Leauing beyond the Alpes faith and respect, To God and man) with impious cunning sway The courses fore-begun with like effect, And without stop maintaine the turning on And haue his errors deemd without defect: But when some powrefull opposition Shall, with a sound incountring shocke, disioint

The fore-contriued frame, and theroupon Th'experience of the present disappoint, And other stirring spirits, and other hearts Built-huge, for action, meeting in a point; Shall driue the world to sommon all their artes And all too little for so reall might, When no aduantages of weaker parts Shal beare out shallow councels from the light; And this sence-opening action (which doth hate Vnmanly crast) shall looke to haue her right. Who then holds vp the glorie of the state (Which lettered armes, & armed letters won) Who shall be fittest to negotiate Contemn'd Iustinian, or else Littleton? When it shall not be held wisedome to be Priuately made, and publiquely vndon: But sound deseignes that iudgment shal decree Out of a true discern, of the cleare wayes That lie direct, with safe-going equitie Imbroyling not their owne & others dayes. Extending forth their prouidence beyond The circuit of their owne particular; That euen the ignorant may vnderstand How that deceipt is but a cauiller, And true vnto it selfe can neuer stand, But stil must with her owne conclusions war.

Can truth and honestie, wherein consists The right repose on earth, the surest ground Of trust, come weaker arm'd into the lists, Then sraud or vice, that doth it selfe confound? Or shall presumption that doth what it lists, Not what it ought, carry her courses sound? Then what safe place out of confusion Hath plain proceeding honestie to dwell? What sute of grace, hath vertue to put on If vice shall weare as good, and do as well? If wrong, if craft, if indiscretion, Act as faire parts with ends as laudable? Which all this mightie volume of euents The world, the vniuersall mappe ofdeedes Strongly controwles, and proues from all discents, That the directest courses best succeedes When craft, wrapt still in many comberments With all her cunning thriues not, though it speedes. For should not graue and learn'd experience That lookes with th'eyes of all the world beside, And with all ages holdes intelligence, Go safer then deceipt without a guide? Which in the by-paths of her diffidence Crossing the wayes of Right, still runs more wide: Who will not grant? and therefore this obserue, No state standes sure but on the grounds of Right,

Of vertue, knowledge, iudgement to preserue, And all the powres of learnings requisite; Though other shifts a present turne may serue, Yet in the triall they will wey too light. And do not thou contemne this swelling tide And streame of words that now doth rise so hie Aboue the vsuall banks, and spreads so wide Ouer the borders of antiquitie: Which I confesse comes euer amplifide With th'abounding humours that do multiplie: And is with that same hand of happines Inlarg'd as vices are out of their bands; Yet so, as if let out but to redresse And calme, and sway th'affections it cōmands: VVhich as it stirres, it doth againe represse And brings in, th'outgone malice that with stands. Powre aboue powres, O heauenly Eloquence, That with the strong reine of commanding words, Dost manage, guide, and master th'eminence Of mens affections, more then all their swords: Shall we not offer to thy excellence The richest treasure that our wit affoords? Thou that canst do much more with one poor pen Then all the powres of princes can effect: And draw, diuert, dispose, and fashion men Better then force or rigour can direct:

Should we this ornament of glorie then As th'vnmateriall fruits of shades, neglect? Or should we carelesse come behind the rest In powre of wordes, that go before in worth, When as our accents equall to the best Is able greater wonders to bring forth: When all that euer hotter spirits exprest Comes bettered by the patience of the North? And who in time knowes whither we may vent The treasure of our tongue, to what strange shores This gaine of our best glorie shal be sent, T'inrich vnknowing Nations with our stores? VVhat worlds in th'yet vnformed Occident May come refin'd with th'accents that are ours? Or who can tell for what great worke in hand The greatnes of our stile is now ordain'd? VVhat powres it shall bring in, what spirits cōmand, What thoughts let out, what humors keep restrain'd What mischiefe it may powrefully withstand, And what faire ends may thereby be attain'd: And as for Poesie (mother of this force) That breeds, brings forth, and nourishes this might, Teaching it in a loose, yet measured course, VVith comely motions how to go vpright: And fostring it with bountifull discourse Adorns it thus in fashions of delight,

What should I say? since it is well approu'd The speech of heauen, with whō they haue cōmerce That only seeme out of themselues remou'd, And do withmore then humane skils conuerse: Those nūbers where with heauen & earth are'mou'd, Shew, weakenes speaks in prose, but powre in verse. Where in thou like wise seemest to allow That th'acts of worthy men shuld be preseru'd; As in the holiest tombes we can bestow Vpon their glory that haue well deseru'd, Wherein thou dost no other virtue show Then what most barbrous countries haue obseru'd: When all the happiest nations hitherto Did with no lesser glory speake then do. Now to what else thy malice shall obiect, For schooles, and Arts, and their necessitie: When from my Lord, whose iudgement must direct And forme, and fashion my abilitie I shall haue got more strength: thou shalt expect Out of my better leasure, my reply. And if herein the curious sort shall deeme My will was caried far beyond my force, And that it is a thing doth ill beseeme The function of a Poem, to discourse: Thy learned iudgement which I most esteeme (Worthy Fulke Greuil) must defend this course.

By whose mild grace, and gentle hand at first My Infant Muse was brought in open sight From out the darkenesse wherein it was nurst, And made to be partaker of the light; Which peraduenture neuer else had durst T'appeare in place, but had beene smothered quite. And now herein incourag'd by thy praise, Is made so bold and ventrous to attempt Beyond example, and to trie those waies, That malice from our forces thinkes exempt: To see if we our wronged lines could raise Aboue the reach of lightnesse and contempt.

FINIS.

Notes

• Virtue.