The heroical lover, or, Antheon and Fidelta a poem / written by Thomas Bancroft.

THE HEROICAL LOVER, (Book 1)

CANTO I. (Book 1)

The Argument.

Of honour'd parents Antheon bred, And in green years well seasoned, Is loth his lineage to belie, But aimes at true nobility.

GReat Fate, that a kingdome here did throw The chance of war, afflicts us still with woe; Yet some impulsion stirres me up to sing:

Daigne me, ye Muses, from your purest spring. A flow of bounty, that my tongue may be Sweetly embath'd, and sound true harmony. In new Atlantis, Charidem, and fair Olympia lately dwelt a noble pair, Warm'd with a love as equal as the heat That Chymists use th' Elixar to beget. The bright Celestials slide not from the skies More calmely, to perform their embassies, Than these went through all passages of life▪ At no time troubled with domestick strife, Wealth flow'd upon them like a high Spring-tide, Yet neither by intemperance nor pride (Vices that on great forrunes most attend) 'Gainst well-known morals did they much offend. They oft reflected on this humble sphere, Whence their ••rail morral parts desumed were; Yet minding that their soules to heavenly fires Were near ally'd, they scorn'd all base desires. A Son they had (the tender fruit of love) Whom sith propitious Planets, Sol and love, Welcom'd into the world; some Artists, wel Taught by clear▪ Heaven dark matters to fore-tel; (As formerly the Delphick God had from His golden Tripod utter'd things to come) Were askt what fortunes should the child betide In course of years: whereto it was reply'd, " That as he was illustrious by descent,

" So for his acts he should be eminent, " Should seek as treasure faire Fidelta's love, " And richly blest i••its fruition prove. Now, as when Philip saw his son bestride Bucephalus, he was so highly joy'd, That his dilated spirits down his face Made tears to run, as each did other chase: So were the Parents of young Antheon (so Their son they cal'd) most joyful to fore-know That bravely he to Honour should aspire, And crown with rich content his high desire. 'Twas their first care to have his body strong And solid, able to endure each wrong Of wind and weather. But when time (that mends As wel as marrs, and by concoction spends The drowsy humours in an Infants brain) His wits had waken'd, and laid things more plain Before his sight, that well he might discern Proposed objects, and their nature learn; They with sweet easie precepts well did fit His tender age, and then the same commit To learned Worthies, men that did as wel In vertues, as in sciences, excel, These much admir'd his forward industry. And as when in the years minority Young goodly Plants with smiling blossoms shine, We of their fruitfulness may well divine: So did these sonnes of wisdome boldly guess

He would grow famous by his forwardness, And that such sparks of excellence would fly Up to a pitch of rare sublimity. Of these he learn'd exotick languages, Such as conduc'd to nobler knowledges Of liberal arts, religion, manners, and The lawes and customes of each famous land. As his wit was to admiration prompt, So was his language elegant and compt Beyond compare; and well he could bestick His sentences with flowers of Rhetorick. Nile, that with sev'n mouths runnes into the Main, Seems not more fluent than his happy strain Of elocution was; his hands and eyes Being order'd with his voice to harmonize: Nor can strong Neptune with his trident raise His waters sooner, or their wrath appease, Than he could by his Oratory sway Mens hearts, and turn them this or th'other way. But when to nobler verse he did erect His spirits, O what curious and select Phrases came melting from his sugred pen, Able to soften marble-breasted men, Or harder-hearred women! nere could he Endure to blast his leaves with ribauldry, Or stoop to baseness; but still high and clear (As Phoebus some beseem'd) his phansies were: T'••onour and vertue did he still direct

His aimes, and on such sacred things reflect, As Orpheus thought on in his ravisht state, When he with hymnes the Gods did celebrate. What ere's compris'd in Natures history, Was the discourse of his Philosophy; Who was not ignorant what spirit blowes The worlds main Organ, most harmonious; What principles do constitute the same; Nor what proportion in the wondrous frame One to another holds; nor yet how great War they maintain, where concord keeps her seat. Of what the gazing multitude admir'd He learn'd the causes, and thereof desir'd So clear a knowledge, that he did despise The trifling term of obscure qualities. All sorts of Meteors, whether high or low, With their imperfect mixtures, did he know. He found that subterranean winds do make (For false imprisonment) the earth to quake. He well could tell what strength of cold converts Water to Hail; and that the frothier sorts Of vapours, from the aires cold middle-roome Do in thin flakes of Snow (thick-scatter'd) come, Whose dissolution mirthful plenty brings; And these the feathers are of Boreas wings. He knew what smoky exhalations roll'd Up into aire, and there begert with cold, And chaf't into a flame, do roar and crack,

As Heaven had broke the Giant Atlas back. He knew what those that kept the Heavens high∣way By contemplation▪ did of Comets say; What copious fumes, when many mon'ths they hung Ore a sad kingdome, fewell'd them so long; After what Planets course they most did bend Their motions, and what fates they did portend. He knew the Globe celestial, Parallels, Colures, Meridians, and all circles else▪ Could into several coasts the Heavens divide, Had learn'd what circuits the fair starrs do ride, With all that to their influence belongs, As he had heard divine Iopas songs. But more familiarly this Globe below, With all its Zones and Climates, did he know; How broad a liquid girdle (here and there Embost with Islands) girts the solid sphere; And how the shore's indented more or less With Promontories, Creeks, and Isthmuses. He knew all watery wonders, and could tell How humorous Luna makes the Ocean swel; And how it sinkes again; as persons high And proud, are apt to fall from dignity. No Mariner that dwells upon the Flood, The use of Chart or compass understood More perfectly than he, nor dar'd profess More knowledge of all famous voyages. Well vers't he was (affecting to be wise

At others charge) in best of histories, And as an Indian upon Ganges shore 'Mongst common pibbles pickes up golden ore, So amongst obvious passages what he Worth observation found, he faithfully Entreasur'd in his mind, and so indear'd That to his use which he of others heard. But when he met with actions brave and great, Such as enforc't pro••d fame on them to wait, O then he seem'd to feel a secret fire Boiling his blood, and raising a desire To match th'atchievements were they nere so high, And pass the low marks of mortality! He had more skill to hit than mind to hurt, And us'd his sword but in a way of sport, Yet durst the stoutest Combatants oppose, And could make down-right payment with his blowes; But in the dusty field of Mars he chose Rather to chafe his blood, and could dispose An army (as his best advantage lay) In all the several formes of battel-ray, And quickly change them, as from circular To Oval, Cuneate, or Quadrangular. He knew when to go on, and when retreat; How a besieged town to win, and beat An enemy out of his fortress; he Could use all Engines made for battery; Could work a Mine under a Castle-wall,

And make it with more noise than thunder fall; Could fortifie a Hold, make sure defence With all sorts of securing Muniments, As knowing what to Palisadoes, strong Ensconcing, and entrenchments did belong. One would have judg'd him o'th' Thessalian breed By's horsemanship; who, on his generous Steed Mounted, and raising dust with motion proud, Look'd like a Centaure phansied in a cloud. He could his courage raise, his force command, Cause him in full career to make a stand, T'obey his least directions, every way To turne, curvet, and lusty gambols play. But as a weak child roming here and there In a large garden, plucks some flowers near In trifling sort, but balketh more, that are Perhaps more sweet, more beautiful and rare So on his meaner ornaments I yet Lay hold, but things more laudable omit; As that (which is of knowledges the best) He knew great Natures Parent (who imprest His image upon man,) and likewise knew What tribute's to his Soveraigne goodness due. should relate how well acquainted he With his own essence was, how far could see Into his frame, his temperament, and all His bloods impulsions, which we Passions call: How far he div'd into th' abstrusity

O'th' Soul, and after how much industry He found her seat imperial, her extent Of pow'r, and won••rous forme of government. He took delight with judgement to reflect Upon his own far-piercing Intellect, To reg••late its acts, and teach his Will To yield obedience to its dictates still. Hence famous for his wisdome he became; And justly, sith enlightned by the same All vertues are, which in his gentle breast Meeting, with much content their centre blest. Such was his valour, that he knew not how To fear invasive danger, nor to bow Under afflictions weight, but upright stood With heart unconquer'd and unchilled blood. In the foul gulfs of luxury he nere Emplunged himself, but a fair course did s••eere In Seas of plenty: and what ere he took In hand, did fixtly at fair justice look; Nor (so much as his Poniards breadth) would pass Beyond the way that right and level was. His courteous sweetness humbly seem'd to show That from high Ancestry his blood did flow: His bounty (free as heavenly influence) Made good the style of brave magnificence: And all his vertues were wrought up so high, So full of lustre, strength, and dignity, That nothing could be added save the sound Of mighty Fame to make them more renown'd.