The parliament of bees, with their proper characters. Or a bee-hive furnisht with twelve hony-combes, as pleasant as profitable Being an allegoricall description of the actions of good and bad men in these our daies. By John Daye, sometimes student of Caius Colledge in Cambridge.

Character 11.

Rexacillium. The high Bench Bar.

OBron in his Star-Chamber sits, Sends out Subpoena's, High Court Writs, To th' Mr. Bee, degradeth some, Frees others, all share legall doome.

Speakers.

• Obron,
• Fairies,
• Mr. Bee,
• Prorex,
• Vespa,
• Hornet,
• Humble Bee,
• Fucus or Droane.

Obr.

NOw summon in our Mr. Bee, With all his swarme, and tell him wee Command our homage.

Fai.

He is come, Roome for great Prorex there, make roome.

Obr.

What meanes this slacknesse?

Pro.

Royall Sir, My care made me a loyterer, To bring in these transgressing Bees, Who by deceits and fallacies Cloath'd with a smooth and faire intent, Have wrong'd me in my government.

Obr.

The manner how?

Pro.

These wicked three, The Wasp, the Droane, and Humble Bee, Conspir'd like Traytors, first the Wasp, Sought in his covetous paw to grasp All he could finger, made the Sea Not onely his monopolie; But with his wing'd swarmes scowr'd the plaines, Robbed and slew our wearie Swaines Comming from work: The Humble Bee (A flye as tyrannous as hee) By a strange yet legall stealth, Non-suited Bees of all their wealth. The Drone, a Bee more mercilesse, Our needy commons so oppresse, By hoording up, and poysoning th'earth, Once in three yeares hee'd make a dearth, A needlesse one, transporting more To strangers than would feed our poore, At quarter day, if any lacks His rent, he ceaze both honey and wax, Throwing him out to beg and sterve For which.

Obr.

As they your selfe deserve Due punishment, for servants sins We commit their Masters, Justice wins

More honour, and shines more compleat In vertue, by suppressing great, Than hanging poore ones; yet because You have beene zealous in our Lawes, Your fault we pardon; for Delinquents We have legall punishments: Vespa that pillag'd sea and land, Engrossing all into his hand, From all we banish, dead or alive, Never shall Vespa come in Hive; But like a Pyrat and a Theefe, Steale and pilfer his releefe: Thou hast fed ryots, lusts, and rapes, And drawne vice in such horrid shapes, As very Horse-flyes, had they knowne 'em, For credits cause, yet would not owne 'em: Th'ast made thy Hive a Brothell, acted sin 'Gainst Nature, and the royaltie of kin, So base, as but thy selfe none could invent: They are all thine owne, and thou their president: For which, as thou thy fame hast lost, So be thine Armes and Titles crost From forth the roll of Heraldrie, That blazons out true Gentrie, Live ever exil'd: Fucus, you That engrost our Hony deaw, Bought wax and honey up by th' great, (Transporting it as slaves doe wheat) Your Hive (with hony hid in trees And hollow banks) our poore lame Bees

Shall share, and even as Vespa so Unpatroniz'd live banisht too. Last, you that by your surly hum, Would needs usurp a Praetors roome, Your chamlet gowne, your purple hood, And stately phrase scarce understood, Or knowne from this our Mr. Bee, Made th'ignorant think that you were hee, And pay you reverence, for your hate To th'poore, and envie to our State, We here degrade and let you fall To th' dunghill, your originall; From Nettles, Hemlocks, Docks and weeds, (On which your Pesant-linage feeds) Suck your diet: to be short, Ne're see our face, nor haunt our Court.

Pro.

And whither must these flyes be sent?

Obr.

To everlasting banishment, Underneath two hanging rocks,* 1.1 (Where babbling Eccho sits and mocks Poore Travellers) there lyes a grove, With whom the Sun's so out of love, He never smiles on't, (pale Despaire Cals it his monarchall chaire) Fruit halfe ripe, hang rivell'd and shrunk On broken armes, torne from the trunk: The moorish pooles stand emptie, left By water, stolne by cunning theft To hollow banks, driven out by Snakes, Adders, and Newts, that man these lakes:

The mossie weeds halfe swelter'd, serv'd As beds for vermin hunger-sterv'd: The woods are Yew-trees, rent and broke By whirle-winds, here and there an Oake Halfe cleft with thunder, to this grove We banish them.

All.

Some mercie, Iove.

Obr.

You should have cry'd so in your youth, When Chronos* 1.2 and his Daughter Truth Sojourn'd amongst you, when you spent Whole yeares in ryotous merriment, Thrusting poore Bees out of their hives, Ceazing both honey, wax, and lives, You should have call'd for mercie, when You impal'd common blossomes, when In stead of giving poore Bees food, You eat their flesh and drunk their blood.

All.

Be this our warning.

Obr.

'Tis too late, Fairies thrust them to their fate: Now Prorex our chiefe Mr. Bee, And Vice-Roy, thus we lesson thee, Thy preterit errours we forgive, Provided you hereafter live In compasse, take againe your Crowne, But make your subjects so your owne, As you for them may answer.

Pro.

Sir, (For this high favour you confer) True loyaltie (upon my knee) I promise both for them and mee.

Obr.

Rise in our love then, and that you, What you have promis'd may pursue,

Chaste Latria I bestow On vou in Marriage, sheele teach you how 〈◊◊〉〈◊◊〉 your selfe; faire truth and time, Boulvatch, and constant Chime, To all your actions: Now adew, Prorex shall againe renew His potent raigne: the massie world Which in Glittering Orbes is hurld About the poles, be Lord of: wee Onely reserve our Royaltie, Field-musicke? Obron must away For us our Gentle Fayries stay, In the Mountaines and the rocks Wee'l hunt the Gray, and little Foxe, Who destroy our Lambs at feed, And spoyle the Neasts, where Turtles breed, If Vespa, Fucus, or proud Error Fright thy Bees, and be a terror To thy Groves, 'tis Obrons will As Out-lawes you them seize and kill, Apollo, and the Muses dance, Art has banish'd ignorance, And chas'd all flies of Rape and stealth From forth our winged Common-wealth.

FINIS.

Notes

• * 1.1

  Charact. Gehennae.
• * 1.2

  Tempus.