The bucolicks of Baptist Mantuan: in ten eclogues. / Translated out of Latine into English, by Tho: Harvey Gent.

THE ECLOGUES OF BAPTIST MANTUAN

Englished by Tho: Harvey.

ECLOGUE I. Treating of honest Love and its happy success Intituled FAUSTUS.

The Argument.

Here Fortunatus doth desire To talk of Love: his reasons why. Faustus assents; declares his fire, His Bride and Epithalamy.

The Speakers Fortunatus and Faustus.

Fo.

I Pray thee Faustus, while the cattel chew In the cool shade their cud; let us review Our former loves? lest idle while we stay, Or fall asleep, some cruel beasts of prey Amid the rip'ned Corn that slily creep Seize on our Cattel: better wake then sleep.

Faust.

This place, this tree where-under we reside, Well knows what cares me griev'd, what sires me fry'd, Three years, or (as I take it) four years past.

But sith thou pleasest, sith thou leisure hast, From the beginning (here while we repose) The Matter and the Manner I'le disclose. Here on these Plaines while I my Cattel fed, When first Loves flames assail'd mine heart-mine head, Upon my Coat outspread (full many a day) Cast careless on the ground I cureless lay, With sighes and tears my sad—sad fates recounting, No rest to me, no labour sweet amounting; Dull were my Senses in my senseless breast, My restless minde was buried in unrest. Like sick mens stomachs, whose dull appetite No Cates to feed, no delicates invite: My Poesie deceas'd, no Pipe of mine Sounded at all; I did my Bowe decline: My Sling was hateful, hateful were my Dogs, Hateful was Fowling, Nutting; All were clogs. To weave a twiggen Basket, or with Hook To catch the Fish, or Sparrows nests to look, To wrestle, or with fingers up to sport At Odde or Even (ah) I car'd not for't, Though pleasing one, while I (my self above) Was uninfected with this sickness, Love. But irksome are those sports which pleas'd of late; To gather Strawberries and Grapes, I hate. Like Philomel I mourn'd, when she with food Returning in her beak to feed her brood, Findes robb'd her Nest, and emptied of her young; Which seeing, she (poor wretch) with sorrow stung Lets fall the meat, and sits (as if forlorn) Right o're against her Nest upon some Thorn; Where, in sad tunes and melancholly tones Her hapless self, her Mate and young bemones. Or as when some fair Heifer is bereft Of her first Calf (which in a Brake she left) When, after she hath rang'd the groves, the grounds, Making them all re eccho with the sounds

Of her loud lowing; down she sits alone In some sad shape at last, and gives a grone, Careless of food, sitting as if forsook, Nor eating grass, nor drinking of the brook. But why with vain circuities am I So long, so tedious? sith I lose thereby My words, my time, while here and there I glance, Leaving the Substance for the Circumstance. The summe is this: I liv'd against my will. Now the particulars of this mine ill, If thou perhaps wouldst know, thou then maist say't, What wind (O Faustus) drove thee to this strait? My Galla me (for I'le confess the truth To thee my Fortunatus, dearest youth) My Galla me with her serener shine, With her most sweet aspect so did intwine, So did intangle, as the Spider draws The captiv'd Fly surrounded in her claws. For her fair face was ruddy, plump and round: And though one eye did seem almost unsound; Yet while I did admire her face, her years, I said, Diana's beauty lack'd of hers.

Fo.

Love mocks the Senses, blindes our eyes, beguiles Our Souls, befools us with bewitching wiles. I think some Devil, creeping in our veins, Inflames our hearts, and sets on sire our reins, Our mindes unhingeth, and our thoughts distracts. Nor is this Love (which thus these things transacts) A God, as some affirm: I rather guess It is an Errour, and a bitterness.

Fa.

Adde, that I hopeless was t'injoy my Love, Though she compassionate and kinde did prove; Though she with signes and glances of her eyes Express'd her love with mine to sympathize. For alwayes wheresoere she went, there went Her married Sister, spy-like alwayes sent; Her crabbed Mother follow'd: Thus our fires

Were still oppos'd with opposite desires; Like Cat and Rat: This seeks for meat, and that Quick sighted guards the chinks to catch the Rat.

Fo.

Full bellies Fasts commend; and those are worst Unto the thirsty, that endure no thirst.

Fa.

'Twas Harvest; and full time with crooked hook To reap the Corn, the fields did yellow look With ripened Barley: Then (as 'twas their use) My Galla's Mother did her self produce With her two Daughters, here and there to glean What Corn the Reapers had not gather'd clean. For or her Mother knew not of our flame, Or did dissemble that she knew the same. I think she did dissemble: For she knew (Though from her sight my tokens I withdrew) I gave her Daughter (her good will to get) A pair of Pidgeons, and a Leveret.

Fo.

'Tis onely poverty that doth oppose Good natures and good manners: These and those It shames; 'tis too propense for any vice, And doth to wickedness, to sins intice.

Fa.

The Maid was gleaning Corn; and, as before, The more I went, she follow'd me the more. Her feet were bare, her bosome loosely drest, Her arms half naked, and in all the rest, Befitting Summers heat she was yclad; Green boughes in wreath upon her head she had To shade her from the Sun, lest burn'd thereby Her face should less delight a Lovers eye. Now close behinde me, sometimes near my side She glean'd the Corn, I did of purpose slide. A woman can nor conquer, nor defer, Nor hide her love; such levity's in her.

Fo.

All Lovers have their levity; nor have This frailty women onely, but the grave, The great, the wise, they that would seem t'excel All other mortals, have this fault as well.

They that are clad with Robes of Tyrian dye, That walk in State, in King-like Majesty. Affected so thou wast then her more mad, Perhaps more light: The Maid (no doubt) was glad To glean the Corn was given her; but thou Didd'st give the Corn: Speak, who was maddest now? But on. I must my turn in talking keep, Lest peradventure else I fall asleep.

Fa.

When us her peevish Mother did behold, She took it ill, and thus began to scold; Now whither go'st thou? why do'st wander from Thy company? Come hither Galla, come. Here near these Alders is a cooling shade, The milder aire here gently doth invade The trembling leaves with murmurs (pleasing prate) Here gentle gales refresh, refrigerate. O hateful voice unto mine ears (said I) Go, go ye strongest winds that swiftest flie, Go with a mischief, and that voice disperse; If any Shepherd be so much averse, As when his Sheep to pasture forth he leads, He would not suffer them to grase the Meads: Or fed, should drive them to the Rivers brink, And then deny their thirsty mouthes to drink; Would not, O would not you that Shepherd call Hard-hearted, merciless, unnaturall? That voice seem'd worse to me, then when in ire Jove rattles out his Thunders mixt with fire; Or as when angry with our Earth, the Skies Pour Cataracts of Waters from their eyes. I could not choose, though loth I was to frown: The Maid her vail from under (which hung down Over her eye brows) me beheld the while, And glanc'd upon me with a pleasing smile. Which when her pettish Mother did yken, She Calla call'd, Galla she call'd agen. But on her gleaning, Galla more intent,

Heeds not her words: And as I forward went She follow'd, as by steps, so by desire; I careful then to set her spark on fire, (For subtile Love with cunning Complements Vents fine deceits, and pretty frauds invents) By singing now, and then with hollowing Chearing the Reapers, I conceal'd the thing, That Mother both, and Sister therewithall Might think that Galla did not hear their call. I put the Thorns aside, lest they should meet The Maidens naked legs, and tender feet.

Fo.

All Lovers are inslav'd, and captiv'd all, With yielding necks they bear the yoke of thrall: Their backs bear sharp-sweet stripes, and such as prick, Oxe-like they draw the Plough, yet never kick.

Fa.

I see thou then hast something known of Love.

Fo.

O 'tis a Common evil, it doth move In ev'ry sphere; the wisest man that is One time or other hath been mad in this.

Fo.

This then so bad a good, so sweet a sowre Increas'd more cruell ev'ry day and hour, Like Titans scorching heat till noon be past. At length I pallid look'd like one agast, Like a Lymphatick or a Frantick Ghost, My Memory, my Sleep at last were lost. Nor was it difficult my grief to know, The Face, the Minde, the Look the love doth show: Which when my Father found, he grew more kinde Then was his use: perhaps he call'd to minde His own experiments of love, whose fate Made him anothers love commiserate. At length indulgent he thus kindly said, Tell, Faustus, tell me, speak, be not afraid, What troubles thee? what thoughts perplex thy breast? Poor Boy, thy very looks doe Love attest; Come, tell me; nor be bashful to declare To me thy Father what thy sorrows are.

Fo.

Though Fathers to their Sons may seem austere, Though (supercilious) they may look severe, Yet ever candid is their minde, their will Is ever loving and indulgent still.

Fa.

When thus my Father had himself express'd, I fully, freely my desires confess'd. I crav'd his aid, he promis'd it; and e're The Winter frosts did in the fields appear, My Parents and the Maids consented both, And her to me did solemnly betroth. Yet could I not without some witness by Be near the Maid, or in her company. Inflam'd the while with thirst, I gaping stood, Like Tantalus amid the Chrystal flood. How often, O! have I sent home the Plow Alone with th'Oxen (or I car'd not how) While to my Dear I went, in hope to finde All gone from home, her solely left behinde? I wanted not excuses, nor pretence Of wanting something for convenience; Plough-handle, Harrows, Plough-staff, Thongs or Yoke, And though all wanting were for which I spoke At the Maids Fathers house, yet (truth to grant) I nothing but the Maid her self did want. I was not wanting to my self; for I Resum'd my former sports, and did apply My self to Fishing, Fowling, Hunting, and What e're I took with mine industrious hand, Or caught by chance, the Maid did thither draw, I was a most officious Son in law. At midnight once I stealing through the door (For so the Maid and I agreed before) The Dogs descri'd me, took me for a Thief, Upon me fell: I forc'd (for my relief) Leap'd o're an high grown hedge without demurs, But scarce scap'd biting of those barking Curs, And thus with these delights (befit a Lover)

At length (though long) we past that Winter over. The Spring return'd, perfum'd with Eglantine, Green grew the Trees, and flourishing the Vine. Now Ceres russel'd in her bristling Corn With pendant eares; and when it must be shorn The Mower thinks; for nightly now the skies With Glow-worms shine, and glist'ring Butterflies: Loe now my Marriage, now my genial day Approach'd, appear'd; when I (without delay) The Maid espous'd; what need I more recite? At night we found our long expected night, When with successful winds (thank Hymen for't) My ship arriv'd at the desired Port. Then having kill'd an Oxe, we did display, Because it was a double Holy-day, A double Feast; the Tables full were spread, Under a broad green Tree, with meat and bread. Oenophilus was there, who fill'd with wine, Made welcome sports for all that there did dine; And Tonius; whose Pipe of Boxen wood Bor'd full of holes, made Musick passing good. At length, when all had eat and drank their fill, His party-coloured bagge and Pipe most shrill He took; his ruddy cheeks began to swell, His eyes to stare, his eye-lids rose and fell. Then with an oft and deep extracted blast From's hollow lungs, the bagge's inflate at last, Which with his elbow squeez'd, and having found Vent through the Pipe, did make the Pipe resound. Now here, now there his nimble finges skip From top to bottom, from his hand t'his lip; Whose jolly Musick all the Yonkers calls Away to Dancing from their Festivals. Where on the Green, that day was sweetly spent In Piping, Dancing, Sporting, Merriment. And now three years are past, the fourth is nigh, Since chanted was mine Epithalamy.

Thus our delightful dayes with posting houres Are quickly past; what pleaseth, flies, what lowres, Adheres more close, and longer doth abide Then twenty dayes of jollity beside.

Fo

Faustus do'st see? look how the Cattel break Into the Vineyards, while we sporting speak, We must be gone; lest if we longer stay, Our Purses for the Trespass soundly pay.

The End of the first Eclogue.

ECLOGUE II. Treating of the Madness of Love. Intituled FORTUNATUS.

The Argument.

First Fortunatus doth relate Po's inundation, with th'event. Next of Amyntas Love and Fate He treats, and doth his case lament.

The Speakers Fortunatus and Faustus.

Faust.

WHy com'st so late? what kept thee thus from hence So long a while? Now 'tis a se'night since Thy flock was here: Where do'st thy Cattel keep? What, are these Pastures hurtful for thy Sheep?

Fort.

No, Faustus, no: The River Po which glides With silver streams along our Meadows sides, Grew late so proud, that uncontroll'd he laves The levell'd Banks with his insulting Waves. We leaving then the Flock, and careless of it, Urg'd by the publick and our private profit, By day, by night did labour to make good The ruin'd banks against the raging flood.

Fa.

Our Tityrus, who sweetly sang the praise Of Fields and Pastures in his learned Layes, Reports for certain; That the River Po Brings oft ill fortune with its overflow.

Fo.

'Tis true perhaps, when unindifferent The River with unlimited extent

Doth timeless, meanless, boundless floods repeat, High swelling on a sudden, after heat. And now's the time: For now the Winter snow From Hills high tops dissolves, and runs below, Which empty Rivers fills. And thus those Hills Unload themselves, and load the lesser Rills; These load the Rivers, and the Rivers case Themselves, and are disburthen'd in the Seas. Men do the like; each doth himself unpack, And casts the burthen on anothers back. But now the River with a fair retreat Is recontracted in its proper seat.

Fa.

True: but (a wonder 'tis to speak) when Po Did ebbe, our Brook the more did overflow: The City swims, the Cellars are afloat, They row unto the vessels in a Boat: The servant, sent to draw for such as dine, Laughs while he swims unto the Butts of Wine. And from the Cellars deep and wat'ry Vault, A great black Jack of Wine at length is brought. Thus Citizens, though born they seem (perhaps) To better fortunes, have some after-claps: They many discommodities abide, Yea manifold sometimes, and great beside.

Fo.

No profit here, but some disprofit brings, (Like Bees, that with their honey have their stings) Here's nothing perfect; fulness here doth want, All joyes have here some sad Concomitant.

Fa.

Thus farre Eridanus. And now from Po Let's on, and chant our loves before we go. Sith now fair Venus all things moves to mirth, The skies are clear and warm; the verdant earth Is clad in green, the Birds with vernal song Now clear the fields, and all are big with yong.

Fo.

Thou thine hast chanted: Others, not mine own I will relate; yet ones, to thee well known, A Shepherds; once well known he was to thee,

While from inchanting Venus he was free: That I may teach, and (teaching) plainly prove, That nothing is more violent then Love. Poorest Amyntas, but unhappy more, Under some ill aspected Planet bore, Driving six Bullocks, Heifers six to grass, With a stout Bull that their Conducter was, Chief Captain of the Drove; at last did come To Coitus, where, with a Snow-like some The silver stream of Mincius doth dye The Meadows, as it swiftly runneth by A new built Castle, whose high walls around With Turrets and with Battlements are crown'd, Is Coitus; built in a Moorish soil, But near the River, a most stately Pile. Amyntas here reposing (where the Vine With large imbraces doth the Trees intwine Near to the glassy River, where it made Along the Bank an over-hanging shade) Sought to surprise with angling Rod and Hook The silver Fishes in the Chrystal Brook. 'Twas Harvest time; and Titans scorching force Had sing'd the fields: The Nightingale was hoarse, And ceas'd to sing: Nor could the Sheep by day Be fed with grass, because 'twas burn'd away: Nor were the skipping Grashoppers (though few) Refresh'd with moisture of the nigthly dew. But on the waters while he was intent, And in a fruitless sport his study spent, The Bull (as is reported) stung at first With Wasps, next cours'd with Dogs, with Curs accurst, Then hid by thievish Souldiers in a grove, At last was lost, and vanish'd from the Drove. Which when Amyntas knew, he climb'd an hill, And looking round about him, with a shrill And hollow voice he call'd the Bull: but when With long survey the Bull he could not ken.

When lost he found his labour, up he takes His Bow and Quiver, and pursuance makes After the Bull through wayes unknown and known Him seeking all the Pastures up and down, Among the Stalls of Beasts and Cotes of Sheep, Among thine hills Benacus; through the deep Fat Olive fields, through grounds beset (by line) With frondent Fig trees, and the fruitful Vine. He came at length unto the lofty Crest Of an high Mountain (higher then the rest) Where Rocks of Sulphur are, which doth reflect Upon Benacus with a fair prospect, Whence all the Meadows here and there that lie Presented are apparent to your eye. 'Twas then S. Peters Festival, and there Under a broad green Elme assembled were From all the villages a lusty Crew Of youthful Men and Maids, who thither drew When all had din'd: where, when the Pipe did sound They mixt together, danc'd a jolly round. The Rusticks are a people of that guise, Whom no Civility can civilize: A restless and indomitable Creature, Whom neither Art can qualife nor Nature. They love to labour, sweating doth them please; On Holy dayes (when others take their ease) The morning past they gormandise and feast, Impatient of hunger and of rest. And when their Paunch is cramm'd, and dinner done, Hearing the Pipe, away to the th' Elme they run: Here rageth one, another danceth there, Who like an Oxe most nimbly doth careero; And with his clouted Shoon, and lob-like lond He tears and tires that Earth, which with his goad, His Plough and Harrows, 'twere a sin (they say) To till or teare upon an Holy day: And all that day he spends, till night recalls.

In bonny Belly cheer and Bacchanals, With Singing, Laughing, Dancing, merrily, Carousing till the Pots and Cups be dry.

Fa.

Fool, why do'st prattle thus? Thou do'st condemn The Countrey sports, when thou art one of them: Thou to thy friends art bad, but (foolish Else) In this th'art worse, and worst unto thy selfe.

Fo.

I did but jest. Come, let's proceed to tell Of our Amyntas, and what him befell. He coming thither in the cooling shade, And leaning on his staff of Maple made, There stopp'd his passage, there his journey staid, Until the scorching heat were more allaid. Ah hapless Lad! though in the shade thou lie, A greater heat then Titans will thee frie. Shut, shut thine eyes; lest, Oh if they dismount, Thou see Diana naked in the Fount. Stop, stop thine ears; O listen not at all To the bewitching Syrens flatt'ring call. Thou like Narcissus art: Narcissus first But seeking at the Found to quench his thirst, Thirsted the more. And thou, while thou do'st fly An outward heat, with inward flames wilt fry. O how much, how much better had it been (If so thy fates had pleas'd) t'have never seen That luckess Bull, t'have presently return'd To th'other Cattel (e're thou thus had'st burn'd) T'have kept those heifers that were left behinde, T'have lost thy Bull with a contented minde; Rather, then while thy labour thou do'st waste, Nothing to lose, to lose thy self at last.

Fa.

But after losses who becomes not wise? We should not after, but before, advise: Vain is all after-counsel, and as vain As, after fruits are ripe, a shower of rain.

Fo.

Among the Maiden company was one, One fairer then the rest, whose beauty shone

Amid her flaxen Tresses, nearly drest, A Virgin fairer, taller then the rest, Some twenty years of age, of lovely face, One, that the City Beauties would disgrace If but contesting, or compar'd with them, For Beauty, she would win the Diadem From all the City Nymphs: A fillet round Beset with golden glitt'ring Aglets bound Her Temples; whence a pendant vail inclos'd Her shoulders, which amid her breasts repos'd, There fast'ned with a yellow tach, and here Clos'd with an iron button shining cleere; A linnen garment white she wore, and new, Laid thick of pleats, most comely to the view, Hanging so long, so low, that it did meet, And sweep the ground beneath her tender feet. Assoon as her Amyntas did espy, He perish'd by the sight: his ravish'd eye Ingulph'd fierce flames: his amorous desire Suck'd in a secret unsuspected fire; A fire that having once inflam'd his heart, Could nor in whole b'extinguish'd, nor in part By floods of water, or by showres of rain: Vain was Herbs force, and Magick Spells were vain. Forgetful of his flocks, and careless frown Of his domestick things (as not his own) He's all inflam'd, and (empti'd of delights) Expends the long, the melancholly nights In bitterness and mourning: O how oft, Assaying with kinde words, and language soft, To quench his raging flame, to cool his heat, His frantick, furious heat, did I repeat My words, and thus did say, Distressed Boy, Deserving pity, what doth thee destroy. What God in these perplexities involv'd Thy troubled minde? But (ah) 'tis soon resolv'd: It was not God, it was the Devil rather,

Satan himself, the worst of all; the Father Of all those wicked spirits•• which they say In thrice three nights, atd thrice a trebled day From the Supernall Heavens headlong fell To th' Earth, or lower, to the lowest hell. Tell me, go too: when thou did'st any know Or dost remember any that did grow To wealth or credit thus, that in this wise Inlarg'd his house, or did to greatnesse rise? That thus with greater heaps of Corn did fill His garners, or more ameld Fields did till? That by such courses did increase his Flock, Or wish more Cattle did his pastures stock? Among so many multitudes of Nations That on the spacious Earth have habitations Are some, who to their execrable Feasts Serve up mens Bodies for their bloody guests, Who tear them with their teeth, and as their Food Devour their Flesh: There are I say a brood Of such curst vipers, whom the furies haunt, And with so many mischiefes them inchant. But ther's no kind so savage, none so bad No Nation's there so barbarous, so mad, But as an execrable thing doth hate To be by love of women Captivate. Hence come contentions, hence comes strife and warrs, And ofttimes death with many bloody scarrs: Hence Cities have been ruin'd, raz'd their wall: Yea, the sage Lawes, and solemn decretalls Bound in red leather-volumes disapprove This wanton sin, and hate unlawfull love. When thus Amyntas heard me speak of Lawes He made this answer (and without a pause, For he was civiliz'd, and did converse Within the City) Thou do'st this rehearse Quoth he, that by these warnings thou might'st seem Wise, Circumspect, and of discreet esteem:

Thus thinking to be thought t'excell the wise The supercilious Catoes for advise. This errour, this wise madness reigns too much▪ Himself man flatters, and would fain be such As he conceits himself, he fain would seem A witty Creature, of a vast esteem: But unadvised yet he spreads, he sets To catch himself a thousand snares and Nets, And oftentimes himself at unawares Falls in his own digg'd pits, his ownrspread snares. Once he was free, but brought himself in thrall, And made the slavish yok•• he draw withall, That is the burden of the Lawes (For I) Have seen those volumes) which so pond'rous lie, That neither our Forefathers, nor their heirs, Nor we, nor our Posterity, nor theirs Could, or can ever keep in act or awe According to the letter of the Law. Behold how foolish is Mans wisdom; Man At heaven levells, and believes he can Transcend the Starres, or in a Ranck with them Invested, wear a star-like Diadem, When as his body dead, perhaps his soul May transmigrate into some winged foul, And Feather'd so may sore aloft, and fly With nimble plumes amid the middle sky. Thus He: Then I reply'd, why do'st repine? Why do'st thus snarle? The Lawes are things divine. God is their Author, them to disobey Doth too-too great impiety bewray.

Fa.

These arguments are great, and treat (like Kings) Of weighty matters, of mysterious things.

Fo.

Why what do'st think I was; though now ('tis true) My Coat is patch'd, my face of sordid hue, Yet then in strength, wit, language I was rare, None other Shepheard could with me compare. And now, if thou would'st go with Front erect,

With upright body, thou for thine aspect, For thy comportment, shalt in some degree Another Marius or Carbo be.

Fo.

Amyntas thus reprov'd, did thus reply; God envy'd Man created, when his eye View'd with what happiness his gifts began, He thought that good, to be too good for man: He quash'd his wish, and limited his will By new made Laws, which curb mans nature still, And bridle him, as horsemen when they ride Bridle their horses, lest they start aside. My love compels my judgement to disclose, And makes me freely speak: who doth oppose The common use of Wives, that man (in truth) Is envious; but honesty (forsooth) His envy must excuse: an honest thought Which evil custome of long envy brought; For while each man t'himself alone confines His own delights, and with disdain repines To make them publick: This became a sage, A common custome, honest made with age: And jealous Madness by degrees did draw This but a Custome to be made a Law. Love is malignant, Pleasure is no less; Both murmure at anothers happiness. Then I, not daring longer to contest Against a man with Passion so possest, Lest him inflam'd with Love, with Choller burn'd, And from the frantick Lover home return'd.

Fa.

See'st how this fond, this mad affection blindes The soundest judgements of the sagest mindes, Us leading in a voluntary way To grossest errours at the mid of day?

Fo.

Seest how the Clouds on Baldus top condense In black agglomerations? Come, let's hence; 'Twill hail, 'tis time to go; lest (if it rise) The tempest our dispersed Sheep surprise.

The End of the second Eclogue.

ECLOGUE III. Treating of the hapless event of Frantick Love. Intituled AMYNTAS.

The Argument.

What Losses husbandmen attend, What rage Amyntas did assail, His death and lamantable end Here Fortunatus doth bewail.

The Speakers, Faustus and Fortunatus.

Faust.

THat ratling storm of hail, which yesternight Came rushing down from Baldus, did affright, But did not hurt us with its suddain showers, Thanks to those tutelary Saints of ours That guard our Fruits: but yet those boisterous storms (As Harculus, who came from thence, informes) O Fortunatus spoil'd Verona's Fields: The Sheep and Cattle, with what else it yields, The Country Cottages and Shepheards Cotts Are batter'd so with those tempestuous shots, Are so demolish'd, that small hope remains, Or rather none to those poor Country Swains For Corn and Cattle, all the riches are Of Husbandmen, still subject, as to care So to mischances; Citizens the while A masse of Treasure in their Coffers pile. Which neither Hail, Dew, Frost, nor irefull aire Can dash, dissolve, diminish, or impair.

Fort.

I know not who the winds and storms Commands,

I know I know not; Nor, if I those hands Did know, know I enough: but yet I dare Speak what I know: my mind I will declare. What? shall my life be thus imbitter'd here? Shall I here be so lash'd, and so severe? If (as they say) the Gods above the skies Do rule the world, I think their deities Take little care, or else but little know The miserable toyl of Men below. See with what daily paines and hourly sweat A poor a slender living here we get: How many miseries within a year For Wives, Flocks, Children do poor Shepheards bear? With Summer heat we fry, with winters cold We freeze: When Boreas with his blasts growes bold, We sleep in ragged Cots upon the ground; A thousand Pests, a thousand sores confound Our Cattle, and a thousand things prevail Against them: Here the sheepfold Theeves assail, Wolves there; The Souldier yonder is as brief To steal us both; Nay more then Wolfe or thief. Our hands with daily toyl are stiff and hard, Our face is rivell'd, rugged is our Beard, Our skin is parch'd with heat; and yet at last One suddain storm of hail doth all lay wast. The Gods do this, before whose shrines we bow, And on whose Altars (with a solemn vow) We sacrifice our Lamps, and voted lights Of wax, devoted to Religious rites. I know not what Indulgence, or what love What Piety, what Pity from above Involves poor Shepheards (poor by frequent losses) With these so great mishaps, so grievous crosses.

Faust.

This dammage, this unhappinesse proceeds O Fortunatus, from our own misdeeds: Gods Judgements all are alwaies just: Our sin, Our wickedness these plagues hath usher'd in.

Fort.

What wickedness? What have we yet assaid To murther Christ? what, have we Christ betray'd?

Faust.

Oh, our repinings, Robberies, and rages, Our veneries, lies, strifes, produce these strages.

Fort.

What have the good deserved, for I suppose All are not evill; yet both these and those Suffer alike? One punishment is had A like for all together, good and bad.

Faust.

Alass, what know'st thou not (presumptuous clod) 'Tis impious to think amisse of God? But leaving these Mysterious things, too great To know, which must be secret: Let's repeat Amyntas Love: Come, let's repeat again Those care, which vex'd his heart, which craz'd his brain, Which all have tri'd, which are unknown to none.

Fort.

Love is a common thing, the wonted tone Of youth, it is their study, their delight. But grief and perturbations blind the sight With passion, which doth oft unhing the mind, Thus sad expressions from sad hearts we find.

Faust.

Things known and understood, Thou maist re∣late For matter and for time, but never prate Of things unknown, or of uncertainties: (For so great Cosmas was accounted wise)

Fort.

Faustus the'art wise: Let's then known Loves re∣peat: It rests, that of Amyntas now we treat, Of his mad Love, his last sad Fate, and spend Some tears upon his lamentable end, A little after, passing by that way, I saw the man again, who Frantick lay: I, pitying his folly, Thus began: O thou (quoth I) most miserable Man Most misadvis'd whom fatall Aconite Intoxicates, now made the common spite, The Common sport of people: dost not yet Repent thy love? Dost yet thy self forget? Yet buried in Love do'st snatch from hence

Thy self, and thine with thee (by violence) Thy Cottages and Cattle, as of y'ore Expiring Sampson all things with him bore? When old thou grow'st (if so the Fates be pleas'd) Who shall sustain thee then? then when diseas'd, Dull, Sleepy, poor, if now thy strength and wit Decay, decline, if now thy Senses flit? All these (like waters through an open Sluce) If death prevent not, Age will introduce. Keep home, be vigilant, observant be; But chiefly whither thou dost tend, foresee: Beware thou go not thither, whither come, Thou maist deplore, thy most unhappy doom: Discern thy waies; Remember Man was born Not to delights or pleasures, but to scorn Those flattering effoeminate deceits Which spoil unstable youth with sugred baits, I, I that Cattle have, and Milk, and Cheese, Do scarce subsist in such hard times as these; The want's so great in all our Fields and Tents, Things have so many sad and bad events. So great disprofits ev'ry where disperse, So many things adverse in th' Ʋniverse. Hear an unheard of thing, a thing unknown Of yore, which now to me these times have shown: Autumne approaching, as it is our use, I shore my sheep; which done, I did produce At mornings Market, and expos'd to sale Twice thirty pound of Wooll (nor is't a tale) Expecting store of money for the same, But short mine hope, mine expectation came: 'Twill scarce preserve my Flock 'twill scarce provide Hay for the Winter: which way then beside My Family shall be maintain'd as well, Indeed Amyntas, yet I cannot tell. He that's a Lover must himself improve By gifts unto the Mistress of his love.

But thou whom fickle Fortune hath bereft Almost of all, to whom she scarce hath left A Cottage, under which thy poornesse may Be lodg'd at Night, or be receiv'd by day. What canst thou give which may be gratefull said Unto the wish of thy beloved Maid? 'Twas once enough to send those Loves of ours Ten pleasant apples, or some purple flowers, A Birds Nest, or sweet grasse: when these were thought Great gifts I wel remember; But 'tis brought From grasse to gold; Love is a costly thing, A dear bought sweet too great expence doth bring In these our times; Old customes are refus'd, And now new Lawes of Love, but worse, are us'd. While thus I did perswade, He cast aside His irefull eyes, and (frowning) thus repli'd: If thou O Fortunatus do'st desire My wish'd for health, Then give what I require, Give me my Love: No Medicine but this one Can cure my grief: This is the Cure alone: Those other things, which thou so much do'st name, Do but torment me more: This scorching flame, This Fury which so rageth in my breast. Can never thence be pull'd or dispossest; For still my mind as present doth suppose The Virgins shape, with me she comes, she goes, She staies, wakes, sleeps with me: mine heart, mine head, My bones, my reins are all Invironed With her fair Form: Nor from my melting heart Can she, before my life departs, depart. As when a Syence from one stock is cut, And graff'd upon another, Both do shut And joyn so close, That their two Natures grow Together mixt, and Flourish in one bough: So the beloved Image of my dear, My lovely Mistresse doth my soul adhere, Is there immerg'd: makes both our hearts but one,

But one makes both our souls: in us alone The Spirit and the Senses are the same. O happy should I be, if when my flame, My spark of life expires, I might (at least) Upon the tender lap, the milk white breast, The snow-like armes of my most honoured, And dearest Love but lay my dying head. She with her hands would close my dying eyes, She with sad voice, with lamentable cries Would wail my Funeralls: and whether I Deceasing to th' Elysian Fields shall flye, Or whether I be rapp'd and hurl'd upon The burning Streams of Flaming Phlegeton, I cannot happy be without thee, neither Unhappy with thee; Might we be together. Ye Dryades, and Goddesses of Flowers, O ye fair Nymphes, and O of Woods and Bowers, Thou Guardian Sylvanus, keep I pray, Keep on your hills and Valleyes all the gay, The gallant Flowers of your woods and Fields, Or of what sweets beside the Country yields: Hedge in your groves, and thence the Cattle stop, Lest they should brouze the buds, or flowers should crop Keep, keep I pray these Flowers, These sweets, These all, To Celebrate my loves sad Funerall: Then all the ground about where ere you tread, With Flowers sweetly smelling shall be spread: Weave Garlands you: Garlands for sight, for sent, Fair, fragrant to surround her Monument: Garlands my Mistresses dead Corpes to cover Untill interr'd; Then to be Pendant over. The Maiden Muses shall attend her hearse, And weeping sing an Elegiack verse: Shall on her grave ingrave in stone or lead This Epitaph for after-times to read, Here lies a Maid; Who, but she cruell was, Might among Mortalls for Immmortall passe:

Might have been Natures Paragon and Jewel, Had she not to her Lover been too cruel. O maid, if such a scorching flame as mine Did but inflame that breast, that heart of thine, An hundred gulphes, a thousand raging Seas I would swim o're, to give thy passions ease: But thou more cruel, thou more serpentine Then Hydra, do'st my self, my love decline. But (ah) the maid is blamelesse, for as yet She knows me not: and doubtlesse could she get But knowledge of my love, she would afford My love some comfort of her own accord. Nor can I think that Nature e're did place So harde an heart under so sweet a face. But faces are deceitful; for the while They seem most beautiful, they most beguile: A cruel mind hath oft a Candid skin; Fair looks without, conceal foul hearts within. Yet I will speak, and make her know my love: But should she then repulse me, should she prove Unkind, mine eyes would melt in tears, mine heart, My mourning heart with deep fetch'd grones would part Would break in twain, and though she still detest, And fly me following her with my request, Yet whither ever I shall carried be, These cares, these thoughts for her will follow me. Hence, O far hence Physicians with your art, For (ah) incurable's my grief, my smart: Hence, O far hence Magicians, you whose spells Can raise (they say) pale Ghosts from Pluto's Cells: Hence, O far hence you, that the Pow'rs Divine, Suppose your vain Petitions can incline: Your Orizons (alas) are despicable Averse is Heaven and inexorable: Impatience and madnesse me from hence Transport with rage, and rap with violence: I like to trace the solitary Crests

Of craggy Mountains, and the Dens of Beasts. While thus he spake, with friendly words I tride T' asswage him, but my words were misappli'd. For nothing, ah there could be nothing found To cure his never to be cured wound. Amid the silent Fields in discontent The long, the melancholy night he spent, And from the dawning to the close of day Among the Brakes and Bushes hid he lay: He never slept, and did but seldome eat, Water his drink, wild apples were his meat. After long grones at length, and mournfull cries, Exhausting with continuall tears his eies, After most sad laments, with griefs o'reworn, His heart within often sighes asunder torne He died, ending, with his life, his love. His livelesse body left the ground above Without interment, and neglected quite, The Birds devour'd by day, the Beasts by night.

Fa.

Ah, Cupids deadly dram, ah fatall gin, Which whosoevers heart it enters in Doth wholy Captivate that wretched heart, Transfixing it with an invenom'd dart, Men equalling with Beasts: what worse Receits, What more impoyson'd, or bewitching baits Could Circe, could Calypso give then these? What Styx, what Phlegeton could more disease? What Furies more torment? O most unwise You were, what e're you were, that did disguise Blind Cupid with a godhead; what is Nature A God, that hurts or Nullifies a Creature? Where e're there is a God, him think we must To be to man indulgent, harmlesse, just.

Fo.

Ah sweet, and ever to be pitied youth, Surpriz'd thus in thy prime, thy lives chief growth; What fatall star did on thy Birth reflect? What part of heaven with so dire aspect

So much malign'd thee, that It made thy Fate (Though causelesse) from thy Birth unfortunate? Yet from thee was not heav'ns sweet influence Wholy declin'd, but that thou wert from thence Inspir'd with sacred Poesie, with skill To sing sweet Sonnets on thine Oaten quill: And, but for timelesse death, thy learned laies Ivie deserv'd, deserv'd Parnassus Bayes: Nor did our Tytirus so well belov'd Of great Alexis, better sing ('tis prov'd) Of Wars, Corn, Tillage, Pastures, ev'ry thing, Then thou thy self, then thou thy self didst sing. For thy Mature, propense and active Mind, (Which we long since observ'd, to good inclin'd) Began to Fructifie, began t' impart No vulgar showers of thy rare gifts and art. Thou maist be stil'd to thine etern renown The Countries honour, and our ages Crown; Po with our Mincius in doleful tone With all their Nymphes shall thee bewail, bemoan, As Thrac' an Hebrus Orpheus did lament: Thee the sad Shepheards full of discontent Bewail, as Daphnis once they did bewail; For thee, like discontents assault, assail, The grounds and Pastures all untill'd and til'd. Whose sad complaints are heard in every field, Ye Shepheards with sweet Flow'rs his grave bestrew, And yearly there his memory renue With Elegies and Frankincense: with them Sing there the Poets endless Requiem.

Fa.

But thou the while Amyntas dost possesse A better place, a place of happinesse; Here we bewail thee, thou the while art come Into the pleasures of Elysium.

Fo.

And he this day should be bewail'd of us: For I last night beheld an Ominous, I know not what sad-seeming apparition

To me presented in a mournful vision. But now 'tis evening: and the setting Sun Declining in a cloud doth rain forerun, Foreshews our husbandmen that storms are near; 'Tis therefore time before the storm appear To recollect our Cattle: come (foretold) Let's drive our sheep and Cattle to the Fold.

The End of the third Eclogue.

ECLOGUE IV. Treating of the Nature of Women. Intituled ALPHUS.

The Argument.

Janus relates his Lad, his Goat How first he lost, and then did find: Whence Alphus doth proceed to note The Properties of womenkind.

The Speakers Alphus and Janus.

Al.

I Anus, I see thy Goat is lean, which wont To be more brisk, and with his horned Front Sky-ward erected wont to stalk in scorn: Dull and dejected now (like one forlorne) He flaggs his ears, the grasse but smells, ornips Or doth but touch it with his outer lips.

Ja.

He languisheth, and from that languishing Ariseth mirth: which, when to mind I bring, It makes me laugh; the jest is yet unshown, But all the world will wonder, when 'tis known.

Al.

Janus, thy pleasing tongue was us'd to vent Most wittily, neat jests with merriment; Tell therefore, tell me now (here's none but us) What made thy lusty Goat to languish thus.

Ja.

I'l tell thee, God's my witnesse 'tis no Fable. 'Twas lately done, 'tis truth and warrantable. But I for nothing will not this report, What's my reward what wilt thou giveme for't?

Al.

Ianus, i'l shew the bush, i'l shew the Field

Where a sweet-singing Nightingale doth build.

Ja.

Who slightly promise, lightly they Beguile.

Al.

Who credits not is faithless; but the while To make thee sure, loe, from my quiver drawn A pair of arrows; Take them for a pawn.

Ja.

I'l then begin: Ye Muses move my tongue, Revive my memory, that I the wrong, The sad misfortune of my Goat may tell; And t' Alphus grant the Nest of Philomel. I hir'd a boy, and plac'd him o're my sheep: He daily fed them, and did duly keep My Goate, my Kidds; his service for a while Was grateful to me, till he saw the smile Of a fair Virgin, who to these our springs For water came: But since with languishing. He pines, now sottish is become, neglects To feed the sheep, the sheepcotes disrespects, And all his business in a giddy vain Turns topsy-turvy with his empty brain. Him, while he slept, one would have thought awake, For waking idly with himself he spake; He sleeping us'd and waking in extreams, His body dull, his mind was full of dreams. He loy'tring, in a grove, this Goate of mine Ti'd by the hornes with a strong twiggen line Among the bush••s; (now 'tis four daies since) Assaying if the Goat could break from thence By strength of neck, or hardnesse of his horns. The Boy mean while among the brakes and thorns, Stalkes wandring up and down the wood to seek, To find a birds nest in some bush or Creek. His mind is on the maid, his thoughts reflect Upon her beautifull-belov'd aspect, Her Face, breasts, other parts, which here for shame My blushing modesty forbears to name. Day flyes the while: The boy comes home at night But left the Goat behind, forgot him quite.

At Midnight he bethought him, and arose To seek the Goat: goes out, and as he goes Half trembling in the dark, he falls at last In a deep pit, whose mouth was overcast With boughes and straw, so cover'd to betray, To take wild Beasts that on our Cattle prey. Deep was the Pit, and steep wherein he fell, Returnles like the bottom of a wel. The Goat's in bonds, in prison is the boy, No shepheard guards the sheep, though Wolves destroy, 'Twas the third hour next morn, I wond'red, I My sheep review'd, recounted, ('tis no lie) Missing the Goat amaz'd I stood, I call'd The Boy, the sheepcotes search'd, and much appall'd, I fear'd lest 'nointed with inchanted oyl, And mounting on my Goat, he from the soyl, Had leap'd, and travell'd through the pathlesse air: For witches so (they say) by ni••ht repair, Using like magick ointments, and are hurl'd To certain feasts far off, about the world. Amaz'd, at length my sheep to grasse I drove, And musing with my self, while I the grove Did enter in; Behold far off, behold My Goat amid the bushes in the cold And dusky shadow brayes, and striving stands Butting with horns oppos'd against his bands, This suddain apparition of my Goat, This unexpected comming e're I thought, Affrighted me: yet with couragious heart At length I knew the Beast, I plaid my part, I went among the Brakes, and cut in twain Those rigid bands that did my Goat detain, Returning homewards late, I spi'd afar Among the Pastures that adjoyning are A multitude of jolly-merry Boyes, leaping and laughing loud with youthful noises When near we came together me they knew,

Saluted, and thus said, O Ianus view, View here thy Boy, but newly from the snares Of Wolves drawn out, wherein at unawares Headlong he tell, walking by night the ground; And thus my Goat and Shepheard both were found. The Goat thus wrong'd still pines: The foolish lad More pining is, and then the Goat more mad. The maid once hearing that she was belov'd, Grew quickly proud; and seeming nothing mov'd Dissembles it, dissembles that she knew The Lads affection, still her self withdrew, As if abash'd, and (like a subtil Trul) To make her beauty seem more beautiful, Her head, her breasts she decks, she blushing jetts Down looking on the growing violets: And cunningly she doth the thing disguise With sample shews, but Fox-like subtleties. These are the womens studies, gins and arms. My shepheard thus bewitch'd with these her charms, Yet hoping that he should at length injoy His love, his Galatea: (foolish Boy) Disdain'd his wages, and my service left, Onely pursu'd his love: I, thus bereft, Was forc'd to leave mine oxen, plough and wayn, And t' undertake the shepheards trade again. Youths levity to madnesse thus propense Infests all Countries in aequivalence.

Al.

What wit effects not, Fortune doth advance: O strange astonishment, O witty chance, O pretty things deserving two months laughter. Ianus, I'l keep my word: Pandions daughter Doth for thee labour, builds her nest for thee. But now thou speak'st of this so crafty she, This subtile-wily maid, I call to mind What Ʋmber's of the frauds of women kind Us'd oft of yore to sing in learned verse.

Ia.

Tel me (pr'y thee) tel, if ought thou canst rehearse

Of Ʋmber, weigh his words, his verse awhile, All Ʋmbers verses were of lofty style, Were memorable all, and worth regard.

Al.

They be, thou saist, but not without reward To be repeated: What reward, what pay? What wilt thou give me? speak, and then I'le say.

Ja.

I from thy promise thee release; and (more) Here, take, thy pair of Arrows I restore.

Al.

While I behinde these sedges go t'untruss, Look to my Cattel, Janus, lest they thus Stragling abroad should break (beyond their lines) Into the Vineyards, and there spoil the Vines.

Ja.

O Ram, thou Ram that with thy crooked horns, Like a black Devil, look'st among the thorns, Entring the Vineyards still; thou'lt not forbear, Till from thy forhead both thine eyes I tear. Are not those Pastures, which in measure be An hundred Acres, large enough for thee, But that thou must destroy, thou must despoil The Vines and Vineyards (that inclosed soil?)

Al.

Janus, I thee remember, and return: But I perhaps can tell (that thou maist learn) Things yet unknown to thee: for Umber knew All that was lawful for a man to view, All that was lawful for a man to know; He knew the world above, the world below, The skies, stars, earth, winds, rivers seas and fountains; He travell'd and had seen those lofty Mountains Ossa, ceraunia, Rhodope; besides The Gallick Kingdome, Araris, The tides Of Rhene, Po, Tiber: And his witty pate Greek Verses into Latine did translate. In either tongue he second was to none, But in each language learn'd. Him, him alone Greece envi'd us: Him, him (that learned race) Th' Arcadians themselves, with those of Thrace,

That chant it in the Groves did emulate, Thessaliam Temple did maligne his fate. If thou perhaps dost more desire to know, Our Neighbours Candidus that lives below, That follow'd still his Precepts, will impart Us to; for he remembers it, his art. But now the sev'n hol'd Pipe let's try, let's sound: Yet I the Muses first implore around To daigne their presence, but my chiefest guest, Polymna, more remembring then the rest. * 1.1The female Sex is servile, cruel, proud, Wanting law, measure, reason, very loud; The bounds of right omits, extremes admits, Doth all things unadvisedly by fits: Or it will slowly creep, or swiftly run, Or cold it is as Ice, or hot as Sun: Never well temper'd, never moderate, Or she will dearly love, or deadly hate. Would she seem grave? Too sullenly she lowres: Would she less grave seem plausible? She tow'rs On levity, and with a wanton smile Displays immodest Impudence the while. She weeps and laughs, fears, dares, is wise, unwise, Will, will not: All things doth by contraries. Flitting, inconstant, wand'ring, pratling, vain, Two-tongued, threatning, of imperious strain; Angry, blood-thirsty, wicked, avaricious, Catching, complaining, credulous, malicious, Lying, impatient, burd'nous, tipling all, Rash, taunting, light, ambitious, magicall; She-Pander, superstitious, slothful, prone To gossip, studious of the Stews, alone Of dainty palate, wanton, malapert, Addict to tenderness, addict (with art) To smooth-fac'd Adulation, and addict To trim her face, to make her beauty trickt: She, wrath and hate retaining, doth defer

Till opportunity produce for her Desir'd revenge, ungrateful, trustless, swelling, Bold, cruel, wrangling, violent, rebelling, Upbraideth others, but her owne offence Excuseth with her whining eloquence; Murmurs, accends debate, regards no ties Of amity, scoffs friendship, alwayes eyes Her own advantage, onely careful of it, Onely respecting her own proper profit; Flatters, deludes, delayes, too closely bites With bitter jests, and to divulge, delights, Vain fables addes to that which others spake, And of a Mole-hill doth a Mountain make. Feigns things are not, dissembles things that are, Most learn'd to frame excuses, and most rare To forge deceits; her face she fits for wiles, Her face all imitating, frowns or smiles. Her snares thou can'st not scape, thou can'st not fly, Thou can'st not overcome her subtlety, So great's her diligence, her skill so great To work a mischief if she please to cheat. And though thou see'st it with thine eyes, she dares Excuse the wickedness: Her potent snares Delude the Senses with her active minde. In nothing thou can'st credit her, so blinde She'll make thee, yet she'll make thee that thy faith Must credit ev'ry thing she doth, or saith. Examples this confirm: What horrid Crimes Have not bold Females acted in their times? Tarpeia for a Bracelet did betray To Romes proud foes the Port, the Cities Key. Bloody Medea did her hands imbrew In her own childrens blood, whom (ah) she slew. Adult rous Helen fill'd th' Aegean Seas With Ships of Warre. Scylla the foe to please Betraid her Father, stole his purple hair, Fled with the foe, o'return'd his Regal Chair.

Biblis her Brother with base Lust pollutes, Her self t'her Father Myrrha prostitutes. Semiramis for her own Son did lust: Amphiaraus was reduc'd to dust By means of his unfaithful wife: The Daughters Of Danaus kill'd, with unheard of slaughters, Their husbands in one night. A bloody Crew Of women the sweet Poet Orpheus slew, And him in pieces cruelly did cut. Pasiphae with Taurus plaid the slut. Immodest Phoedra full of impudence With Chastity did most unchaste dispence. Rebeccah did with subtlety beguile Her husband, and her elder son, the while She covered the youngers smoother skin With Kid-skins: so the Blessing he did win. Stout Hercules was poison'd by his wife; Hippodame betraid her Fathers life. Lavinia (to palliate a jarre) Involv'd the Trojans in a doubtful warre. Bryseis from the Camp Achilles drew. Chryseis with her Love-tricks overthrew The noble Agamemnon, who, with Love Mad and inrag'd, was punish'd from above By Phoebus, for his too too bold device: And Eve Mankinde expell'd from Paradice. Believe it shepherds (for I here attest The Countrey Gods) if you desire your rest, If you the Pastures would should harmless prove Unto your flocks, if you your flocks doe love, If Rest, Peace, Life be grateful to you; Chace All wanton Wenches from your dwelling-place. Away with Thestilis far hence, away With Phillis, and let her no longer stay Neaera, Galatea, nor their mate Lycoris; for they'll spend your whole estate. If you in your estates desire to thrive,

Far from your sheep cotes all those Lasses drive. Tell me what woman ever past the Chain Of Pluto's Cell, and thence return'd again? Had not Euridice been mad, she might Have back return'd through those black shades of night By which she thither went: And Proserpine Had not the luck those Dungeons to decline. But dutiful Aeneas safely came From those dark Dens; and Orpheus did the same. Great Hercules from thence again, unburn'd; And Theseus, and the Brethren two return'd, Both equal expert (brother like to brother) In Riding th'one, in Fights and Wrestling th'other. And our Redeemer did return from thence, Whose rising brought the sweetest influence Of Life and of Salvation. Shepherds, O These, these are Mysteries for us to know, For us to ponder: Let mans noble minde Fly things obscene for better things design'd. Let Foeminines themselves delight, delude With things and places infamous and rude. As when a Sailer, forc'd with winds and tide Hath dash'd his ship against a Rock, can guide Unheedy Sailers to decline that Rock. So man grown old and wiser, can unlock By long experience the Chance of things That are to come, and his Remembrance brings Things that are past to light, and shews thereby The many dangers of Mortality. If Fowl, the Cruel Eagle, N••ts the Deere, The Lamb the Wolf, Does Dogs do fly, do feare. VVhy do'st thou not, O shepherd, fear and fly VVomens inticements, hurt so much thereby. Hyaena-like th'are crafty to beguile, And pious are, as is the Crocodile, VVhen flattering she weeps, she thee besets: Fly, shepherd, womens looks, they be but Nets.

Trust not to courage, valour, nor to strength, Nor to that Buckler, whose unwonted length Did Perseus guard, that without hurt or dread He saw the Snakes upon Medusa's head: Those Snakes that metamophos'd into stone All that beheld her face, but him alone. Many have Monsters kill'd, have Giants tam'd, Have Cities overturned, have been fam'd To bound the Seas proud waves, and at their wills To stop the floods, to top the sharpest hills. The solemn Games to their immortal praise Have crown'd the Victors brows with frondent bayes. But all those Conquerors that others spoil'd, By women conquer'd were themselves and foil'd. He that was first a Shepherd, then a King, Renowned for his Lion and his Sling; His Son that after his devout example Erected sacred Zions stately Temple: And Sampson, whose unconquered strength excell'd All others, were by women captives held. Fire, Stones, Swords, Spears less hinder our designes, Yea Death less hurts us then those Foeminines. Nor with her native beauty pleas'd, she will A thousand wayes augment it with her skill: Gold decks her forehead; and to make her fair, She paints her face, and neatly curls her hair. With art she goes, with art she guides her eyes: She runs, and (sporting) from her lover flies Among the bushes, that she thither may Seduce her lover; willing she's to play, But simple yet, and honest she would seem; She's negative, and strives, but her esteem Prefers this one thing; all things else above To be subjected in the fights of Love. A woman ('tis a wonder) doth present The North-west wind, which in the firmament Condenseth clouds, and scatt'reth them again

In furious tempestuous storms of Rain. O whosoe're thou be, I thee forwarn This lesson from mine own experience learn; Try not, whilst thou maist choose, how many sorts Of dangers this frail sex with it comports, What deep disdains it hath: It is a Creature That is imperfect, and immund by Nature, But cures it self with Art; she works by day, And wakes by night to wash those blurs away. She washes, shaves, paints, prints, anoints, adorns, She's all deceit, all skill, all fill'd with scorns. Like Mymick Players, she's all Aconite, Her Looking-glass she doth consult for right, All things she doth thereby; she learns thereby To move her lips, to frame her face, her eye: She learns thereby to flatter with her lips, To laugh, to sport; her shoulders and her hips She learns thereby to wriggle as she goes, All by the Looking glass she doth compose. What mean those naked breasts? what means (I pray) That little-open chink above? the way That like a cloven Valley down directs Upon her naked bosome vain reflects? Doubtless for nothing else, but that th'adust And penetrable poison of hot Lust Should more oppress the senses with desire, And set mens hearts with Stygian flames on fire: These are to young men rocks and sands and seas; These are the Scylla's, the Charybdes these; These are those Harpyes, beastly Birds that flew About King Phineus house, and did bespew His Table wîth their odious excrements: These did defile his Chambers, Tables, Tents, His Feasting-rooms: Nor freed were from these ills Pathes, Temples, wayes, fields, rivers, seas or hills. These are those Gorgons, each with monstrous head, In the remotest parts of Africk bred;

VVho with their horrid looks and hellish tones Did living men transform to liveless stones. Learn'd Ʋmber's Verses we recited have, VVhich if they seem more tedious, or less grave, Think then (for briefly we did them rehearse) The fault is in the Matter, not the Verse. 'Tis VVomens Madness, 'tis not ô the Song, 'Tis not the Verse that tedious is or long. O memorable, grave and aged man, Of whom old Ʋmbria so much began To boast it self: whom (to thy City near) Ev'n Tiberis it self accounted dear. Thee warlike Rome, not without pregnant cause Did call so much: She knew (to thine applause) Thy skill, thy Verses of Heroick style: For thee, when thou didst die, the Nymphs of Nile, The Latine Naiades and Greek did mourn. O may thy bones lie soft within thine Urn; O may thy purer soul for ever, even For ever rest in th'Empiraeal Heaven.

The End of the fourth Eclogue.

ECLOGUE V. Treating of the Behaviour of Rich men to∣wards Poets; Intituled CANDIDUS.

The Argument

Sylanus here the Poets dull And sluggish life doth disallow. But Candidus complains at full How Poets are contemned now.

The Speakers▪ Sylvanus and Candidus.

Syl.

O Candidus, once thou didst use to feed Thy Cattel here with us; and on thy reed Didst warble out among our Countrey Swains In these cool shades sweet songs, melodious strains; Ear-pleasing witty verses; and withall Wast wont to wrestle stoutly for a fall: But alt'red now, as if thou didst derest The Shepherds Calling, and the Countries rest, The Pastures leav'st, thy self dost idle keep, Suff'ring thy Songs to cease, thy Pipe to sleep.

Ca.

You that have wealth enough at home, whose kine Strut with full Udders, whose white flocks resign Each milking their full Dugs, whose Milk like snow Fills full the Milkpails with its overflow. You whose fat dinners on the Table smoke, Our verses praise; if any thing be spoke More witty, 'tis applauded, and you lend

Your well-pleas'd ears with joy: but while we spend Our verse in vain (by which we wont to live) Some flatt'ring praise, and empty words you give, But nothing else: Mean-while the Poet's poor, Thirsts, hungers, starves with cold, ev'n at your door.

Syl.

Why, can'st not heed thy flock, and versify When leisure is; and, casting sorrows by, Lead on a pleasing life exempt from care?

Cand.

He that's a shepherd must no labours spare, But all his care about his flock must stay, To go, to come, to chace the Wolves away, T'inclose his Cottage with an hedge, to buy Fodder and straw for's sheep, himself t'apply To seek food for himself: which done remains But little leisure for Poetick strains. Sylvan, a commendable verse doth task All our endeavours, all our wits doth ask: Both these, to Poetize, and sheep to feed, Are grand imployments, and my strength exceed. When I did sing, I thirsted; but (accurst) None gave a cup of drink to quench my thirst: Some mock'd, and said, Thy Cloak is over-worn, Thy knees are bare, thy rough-grown Beard's unshorn. O Candidus, Now leaveless were the Trees, Cold Winter made the whited Mountains freeze. I storm'd, griev'd, scorn'd: Victual for us and ours Devours up all; Male-lambs and wooll devours; Our Female-lambs we fold not, but for breed Reserv'd them: And because on Milk they feed, Because we kept them for the flocks supply, Our Ewes we milk'd not; so their dugs grew dry. I now repent my wit, if any part Of wit I had, I now repent mine art: My life repents me; sith among so many Resplendent stars that nightly shine, not any With favourable influence doth shine Upon mine head, nor to my good incline.

Thou know'st I sang till now without reward; My youth not much in want, but little car'd: But the condition of old age, which since Hath seiz'd upon me, makes a difference Far greater, and doth render me more poor, More wanting necessaries then before, More weak's my strength (that strength which doth remain) And so cuts off all hopes of future gain. But what I gain'd in youth, I must with speed Make use of (now's the time) to serve my need. Behold the little Pismire, prudent Creature, And provident, doth by th'instinct of Nature Within her hollow Cells, while Summer lasts, Hoord up new Corn against cold Winters blasts: And lest her hoorded Corn the ground hid under Should grow, she bites it with her mouth asunder.

Syl.

They the Nativities can calculate Do know (they say) the Stars of each mans fate: For under Mercury they Poets place, And under Jupiter the Royal Race Of Kings and Potentates: Joves influence To these gives gold and rich magnificence; To those doth nimble Mercury devise Wit, Language, Musick, Art to Poetize; These things are thine: Why seek'st thou riches then? God all things doth divide amongst all men As most is for their good. O then ('tis best) Go with thy lot content; leave us the rest.

Cand.

Thou riches do'st possess, I verses have; Why then Sylvanus do'st my verses crave? Why do'st intrude upon anothers part?

Syl.

I nor thy verses, nor Apollo's art Desire to take from thee; but I desire To please mine ears with thy melodious Lyre, With thy sweet sounding, sweet resounding verse.

Cand.

If this thou wish, 'twere fit we did commerce; That as (Sylvanus) thou my verses hast,

I of thy riches so might have a taste.

Syl.

He tastes my wealth that loves me: but the kinde That envies, hates; and with malignant minde Repines at others goods, at others good.

Cand.

My verse might thus be likewise understood Enough by thee, though far remote I, and thus Thou shalt of verses have enough from us. Verse is our ears, Cheese is our mouths repast; If thou thine ears wilt please, then please my taste. This Love, this Piety, this God commands: God gives not all men all things in their hands, Because none should suppose he doth exceed, But one anothers succour we should need; Which doth all Nations joyn through th'Universe, French, Moores, Italians, Spaniards, in Commerce. Let's joyn our stars; make Jove on me reflect, And Mercury shall with benigne aspect Reflect on thee; shall give thee matchless things, His Hat, Rod, Harp, Herculean Knot and wings.

Syl.

Thy language with unnecessary words, Too many vain and foolish things affords.

Cand.

Thou say'st that all things vain and foolish be, That in thy riches seem t'indamage thee: But if thou wilt my Muse, my Verses hear, Rowse up thy drowsie minde and make it clear From worldly cares: A Verse desires to finde A chearful heart, a clear, a candid minde. But I dejected, frigid, indispos'd, With hunger stupifi'd, with wants inclos'd, Am circulating like a hungry Kite; My mouth is scorch'd with thirst, my skin (once white) Long since grew black and wither'd; in my Fold I have no Cattel, in my Purse no Gold, No Corn in Field: And (I thus poor and bare) Would'st have me live secure, exempt from care? This Med'cine is no cure for my distress; Come, make me merry, clothe my nakedness,

Provide me food, my weak old age supply; Thou then shalt hear me sing and versity. Well furnish'd houses, Cellers full of wine, Full vessels, flaggons full, full food to dine, Barns full of Corn, fair flocks that bear the Bell, Full bags of money; These all cares expell. Then in December, in those winter nights, To sit before the fire it much delights, And there in th'ashes (for a sporting trick) To plough up furrows with a little stick; To rost ripe Chestnuts there, and them all over With embers till they rosted are, to cover; With full fill'd glasses of refined wine To quench our thirst, to please our taste. In fine, Among the merry spinning Maids to sit, And hear them tell a Tale, and laught at it. Great Tityrus himself (as Fame doth ring) By learn'd Mecoenas patroniz'd, did sing More lofty strains of Farms, Fields, Cattel, Wars, And with his high rais'd notes did reach the Stars; Dame Fortune gave him eloquence: But us Poor weak Plebeians, all bepatched thus, Disguis'd with leanness, fed with coursest grain, The Muses shun, Apollo doth disdain.

Syl.

If Fortune, as I hop'd, my wish would grant, I would, O Candidus, supply thy want.

Cand.

I would to God, Sylvanus, that thy will Were but as prompt, as forward to fulfill Thy promises, as thine estate doth rise Now great enough to give my want supplies. I seek not Cosmus riches, nor desire Silk garments, Kingly fare, nor Cloaks of Tyre. I hunger not for Aesops costly dish, Nor for Minerva's Buckler is my wish; The Palaces I need not of that King, To whom his iron coloured Beard did bring A Name; or else if I mistake it not,

That name by's brasen-colour'd beard he got. These things long since (I now remember well) I learn'd of learned Ʋmber in his Cell. I but apparel ask, I seek but food Within some little Cottage: This more good Will do then wealth, if of this I were sure It would with me, while life endures, endure. Pythag'ras Table, Codrus houshold-stuff Let me but have, and I shall have enough. Oft have I found some that some hopes did show, Magnificent in words, in deeds but slow: But I on thee depend, on thee but one; If thou deceive me, then my hopes are gone: I then shall mute, I tongueless shall become, As in the Solstice Philomel is dumb; Then on the Posts our arms we may suspend, The Play house shut, and give the Shows an end:

Syl.

O Candidus, hast seen the City Rome? Hast seen the sacred Synod thither come Of Bishops? where so many Poets are: Where such abundancs is of things so rare, So beautiful? O 'tis a thing of ease To gather wealth in such fair fields as these.

Cand.

Thou do'st mistake, Sylvanus, if thou think I covet to be rich: The Wolf doth drink Raw blood, doth eat raw flesh; and thinks indeed All other Cattel as he feeds, to feed. Thou faulty, thinkest others in thy fault, And halting on the foot that thou dost halt. I seek not to be wealthy, but to live Content with little, let them to me give I shall contented be with meanest fare. Romes Palaces I saw; but do'st suppose That ever Rome did profit me with those? Dead is Augustus (ah) and in his Urn Never, O never hither to return.

If Rome give any thing, she gives but bables; She takes our gold, and feeds us with her fables. At Rome (alas) sole Money now doth sway, Vertue's exil'd: but we must hope they say. And now through all the world (Augustus dead) Poor Poets onely with vain hopes are fed.

Syl.

Come, speak of fights, mens famous acts recite, Speak of the Wars of Kings and men of might; And when thou speak'st, apply thy self to them That Scepters hold, and wear a Diadem, That govern Kingdomes; Thou maist finde (perchance) Among them some that will thy state advance.

Cand.

I them shall finde that will me scoff and scorn, Our Poesie lies now so much forlorn, And hath as much respect as have the Stews; Why, O Sylvanus do'st provoke my Muse?

Syl.

It is not seemly to provoke or wrong A Poet with foul words, or lavish tongue.

Cand.

I cannot, I, but speak the truth; but if Thou wouldst the truth should be conceal'd, in brief, Provoke me not with words unfitly spoke.

Syl.

To give good counsel is not to provoke.

Cand.

I'm rich in counsel, but most poor in gold; How shall so poor a Poet then unfold Fights, famous acts of men, and wars of Kings; So poor a Poet, whose whole In come brings Not means enough to buy a knife that's fit To cut a Pipe aright with holes in it? See what a ragged sheath my knife is in, The pin's dropp'd out; (it is not worth a pin) Look on my knife which from the sheath I draw, It's edge is full of teeth, and like a Saw. This yet were nothing; but where food is scant, It is a great intolerable want. Good Counsel strengthens, but bad breaks ones heart, Weakens the strength, the courage doth subvert. Great men will blush to give a gift that's small,

And great they will not give; so none at all. Adde, that our Kings a verse as much affect, As Northern winds the frondent leaves respect. Or as the Southern winds indulge the Seas; Or as cold-nipping frosts the Vineyards please. Beside that Kings themselves inur'd to leisure, Pleasing their senses with delights and pleausre, What things they most affect, th••y most approve: Hence wanton verse is made of lustful love, Of scurrilous discourse, of Ganymeds In Stews, of sloth, of most infamous deeds; Which for a modest Poet to dispence Were sinful, were a capital offence. But they whose warlike hands with Sword and Shield Have fought pitch'd Battels in a bloody field; Who man-like arm'd in steel their foes controll'd, And not effeminately sate in gold, Lov'd the grave Muses: And those noble Kings, Whose potent hands atchiev'd heroick things, Heroick Verses lov'd: But when (in fine) Those valiant men, those Spirits Masculine Were once declin'd, no subject then was found, Which Poets in their lofty strains might sound. Then fell the Poets wit, then Poesie With all her lofty strains did ruin'd lie. But if perhaps some King should now prepare For bloody Wars, should muster up with care Well armed Forces, should with hot Alarms Fierce Battels fight in honourable Arms: If careless of his honour, he neglects His Fame in Forraign Lands, or disrespects Ages to come, contented with such praise As present times and his own Subjects raise, Not valuing t'immortalize his Name By Poets, in the Registers of Fame; He's barbarous, and Verses doth detest, Or covetous, and doth himself inchest

Together with his gold, where drown'd he lies, And with the burning cares of Midas fries. And there are some that dare on Kings intrude A rude, Malignant, rustick multitude, Of jesters, wantons, Parasites, Compliers, Adulterers, Stageplayers, Scoffing Liers, These all hate vertue; these a thousand waies Drive Poets from the King; as from their preyes Crowes drive all other beasts and birds, when they Have found a new fall'n Carcase for their prey. And there some lawlesse, sawcy Poets are▪ Who rudely bred without a Master, dare What Kings affect (and Kings sometimes affect Ignoble things) in their weak dialect To write, to register; for Poets too Are mad sometimes; and these make much adoe, I know not with what levity of mind, To passe for Poets; These, when once inclin'd T' apply their mouths unto their trivial reeds Themselves applaud, and boast their verse, their deeds, Unelegant, conceitlesse, of no prize, Indocible, improvident, unwise. He that to these vain fellows hearkens much, Thinks the fault common, thinks all Poets such; So leaves the learned Poets; wanting skil To know the true from false, the good from ill.

Syl.

I by the Gods, and by the Olympick pow'rs O Candidus do swear, if Fates of ours Successful prove, I will thy wants supply, Mean time, till better times, live happily. Refuse not then a little while to joyne, For both our future goods, thine hopes with mine.

Ca.

If thus to me thou wish, I wish again Thou, O Sylvanus, maist thy wish obtain.

Syl.

I wish indeed, and long it shall not be Before I true performance make to thee.

Cand.

Go with a mischief, never to return

Most avaritious wretch, and quickly burn With Midas Fever, quickly turn to gold Like Midas whatsoe're thou touch, or hold, Or take, or tast; sith in the base esteeem Fair vertue, fouler then vile gold, doth seem.

The end of the fifth Eclogue.

ECLOGUE VI. Treating of the difference between Citizens and Husbandmen. Intitled CORNIX.

The Argument.

Cornix describes how different The Citizens and Rusticks be: Then taxeth in his argument The various Fooles of each degree.

The speakers Cornix and Fulica.

Co.

NOw winter snows, the Northern wind doth roar The Frozen icicles hang o're the door; The Ploughman with his Oxen take their rest The ground's asleep, and lies untill'd, undrest: The shepheard in his russet Coat doth close The sheepfolds, and doth sluggishly repose! Smoky Neaera sits before the fire, And pottage boyles; first Summers heat did tire, But now 'tis prais'd: And winter praised then Doth now displease, and is disprais'd agen. Inconstant thus the present times abhor That cold, which once they wish'd and hoped for.

Ful.

Good things expected seem more great, but lesse That good is thought, which present we possess: As at a distance burning lights appear Greater afar, and lesser when more near.

Cor.

Each season hath it pleasures, hath its joyes,

Look how the rough and ragged coated boyes, Uncomb'd, undrest, rejoyce when hogs are kill'd, They take the Bladder, and till it be fill'd With wind, their swelling Cheeks do puffe and blow The Bladder like a Belly: Beans they throw Into the Bladder, then it shines and sounds, They tosse it up, and catch it at rebounds: Now with their feet they kick it; by and by Their armes imbrace it: if aloft it fly, With stretchtout Fists they meet it, and again Repell it: if it fall, they run amain And mount it up; so toyling at their play, Running, returning, winter's worn away: The Country Football thus doth overcome The winters cold; but we sit here at home In better case, under a warm thatch'd roofe) Where (while the cold aloft is kept aloofe) We passe the time, and warm our selves the while Before the fire, until the milk do boyl.

Ful.

Cold winter doth our Poverty declare; Doubtlesse we young men all imprudent are, And all improvident; while Summer lasts We carelesse walk, forgetfull of the Blasts Of winter, all our Coin we cast away Upon a fidler for a little play. But when the Northern wind returns with Frosts From the Moscovian or Scythian Coasts, The trees unclothing, when the naked trees All leavelesse shew the birds nests built in these, We naked then are pinch'd with cold, our back, Feet, shoulders clothing, Food our bellies lack. Winter declares our foolishnesse; more wise Are Citizens, their heaps of money rise, They warmly cloth themselves, and furre their Coats With skins of Foxes, Lynxes, Lambes, and Goats.

Cor.

All men are mad; nor are we sole in fault: Yea rather greater madnesse doth assault

The Citizens themselves; but yet in this Fortune their mother, our Stepmother is. If haplesse Fortune us oppresse, our Fate Is madnesse then: make me but Fortunate, I shall be rich, I shall the chiefest be Within the City, all will rise to me, Will listen all: The vulgar then will stand, And men of middle rank with Cap in hand, They me wil honour; all the multitude Will ask my Counsel: and there will intrude Upon me for advise the Magistrate, The People, and the Senators of State.

Ful.

O Cornix, Cornix: 'tis not Fortune: 'tis The wiser soul of man that acteth this: Fortune can none or great, or happy make, 'Tis God that doth it; as Amyntas spake.

Cor.

Why, Fortune is a God; but tell I pray What did Amyntas of this matter say? For he was wise and learned, he did know The cause of things above, of things below, But yet, a little e're thou tell, go see The Fodderstalls, and how the Cattle be: Go quickly, quickly come; and heat thee so: Heat after cold's more sweet; go quickly, go.

Ful.

The snow's so deep, it reacheth to my knees: Our houses scarce will bear such loads as these: A towring pile, on yonder Chimnies head, Sharp pointed, mounteth like a Pyramid.

Cor.

Give Fodder to the Cattle in the stalls, Stop up with straw the Chincks about the walls; Which done, make fast the doors, make sure the Fold, Nothing doth hurt the Cattle more then cold. What art already come? Oh, what's this hast So much unwonted, that thou com'st so fast?

Ful.

Winter me careful makes in frost for fire; But 'tis more strenuous, and I more desire To make my lodging in the warmest hey:

There in an hollow bed my self to lay, 'Tis comfort after cold: I need no sheets. That bed is full of heat, is full of sweets.

Cor.

Begin, and what the diff'rent manners are Of Citizens and Country men declare.

Ful.

Thus then, this difference in each estate, Which did those two so much discriminiate Began, as our Amyntas did relate. In the beginning when things first began, The great Creator, God, Created man; And with the woman joyning him in love, That glorious Maker of the skies above (For thus Amyntas called God; this name I well remember yet) will'd them to frame Themselves to generate a noble breed Of Children, taught them how to raise their seed. They fall to work, and faithfully fulfill The Lords command: and would to God they still Had kept it, and not broke it, as they did By tasting the apples of the Tree forbid. The woman is a Mother now become, Brave boyes and girles did issue from her womb, And fruitful she by Childbirth ev'ry year A Child or Children, did successful bear: So that she multiplied the generations Of mankind by those frequent Propagations. The Lord return'd when thrice five years were spent; The woman as she sate within her Tent Dressing her Children, looking out before Perceiv'd him comming, almost at the door. Adam was absent: He secure did seed His bleating Flocks, no base adul'trous breed, No foul adult'rer was suspected then: But woman afterwards conjoyn'd to men By multiplied Marriages, the Trust Between them brake, and was deceiv'd by lust. Then Goates were made without apparant hornes,

The jealous husband then suspects and scornes His chast (perhaps) his loyall wife: Thus they That others wrong, think others them betray. The mother blush'd: and doubting lest (in fine) Her many Children were a pregnant signe Of too much Lust: with speedishe puts aside Some of her Sons, and them with hey doth hide, Stubble or straw: The Lord by this time came Into the Tent, bless'd all within the same: Woman, said he, produce thy children here, She then commands her eldest Sons t' appear. God smil'd upon them as we use to smile On pretty Birds, or little whelpes: the while He smiling said unto the first of them, Take thou the Scepter and the Diadem, Thou shalt be King: The glitt'ring sword and shield With other warlike weapons of the Field He gave unto the second: Thou, saith he, A Duke, and Captain in the wars shalt be. The peoples Axes, and their rods of broom, The gentle Vine, the darts of famous Rome He then produc'd, and on them all a row That then were visible, he did bestow Those noble gifts: when God had thus bestow'd Among the children there that then were shew'd The Regall Rule, the places of command, The Magistracy, silent he did stand, Weighing those honours he conferr'd on Man: Mean while the woman glad that things began So luckily, with speedy posture runs Unto the sheepcoats, and from thence her Sons Which there were hid and under Fodder laid She voluntary brings: and thus she said, These also be my Children, O no lesse Almighty Father these my Children blesse. Their bristled heads were white with chaffe, with straw, With Cobwebs foul their shoulders: which when saw

He did not smile on them, but casting down His troubled looks o'reclouded with a Frown, You smell (said God) of stubble, earth and hey; Yours then shall be the Goad, the Spade, the Clay, Your share shall be the Ploughshare, yours the yokes, Yours all the Tools of Tillage, Carts, Wheels, Spokes. Some shall be Ploughmen, some shall oversee The Cattle, some of you shall shepheards be. Some shall be mowers, some shall dig the ground, Some Seamen, others Heardsmen shall be found. But some of you we'l make of Cities free, Yet you but Botchers shall or Butchers be, Bakers or skullions, or the like by Trade Accustom'd to be sordid, onely made For daily labour; and (till death) at best You, servile, shall be servants to the rest: This said, th' Almighty reascended Heaven. Thus servitude was to the Country given, Thus, as Amyntas said, the diff'rence ran Betwixt the Citizen and Country man.

Cor.

I should have wond'red if Amyntas spake Ought that was right, or which for us could make: He was a Citizen; and City youths (That have no businesse but to forge untruths And foolish Fables) us incessant mock, And moke poor Country men their laughin stock. The Cities talkative and pratling veine, Such Fopperies and vanities doth feigne. Nor do they blush to frame these trifling lies Of the Supream-supernall deities. This jesting with the Gods ('tis manifest) Is rayling Blasphemy, no pleasing jest. But art so witlesse, do thy Tripes so swell Within thy belly, that thou canst not tell, Nor do'st perceive that while with Censures sharp These carpe at others, at thy self they Carp? But yet a little let's our selves apply

To note the Cities Follies, lest thine eye Deceiv'd (perhaps) with shews, should'st these men hold More wise, more happy that in burnish'd gold, Rich Purple, or fine Skarlet glitt'ring shine, I many men have seen with these mine eine In brave apparrel with Majestick pace Walking about the publick Market place, Whom secret hunger and domestick want Have sorely pinch'd, as if concomitant. Doubtlesse in this the greatest follies lie: For feyned wealth is reall poverty: And what doth sloth of life, or sluggishnesse But madnesse in reality expresse? I likewise have some Fathers seen (O vile, Unworthy, wicked men) who, that the while Themselves may neatly live, may sleep and play, Their faire••t daughters fouly do betray, Do prostitute to men of meanest race In Brothel houses: what more bad, more base; What more perfidious, what more foolish ever?

Ful.

But what it otherwise their best endeavour Could not support their lives with fit supplies?

Cor.

Why, sith they have as many soules, and eies, And hands as we, why should they not, in sort Like us with fit supplies their lives support? And some there are who madly seek in vain For wealth, where yet no mortal wealth could gain From the beginning: they their brasse and tin Wash with the juyce of herbs, and then begin Their chymick distillations, and are bold To think t' extract from thence most perfect gold. But (ah) from thence no gold they can exhale, Their metal with black duskinesse is pale. Some likewise are, that hidden gold to find Under the ground, the ground have undermin'd: Have us'd black Magick, and in inchanting spells, These time and labour lose, gain nothing else.

What more uncertain, what more vain those? What ever did more foolishnesse disclose? These all things, that they Country work may fly All things I say wil undertake, wil try, And to do nothing, all things will pretend: These ever are beginning, never end; By sinful Usury they dare extort Their infamous supplies, their base support, Their hooks with force, with cunning, with deceit Of Food, of maintenance; and alwaies bait A thousand waies for wealth, a thousand waies They seek for honours, how themselves to raise. We Country men keep Cattle, Goats, and Sheep; These dogs, hawks, horses, Apes, and Monkies keep. The shepheard feeds his Flocks and hea〈…〉〈…〉t these Feed Hawks and Hounds; judge now which most doth please, Which of these are more great, more noble things O Fulick? which most wealth, most profit brings?

Ful.

If from our labours greater wealth arise, Whence then have Citizens such store of prize?

Cor.

They gain by fraud, by cunning and by force: Force, cunning, fraud their labour is, their course. See'st not (thou fool) how cruelly they presse Us husbandmen, what baits for us they dresse; With what great craft they catch us? to provoke Our tongues to speak, what is not to be spoke, A sacrifice they think from them proceeds, Or else some pious, meritorious deeds, To compasse which, still prest at their command Are all their ears, their eies, their mouths, their hands.

Ful.

But how so wel acquainted hast thou been With the conditions of the Citizen?

Cor.

I learn'd this heretofore, when I my Goats Driving within the City from the Coats Sold there, my milk crying up and down. I sojourn'd with a Baker in the Town: A Crafty fellow, prompt to their, to guile:

That underpar'd his half bak'd-bread with File. He skilful in the City manners there Related this: and did, affirming, swear That then the City, nothing doth reveal More mischief, that he there did learn to steal. And some there are, that having great estate Left by their Predecessors, or the Fates, On whores profufely spend them. O then this, What more obscoene, O what more wicked is? Come, tell me where are murtherers? where's the trade Of 〈…〉〈…〉oring us'd? where is sedition made? Is't not among the Citizens resorts? Raign not those things within the City ports? What think'st of Kings, that others Kingdoms gain By blood, that force their subjects to be slain? What of the souldier that dares oppose His breast to naked swords? that undergoes A thousand dangers, one that for his pay Hazards his life, or throws his life away? Then this no greater madnesse; seeming glory (Though momentary, though but transitory) To life's preferr'd: a little praise they prize Above their lives, above their liberties. But what is glory? what is praise? what's fame? What's honour but a vain, an empty name? 'Tis but the opinion, but the voice, the vote Of the rude vulgar, which like froth doth float. These times to come will banish, will forget, All these will vanish when thy Life doth set: As when the setting Sun at night declines, The night comes on, the Light no longer shines. They that the Seas sail over when they may Live safe at land are fools: and fools are they That put their trust to water and to wind: So they that riches have, and have no mind T'imploy their riches are but fools; and those That for their children heaps of gold repose,

But pinch themselves, and their own bellies cheat Are greatest fooles: yet there's a fool as great That what himself might do, leaves to be done After his death by's successor or Son. They who the Starrs observe, and thence their Fate Suppose to comprehend or calculate Are Frantick fools: and he's more mad that pries Into Gods nature, or his secrecies: That dares upon that vast immortal light Fix his but mortal, and too feeble sight. Our faith is better: we believe by faith All that, though but in words the Scripture saith▪ The Citizen doth scarce herein assent, Though forc'd with reason and with argument: And on the sacred Altars one may ken More Lamps of ours then of the Citizen. Their faith is faithlesse too: they daily set Their minds to search into the Cabinet Of Gods decrees: But if't were fit to know Them, or his Person, God would please to show Himself and them: but sith his will implies They should be secret, what necessitie's We should desire to know those hidden things Which are deni'd us by the King of Kings: And our devotion for all pious deeds The City Pieties excells, exceeds: For what abundance of all sorts of grain, Of food, is gather'd in a day or twain From Country men, by those that ministring Within the Temple sacred Anthemes sing? My self have seen things so collected load Ful ships, which sail'd within the walls, and rode Within the Cities harbour: such the zeal Is of the Country for the Churces weal. And ther' another kind of fools, a sort Immedicable, yet of great report, Lawyers, Court brawlers, pleaders of a cause,

Skill'd to gain money, Tyrants of the Laws. They sel their Patronage for golden pay, To trifle Causes out with long delay, To make them long depend with a dilemme, A vanity is, a Vintage is to them. Another kind of fools on horseback are Unlearn'd Physitians, Mountibanks that dare Touch veines, sometimes unlawful for to touch These on diseases (understood as much By them, as by their horses) will impose Some new found names, their rash advise to close: These, though they grope in darknesse, ignorant Of what they do professe; yet have a grant Sick persons to torment, and at their wil Unpunish'd, whom they cannot cure, to kill. They that are rulers of the people, they That govern others, making them obey, The more command, the more of pow'r they have, The more insultingly they rage, they rave. O where are pious Rulers now, O where Do pieties and justice Friends appear, Whom (once) our Fathers sitting by the fire Were wont to name, remember and admire. All things go now to wrack: the Temple's spoil'd Demolish'd, ruin'd, robb'd, defac'd, defil'd, And of the wrongs complains: the poor lament, Sigh, groan: The widows weep with discontent. But what's the cause which doth these mischiefs cause? Because base Lust doth rule in stead of Lawes.

Ful.

O Cornix, this thy fury doth transcend The bounds of honesty: thou dost extend All sins against all men; remember well Some harmelesse men ev'n in the City dwel.

Cor.

In certain fields (I now forget their names) Near Baleares Iles, no snake inflames With stinging: For no snakes inhabit there: Nor Owles in Creete, nor horses will appear

In Arecina's or Aegeria's wood, Nor in City dwells a man that's good.

Ful.

Good men rare creatures, vertues are most rare, And in few Cities, in few Countries are.

Cor.

Th'art mad O Fulica, th'art mad: For thou As many foes hast in the City now As there are Citizens: they pil and pol Poor us without respect, without control, Us they constrain to steal, and then they send Our bodies to the gallows to suspend. 'Tis therefore just, nor is't against the Lawes That whatso're of theirs comes in our clawes We gripe, we shave it: and from them, from thence What e're we gain by craft or diligence To plume it lightly, softly by degrees: And if that any by misfortune sees The theft exceuse it, if unseen deny it. The theft that hidden is, no wrong comes by it. For whatso're the Citizens possesse Is all our labour, all our painfulnesse.

Ful.

Thou rovest now, now the most aequal line Of right and reason thou dost much decline.

Cor.

O Fulica, the wickednesse that raignes In Cities all the word defiles, distaines. Whence come in Summers prime those horrid stormes, Those flouds, winds, hail, and water which deformes The verdant Earth? I well remember, I Have seen the trembling Earth a quaking lie, Posts shaking, houses sliding as affright, I saw the Sun by day, the Moon by night Ecclips'd, obscur'd why do the tares ore' top The Corn, why spoil wild oates our harvest Crop? The Vince doth wiers bear in stead of grapes, Unwholsome cloudy-weather blasts, mis-shapes The vernall flow'rs: and all these ills, this curse The City sins produce, and will bring worse. Whence come tumltuous wars, and horrid armes

Which carry with them whatsoever harms, Whatever evil is? within the walls Of Cities, as from their Originalls, As from their Fountains all these mischiefs spring. Lycaon was a Citizen, a King. Deucalion, with his beloved wife Fyrrha, were Country dwellers all their life. That brought the deluge, this remov'd the same, That ruin'd mankind, this did man reframe. If ever (as they say) these goodly frames Of skies, Earth, Seas, shall be consum'd with flames This heavy judgement doubtlesse will come in For sins of Citizens, for Cities sin.

Ful.

O Cornix, let us put a period To this discourse: 'tis dinner time, and sod The pottage is: I heard the boy's e're while Speak of the Pottage: if of Cities guile There any thing remains unsaid, to say, Then speak it after dinner: come away, Let's go to dinner: 'tis an hour for meat Weel leave the Cities, and our pottage eat.

The End of the sixth Eclogue.

ECLOGUE VII. Treating of the Conversion of young men to Reli∣gion, when the Author began to take Re∣ligious Orders. Intituled POLLUX.

The Argument.

Here Galbula the Shepheards praise Mounts to the stars; relateth how Pollux by sight of sacred raies Converts, and doth Religion vow.

The speakers Alphus and Galbula.

Al.

WHat think'st O Galbula, that where of yore Pollux the best of pipers, and before The rest preferr'd, now suddainly retir'd, And, as't by some power divine inspird, His Pipes, Coat, Flocks and fellows he forsook, And to religious vows himself betook, His head doth wear an hood, his back a gown, Like a field Larke he looks with tufted Crown: Four daies before he did himself confine To the religious Cloyster, a divine, A sacred apparition, as alone He fed his Cattle in the pastures, shone Most clear about him, which (they say) he saw; And ever since from us he did withdraw. The rest I now remember not ywis; But what O Galbula, what think'st of this?

Gal.

As our forefathers did affirm long since (For I will utter things of consequence, Which learned Ʋmber did of yore relate) In the beginning, when mans first estate God did dispose and order, he did will Some should be shepherds, some the ground should till. He that the ground first till'd, war rude, sharp, rough, Like the stiff-stony ground that checks the plough: But the first shepherd was a gentle childe, Most like the sheep, the sheep (a creature milde) Which floweth milk, which are from choler clear: He (gentle) to no shepherd was severe, Oft from his flock he brought a sacrifice Unto the sacred Altar: There he fries A fatted Calf sometimes, sometimes a sheep, But oftentimes a lamb: He thus did keep A constant course of worship, that thereby He brought great honour to the Deity. He so prevail'd with God, so well appeas'd The Godhead, that the Deity was pleas'd From the beginning to this time to fence All Cattel with his careful Providence. God then some shepherds of Assyria chose, (The names I now remember not of those, Cares so distract my minde) made kings of them, And crown'd them with a Regal Diadem. Those (after) cloth'd in Purple and with Gold I saw, they conquer'd Nations proud and bold. When Paris saw three Goddesses (with joy) In Ida's Mountain near to famous Troy, Or Paris, or some one, that would (alas) Have sacrific'd his son, a shepherd was. When Moses, frighted with Coelestial fire, Went bare foot on the ground to see, t'admire The wonder, Moses was a shepherd then, Moses, extracted from the wat'ry Fen. Apollo from his Throne depos'd, exil'd

In Greece, and wand'ring up and down the wild Thessalian fields, a shepherd did abide, Laying the greatness of his state aside. When Christ was in the stable born, a Quire Of Heavens Angels, glorious in attire, Did to the shepherds in the sheep cotes sing The birth of Earths Redeemer, Heavens King. The shepherds having then that wonder heard Of Christs diviner birth, did not retard, But ran with speed, the ground they lightly trod, And were the first that saw the Son of God. That little Infant, which on high doth reign Sole King of kings, did to those shepherds deign Himself, his Cradle to behold, before The Wise-men or the Kings did him adore. And God himself, himself a Shepherd styles, Styles those his Sheep, those men who free from wiles Are of milde nature, of a lowly minde, Of upright heart, to no deceit inclin'd. And lest these words of mine thou should'st conceit As a vain dream, insolid, wanting weight, I'le tell thee more. As from the Town I came Into the Countrey, I beheld the same But very lately; I these wonders all Saw lively painted on a Churches wall. There Sheep were painted, painted were the Lambs, As if down lying by their bleating Dams: A num'rous Troop of gallant horsemen there, Dismounting from a Mountain, painted were, Whose Coroents did shine with burnish'd gold, A noble gallant sight; which to behold, Detain'd all passengers with wond'ring eyes. No marvel then if of the Deities Our Pollux one might see: For those above Love Villages, they sheep and sheep-cotes love. God present is with simple, single breasts, But (with deceit displeas'd) deceit detests.

Al.

Thou speak'st the truth, if that the Pastures prove Unhurtful to the Cattel of our Drove. I saw both Oxe and Asse, and Fodder-stall With those brave horsemen painted on the wall: I now remember what I then did eye Presented there in rich Imagery; I seem'd to see those Oriental Kings Presenting Gifts of Gold and precious things Unto the Babe. But one thing I intreat, O Galbula; which, if thou know'st, repeat. What Apparition was't, which did accost Our Pollux? Speak; think not thy labour lost.

Gal.

I do both know it, and it likes me well To tell it: 'tis a worthy thing to tell A thing well worth our hearing, a relation Religious, holy, worth our imitation. A sharp hard-hearted Father, and a proud, A rigid Stepmother, severely bow'd Our Pollux in his youth; his youth, the time When sweetest sweetned thoughts are in their prime. And when incessant labour had at length Much weak'ned his infirm, invalid strength: When by no means or art he could asswage His Step-dames malice or his Fathers rage, He did resolve to run away: but yet One thing his resolution long did let, And that was love; too passionate he mov'd, With too too much impatience he lov'd. Love is a Common Error, and appears With too much vigour in our youthful years. Love is a thing that's strong, but yet more strong Is violence of love, where lasting long. And when he was preparing to remove, (For he was us'd t'acquaint me with his love) With sad aspect, and lamentable grones, In these complaints he thus his love bemones: O Virgin, will not brinish tears be shed

From thy fair eyes, when thou shalt hear I'm fled? When thou shalt hear, that thou so soon bereft Of me so dear a friend, alone are loft? Wilt any sighes for my departure spend? Or wilt thou, cruel, me forget thy friend? What, can thy flaming breast so quickly freeze, That flaming breast of thine, which by degrees Inflam'd by love, so many times have fill'd So many's eyes with tears for thee distill'd? Wilt not thou frequent sighes and groans exhale From thy sad breast, and wilt thou not look pale? I see the Maidens eyes, her tears I see, I see the sorrows of her heart for me. Alas, alas! what art can I invent To palliate so great a discontent? A double grief mine heart hath over-laid, One for my self, another for the Maid: But I may weep, she not: yet fire, that lies Most hid, more hotly burns, more fiercely fries. Ye Gods preserve her safe for me, for mine; That when mine exile past, I shall confine My self at home, our (yet successless) love May once at least at last successful prove, Before old age too much come creeping on, Before the vigour of our youth be gone. Thus saying he went on; yet his desire Was to return, such is the force, the fire Of Love in youth: But now the Dice are thrown, And his resolv'd of flight to most was known. Tir'd out with grief and travel down he sate Under a frondent Poplar, consecrate To famous Hercules; and sitting there, Behold a comely Virgin did appear, Crown'd with a Maiden Coronet; her face Hands, eyes, and habit Nymph-like, full of grace: And to lamenting Pollux thus she spake, Whither (dear youth) do'st travel? O betake

Thy self to quick return; Return, I say. Thou knew'st not, (ah) thou know'st not how the way Deceives, or whither t'will thy steps mislead: Yet (ô) thou dar'st to wander, dar'st to tread In pathes unknown, supposing no deceit, No dangers in these verdant fields await, Thou think'st all safe; think'st (like a foolish youth) What pleases profits, falshood tak'st for truth. The stinging Snake collected in a round, Lies lurking in the grass upon the ground. Unwary persons soonest are beguil'd. When in the flaming fire the little Childe His harmless finger thrusts, he thinks no harm Is in the fire, he thinks it will but warm, Until he fe••l it burn, and then by sense, He knows and fears the flaming violence. This way with pleasing entrance doth beguile The passengers, and with delightful smile Shews seeming joyes: but entred in, when they Think there's no danger in that pleasing way, A thousand dangers, and a thousand snares Surprise them in their passage unawares. This path, assoon as yonder hill above Th'art over pass'd, points out a shady grove, Where herds of wilde and cruel creatures have Each one his darksome Den, his dismall Cave; This path leads thither: places for their scite Most horrid, darker then the darkest night. Who so deceiv'd goes thither, is forbid Thence to return, but is in darkness hid. And first his eyes are hoodwink'd with a rag Or fillet black as pitch; then him they drag Through all the woods, through stormy brakes, and then He's chang'd into a Monster from a Man. When he begins to speak, he roars or lowes, When to lift up himself, he thinks he bowes, And downward goes four-footed on the ground.

Unable to behold the starry round. The lower part of this black Valley shows A Lake, which Sea-like with black water flows: Above which over-hangs a mighty Mount, Where pitch-like waters run from cold black Fount. Those wretches hither drawn, are hurl'd from hence Precipitate with horrid violence Into the Stygian Lake, and deep Abyss; Where in devouring Whirl-pools they by Dis Ingulph'd, immerg'd, are huri'd from the light T'infernal Styx, and Hells eternal night. Alas, how many shepherds wit their flocks Have been insnar'd and perish'd on these rocks? I careful still unwearied here do stay T'assist, and to direct a better way. Delay not then, nor vainly spend thy breath, But O betimes of near approaching death The flatt'ring Courts abandon: Fly from hence, Seek safer Coasts of better consequence, Upon the private shore that lies oppos'd To Cyprus, whence Mount Carmel is disclos'd. Carmel that famous Mount, whose tow'ring head VVith stately Cedars is invironed. Here th'ancient Fathers (whom none parallels) Had at the first their first-retired Cells: Here were their houses made of frondent boughs VVithin the thicked woods where Ilex grows. And from this Mountain to your lesser hills, Religion was deduc'd; as brooks and rills Flow from an endless unexhausted Fount: And you from this Original may count A numerous, almost in num'rous breed, VVhich from this one Progenitor proceed. In these sweet woods, where in abundance grows The lofty Firre-tree, where with unctious boughs, The fat and oily Terebinth doth shine VVith sweating Rosin, Pitch and Turpentine.

VVhen thou shalt happily thy life conclude, Thine age shall in a moment be renew'd VVith change of years: Then I thee thence will bring To better places, ever flourishing: Thou shalt Immortal be, shalt from these clods Of earth, have fellowship among the Gods. Thou shalt have residence above the bright Refulgent stars, among the Nymphs in white; Among the Nymphs of Trees, the Nymphs of Hills; The Nymphs of Flow'rs, whence sweet perfume distils; VVhose heads are crown'd with odorif'rous slowers, VVith odorif'rous herbs; where thou the Powers That are above shalt see; where thou shalt know VVhat heavens are above thee, what below. This said▪ the Virgin vanish'd out of sight. Then Pollux swore his minde was changed quite, And that he suddenly was disingag'd From that (now conquer'd) Love wherewith he rag'd. As flaming fire if't chance to burn the fields Is quickly quench'd, and to the water yields, VVhen swell'd with floods th'unruly River Po His banks doth over-run, or overflow: So cruel love expires, which oft in vain His Quiver empts on those, that with disdain Resist Loves first beginnings, and do prove But timorous, or but luke-warm in love. And Pollux, thus discharg'd of Cupids fire, Into the silent Cloister did retire.

Al.

Some men there are on whom the Gods do smile, Yea though the men unwilling are the while: And some there are whom th'angry Gods assault, Although without a cause, without a fault.

Gal.

VVhat power over Cattel we possess, Th'Immortal Gods have over us no less. This is enough for Countrey men to know; Let Cities higher soar, and wiser grow. Janus the Priest so taught, when as he came

Out of the City, and affirm'd the same VVas on Record in a volum'nous Book, VVhere it he read, whence he that doctrine took:

Al.

The Sun is setting, and doth scarely gild The top of Baldus: Come, let's leave the field; 'Tis time to leave it with the setting Sun. Come Galbula, think not thy self undone To carry Bag and Bottle home at night; The Bag and Bottle empti'd are but light, To carry both at night the labour's small, Th'are pond'rous in the morning, but withall Th'are profitable burdens. Prethee come, My work shall be to drive the Cattel home.

The End of the seventh Eclogue.

ECLOGUE VIII. Treating of the Religion of the Coun∣try men, Intituled RELIGION

The Argument.

The Mountains Candidus, the dales Alphus commmends: then Candidus The Virgins praise and Festivalls That came to Pollux doth discusse.

The speakers Candidus and Alphus:

Ca.

THe torrid Earth (O Alphus) now the Sun Shines in the Summers solstice looketh dun Gaping for thirst: and now the the scorching blaze VVarns us to drive our Cattle hence to graze Upon the mountains, where lesse heat doth fry, VVhere moyst'ning dews upon the grasse do lie.

Al.

Those ay'ry Mountains, and high tops of hills I see far off; but what from thence distills, Or what the mountains are (to speak the truth) I know not; For I alwaies from my youth Have dwelt in vales; But tell, what fruit abounds, Or what's produc'd upon those hilly grounds?

Cand.

O rude, and unconceited witlesse head; What, wast thou born, and hast been ever bred Near brooks like more-hens, or in slimy vales, VVhence Phoebus such offensive Fumes, exhales VVhere in the Bogs among the stinking weeds,

Among the Willows and green paper-reeds That grow within the banks of foggy Fens, Frogs, gnats, flies, worms have lurking holes and dens? And dar'st thou then deride or vilipend, The Mountains, from whose flowing founts descend Such famous rivers? from whose Marble Mynes Such many pieces for the Temples shrines Are hew'd and polish'd? whose rich veins infold Rare Mettals, whence is digg'd refulgent gold? What grounds but mountainous bear fitting trees For shipping? what bear Physick herbs but these? Upon the top of Baldus heretofore Oft-times I gath'red have black Hellebore. No Med'cine is more Physical, more fit For Goats then this; Aegon commended it: Aegon the Valsasine, when in the Spring He gelt his Lambs and Swine, prescrib'd this thing; He then prescrib'd it, and thus said, Apply This for a sole and certain remedy. Come, tell me where more Chestnuts are, or where Is greater store of Acorns then are there? Upon high Mountains I my self have seen Clear Springs of waters, Pastures fresh and green; I there have Pasties ear, and from the pot Have fill'd my self with pottage fat and hot. strong people there inhabit, there the youth Is vigorous, and of gygantick growth: Their feet are large, like brawn their shoulders hard; Their stiff nerv'd arms strong sinews strongly guard; Hairy their skins, hands rough, for service able; To carry burdens indefatigable. They from those Valleys to these Mountains high, Resort, and to the Naval works apply. No kinde of men will fit the Town so well, Whether you Cattel geld, or Timber fell; Whether you cleanse the Stables, or the draught, Or kitchins, or stopp'd gutters that are fraught

With sordid filth, or whether to descend With longest ladders to the lowest end Of deepest wells to cleanse them; these herein Are expert, and for strength the wager win. But what need many words? themselves they fit For any labour, and accomplish it. In kitchins some are Cooks, some make the fire, Some turn the spit, some climb a little higher, And sweep the Chimnies; others carry forth Beeves bellies to the rivers: but their worth Excels in this, most skill'd they be to keep Foul places clean, foul houses clean to sweep. And, which I more admire, they run, they come Under their burdens as not burdensome. This people in poor Cottages are born, They live on steep hills sides among the thorn; And with the Goats inhabit as their guests, In horrid Dens of wilde, of cruel beasts. Adde here, that from the tops of Mountains high 'Tis a short passage to the starry sky: Some Mountains with their lofty Crests aspire Unto the Clouds, some other mounting higher Transcend the Clouds, and with their proud ascent They touch, I think, the spangled Firmament. There is a place (they say) that Eastward lies. Where from the seas the morning Sun doth rise, Which (if I have ic not forgot too son) With its aspiring top doth touch the Moon; And that long since a man there liv'd and dwell'd, But for his gluttony was thence expell'd, Because that he devour d all th'Apples there, And none reserv'd for mighty Jupiter. Hence the divine and holy Fathers chose Retired houses, places or repose Among the Mountains: This do well attest Carthusia, Carmel, Gargan; with the rest Athos, Laverne, Laureta, Sina' Mount,

High topp'd Soractis shady vale and Fount, Those Mountains famous by the fact and fate Of old Nursinus, and that hill of state Towred Camaldula, whose sacred head VVith lofty Fir-trees is invironed. The rest I passe: for 'tis not mine intent To speak of all in this short argument: Celestial Creatures towring Mountains haunt; Whereas the Duck, the Goose, the Cormorant, The Snipe, the Bittern, Kites and moorish hens Are ever padling in the foggy Fens.

Al.

Among these praises of so great renown With which thou dost the craggy Mountains Crown, Why speak'st thou not of corn, or of the vine? Yet these two noble creatures Corne and Wine Are the two chiefest Pillars, whose supply Supports Mans Life in his Mortality. The Mountaineers as soon as corn is shorn Descend their hills into our vales for Corn: Men of a rigid and severe aspect, Of smoaky colour, rustick dialect, Leane, hairy, ragged, thirsty, full of wants; The places natur's known by the Inhabitants. But now thou speak'st of religious halls Upon the Mountains, it to mind recalls The strange reports we did of Pollux hear: What Nymph, or O what Goddesse did appear To Pollux, tell (O Candid) if thou know From our discourse of hills and vales doth grow No profit: but the benefit is great When of Religion our discourse doth treat.

Cand.

Thy Galbula, that wont with thee to keep To drive to grasse the Cattle and the sheep, Could satisfie thy wish, thee could acquaint With th' apparition of that Nymph-like Saint

Al.

He many things of Pollux did unfold, But of that Saint-like Nymph he nothing told:

Nor I (as I remember) did inquire: But talking of Religion now doth fire My soul, doth to my mind that Nymph recal, Whose praise I count the greatest praise of all.

Ca.

She was no Goddess of the Mounts or trees, Nor of the Muses: she was none of these: But she dismounted the supern••l skies, Queen Regent of Coelestial deities: She mother of the mighty Thunderer, Descended Heaven, that she might confer Peace to the gasping youth; at her command Tethys and Ceres as attendants stand, And Aeolus himself, that strongly binds In darksome Caves the ranging raging winds. Her, God above the stars, above the Sun, Above the glitt'ring Constellation Of Cassiopey hath lift, hath bound her Front With Oriental stars incircl'd on't: And that she might eternally be grac'd The silver Moon under her feet he plac'd.

Al.

O Candidus, thou speakst of wonders rare, Unheard, unknown of Shepheards; but declare What's Tethys, what's refulgent Cassiopey? Who's Aeolus whom all the winds obey, That bridles up the winds in concave cells? What are those horses of the Sun? come tell's, Great matters and unknown thou dost unfold.

Ca.

Some part of them are stars, some name of old. All which when Pollux had me shew'd and taught, Within a sacred Temple he me brought, Where all these things were painted on a wall: This wall (quoth he) thee will inform of all. The wall was painted, gilded curiously With many Pictures, much Imagery; I do not all remember, dull and weak My memory's become: though I now speak I scarce remember; though I often fit

My minde to ponder, and reponder it. Oft to consider, and remember well, More strong then Physick is, or Magick spell. When with dark Clouds the skies are mask'd in black, This Nymph can clear the Clouds, or chace them back. She the dry'd fruits, half dead for want of rain, Can with refreshing showers revive again, She from the parcht-up pastures when she will Can raise fresh founts, can rain on them distil, And those rais'd founts, or rain distill'd she can, When ere she please, restrain from fields, from man. Of barren grounds that bare no grass ere-while, She when she will can make a fertile soil. When that cold Planet, that malignant star Of luckless Saturn culminates so far As Scorpius, and in that dismal signe Hath entertainment with his pallid shine, No storms of hail the Corn shall spoil, no fire Shall houses burn; though, when those stars conspire Th'incensed heavens (as they say) such scars Dejaculate on th'earth from th'angry stars. All this that Virgin-Nymph (her Sexes Gem) Can keep from us, and us preserve from them If she but favour us, our harvest Crops Shall fill our barns and garners to the tops. And all the pregnant Cattel of our flock Shall bring forth Twins, and multiply the stock. If Cattel thrive not, or their fleeces shed, She, solely with the nodding of her head Can Milk, Fleece, Lambs restore; can with her art The Cattel cure, and each disease divert. There's how no need to follow rustick Pan, Or any rural Gods, which foolish man Did (as it is reported) heretofore With much devotion, but in vain, adore. In Circle of the Nymphs rich Altar there, Wax Pictures pendant were, which shapes do bear

Of Goats, Waynes, Oxen, Sheep; I did denote And view them well; I there saw Janus Goat Modell'd in wax; and I remember, I Read on a painted Tablet (hanging by) Inscribed thus in Verse, Here view the vote That Janus paid for his preserved Goat. And while I this read over by degrees, Pollux devoutly falling on his knees Upon the Marble pavement straight before That Altar; he the Nymph did thus implore, O Goddess, Governess of Towns and Franks, We pray thee let not Po swell ore his banks: Let not, O let not the Nocturnal Hag Our tender Infants through black darkness drag: Let not Hobgoblins, nor the walking Sprite Frequent our streets by day, nor house by night. O Goddess, favour Husbandmen, destroy The Moles, whose heap'd-up hills the fields annoy: Remember (Nymph) when winter sharply blows To cover all the Corn with dews, with snows. O let no Vermin when the Corn is shorn, The next ensuing year devour the Corn. The Northern winds from growing Figs restrain; From Cranes the Beans, from Geese defend the grain: From Serpents Oxen, from the subtle Fox, The subt'ler thief, preserve our herds, our flocks; The fruits from Canker, Vines from hail and storms; From Wolves the Cattel keep, from herbs the worms: Our Dogs from madness, from fierce flames of fire, From Lightning keep our Villages intire. Our Bacon from the Mice and souldiers keep; From worms, and from the things that slowly creep, That slowly creep (alas my stupid minde Hath lost the rest, forgets what's left behinde. But verse hath often to my memory) Reduc'd forgotten things: Ile turn and try Those measur'd numbers, I by them may chance

Oblivion, chace, remembrance readvance) Our Bacon from the Mice and souldiers keep, From worms, and from the snayles that slowly creep Our gardens guard; (se'st Alphus, se'st thou not The force of verse; I've got what I forgot, And now remember all the rest in fine) From roaring thunder keep our Buts of wine: From cold our Ewes with yong when frost do freeze, Our Calves and Cattle rescue from the Breeze; Our hogs from swelling Squinzies in their throats; From losse of labour in their rurall Cotes Assist O Goddesse our inurbane swains; O from the drone among Bees that drains Their honeycombes defend the Bees; Defend Our Pease from thievish birds; thine help extend To keep the Fleeces of our sheep from rhorne, From Burrs to keep our wooll unshorn or shorn. O Goddesse, O of men the governesse, Poets Protectresse, easer or distresse, Griefes med'cine, Patronesse of Flocks, of Cotes I pray thee grant our Prayers, grant our votes. Thus Pollux praid; I leaning to the post Casting my stretch'd out legge my staffe acrost, Mark'd well his words; and with great care uplaid In my remembrance all the words he said.

Al.

O Candidus, think'st not that some reward Pollux should have for his so great regard, For's pious prayers, for's religious love? Our goodness doubtless doth goods improve,

Cand.

Why should we not give him somthing for it? That we should cratefull be 'tis very fit.

Al.

Rustick; Thou cratefull dost for gratefull call.

Ca.

Cratefull between and gratefull th' ods is small. We must give something; yet lest twice we give, Let Easter passe, what time the Priests do shrive Offendors, and absolve them from their crimes.

Al.

What shall we give (a Calfe's too much these times)

A Lambe, or Hare? Our pieties intent Is laudable, if but a goose be sent.

Cand.

The season shewes the gift: when winters snow Stops hares from running, then an Hare bestow. A goose with Autumn and November shapes: The Summer gifts are Filberts, Apples, Grapes. A sucking Kid or Lamb are for the spring: Then if thou dost perceive a whinderling Among the late fall'n Lambs, that doth not thrive, That will not well be sold nor kept alive, We'l give that gift; That gift when e're it falls Will well enough befit their Festivalls. And after dinner when my leave I took, He gave me verses, copi'd from a Book Of all the Virgins solemn Fasts and Feasts; Thus saying, when Corroding care molests Thy mind, these verses sing: and thou shalt find These verses med'cines for thy care-sick mind. When Titan from the Lion doth decline, And headlong enters into Virgo's signe, Let age and youth rejoice; the virgin's plum'd With Angels wings, is to the Gods assum'd. Thrice eight daies after she forsook this Earth, Another feast is solemniz'd, the birth Of that unspotted Virgin: then with fires Her Altars flame: the Priest adores, admires, Offers new sacrifices: whiles the Sun Returns to Libra, where he swift doth run Preparing t' aequiballance daies and nights, Picenum then exults with new delights: Epirus ships transport (with swelling pride) Their Epirots on th' Adriatick Tide. The Thuscans, Ʋmbrians, Venetians then, With those of Sicily bring wares and men; All which in multitudes with gifts from home Unto the Temple of Lauretta come; Where having paid their vows, they joyfull rise

And on the lofty Mountain Merchandize, And when the Sun his longer course doth vary, And in a shorter enters Sagittary: When the tempestuous Northern wind bestrews The frigid fields with hoary Frosts and dews, The Vestalls to their private Cells confin'd, Forgetting their own Parents, onely mind The Virgin Saint, and with their whole intent Her sacred presentation represent. And when the Sun from half-horse-Chirons bow Flies languishing, and enters (as below) The winters signe of Icy Capricorne, Let men and women then themselves adorn In rich apparel, let them then begin To celebrate with joy that day wherein The Virgin was conceiv'd, that holy day The sacred Nymphs beginning did display: Who from her first beginning, from a child With base Immundities was not defil'd. When scorching Phoebus all inflam'd doth fly, To cool his heat in humid Aquary, Returning towards, and now near the spring All ye that married are go speedy, bring To the Altars sacred fire, and to the fire Bring Frankincense; exalt your torches higher: Be pompous and triumphant, for this day The Virgin in the Temple did display Her Motherhead: strange things did then betide, A Virgin mother there was purifi'd, When Phoebus enters Aries, the Flocks Conductor, shining with his golden locks, Beginning to disclose the new-come year With western winds which blow more warm, more clear, More hours adding to the day then night, Let then the wing'd Paranymph inlight The Virgins house, and those strange things he said Annunciate unto the wondring Maid.

This Festival the people drawes by flocks From Arnus river, and the Thuscan rocks To solemnize it, at the Virgins shrine, Within the Temples of the Florentine. And then, but yet not long before that tide The Virgin was espous'd, and made a Bride This holy day the maiden Nymphs doth call To celebrate this solemn Festival. When the refulgent Sun is entred in To Cancer, and the dog-star doth begin To breath diseases, then sweet incense burn To celebrate that day, which did return The Virgin-mother home, from visiting That other mother: then to the Altars bring First fruits of corn, and hang them round the Rood In honour of the double Motherhood. These Verses Pollux gave which he did write, When in the fields he watch'd his Flock by night, When in serener Nights he did survay The glittering stars, heavens armies in array. He then more verses gave; but now no more We can repeat: the Sun below the shore Declines; bright Hesperus begins t' appear Suppressing Phoebus from our Hemisphear.

The End of the eighth Eclogue.

ECLOGUE IX. Treating of the manner of the Court of Rome, written by Mantuan after his entring into Religious orders; Intituled FALCO.

The Argument.

When Faustulus had well survai'd Romes frigid Pastures, he begins To tax the Pastors (unafray'd) For their enormities and sins

The speakers Faustulus and Candidus.

Fa.

WHat chance, O Candidus, thee brought so far From thine own Country to this place? here at No brooks, no Pastures, no refreshing springs, No sheepcotes safe, no cooling shadowings: And yet those grounds are daily graz'd by sheep.

Cand.

O Faustulus our Coridon did keep, Great droves and herds of Cattle here, while ere Much gaining by the Cattle he did rear; And he perswaded me that on these hills Grew wholsom grasse, that here were pleasant rills, But when I once perceiv'd these barren Mounts, These craggy Rocks, these water-wanting Founts, That I did leave my Country, that I went So long a journey, I did much repent.

Fa.

Sith 'tis thy chance so safely with thy droves To travell unto these Italian groves,

Thou maist by right of former friendship come Unto mine house, and make mine house thine home; Here some few acres of poor ground have I, Which scarcely will my livelyhood supply: What e're it be, betwixt thy self and me Suppose it common; thou perhaps maist see Some lucky fortune; fortune like the wind Though variable, may to good be inclin'd. Until the scorching heat doth overpasse, And while our Cattle, lying on the grasse In the cool shadow, chew their Cud, come in My Cottage, thatch'd with sedge; on yonder pin Hang up thy scrip, thy sheepheards crook lay by, Sit down a While; with drink refresh thy dry, Thy thirsty throat; drink's needful, come, assay This liquor,'twill thy burning heat allay; Here take thy cup; do not thy drink decline, Our tongues wil be more fluent after wine.

Cand.

What mad man in such heat will drinking spare▪

Fa.

Wind cools the thirst, and frees the mind from care, Wine, Friendship, and the bodies strength augments, Contents the tast, abandons discontents.

Cand.

This Country bears good grapes, if that the vines Within this Country grow that made these wines.

Faust.

Come, fill thy cup again, it is no wast, To drink one draught of wine is but to tast, The second moists the mouth; the scorched throates, The third refrigerates; the fourth denotes Arms and Alarums to thirst the fifth doth fight; The sixt doth conquer; and (as some do write As old Oenophilus doth well relate) The seventh over thirst triumphs in state.

Cand.

'Tis safe to follow sound advice; 'tis good I imbrace grave Councellors (if understood) My thirst is quench'd; but there remains behind My care-corroded heart, my pensive mind.

Faust.

It's wine allayes•• thy thirst, so 'twill in sine

Allay thy pensive mind; come, fill thy wine, Come fill thy wine, and drink this med'cine cures The grief of heart, against all cares ensures: This med'cine Rome it self doth use as chief Against corroding care, consuming grief.

Cand.

Each work and labour hath its intervalls Of rest, and for repose and Respite calls: Let rest the flagon here a little while, And cover it; lest it the flies defile. No rain by day, no dew by night's here seen, Nor in dry Cottages can herbes grow green. Fierce famine, daily labours, scorching air With leanesse do the Flocks impeach, impair: Their fainting spirits scarcely can sustain Their feeble bodies: their thin buttocks strain Their stretch'd out bones within their arid hides; Their empty bellies clunge up to their sides Contract their hollow Bowells: see this Bam More fearful now then is the fearfull'st Lamb, More weak then is a sheep, was wont of yore With head and hornes the wolves to beat, to gore. All which the lucklesse Crow, with haplesse prate Dvining, did to me prognosticate. But me my fervent votes too much did sway: I scarce was out of doors upon my way, But that unlucky bird with sad portent Flew from my right, and to my left hand went, And sate a top on the sinister side Of my poor Cottage; where extending wide Her craking throat, she did-forbid thereby My journey with apparant Augury. Ah haplesse cattle, which were wont t' abound With Milk and young, when in your native ground You graz'd and fed; now seeking grasse in vain You lose more juice by going, then you gain By feeding; here both we consuming are, You with bare pasture, I with bitter care.

O riches of our Country! O the Meades Still flourishing! O grasse that overspreads The Frondent fields! O pastures past compute; O Fertile soil, and never wanting fruit! There crystall brooks and running Rivers glide, Wat'ring fields, gardens, Towns on ev'ry side. There are fat Cattle, Fertile fields are there; When Sol in Cancers Tropick doth apear. When ev'ry where the thrashing floors resound; When July burns, our fields with green are crown'd; The checquer'd hedges made of tender twigs, Bear berries there and Apples, grapes and Figs: There spring among the thornes sweet smelling flowers; O the delightful shades of woods and bowers! O the soft whispers, gentle murmurs there, Which (I remember) thou and I did hear In the cool shadows of the Turtles grones, The swallows chatt'ring, and the tuneful tones Which musick-making Philomel did sing, When first the shrubs with grasse-hoppers did ring! The gentle air by leaves of trees increast Breath'd pleasing murmurs from the blushing East. There the wild Cherry trees producing berries. Spread out their branches laded all with Cherries; I lying on the ground, saw where I lay The skipping cattle to rejoice and play; I saw the frisking Lambes leap here and there, And butting with their horns to run Carrere. When slept, I had upon the grassy ground, Sometimes with face erect my Pipe I'd sound, Or with my voice would sing; somet-mes i'd pick The ripened strawberries which the••e grew thick.

Faust.

Thou then might'st happy live, then fortunate Thou mightest be call'd; but that thy good estate Decause thou then did'st underprize (For thou Bidst never of misfortunes tast till now) Thee therefore thy good fortune left; but when

She comes again (if e're she come agen) As with their wiers Vines on all that's near Catch hold, and closely to th' next elmes adhere: So catch her fast, nor loose her caught: her face She changeth oft, she comes and goes apace, She's never constant; like Nocturnal haggs Who walk (they say) by night disguis'd in raggs Through dismal shades; and as her face doth vary, So doth her mind rejoice when things miscarry. What she did give, she takes; nor doth she advance. Her acts with judgement, but doth all by chance She doth repel, repulse, despite, despise All those that are too fearful, or too wise.

Cand.

As oft as on my memory recoyle The delicacies of my Native soyle; So many tortures in contented sort I cannot bear. But whither doth transport Me my disquiet mind. Now, 'drench'd with gall Of sad misfortunes, I to mind recall My former happy times; which thoughts do vex My pensive soul, and me do more perplex. Now May comes in, and in my Country now The lowly Brooms, the lofty vines do blow Along the banks of Po, the pastures sides Where Mincius with silver'd water glides: There now the Corn is ear'd; with blossoms red, Pomegranate trees now there are all bespread: The frondent Alder there (this month of May) Doth sweet-white Flowers on each hedge display. But here as yet the Mountains are not seen Beginning to bud forth with any green. And if the ground so backward proves in spring, What will cold winter and hot summer bring, When hoary winter doth cold frosts repeat, And Summers Solstice burns with raging heat? Yet here some heards of smooth-skin'd cattle are, Whose soft unwrinkl'd necks the yoke ne'r bare,

Whose lofty Front aspires with double horn, Whose wanton breasts on dainty beds are born: Unlesse these Fodder eat that's good, that's choic'st Their bodies cannot be so fat, so moist.

Fa.

This herd of Cattle that advance their Crest Higher then th'earth, and higher then the rest That have long jointed thighes, devour up all: First grasse, then leaves of trees, anon the tall, The topmost branches of the greenest groves; But these poor Cattle, these infeebled droves That onely graze the ground for their repast, Are in these barren fields compell'd to fast,

Ca.

But what need words? all creatures are the same, For still the greater do the lesser tame. Wolves feed on Lambs, Eagles on Pidgeons prey; The Dolphins in the Seas course, chase away The smaller fishes. How comes this about? A most prodigious thing it is no doubt. If thou these places at a distance ken From some high Rock, thou wilt suppose them then Fat pastures, full of grasse: but come more near, More bare these places, and more base appear.

Fa.

Rome is the same to men as is an owl To birds; she sitting as the Queen of fowl, And proudly nodding on some wither'd stock Calls multitudes of Birdes, which thither Flock All ignorant of fraud; where in amaze At her foul head, great eies and ears they gaze They wonder at her hook'd beaks threatning top And on the branches while they skip and hop Now here, now there, the Nets intangle some, The limetwigs others; all that thither come Are overcome, are made the Fowlers prey, And to be rosted, thence are born away.

Ca.

O this is pretty; nor at any time Could any thing be spoke more fit, more prime. But O look yonder where a snake doth thrust

Himself with crooked windings through the dust, And thirsty with his thrust out tongue doth beat The liquid aire, to cool his scorching heat.

Fa.

O Candidus, what I forewarn thee now Remember well: when thou the go'st through, Guard with thine hat thine eies, for there the brakes Extend sharp pointed thornes which bite like snakes, Whose crooked Brambles cloaks and cloths do tear: Lay not thy sheephook down, nor yet forbear To bear hard stones, and arm thy self with those, Lest on a suddain thee new foes oppose. Cover thy feet with shoes: for there the brakes Are full of horrid and invenom'd snakes; Whose bitter bitings kill: and now more long, More hot the daies, their poyson is more strong. A thousand wolves, as many Foxes dwell In dens within these vales; and which to tell Is strange and fearful, I my self have seen (This climate is so violent and keen) Ev'n men themselves transform'd into the shapes Of wolves, and wolfe like acting cruel rapes Of their own Flocks; and O with too much blood Of their own Cattle drench'd, as with a Flood. The neighbourhood observe and laugh at those, But nor detest the sin, nor it opposee. And Monsters oft in wond'rous formes appear, Which th'ill aspected Earth produceth here. And oftentimes the dogs so madly rage, That they with cruelties, with bloody strage Outstrip the Wolves themselves; and they which wont To guard the Flocks, and thence all vermine hunt, Are vermine turn'd, and hostilely prepar'd Devour those sheep which they themselvs should guard. Aegypt (as't is reported) heretofore Some certain Beasts did for their Gods adore: Their Superstition, yet is lesse then ours: Here, not some certain beasts, but all have Towers,

Fanes, Altars; doubtlesse a most hateful thing To God and nature: who made man a King, And subordain'd (as histories record) All earthly Creatures unto man their Lord. And oft a sickly Summer enters here, Which doth produce a pestilentiall year: Then in the field the fainting cattle lie, Cast down and dead: the Lambes do bleat and die Under their mothers Udders; Oxen tire, Supprest with heavy burdens, and expire. Nor hath the sicknesse mean, nor cure the Pest: But this house doth that house infect, infest, The next house from the next attracteth death: And thus the plague gains daily strength and breath. This plague wild Beasts doth yet but seldom kill, But sweeps away the better Cattle still; The wolves with sharpned teeth and rav'nous throats Keep Festivalls within our sheeplesse Cotes: And with our losses are these beasts inrich'd.

Ca.

Alas, alas; what fury me bewitch'd? What headlong madnesse hither poor me drew? Great madnesse 'tis to credit, to pursue Deceitful fame: when I but understood, But heard of Roman hills, of Tybers flood, Of Romes fair buildings (by the mouth of Fame) My mind was all inflam'd to see the same, And there among so many things of praise To spend the short remainder of my daies, I madly came with half my Flocks; my Tents, My sheepheards tools, mine houshold implements, My milk pailes, pans, pots, kettles, beechen vates, Wherein the maid her Cheeses circulates, Over high hills I brought: and now my cost, And now my labour all at last is lost. O whither shall I turn? what shall I do? The pastures which I brought my cattle to; The Fodder which I hop'd for, is deni'd:

So many chances are on ev'ry side, So many dangers; I must (in distresse) Return into my Country, must confesse Mine ill-advis'd attempt, and must retreat Ore stony Mountains through laborious heat. Ah haplesse sheep; O shepheard, from afar Misguided hither by some lucklesse star! Much better had it been t' have never known This Country, but t' have staid within thine own; Securely there in some refreshing Cave T' have spent thy daies till age brought on thy grave, And there to sit, and there thy Flock to feed With wholsome grasse which our rich pastures breed Along the banks where silver Padus glides, Or where fair Athesis from Trent divides, Verona's soil; Or in the fields more green, More known, where chrystal Mincius runs between, Or where swift-running Abdua doth dance On glassy waters to the Realm of France.

Fa.

Thee thine, and me mine own credulity Doth oft deceive; I've seen men mounted high Upon the top of Fortune, when their pride Would higher clime to tumble down beside Their expectation, and could never rise. Experience makes men wary, makes men wise; These try before they trust; they follow not All specious things; the better things have got The letter praise; there where (I do confesse) Some that their names retain, their Fames no lesse. All things do by vicissitudes excel Those Cities whereof Ʋmber us'd to tell, Troy, Luna, Adria, Salvia have but names, Time hath expung'd the rest of all their Fames. If (now perhaps) our Country doth decrease In greatnesse, yet her goodnesse doth not cease. There's none in all the world but knows how great Romes glory sits in her majestick seat;

Indeed the fame thereof remains alone, But all the former benefits are gone. Those unexhausted Founts which wont of yore To water all these pastures with their store, Want water now themselves; their arid veines Exhausted are; no cloud upon them raines. No grounds here Tyber waters with his Flucts; Consuming time our ancient Aqueducts Hath totn in pieces; Time (that all devoures) Hath ruin'd all our Castles, all our Towers, Hence, hence; O far, far hence ye Goats avant, Here's onely pining Famine, pinching want. Yet (as 'tis fam'd, and as our selves have seen) Here dwells a gallant shepheard on a green, Who from a Princely bird his name derives; One rich in sheep and pastures, one who thrives, Who for his verse th' old Poets doth excell, And Orpheus, that Orpheus, who from Hell Fetching his wife, attracted with his song The trees and stones to follow him along. He for all vertue, for all pious deeds All other Latians excells, exceeds, As much as Po doth Tiberis excell, Or as sweet Roses stinking weeds for smell; As Abdua Macra, or as willows high, Low Bullrushes, tall Poplars, Organy. We count him like that Prince, to whom of yore Learn'd Tytirus for twice six daies (or more) The sacred Altars smoak'd with sweet perfumes; Hee's keeper of the sheep, no wolfe presumes To worry them; more watchful he's, more wise Then Juno's Argus with his hundred eies, Then Daphnis he's more learn'd; and not alone More learn'd then him, but then that leaned one Who kept ('tis said) of old among the swains Admetus herds in the Thessalian plaines. He's worthy to take charge of all the breed

Of Salenus Master, worthy to succeed That venerable Father, who to keep Th' Assyrian Flock, to feed th' Assyrian sheep Forsook his nets, forsook his ship, forsook His All; and to the sheep himself betook. He can the Flock defend, can cure their wounds, Can madefie the drought of parched grounds, Fresh pastures he can give unto the Flock, He can the Fountains open and unlock; The Favour he can impetrate of Jove, And from the Flock can thieves and wolves remove. If he the favour stay; But, if he frownes; Hence (Candid) with thy sheep to better downs.

The End of the ninth Eclogue.

ECLOGUE X. Treating of the Controvesies between the obser∣vant and non-Observant Friers, written by Man∣tuan after his taking Religious Ord••rs; Intituled BEMBUS.

The Argument.

The Poet now the difference Of false and true Religion notes: And rightly doth distinguish thence Yhe sheep of Carmel from the goates.

The speakers Candidus, Bembus, Batrachus, Myrnix.

Ca.

GReat discord (Bembus) hath arose between The shepheards of the Galilaean green, And the rough Mountaineers of Palestine; To this side Batrachus doth most incline, Myrmix to that; their arguments are fit For disputation; both, themlselves submit Unto thy Judgement; briefly they'l declare Their Arguments, that thou thine ear wilt spare, And if no greater businesse thee withhold, Thou Father art of Prophets, know'st of old To settle brawlings, discords to compose, And with fair language foul debates to close. Thou likewise (as 'tis Fam'd) hast drank the wine Of Hippocrene, hast seen the Muses nine, Those Goddesses who keep that sacred Fount, Eurotas Lawrells, and Parnassus Mount,

Hast seen where self Apollo with his boughes Offrondent Lawrel did surround thy brows, Where many gifts he did on thee confer, His harpe, his Lute, his Iv'ry dulcimer.

Be

Come, freely speak; sith now this freez'ng day Compells us by the warmer fire to stay; While winter bars our Flocks to range the grounds, While Boreas his frigid blasts resounds, While bitter frosts benum the better soile, While Icicles hang dangling at the tile, While Rivers with their frozen waters keep Their dull and drowsie Channells, as asleep Under their Icie pavements; we condemn All leisures which no businesse act in them.

My.

We shepheards, haplesse men, in summers shine Walk stragling; careful lest out Flocks should pine; But when cold weather makes us keep within, Then discontents and brawling-strifes begin.

Ba.

They that presume authentick Rites to change At their own pleasure, and themselves estrange From Laws observance, these those parties are, O Myrmix, who beget domestick war.

Be.

And is your strife about the authentick rites, The customes of (those ancient Proselytes) Your Fathers? Then, O Batrachus, declare What are those rites, and what those customes are. Declare why from Phoenician soil you came To this our Country; I well knew the same, I saw those Pastures, I those fields have seen With unexhausted moisture cloth'd in green. There from the top of Carmels Mount doth spring A Fount of Christall waters, watering With bubbling streams the thick adjoyning woods. I saw the River Jordan, in whose Floods That great and famous shepheard, heretofore His sheep immerging cur'd their curelesse sore. This River rising, running down the sides

Of Libanus, with full fill'd current glides Along the Galilaean fields, and makes An ample Sea with its conjoyned Lakes: And running thence again, it makes again With its united floods a spacious Main, Near to that City, which (as stories Fame) Tiberius Tiberia's did name: And running thence again, at length it falls (Leaving behind the Jerichonian walls) Into th'infamous Lake Asphaltites. By this, and by such other things as these 'Tis prov'd enough that we these Coasts have seen; This speak, and end at length your strife, your spleen.

Myr.

Bold Batrachus doth still himself obtrude With brasen face, and more then rashly rude, Prefers himself to me with great ostent.

Bat.

I nor obtrude my self, nor argument, But, as commanded by the Judge, proceed.

Bem.

Lay down thy sheephook Myrmix, and (with speed) Thine also Batrachus lay down; your parts You must not plead with arms, but upright hearts. Speak Batrachus; Myrmix the while forbear, That you may better answer what you hear. He's mad that's cholerick; and he that's mad Is of so much impatience, is so bad, That not his heart he can, nor tongue restrain, His acts are foolish, and his words are vain.

Bat.

Bembus, I will relate, I will recall Our Ancestors and their originall, We from Assyria came, as Candid prov'd: Elias is our Father, we remov'd All kinde of ill from shepherds with strong arms, VVho fire from heaven brought with heavenly charms Of fervent prayers. Thither and, or higher Ascended in a Chariot of fire. A Noble this, this is an ancient Line Of famous Parentage, almost divine.

All other shepherds wheresoere inliv'd, Are but as Rivers from our Founts deriv'd: We gave thrm Laws, we taught them th'art to breed, To feed their flocks; they then muchmore exceed In sin, who being Prime in Order loose Their Primacy, while unadvis'd they choose, And inconsiderate attempts pursue, We roots, boughs, others are: and we ('tis true) Are also boughs which from the root did sprout Of our forefathers, now with age worn out. Elias to the shepherds gave a sure, A never-erring art, whereby to cure Their crazy flocks, whereby to learn to know What fodder hurts, what storms or winds did blow: Of healthful, of infectious years he told, Omitting nothing that concern'd the fold. But that same fountain which did flow while-ere From Carmels Mount so Chrystaline, so clear, With changed current ('tis apparent) now Doth Southward run, where Eastward it did flow In times of yore; th'old channel yet is seen. These Innovators (changing what hath been) Have made new courses, have that old forsook, Which our forefathers wisely gave the brook.

Myr.

What's that to thee, whether the rivers source Run in a newer or an older course, So that it overflowing overspreads With fertile waters the contiguous Meads? And why do'st of heav'ns Clime complain? The sun His daily race in Southern skies doth run; The Vine that Southward grows best wine distils, Best Grapes are gathered from the Lybian hills.

Bat.

And those best Ewe-trees are that northward grow, A River therefore best should northward flow. A shepherd art? and (mad man) careless grown Of thy poor flock (as if 'twere not thine own) Thou talk'w of Vines; as if an equal line

Did regulate a flock, and dress a Vine; As though thou didst not know, or couldst not finde A difference in waters, grass and winde; And what ill winds unto the Cattel blow From Southern Climates, learn of Rome to know. If South-winds hurtless be, why then, O why Are Modens fleeces of a dusky dye? Why snow-like white is all Clitumnus breed? Why for fine wooll doe Mantua's flocks exceed All other sheep? And why's Verona's fleece, Next unto Mantua's, the fined peece? Whence come those multiplicities of things In various forms? The reason (doubtless) springs From nothing else, then from the divers kinds Of operations in grass, waters, winds.

Bem.

I prethee Candidus hence quickly take These shepherds sheep-hooks; I perceive they'l make Fierce wars this day: Take them in private hence, And hide them under yonder sedgy fence.

Bat.

Bembus, I speak to thee; while heretofore We liv'd together, which our Cattel bore One common mark, alas, what shame, alas, How many mischiefs did our Cattel pass? Unlawful 'twas our sheep to wash, to shear At the first seasons (as 'tis us'd) of th'year: The thorns unfleec'd, and naked made our sheep, The briars tore their naked backs with deep, With bloody scars; their skins with scabs were rent, Consuming humours made them pestilent, And ulcers all their bodies o're did creep. It therefore much concerns what herbage sheep Do feed upon, what kinde of waters they Do drink, and in what region they stay. Come, tell me, Myrmix, tell me why the wooll Hath lost its former colour? once less dull. What gave unto the flock these fleeces new? Why are those Cattel of a blacker hue,

VVhich brighter were in better times? 'tis strange: Their manners changing made their fleeces change. Bembus, I now to thee return; and will Endevour brevity: but Ile distill The truth, that so the sentence thou shalt give May merit honour and for ever live. The judgements thine: I will the truth pursue; A true relation makes the judgement true. Pond'ring these mischiefs, able scarce to bear So many losses which so frequent were, VVe came unto the Fountain, and from thence To search the River was my providence. Thy providence, O Myrmix, was the while To look a Birds Nest, or in Hunters toyle To take a frisking Goar, or nimble Roe, Fit gifts to give to thy beloved Froe.

Myr.

See'st Bembus with what open scoffs he jeers? This matter I suppose (as well appears) Hands must decide, not tongues; and 'tis my wont VVith blows not words to batter such affront.

Cand.

To speak the truth, O Batrachus, thy tongue Runs faster then is fit: Thou do'st him wrong. Bad language whets on choller; scoffing words The minde imbitter, cut more sharp then swords. Thou dealst not with a Childe, nor think we can That Myrmix is an undervalued man; 'Tis danger to speak what should not be spoke, And men with sawcy language to provoke.

Bat.

Excuse me, Myrmix, I did mean thine Aunt: But, by what errour a Concomitant I nam'd, know not: Pardon my mistake.

Myr.

I pardon it: But yet beware thou make No more mistakes: Beware, provoke no more.

Bat.

A stream of running water leaping ore A lofty Rock, delv'd with its fall a Lake, VVhose pent up waters did a level make VVithin the Banks: The Lake with darksome trees

Was overshadowed, and under these Briars and Thorns thick growing in a brake Did round inclose the melancholly Lake. A thousand shapes of ven'mous things I spy'd Within the Lake, a thousand more beside Crawling along the banks, along the brim Of those black waters up and down did swim: A thousand more did through the wood decline Unto the Lake with motion Serpentine. Amaz'd, in haste back to the Cotes I ran, And with my three tooth'd fork I there began To turn the straw: when O behold, a Snake Erects his head, and doth great hissing make. With his three-forked tongue, his jaws were swell'd: A Scorpion his invenom'd claws upheld; A Toad big belli'd crawling there I saw, And a fell Viper hissing in the straw. O fatal places, said I, not alone Fatal to sheep but shepherds; Ile be gone. Forthwith my flock dividing, I forsook That dismal place, and my sad self betook To seek out better pastures; and I led New Rivers from the Fountains first found head Through that old tract, and in those fields, those ways. Where first the rosie-colour'd Morn displays Her blush, when Phoebus at his re-ascent Inflames the Saffron-tinctur'd Orient. Here fruitful were my Cattel, Pastures here Were flourishing, the bubling waters clear, Unstain'd with filth, and undefil'd with mire: These are the places, whither did retire Our sage forefathers, here they first did dwell. The ruines yet are extant of their Cell: Old wells of water, rotten Posts of wood Pitch'd in the ground, which there divided stood Sev'n foot apart; an hearth for fire, an hall Surrounded with a ruinated wall.

Myr.

Inconstant men affect new-fangled things; New Pastures therefore, and unheard-of Springs Thou seek'st and feign'st; and dost these things devise An author to be deem'd of Novelties.

Bat.

Grave men affect their own; which is the cause VVhy Myrmix too too much himself withdraws From gravity: This newness is not new, But most authentick oldness, solid, true: Religion, practis'd in the pious lives Of our forefathers, now restor'd, revives: Which too too foully was corrupted, both By thine own looseness, and thy Sects known sloth. If therefore ruin'd houses one rebuild, Or of a barren make a fruitful field, Shouldst thou be Judge, he shall condemned be. Another Tree we plant, but yet that Tree Which fruitless was we prune, and on the stock Which was grown old (and barren like a block) We graft new Ciences, and with our care Make fruitful that which fruitless was and bare.

Myr.

Though there thy Cattel eat fat-feeding grass, And drink untroubled waters, yet (alas) Too many Lambs there with their Dams are dead, Whose Carkases have Wolves and Ravens fed.

Bat.

These I confess, these Cattel which have ta'ne The pestilent infection of thy bane, Infect beholders ev'n from far: so much Of poison's in them, and the force is such, Such and so great of your invenom'd art, That more and more I wish from hence to part, Hence to depart: But O, this ill alone My flock indures, that yet it is not gone Into the vast waste Wilderness, not yet Can far enough into the deserts get (Within some Cave, some: unfrequented Rock) Retir'd from you, from your infected flock.

Myr.

Thou Batrachus inventest many lies

Against our flocks: Thou sure art over-wise, Art over-careful of anothers Tribe, And rashly do'st unto thy self ascribe Unjust Censoriousness: Why should not I VVho keep great store of Cattel this espy As well as thou? what, is mine house (mine own) Onely to thee, to thy Companions known?

Bat.

Because that th' Aethiopians tawny skins Are colli'd all with black, that colour wins Repute with them; Nor do they beauty lack, Nor are disdain'd because their skins are black: Their faces all, are all alike; who blames Anothers face, his own therein defames: Your sheep and shepherds have the like reflect, Like Pest, l••ke scabs, like colour, like aspect.

Bem.

Forbear, your cause is understood, forbear; The day declines, The Suns swift Chariotteer Is whirl'd below, beyond yon tops of hills. Hear, O ye Rivulets of ancient Rills, Ye that derive by long antiquity From great Progenitors your Progeny; Hear what our judgement is, and O imbrace This our impartial sentence in your case.

Myr.

Thou Batrachus do'st me too much provoke VVith peremptory language, basely spoke.

Bat.

Not I, but thy bad cause provokes thee more, Thy guilty minde just judgement doth abhor.

Cand.

VVhen 'tis high time to lay debate aside, Your madness stirs new strife, anew you chide. This quarrel then with everlasting hate Perpetually shall live, beyond your fate. VVhat weakness, O what madness doth pervert Your senses thus, doth vex your head, your heart? VVhat, blush you not, so rudely to behave Your selves before a Judge so great, so grave? Hear then without distemper, hate, or spleen, That final sentence which you twain between

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The learned Bembus shall pronounce, and it Account authentick, and thereto submit.

Bem.

Trace out that path, those ancient ways transact Of your forefathers, keep that Older tract. Recall your wandring flocks within their Pales, From Dens of savage Beasts, from Rocks, from Vales. And in those older fields, that ancient Plain Erect your shepherds Cottages again.

The end of the fifth Eclogue.

Notes

• * 1.1

  What the Author meant of all, the Transla∣tor intends onely of ill women.