In Knots they stand or in a Rank they walk Serious in Aspect earnest in their Talk Factious and fav'ring this or t' other Side As their strong Fancies and weak Reason guide Their Wagers back their Wishes Numbers hold With the fair freckl'd King and Beard of Gold So vig'rous are his Eyes such Rays they cast So prominent his Eagles Beak is plac'd But most their Looks on the black Monarch bend His rising Muscles and his Brawn commend His double-biting Ax and beamy Spear Each asking a Gygantick Force to rear All spoke as partial Favour mov'd the Mind And safe themselves at others Cost divin'd Wak'd by the Cries th' Athenian Chief arose The Knightly Forms of Combate to dispose And passing through th' obsequious Guards he sate Conspicuous on a Throne sublime in State There for the two contending Knights he sent Arm'd Cap-a-pe with Rev'rende low they bent He smil'd on both and with superiour Look Alike their offer'd Adoration took The People press on ev'ry Side to see Their awful Prince and hear his high Decree Then signing to the Heralds with his Hand They gave his Orders from their lofty Stand. Silence is thrice enjoin'd then thus aloud The King at Arms bespeaks the Knights and listning Crowd Our Sovereign Lord has ponder'd in his Mind The Means to spare the Blood of gentle Kind And of his Grace and in-born Clemency He modifies his first severe Decree The keener Edge of Battel to rebate The Troops for Honour fighting not for Hate He wills not Death shou'd terminate their Strife And Wounds if Wounds ensue be short of Life But issues e'er the Fight his dread Command That Slings afar and Ponyards Hand to Hand Be banish'd from the Field that none shall dare With shortned Sword to stab in closer War But in fair Combate fight with manly Strength Nor push with biting Point but strike at length The Turney is allow'd but one Career Of the tough Ash with the sharp-grinded Spear But Knights unhors'd may rise from off the Plain And fight on Foot their Honour to regain Nor if at Mischief taken on the Ground Be slain but Pris'ners to the Pillar bound At either Barrier plac'd nor Captives made Be freed or arm'd anew the Fight invade The Chief of either Side bereft of Life Or yielded to his Foe concludes the Strife Thus dooms the Lord Now valiant Knights and young Fight each his fill with Swords and Maces long The Herald ends The vaulted Firmament With loud Acclaims and vast Applause is rent Heav'n guard a Prince so gracious and so good So just and yet so provident of Blood This was the gen'ral Cry The Trumpets sound And Warlike Symphony is heard around The marching Troops through Athens take their way The great Earl-Marshal orders their Array The Fair from high the passing Pomp behold A Rain of Flow'rs is from the Windows roll'd The Casements are with Golden Tissue spread And Horses Hoofs for Earth on Silken Tap'ftry tread The King goes midmost and the Rivals ride In equal Rank and close his either Side Next after these there rode the Royal Wife With Emily the Cause and the Reward of Strife The following Cavalcade by Three and Three Proceed by Titles marshall'd in Degree Thus through the Southern Gate they take their Way And at the Lists arriv'd e'er Prime of Day There parting from the King the Chiefs divide And wheeling East and West before their Many ride Th' Athenian Monarch mounts his Throne on high And after him the Queen and Emily Next these the Kindred of the Crown are grac'd With nearer Seats and Lords by Ladies plac'd Scarce were they seated when with Clamours loud In rush'd at once a rude promiscuous Crowd The Guards and then each other overbare And in a Moment throng the spacious Theatre Now chang'd the jarring Noise to Whispers low As Winds forsaking Seas more softly blow When at the Western Gate on which the Car Is plac'd alost that bears the God of War Proud Arcite entring arm'd before his Train Stops at the Barrier and divides the Plain Red was his Banner and display'd abroad The bloody Colours of his Patron God At that self-moment enters Palamon The Gate of Venus and the Rising Sun Wav'd by the wanton Winds his Banner flies All Maiden White and shares the Peoples Eyes From East to West look all the World around Two Troops so match'd were never to be found Such Bodies built for Strength of equal Age In Stature siz'd so proud an Equipage The nicest Eye cou'd no Distinction make Where lay th' Advantage or what Side to take Thus rang'd the Herald for the last proclaims A Silence while they answer'd to their Names For so the King decreed to shun with Care The Fraud of Musters false the common Bane of War The Tale was just and then the Gates were clos'd And Chief to Chief and Troop to Troop oppos'd The Heralds last retir'd and loudly cry'd The Fortune of the Field be fairly try'd At this the Challenger with fierce Defie His Trumpet sounds the Challeng'd makes Reply With Clangour rings the Field resounds the vaulted Sky Their Vizors clos'd their Lances in the Rest Or at the Helmet pointed or the Crest They vanish from the Barrier speed the Race And spurring see decrease the middle Space A Cloud of Smoke envellops either Host And all at once the Combatants are lost Darkling they join adverse and shock unseen Coursers with Coursers justling Men with Men As lab'ring in Eclipse a while they stay Till the next Blast of Wind restores the Day They look anew The beauteous Form of Fight Is chang'd and War appears a grizly Sight Two Troops in fair Array one Moment show'd The next a Field with fallen Bodies strow'd Not half the Number in their Seats are found But Men and Steeds lie grov'ling on the Ground The Points of Spears are stuck within the Shield The Steeds without their Riders scour the Field The Knights unhors'd on Foot renew the Fight The glitt'ring Fauchions cast a gleaming Light Hauberks and Helms are hew'd with many a Wound Out spins the streaming Blood and dies the Ground The mighty Maces with such haste descend They break the Bones and make the solid Armour bend This thrusts amid the Throng with furious Force Down goes at once the Horseman and the Horse That Courser stumbles on the fallen Steed And floundring throws the Rider o'er his Head One rolls along a Foot-ball to his Foes One with a broken Truncheon deals his Blows This halting this disabl'd with his Wound In Trumph led is to the Pillar bound Where by the King's Award he must abide There goes a Captive led on t' other Side By Fits they cease and leaning on the Lance Take Breath a while and to new Fight advance Full oft the Rivals met and neither spar'd His utmost Force and each forgot to ward The Head of this was to the Saddle bent That other backward to the Crupper sent Both were by Turns unhors'd the
pious Grief And ran in vain alas to his Relief For the brave Soul was fled Full of my Friend I rush'd amid the War his Relicks to defend Nor ceas'd my Toil till I redeem'd the Prey And loaded with Achilles march'd away Those Arms which on these Shoulders then I bore 'T is just you to these Shoulders should restore You see I want not Nerves who cou'd sustain The pond'rous Ruins of so great a Man Or if in others equal Force you find None is endu'd with a more grateful Mind Did Thetis then ambitious in her Care These Arms thus labour'd for her Son prepare That Ajax after him the heav'nly Gift shou'd wear For that dull Soul to stare with stupid Eyes On the learn'd unintelligible Prize What are to him the Sculptures of the Shield Heav'ns Planets Earth and Oceans watry Field The Pleiads Hyads less and greater Bear Undipp'd in Seas Orion's angry Star Two diff'ring Cities grav'd on either Hand Would he wear Arms he cannot understand Beside what wise Objections he prepares Against my late accession to the Wars Does not the Fool perceive his Argument Is with more force against Achilles bent For if Dissembling be so great a Crime The Fault is common and the same in him And if he taxes both of long delay My Guilt is less who sooner came away His pious Mother anxious for his Life Detain'd her Son and me my pious Wife To them the Blossoms of our Youth were due Our riper Manhood we reserv'd for you But grant me guilty 't is not much my care When with so great a Man my Guilt I share My Wit to War the matchless Hero brought But by this Fool I never had been caught Nor need I wonder that on me he threw Such foul Aspersions when he spares not you If Palamede unjustly fell by me Your Honour suffer'd in th' unjust Decree I but accus'd you doom'd And yet he dy'd Convinc'd of Treason and was fairly try'd You heard not he was false your Eyes beheld The Traytor manifest the Bribe reveal'd That Philoctetes is on Lemnos left Wounded forlorn of human Aid bereft Is not my Crime or not my Crime alone Defend your Justice for the Fact 's your own 'T is true 〈◊〉 ' Advice was mine that staying there He might his weary Limbs with rest repair From a long Voyage free and from a longer War He took the Counsel and he lives at least Th' event declares I counsell'd for the best Though Faith is all in Ministers of State For who can promise to be fortunate Now since his Arrows are the Fate of Troy Do not my Wit or weak Address employ Send Ajax there with his persuasive Sense To mollify the Man and draw him thence But Xanthus shall run backward Ida stand A leafless Mountain and the Grecian Band Shall fight for Troy if when my Counsel fail The Wit of heavy Ajax can prevail Hard Philoctetes exercise thy Spleen Against thy Fellows and the King of Men Curse my devoted Head above the rest And wish in Arms to meet me Breast to Breast Yet I the dang'rous Task will undertake And either die my self or bring thee back Nor doubt the same Success as when before The Phrygian Prophet to these Tents I bore Surpriz'd by Night and forc'd him to declare In what was plac'd the fortune of the War Heav'ns dark Decrees and Answers to display And how to take the Town and where the Secret lay Yet this I compass'd and from Troy convey'd The fatal Image of their Guardian-Maid That Work was mine for Pallas though our Friend Yet while she was in Troy did Troy defend Now what has Ajax done or what design'd A noisy Nothing and an empty Wind If he be what he promises in Show Why was I sent and why fear'd he to go Our boasting Champion thought the Task not light To pass the Guards commit himself to Night Not only through a hostile Town to pass But scale with steep ascent the sacred Place With wand'ring Steps to search the Cittadel And from the Priests their Patroness to steal Then through surrounding Foes to force my way And bear in Triumph home the heav'nly Prey Which had I not Ajax in vain had held Before that monst'rous Bulk his sev'nfold Shield That Night to conquer Troy I might be said When Troy was liable to Conquest made Why point'st thou to my Partner of the War Tydides had indeed a worthy share In all my Toil and Praise but when thy Might Our Ships protected did'st thou singly fight All join'd and thou of many wert but one I ask'd no Friend nor had but him alone Who had he not been well assur'd that Art And Conduct were of War the better part And more avail'd than Strength my valiant Friend Had urg'd a better Right than Ajax can pretend As good at least Euripylus may claim And the more moderate Ajax of the Name The Cretan King and his brave Charioteer And Menelaus bold with Sword and Spear All these had been my Rivals in the Shield And yet all these to my Pretensions yield Thy boist'rous Hands are then of use when I With this directing Head those Hands apply Brawn without Brain is thine My prudent Care Foresees provides administers the War Thy Province is to Fight but when shall be The time to Fight the King consults with me No dram of Judgment with thy Force is join'd Thy Body is of Profit and my Mind But how much more the Ship her Safety owes To him who steers than him that only rows By how much more the Captain merits Praise Than he who Fights and Fighting but obeys By so much greater is my Worth than thine Who can'st but execute what I design What gain'st thou brutal Man if I confess Thy Strength superiour when thy Wit is less Mind is the Man I claim my whole Desert From the Mind's Vigour and th' immortal part But you O Grecian Chiefs reward my Care Be grateful to your Watchman of the War For all my Labours in so long a space Sure I may plead a Title to your Grace Enter the Town I then unbarr'd the Gates When I remov'd their tutelary Fates By all our common hopes if hopes they be Which I have now reduc'd to Certainty By falling Troy by yonder tott'ring Tow'rs And by their taken Gods which now are ours Or if there yet a farther Task remains To be perform'd by Prudence or by Pains If yet some desperate Action rests behind That asks high Conduct and a dauntless Mind If ought be wanting to the Trojan Doom Which none but I can manage and o'ercome Award those Arms I ask by your Decree Or give to this what you refuse to me He ceas'd And ceasing with Respect he bow'd And with his Hand at once the fatal Statue show'd Heav'n Air and Ocean rung witth loud Applause And by the general Vote he gain'd his Cause Thus Conduct won the Prize when Courage fail'd And Eloquence o'er brutal Force prevail'd The Death of Ajax
He who cou'd often and alone withstand The Foe the Fire and Jove's own partial Hand Now cannot his unmaster'd Grief sustain But yields to Rage to Madness and Disdain Then snatching out his Fauchion Thou said He Art mine Ulysses lays no claim to Thee O often try'd and ever trusty Sword Now do thy last kind Office to thy Lord 'T is Ajax who requests thy Aid to show None but himself himself cou'd overthrow He said and with so good a Will to die Did to his Breast the fatal Point apply It found his Heart a way till then unknown Where never Weapon enter'd but his own No Hands cou'd force it thence so fix'd it stood Till out it rush'd expell'd by Streams of spouting Blood The fruitful Blood produc'd a Flow'r which grew On a green Stem and of a Purple Hue Like his whom unaware Apollo slew Inscrib'd in both the Letters are the same But those express the Grief and these the Name THE WIFE OF BATH HER TALE THE Wife of BATH HER TALE IN Days of Old when Arthur fill'd the Throne Whose Acts and Fame to Foreign Lands were blown The King of Elfs and little Fairy Queen Gamboll'd on Heaths and danc'd on ev'ry Green And where the jolly Troop had led the round The Grass unbidden rose and mark'd the Ground Nor darkling did they dance the Silver Light Of Phaebe serv'd to guide their Steps aright And with their Tripping pleas'd prolong'd the Night Her Beams they follow'd where at full she plaid Nor longer than she shed her Horns they staid From thence with airy Flight to Foreign Lands convey'd Above the rest our Britain held they dear More solemnly they kept their Sabbaths here And made more spacious Rings and revell'd half the Year I speak of ancient Times for now the Swain Returning late may pass the Woods in vain And never hope to see the nightly Train In vain the Dairy now with Mints is dress'd The Dairy-Maid expects no Fairy Guest To skim the Bowls and after pay the Feast She sighs and shakes her empty Shoes in vain No Silver Penny to reward her Pain For Priests with Pray'rs and other godly Geer Have made the merry Goblins disappear And where they plaid their merry Pranks before Have sprinkled Holy Water on the Floor And Fry'rs that through the wealthy Regions run Thick as the Motes that twinkle in the Sun Resort to Farmers rich and bless their Halls And exorcise the Beds and cross the Walls This makes the Fairy Quires forsake the Place When once 't is hallow'd with the Rites of Grace But in the Walks where wicked Elves have been The Learning of the Parish now is seen The Midnight Parson posting o'er the Green With Gown tuck'd up to Wakes for Sunday next With humming Ale encouraging his Text Nor wants the holy Leer to Country-Girl betwixt From Fiends and Imps he sets the Village free There haunts not any Incubus but He. The Maids and Women need no Danger fear To walk by Night and Sanctity so near For by some Haycock or some shady Thorn He bids his Beads both Even-song and Morn It so befel in this King Arthur's Reign A lusty Knight was pricking o'er the Plain A Batchelor he was and of the courtly Train It happen'd as he rode a Damsel gay In Russet-Robes to Market took her way Soon on the Girl he cast an amorous Eye So strait she walk'd and on her Pasterns high If seeing her behind he lik'd her Pace Now turning short he better lik'd her Face He lights in hast and full of Youthful Fire By Force accomplish'd his obscene Desire This done away he rode not unespy'd For swarming at his Back the Country cry'd And once in view they never lost the Sight But seiz'd and pinion'd brought to court the Knight Then Courts of Kings were held in high Renown E'er made the common Brothels of the Town There Virgins honourable Vows receiv'd But chast as Maids in Monasteries liv'd The King himself to Nuptial Ties a Slave No bad Example to his Poets gave And they not bad but in a vicious Age Had not to please the Prince debauch'd the Stage Now what shou'd Arthur do He lov'd the Knight But Soveraign Monarchs are the Source of Right Mov'd by the Damsels Tears and common Cry He doom'd the brutal Ravisher to die But fair Geneura rose in his Defence And pray'd so hard for Mercy from the Prince That to his Queen the King th' Offender gave And left it in her Pow'r to Kill or Save This gracious Act the Ladies all approve Who thought it much a Man should die for Love And with their Mistress join'd in close Debate Covering their Kindness with dissembled Hate If not to free him to prolong his Fate At last agreed they call'd him by consent Before the Queen and Female Parliament And the fair Speaker rising from her Chair Did thus the Judgment of the House declare Sir Knight tho' I have ask'd thy Life yet still Thy Destiny depends upon my Will Nor hast thou other Surety than the Grace Not due to thee from our offended Race But as our Kind is of a softer Mold And cannot Blood without a Sigh behold I grant thee Life reserving still the Pow'r To take the Forfeit when I see my Hour Unless thy Answer to my next Demand Shall set Thee free from our avenging Hand The Question whose Solution I require Is what the Sex of Women most desire In this Dispute thy Judges are at Strife Beware for on thy Wit depends thy Life Yet lest surpriz'd unknowing what to say Thou damn thy self we give thee farther Day A Year is thine to wander at thy Will And learn from others if thou want'st the Skill But not to hold our Proffer in Scorn Good Sureties will we have for thy return That at the time prefix'd thou shalt obey And at thy Pledges Peril keep thy Day Woe was the Knight at this severe Command But well he knew 't was bootless to withstand The Terms accepted as the Fair ordain He put in Bail for his return again And promis'd Answer at the Day assign'd The best with Heav'ns Assistance he could find His Leave thus taken on his Way he went With heavy Heart and full of Discontent Misdoubting much and fearful of th' Event 'T was hard the Truth of such a Point to find As was not yet agreed among the Kind Thus on he went still anxious more and more Ask'd all he met and knock'd at ev'ry Door Enquir'd of Men but made his chief Request To learn from Women what they lov'd the best They answer'd each according to her Mind To please her self not all the Female Kind One was for Wealth another was for Place Crones old and ugly wish'd a better Face The Widow's Wish was oftentimes to Wed The wanton Maids were all for Sport a Bed Some said the Sex were pleas'd with handsom Lies And some gross Flatt'ry lov'd without disguise Truth is says one he seldom fails to win Who Flatters
a long trail of Light to thee descending down If in thy Smoke it ends Their Glories shine But Infamy and Villanage are thine Then what I said before is plainly show'd That true Nobility proceeds from God Not left us by Inheritance but giv'n By Bounty of our Stars and Grace of Heav'n Thus from a Captive Servius Tullus rose Whom for his Virtues the first Romans chose Fabritius from their Walls repell'd the Foe Whose noble Hands had exercis'd the Plough From hence my Lord and Love I thus conclude That tho' my homely Ancestors were rude Mean as I am yet I may have the Grace To make you Father of a generous Race And Noble then am I when I begin In Virtue cloath'd to cast the Rags of Sin If Poverty be my upbraided Crime And you believe in Heav'n there was a time When He the great Controller of our Fate Deign'd to be Man and liv'd in low Estate Which he who had the World at his dispose If Poverty were Vice wou'd never choose Philosophers have said and Poets sing That a glad Poverty 's an honest Thing Content is Wealth the Riches of the Mind And happy He who can that Treasure find But the base Miser starves amidst his Store Broods on his Gold and griping still at more Sits sadly pining and believes he 's Poor The ragged Beggar tho' he wants Relief Has not to lose and sings before the Thief Want is a bitter and a hateful Good Because its Virtues are not understood Yet many Things impossible to Thought Have been by Need to full Perfection brought The daring of the Soul proceeds from thence Sharpness of Wit and active Diligence Prudence at once and Fortitude it gives And if in patience taken mends our Lives For ev'n that Indigence that brings me low Makes me my self and Him above to know A Good which none would challenge few would choose A fair Possession which Mankind refuse If we from Wealth to Poverty descend Want gives to know the Flatt'rer from the Friend If I am Old and Ugly well for you No leud Adult'rer will my Love pursue Nor Jealousy the Bane of marry'd Life Shall haunt you for a wither'd homely Wife For Age and Ugliness as all agree Are the best Guards of Female Chastity Yet since I see your Mind is Worldly bent I 'll do my best to further your Content And therefore of two Gifts in my dispose Think e'er you speak I grant you leave to choose Wou'd you I should be still Deform'd and Old Nauseous to Touch and Loathsome to Behold On this Condition to remain for Life A careful tender and obedient Wife In all I can contribute to your Ease And not in Deed or Word or Thought displease Or would you rather have me Young and Fair And take the Chance that happens to your share Temptations are in Beauty and in Youth And how can you depend upon my Truth Now weigh the Danger with the doubtful Bliss And thank your self if ought should fall amiss Sore sigh'd the Knight who this long Sermon heard At length considering all his Heart he chear'd And thus reply'd My Lady and my Wife To your wise Conduct I resign my Life Choose you for me for well you understand The future Good and Ill on either Hand But if an humble Husband may request Provide and order all Things for the best Your's be the Care to profit and to please And let your Subject-Servant take his Ease Then thus in Peace quoth she concludes the Strife Since I am turn'd the Husband you the Wife The Matrimonial Victory is mine Which having fairly gain'd I will resign Forgive if I have said or done amiss And seal the Bargain with a Friendly Kiss I promis'd you but one Content to share But now I will become both Good and Fair. No Nuptial Quarrel shall disturb your Ease The Business of my Life shall be to please And for my Beauty that as Time shall try But draw the Curtain first and cast your Eye He look'd and saw a Creature heav'nly Fair In bloom of Youth and of a charming Air. With Joy he turn'd and seiz'd her Iv'ry Arm And like Pygmalion found the Statue warm Small Arguments there needed to prevail A Storm of Kisses pour'd as thick as Hail Thus long in mutual Bliss they lay embrac'd And their first Love continu'd to the last One Sun-shine was their Life no Cloud between Nor ever was a kinder Couple seen And so may all our Lives like their's be led Heav'n send the Maids young Husbands fresh in Bed May Widows Wed as often they can And ever for the better change their Man And some devouring Plague pursue their Lives Who will not well be govern'd by their Wives OF THE PYTHAGOREAN PHILOSOPHY FROM Ovid's Metamorphoses BOOK XV. OF THE PYTHAGOREAN PHILOSOPHY The Fourteenth Book concludes with the Death and Deification of Romulus The Fifteenth begins with the Election of Numa to the Crown of Rome On this Occasion Ovid following the Opinion of some Authors makes Numa the Schollar of Pythagoras and to have begun his Acquaintance with that Philosopher at Crotona a Town in Italy from thence he makes a Digression to the Moral and Natural Philosophy of Pythagoras On both which our Author enlarges and which are the most learned and beautiful Parts of the whole Metamorphoses A King is sought to guide the growing State One able to support the Publick Weight And fill the Throne where Romulus had sat Renown which oft bespeaks the Publick Voice Had recommended Numa to their choice A peaceful pious Prince who not content To know the Sabine Rites his Study bent To cultivate his Mind To learn the Laws Of Nature and explore their hidden Cause Urg'd by this Care his Country he forsook And to Crotona thence his Journey took Arriv'd he first enquir'd the Founder's Name Of this new Colony and whence he came Then thus a Senior of the Place replies Well read and curious of Antiquities 'T is said Alcides hither took his way From Spain and drove along his conquer'd Prey Then leaving in the Fields his grazing Gows He sought himself some hospitable House Good Croton entertain'd his Godlike Guest While he repair'd his weary Limbs with rest The Hero thence departing bless'd the Place And here he said in Times revolving Race A rising Town shall take his Name from thee Revolving Time fulfill'd the Prophecy For Myscelos the justest Man on Earth Alemon's Son at Argos had his Birth Him Hercules arm'd with his Club of Oak O'ershadow'd in a Dream and thus bespoke Go leave thy Native Soil and make Abode Where AEsaris rowls down his rapid Flood He said and Sleep forsook him and the God Trembling he wak'd and rose with anxious Heart His Country Laws forbad him to depart What shou'd he do 'T was Death to go away And the God menac'd if he dar'd to stay All Day he doubted and when Night came on Sleep and the same forewarming Dream begun Once more the God stood
With bow in hand and arrowes in caas Her eine she cast full low adoun There Pluto hath his darke region A woman trauelling was her before But for her child so long was vnbore Full pitously Lucina gan she call And saide helpe for thou maist best of all Well could he paint liuely that it wrought With many a florein he the hewes bought Now bene these listes made and Theseus That at his great cost hath araied thus The temples and the theatre euery del Whan it was done it liked him wonder wel But stint I wol of Theseus alite And speake of Palamon and Arcite The day approcheth of her returning That euerich shuld an C. knights bring The battaile to darraine as I you told And to Athenes her couenauntes to hold Hath euerich of hem brought an C. knights Well armed for the warre at all rights And sikerly there trowed many a man That neuer sithens the world began As for to speake of knighthood of her hond As far as God hath made see or sond Nas of so few so noble a company For euery wight that loued chiualrie And wold his thanks haue a passing name Hath praied that he might be of that game And wel was him that therto chosen was For if there fell to morowe such a caas Ye know well that euery lustie knight That loueth paramours and hath his might Were it in England or elsewhere They wold faine willen to be there To fight for a lady ah benedicite It were a lusty sight for to sei And right so farden 〈◊〉 with Palamon With him there went 〈◊〉 many on Some wold ben armed in an habergeon And in a brest-plate with a light gippion And some wold haue a paire of plates large And some would haue a pruce shield of a large Some would be armed on his legs 〈◊〉 And haue an axe and some a 〈◊〉 of stele There nas none new gyse that it nas 〈◊〉 Armed were they as I haue you tolde Eueriche after his opinion ¶ Ther maist thou se coming with Palamon Licurge himselfe the great king of Trace Black was his berd and manly was his face The fercles of his eyen in his heed They glouden betwixt yelow and reed And like a lion loked he aboute With kemped heares on his browes stoute His limmes grete his brawnes strong His shoulders brode his armes round and long And as the gise was in his countre Full hie upon a chare of gold stode he With foure white bulles in the trayes Instede of a cote armure ouer his 〈◊〉 With nayles yelow and bright as any gold He hath a bear's skin cole black for olde His long heare was kemped behind his back As any rauens fether it shone for blacke A wreth of gold arme gret of huge weight Upon his heed set full of stones bright Of fine rubies and diamandes About his chare there went white allaundes Twentie and mo as grete as any stere To hunten at the lion or at the wilde bere And folowed him with mosell fast ybounde Colers of gold and torrettes yfiled rounde An hundred lords had he in his route Armed ful well with hertes sterne and stoute With Arcite in stories as men fynde The great Emetrius the king of Inde Upon a stede bay trapped in stele Couered with a cloth of gold diapred wele Came riding like the god of Armes Mars His cote armure was of clothe of Trace Cauched with perle white round and gret His sadle was of 〈◊〉 golde newe ybet A mantel vpon his shoulders honging Brette full of rubies redde as fire sparkling His crispe hear like rings was yronne And that was yelow and glitering as the sonne His nose was hie his eyen bright cytryn His lippes ruddy his 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 A few frekles in his face 〈◊〉 Betwixt yelow and somdele black ymente And as a lyon he his even 〈◊〉 Of fiue and 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 geste His berde 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 to spring His voyce was 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Vpon his heed 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 grene A garlande 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 for to sene Vpon his hande he bare for his delite An Egle tame as any lylly white An hundred lordes had he with him there All armed saue her heades in her gere Full richely in all maner thinges For trusteth wel that 〈◊〉 dukes and kinges Were gathered in this noble company For loue and for increase of chiualry About the king there ran on euery parte Ful many a tame Lion and libarte And in this 〈◊〉 these lords all and some Ben on the Sonday to the 〈◊〉 come About prime and in the 〈◊〉 a light This Theseus this duke this worthy kniht When he had brought 〈◊〉 into his cite And inned hem euerich after his degre He festeth hem and doth so great laboure To easen hem and don hem all hondure That yet men wenen that no mans wit Of none estate coude amende it The minstracie the seruice at the feest The great yeftes to the most and leest The rich aray throughout Theseus palays Ne who sate first ne last upon the deys What ladies fayrest ben or best dauncing Or which of hem can best daunce or sing Ne who most felingly speketh of loue Ne what haukes sitten on perched aboue Ne what hounds liggen on the flour adoun Of all this now make 〈◊〉 mencion But all the effect that thinketh me the beste Now cometh the point herkeneth if you lest The sonday at night or day began to spring Whan Palamon the larke herde sing Although it were nat day by houres two Yet song the larke and Palamon right tho With holy hert and with an hie corage He rose vp to wenden on his pilgrimage Vnto the blissful Cithere a beninge I meane Venus honourable and digne And in her hour he walketh forth a paas Vnto the listes there the temple was And doune he kneleth and with humble chere And herte sore he said as ye shall here ¶ Fairest of faire O lady mine Venus Doughter of Joue and spouse to Vulcanus Thou glader of the mount of Citheron For thilke loue thou haddest to Adon Haue pite of my bitter teares smerte And take my humble praier at thine herte Alas I ne haue no language to tel The effect ne the turment of mine hel Mine herte may not mine harmes bewraie I am so confused that I cannot saie But mercy lady bright that woste wele My thought and seest what harmes that I fele Consider al this and rue vpon my sore As wisly as I shal for euermore Emforth my might thy true seruaunt be And holde warre alway with chastitie That make I myn auowe so ye me helpe I kepe not of armes for to yelpe Ne I ne aske to morowe to haue victory Ne renome in this case ne vaine glory Of prise of armes to blowen vp and doun But wolde haue fully possessioun Of Emelye and die in her seruice Finde thou the maner howe and in what wise I retche not but it may better be To haue victory of hem
be persuaded to take the same with his If I had taken to the Church as he affirms but which was never in my Thoughts I should have had more Sense if not more Grace than to have turn'd my self out of my Benefice by writing Libels on my Parishioners But his Account of my Manners and my Principles are of a Piece with his Cavils and his Poetry And so I have done with him for ever As for the City Bard or Knight Physician I hear his Quarrel to me is that I was the Author of Absalom and Architophel which he thinks is a little hard on his Fanatique Patrons in London But I will deal the more civilly with his two Poems because nothing ill is to be spoken of the Dead And therefore Peace be to the Manes of his Arthurs I will only say that it was not for this Noble Knight that I drew the Plan of an Epick Poem on King Arthur in my Preface to the Translation of Iuvenal The Guardian Angels of Kingdoms were Machines too ponderous for him to manage and therefore he rejected them as Dares did the Whirl-bats of Eryx when they were thrown before him by Entellus Yet from that Preface he plainly took his Hint For he began immediately upon the Story though he had the Baseness not to acknowledge his Benefactor but in Head of it to traduce me in a Libel I shall say the less of Mr. Collier because in many Things he has tax'd me justly and I have pleaded Guilty to all Thoughts and Expressions of mine which can be truly argu'd of Obscenity Profaneness or Immorality and retract them If he be my Enemy let him triumph if he be my Friend as I have given him no Personal Occasion to be otherwise he will be glad of my Repentance It becomes me not to draw my Pen in the Defence of a bad Cause when I have so often drawn it for a good one Yet it were not difficult to prove that in many Places he has perverted my Meaning by his Glosles and interpreted my Words into Blasphemy and Baudry of which they were not guilty Besides that he is too much given to Horse-play in his Raillery and comes to Battel like a Dictatour from the Plough I will not say The Zeal of God s House has eaten him up but I am sure it has devour'd some Part of his Good Manners and Civility It might also be doubted whether it were altogether Zeal which prompted him to this rough manner of Proceeding perhaps it became not one of his Function to rake into the Rubbish of Ancient and Modern Plays a Divine might have employ'd his Pains to better purpose than in the Nastiness of Plautus and Aristophanes whose Examples as they excuse not me so it might be possibly suppos'd that he read them not without some Pleasure They who have written Commentaries on those Poets or on Horace Juvenal and Martial have explain'd some Vices which without their Interpretation had been unknown to Modern Times Neither has he judg'd impartially betwixt the former Age and us There is more Baudry in one Play of Fletcher's call'd The Custom of the Country than in all ours together Yet this has been often acted on the Stage in my remembrance Are the Times so much more reform'd now than they were Five and twenty Years ago If they are I congratulate the Amendment of our Morals But I am not to prejudice the Cause of my Fellow-Poets though I abandon my own Defence They have some of them answer'd for themselves and neither they nor I can think Mr. Collier so formidable an Enemy that we should shun him He has lost Ground at the latter end of the Day by pursuing his Point too far like the Prince of Condé at the Battel of Senneph From Immoral Plays to No Plays ab abusu ad usum non valet consequentia But being a Party I am not to erect my self into a Judge As for the rest of those who have written against me they are such Scoundrels that they deserve not the least Notice to be taken of them B and M are only distinguish'd from the Crowd by being remember'd to their Infamy Demetri Teque Tigelli Discipularum inter jubeo plorare cathedras TO HER GRACE THE DUTCHESS OF ORMOND With the following POEM of Palamon and Arcite FROM CHAUCER TO HER GRACE THE DUTCHESS OF ORMOND MADAM THe Bard who first adorn'd our Native Tongue Tun'd to his British Lyre this ancient Song Which Homer might without a Blush reherse And leaves a doubtful Palm in Virgil's Verse He match'd their Beauties where they most excell Of Love sung better and of Arms as well Vouchsafe Illustrious Ormond to behold What Pow'r the Charms of Beauty had of old Nor wonder if such Deeds of Arms were done Inspir'd by two fair Eyes that sparkled like your own If Chaucer by the best Idea wrought And Poets can divine each others Thought The fairest Nymph before his Eyes he set And then the fairest was Plantagenet Who three contending Princes made her Prize And rul'd the Rival-Nations with her Eyes Who left Immortal Trophies of her Fame And to the Noblest Order gave the Name Like Her of equal Kindred to the Throne You keep her Conquests and extend your own As when the Stars in their Etherial Race At length have roll'd around the Liquid Space At certain Periods they resume their Place From the same Point of Heav'n their Course advance And move in Measures of their former Dance Thus after length of Ages she returns Restor'd in you and the same Place adorns Or you perform her Office in the Sphere Born of her Blood and make a new Platonick Year O true Plantagenet O Race Divine For Beauty still is fatal to the Line Had Chaucer liv'd that Angel-Face to view Sure he had drawn his Emily from You Or had You liv'd to judge the doubtful Right Your Noble Palamon had been the Knight And Conqu'ring Theseus from his Side had sent Your Gen'rous Lord to guide the Theban Government Time shall accomplish that and I shall see A Palamon in Him in You an Emily Already have the Fates your Path prepar'd And sure Presage your future Sway declar'd When Westward like the Sun you took your Way And from benighted Britain bore the Day Blue Triton gave the Signal from the Shore The ready Nereids heard and swam before To smooth the Seas a soft Etesian Gale But just inspir'd and gently swell'd the Sail Portunus took his Turn whose ample Hand Heav'd up the lighten'd Keel and sunk the Sand And steer'd the sacred Vessel safe to Land The Land if not restrain'd had met Your Way Projected out a Neck and jutted to the Sea Hibernia prostrate at Your Feet ador'd In You the Pledge of her expected Lord Due to her Isle a venerable Name His Father and his Grandsire known to Fame Aw'd by that House accustom'd to command The sturdy Kerns in due Subjection stand Nor hear the Reins in any Foreign Hand At
out so clear That Men and Angels might rejoice to hear Ev'n wondring Philomel forgot to sing And learn'd from Her to welcome in the Spring The Tow'r of which before was mention made Within whose Keep the captive Knights were laid Built of a large Extent and strong withal Was one Partition of the Palace Wall The Garden was enclos'd within the Square Where young Emilia took the Morning-Air It happen'd Palamon the Pris'ner Knight Restless for Woe arose before the Light And with his Jaylor's leave desir'd to breathe An Air more wholesom than the Damps beneath This granted to the Tow'r he took his way Cheer'd with the Promise of a glorious Day Then cast a languishing Regard around And saw with hateful Eyes the Temples crown'd With golden Spires and all the Hostile Ground He sigh'd and turn'd his Eyes because he knew 'T was but a larger Jayl he had in view Then look'd below and from the Castles height Beheld a nearer and more pleasing Sight The Garden which before he had not seen In Springs new Livery clad of White and Green Fresh Flow'rs in wide Parterres and shady Walks between This view'd but not enjoy'd with Arms across He stood reflecting on his Country's Loss Himself an Object of the Publick Scorn And often wish'd he never had been born At last for so his Destiny requir'd With-walking giddy and with thinking tir'd He thro' a little Window cast his Sight Tho' thick of Bars that gave a scanty Light But ev'n that Glimmering serv'd him to descry Th' inevitable Charms of Emily Scarce had he seen but seiz'd with sudden Smart Stung to the Quick he felt it at his Heart Struck blind with overpowering Light he stood Then started back amaz'd and cry'd aloud Young Arcite heard and up he ran with haste To help his Friend and in his Arms embrac'd And ask'd him why he look'd so deadly wan And whence and how his change of Cheer began Or who had done th' Offence But if said he Your Grief alone is hard Captivity For Love of Heav'n with Patience undergo A cureless Ill since Fate will have it so So stood our Horoscope in Chains to lie And Saturn in the Dungeon of the Sky Or other baleful Aspect rul'd our Birth When all the friendly Stars were under Earth Whate'er betides by Destiny 't is done And better bear like Men than vainly seek to shun Nor of my Bonds said Palamon again Nor of unhappy Planets I complain But when my mortal Anguish caus'd my Cry That Moment I was hurt thro' either Eye Pierc'd with a Random-shaft I faint away And perish with insensible Decay A Glance of some new Goddess gave the Wound Whom like Acteon unaware I found Look how she walks along yon shady Space Not Juno moves with more Majestick Grace And all the Cyprian Queen is in her Face If thou art Venus for thy Charms confess That Face was form'd in Heav'n nor art thou less Disguis'd in Habit undisguis'd in Shape O help us Captives from our Chains to scape But if our Doom be past in Bonds to lie For Life and in a loathsom Dungeon die Then be thy Wrath appeas'd with our Disgrace And shew Compassion to the Theban Race Oppress'd by Tyrant Pow'r While yet he spoke Arcite on Emily had fix'd his Look The fatal Dart a ready Passage found And deep within his Heart infix'd the Wound So that if Palamon were wounded sore Arcite was hurt as much as he or more Then from his inmost Soul he sigh'd and said The Beauty I behold has struck me dead Unknowingly she strikes and kills by chance Poyson is in her Eyes and Death in ev'ry Glance O I must ask nor ask alone but move Her Mind to Mercy or must die for Love Thus Arcite And thus Palamon replies Eager his Tone and ardent were his Eyes Speak'st thou in earnest or in jesting Vein Jesting said Arcite suits but ill with Pain It suits far worse said Palamon again And bent his Brows with Men who Honour weigh Their Faith to break their Friendship to betray But worst with Thee of Noble Lineage born My Kinsman and in Arms my Brother sworn Have we not plighted each our holy Oath That one shou'd be the Common Good of both One Soul shou'd both inspire and neither prove His Fellows Hindrance in pursuit of Love To this before the Gods we gave our Hands And nothing but our Death can break the Bands This binds thee then to farther my Design As I am bound by Vow to farther thine Nor canst nor dar'st thou Traytor on the Plain Appeach my Honour or thy own maintain Since thou art of my Council and the Friend Whose Faith I trust and on whose Care depend And would'st thou court my Ladies Love which I Much rather than release would chuse to die But thou false Arcite never shalt obtain Thy bad Pretence I told thee first my Pain For first my Love began e'er thine was born Thou as my Council and my Brother sworn Art bound t' assist my Eldership of Right Or justly to be deem'd a perjur'd Knight Thus Palamon But Arcite with disdain In haughty Language thus reply'd again Forsworn thy self The Traytor 's odious Name I first return and then disprove thy Claim If Love be Passion and that Passion nurst With strong Desires I lov'd the Lady first Canst thou pretend Desire whom Zeal inflam'd To worship and a Pow'r Coelestial nam'd Thine was Devotion to the Blest above I saw the Woman and desir'd her Love First own'd my Passion and to thee commend Th'important Secret as my chosen Friend Suppose which yet I grant not thy Desire A Moment elder than my Rival Fire Can Chance of seeing first thy Title prove And know'st thou not no Law is made for Love Law is to Things which to free Choice relate Love is not in our Choice but in our Fate Laws are but positive Loves Pow'r we see Is Natures Sanction and her first Decree Each Day we break the Bond of Humane Laws For Love and vindicate the Common Cause Laws for Defence of Civil Rights are plac'd Love throws the Fences down and makes a general Waste Maids Widows Wives without distinction fall The sweeping Deluge Love comes on and covers all If then the Laws of Friendship I transgress I keep the Greater while I break the Less And both are mad alike since neither can possess Both hopeless to be ransom'd never more To see the Sun but as he passes o'er Like Esop's Hounds contending for the Bone Each pleaded Right and wou'd be Lord alone The fruitless Fight continu'd all the Day A Cur came by and snatch'd the Prize away As Courtiers therefore justle for a Grant And when they break their Friendship plead their Want So thou if Fortune will thy Suit advance Love on nor envy me my equal Chance For I must love and am resolv'd to try My Fate or failing in th' Adventure die Great was their Strife which hourly was renew'd Till each with
Act arose And thus bespoke Pelides Care of Jove Favour'd of all th' Immortal Pow'rs above Wou'dst thou the Seeds deep sown of Mischief know And why provok'd Apollo bends his Bow Plight first thy Faith inviolably true To save me from those Ills that may ensue For I shall tell ungrateful Truths to those Whose boundless Pow'r of Life and Death dispose And Sov'reigns ever jealous of their State Forgive not those whom once they mark for Hate Ev'n tho' th' Offence they seemingly digest Revenge like Embers rak'd within their Breast Bursts forth in Flames whose unresisted Pow'r Will seize th' unwary Wretch and soon devour Such and no less is he on whom depends The sum of Things and whom my Tongue of force offends Secure me then from his foreseen Intent That what his Wrath may doom thy Valour may prevent To this the stern Achilles made Reply Be bold and on my plighted Faith rely To speak what Phoebus has inspir'd thy Soul For common Good and speak without controul His Godhead I invoke by him I swear That while my Nostrils draw this vital Air None shall presume to violate those Bands Or touch thy Person with unhallow'd Hands Ev'n not the King of Men that all commands At this resuming Heart the Prophet said Nor Hecatombs unslain nor Vows unpaid On Greeks accurs'd this dire Contagion bring Or call for Vengeance from the Bowyer King But he the Tyrant whom none dares resist Affronts the Godhead in his injur'd Priest He keeps the Damsel Captive in his Chain And Presents are refus'd and Pray'rs preferr'd in vain For this th' avenging Pow'r employs his Darts And empties all his Quiver in our Hearts Thus will persist relentless in his Ire Till the fair Slave be render'd to her Syre And Ransom-free restor'd to his Abode With Sacrifice to reconcile the God Then he perhaps atton'd by Pray'r mav cease His Vengeance justly vow'd and give the Peace Thus having said he sate Thus answer'd then Upstarting from his Throne the King of Men His Breast with Fury fill'd his Eyes with Fire Which rowling round he shot in Sparkles on the Sire Augur of Ill whose Tongue was never found Without a Priestly Curse or boding Sound For not one bless'd Event foretold to me Pass'd through that Mouth or pass'd unwillingly And now thou dost with Lies the Throne invade By Practice harden'd in thy sland'ring Trade Obtending Heav'n for what e'er Ills befal And sputtring under specious Names thy Gall. Now Phoebus is provok'd his Rites and Laws Are in his Priest profan'd and I the Cause Since I detain a Slave my Sov'reign Prize And sacred Gold your Idol-God despise I love her well And well her Merits claim To stand preferr'd before my Grecian Dame Not Clytemnestra's self in Beauties Bloom More charm'd or better ply'd the various Loom Mine is the Maid and brought in happy Hour With every Houshold-grace adorn'd to bless my Nuptial Bow'r Yet shall she be restor'd since publick Good For private Int'rest ought not be withstood To save th' Effusion of my People's Blood But Right requires if I resign my own I shou'd not suffer for your sakes alone Alone excluded from the Prize I gain'd And by your common Suffrage have obtain'd The Slave without a Ransom shall be sent It rests for you to make th' Equivalent To this the fierce Thessalian Prince reply'd O first in Pow'r but passing all in Pride Griping and still tenacious of thy Hold Would'st thou the Grecian Chiefs though largely Sould Shou'd give the Prizes they had gain'd before And with their Loss thy Sacrilege restore Whate'er by force of Arms the Soldier got Is each his own by dividend of Lot Which to resume were both unjust and base Not to be born but by a servile Race But this we can If Saturn's Son bestows The Sack of Troy which he by Promise owes Then shall the conquering Greeks thy Loss restore And with large Int'rest make th' advantage more To this Atrides answer'd Though thy Boast Assumes the foremost Name of all our Host Pretend not mighty Man that what is mine Controll'd by thee I tamely shou'd resign Shall I release the Prize I gain'd by Right In taken Towns and many a bloody Fight While thou detain'st Briseis in thy Bands By priestly glossing on the God's Commands Resolve on this a short Alternative Quit mine or in exchange another give Else I assure thy Soul by Sov'reign Right Will seize thy Captive in thy own Despight Or from stout Ajax or Ulysses bear What other Prize my Fancy shall prefer Then softly murmur or aloud complain Rage as you please you shall resist in vain But more of this in proper Time and Place To Things of greater moment let us pass A Ship to fail the sacred Seas prepare Proud in her Trim and put on board the Fair With Sacrifice and Gifts and all the pomp of Pray'r The Crew well chosen the Command shall be In Ajax or if other I decree In Creta's King or Ithacus or if I please in Thee Most fit thy self to see perform'd th' intent For which my Pris'ner from my Sight is sent Thanks to thy pious Care that Phoebus may relent At this Achilles roul'd his furious Eyes Fix'd on the King askant and thus replies O Impudent regardful of thy own Whose Thoughts are center'd on thy self alone Advanc'd to Sovereign Sway for better Ends Than thus like abject Slaves to treat thy Friends What Greek is he that urg'd by thy Command Against the Trojan Troops will lift his Hand Not I Nor such inforc'd Respect I owe Nor Pergamus I hate nor Priam is my Foe What Wrong from Troy remote cou'd I sustain To leave my fruitful Soil and happy Reign And plough the Surges of the stormy Main Thee frontless Man we follow'd from afar Thy Instruments of Death and Tools of War Thine is the Triumph ours the Toil alone We bear thee on our Backs and mount thee on the Throne For thee we fall in Fight for thee redress Thy baffled Brother not the Wrongs of Greece And now thou threaten'st with unjust Decree To punish thy affronting Heav'n on me To seize the Prize which I so dearly bought By common Suffrage giv'n confirm'd by Lot Mean Match to thine For still above the rest Thy hook'd rapacious Hands usurp the best Though mine are first in Fight to force the Prey And last sustain the Labours of the Day Nor grudge I thee the much the Grecians give Nor murm'ring take the little I receive Yet ev'n this little thou who woud'st ingross The whole Insatiate envy'st as thy Loss Know then for Phthya fix'd is my return Better at home my ill-paid Pains to mourn Than from an Equal here sustain the publick Scorn The King whose Brows with shining Gold were bound Who saw his Throne with scepter'd Slaves incompass'd round Thus answer'd stern Go at thy Pleasure go We need not such a Friend nor fear we such a Foe There will not want to follow me in Fight Jove
never must the Council share One gracious Word is for a Wife too much Such is a Marriage-Vow and Jove's own Faith is such Then thus the Sire of Gods and Men below What I have hidden hope not thou to know Ev'n Goddesses are Women And no Wife Has Pow'r to regulate her Husband's Life Counsel she may and I will give thy Ear The Knowledge first of what is fit to hear What I transact with others or alone Beware to learn nor press too near the Throne To whom the Goddess with the charming Eyes What hast thou said O Tyrant of the Skies When did I search the Secrets of thy Reign Though priviledg'd to know but priviledg'd in vain But well thou dost to hide from common Sight Thy close Intrigues too bad to bear the Light Nor doubt I but the Silver-footed Dame Tripping from Sea on such an Errand came To grace her Issue at the Grecians Cost And for one peevish Man destroy an Host. To whom the Thund'rer made this stern Reply My Houshold Curse my lawful Plague the Spy Of Jove's Designs his other squinting Eye Why this vain prying and for what avail Jove will be Master still and Juno fail Shou'd thy suspicious Thoughts divine aright Thou but becom'st more odlous to my Sight For this Attempt uneasy Life to me Still watch'd and importun'd but worse for thee Curb that impetuous Tongue before too late The Gods behold and tremble at thy Fate Pitying but daring not in thy Defence To lift a Hand against Omnipotence This heard the Imperious Queen sate mute with Fear Nor further durst incense the gloomy Thunderer Silence was in the Court at this Rebuke Nor cou'd the Gods abash'd sustain their Sov'reigns Look The Limping Smith observ'd the sadden'd Feast And hopping here and there himself a Jest Put in his Word that neither might offend To Jove obsequious yet his Mother's Friend What end in Heav'n will be of civil War If Gods of Pleasure will for Mortals jar Such Discord but disturbs our Jovial Feast One Grain of Bad embitters all the best Mother tho' wise your self my Counsel weigh 'T is much unsafe my Sire to disobey Not only you provoke him to your Cost But Mirth is marr'd and the good Chear is lost Tempt not his heavy Hand for he has Pow'r To throw you Headlong from his Heav'nly Tow'r But one submissive 〈◊〉 which you let fall Will make 〈◊〉 good 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 All. He said no more but crown'd a Bowl unbid The laughing Nectar overlook'd the Lid Then put it to her Hand and thus pursu'd This cursed Quarrel be no more renew'd Be as becomes a Wife 〈◊〉 still Though griev'd yet subject to her Husband 's Will. I wou'd not see you beaten yet affraid Of Jove's superiour Force I dare not aid Too well I know him since that hapless Hour When I and all the Gods employ'd our Pow'r To break your Bonds Me by the Heel he drew And o'er Heav'n's Battlements with Fury threw All Day I fell My Flight at Morn begun And ended not but with the setting Sun Pitch'd on my Head at length the Lemnian ground Receiv'd my batter'd Skull the Sinthians heal'd my Wound At Vulcan's homely Mirth his Mother smil'd And smiling took the Cup the Clown had fill'd The Reconciler Bowl went round the Board Which empty'd the rude Skinker still restor'd Loud Fits of Laughter seiz'd the Guests to see The limping God so deft at his new Ministry The Feast continu'd till declining Light They drank they laugh'd they lov'd and then 't was Night Nor wanted tuneful Harp nor vocal Quire The Muses sung Apollo touch'd the Lyre Drunken at last and drowsy they depart Each to his House Adorn'd with labour'd Art Of the lame Architect The thund'ring God Ev'n he withdrew to rest and had his Load His swimming Head to needful Sleep apply'd And Juno lay unheeded by his Side THE COCK and the FOX OR THE TALE OF THE NUN's PRIEST FROM CHAUCER THE COCK and the FOX OR THE TALE OF THE NUN's PRIEST THere liv'd as Authors tell in Days of Yore A Widow somewhat old and very poor 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Cottage lonely stood Well thatch'd and under covert of a Wood. This Dowager on whom my Tale I found Since last she laid her Husband in the Ground A simple sober Life in patience led And had but just enough to buy her Bread But Huswifing the little Heav'n had lent She duly paid a Groat for Quarter-Rent A Yard she had with Pales enclos'd about Some high some low and a dry Ditch without Within this Homestead liv'd without a Peer For crowing loud the noble Chanticleer So hight her Cock whose singing did surpass The merry Notes of Organs at the Mass. More certain was the crowing of a Cock To number Hours than is an Abbey-clock And sooner than the Mattin-Bell was rung He clap'd his Wings upon his Roost and sung For when Degrees fifteen ascended right By sure Instinct he knew 't was One at Night High was his Comb and Coral-red withal In dents embattel'd like a Castle-Wall His Bill was Raven-black and shon like Jet Blue were his Legs and Orient were his Feet White were his Nails like Silver to behold His Body glitt'ring like the burnish'd Gold This gentle Cock for solace of his Life Six Misses had beside his lawful Wife Scandal that spares no King tho' ne'er so good Says they were all of his own Flesh and Blood His Sisters both by Sire and Mother's side And sure their likeness show'd them near ally'd But make the worst the Monarch did no more Than all the Ptolomey's had done before When Incest is for Int'rest of a Nation 'T is made no Sin by Holy Dispensation Some Lines have been maintain'd by this alone Which by their common Ugliness are known But passing this as from our Tale apart Dame Partlet was the Soveraign of his Heart Ardent in Love outragious in his Play He feather'd her a hundred times a Day And she that was not only passing fair But was withal discreet and debonair Resolv'd the passive Doctrin to fulfil Tho' loath And let him work his wicked Will At Board and Bed was affable and kind According as their Marriage-Vow did bind And as the Churches Precept had enjoin'd Ev'n since she was a Sennight old they say Was chast and humble to her dying Day Nor Chick nor Hen was known to disobey By this her Husband's Heart she did obtain What cannot Beauty join'd with Virtue gain She was his only Joy and he her Pride She when he walk'd went pecking by his side If spurning up the Ground he sprung a Corn The Tribute in his Bill to her was born But oh what Joy it was to hear him sing In Summer when the Day began to spring Stretching his Neck and warbling in his Throat Solus cum Sola then was all his Note For in the Days of Yore the Birds of Parts Were bred to Speak and Sing and learn the lib'ral Arts. It happ'd that perching on the
bore aloft her Scepter of Command Admir'd ador'd by all the circling Crowd For wheresoe'er she turn'd her Face they bow'd And as she danc'd a Roundelay she sung In honour of the Lawrel ever young She rais'd her Voice on high and sung so clear The Fawns came scudding from the Groves to hear And all the bending Forest lent an Ear. At ev'ry Close she made th' attending Throng Reply'd and bore the Burden of the Song So just so small yet in so sweet a Note It seem'd the Musick melted in the Throat Thus dancing on and singing as they danc'd They to the middle of the Mead advanc'd Till round my Arbour a new Ring they made And footed it about the secret Shade O'erjoy'd to see the jolly Troop so near But somewhat aw'd I shook with holy Fear Yet not so much but that I noted well Who did the most in Song or Dance excel Not long I had observ'd when from afar I heard a suddain Symphony of War The neighing Coursers and the Soldiers cry And sounding Trumps that seem'd to tear the Sky I saw soon after this behind the Grove From whence the Ladies did in order move Come issuing out in Arms a Warrior-Train That like a Deluge pour'd upon the Plain On barbed Steeds they rode in proud Array Thick as the College of the Bees in May When swarming o'er the dusky Fields they fly New to the Flow'rs and intercept the Sky So fierce they drove their Coursers were so fleet That the Turf trembled underneath their Feet To tell their costly Furniture were long The Summers Day wou'd end before the Song To purchase but the Tenth of all their Store Would make the mighty Persian Monarch poor Yet what I can I will before the rest The Trumpets issu'd in white Mantles dress'd A numerous Troop and all their Heads around With Chaplets green of Cerrial-Oak were crown'd And at each Trumpet was a Banner bound Which waving in the Wind display'd at large Their Master's Coat of Arms and Knightly Charge Broad were the Banners and of snowy Hue A purer Web the Silk-worm never drew The chief about their Necks the Scutcheons wore With Orient Pearls and Jewels pouder'd o'er Broad were their Collars too and ev'ry one Was set about with many a costly Stone Next these of Kings at Arms a goodly Train In proud Array came prancing o'er the Plain Their Cloaks were Cloth of Silver mix'd with Gold And Garlands green arround their Temples roll'd Rich Crowns were on their royal Scutcheons plac'd With Saphires Diamonds and with Rubies grac'd And as the Trumpets their appearance made So these in Habits were alike array'd But with a Pace more sober and more slow And twenty Rank in Rank they rode a-row The Pursevants came next in number more And like the Heralds each his Scutcheon bore Clad in white Velvet all their Troop they led With each an Oaken Chaplet on his Head Nine royal Knights in equal Rank succeed Each Warrior mounted on a fiery Steed In golden Armour glorious to behold The Rivets of their Arms were nail'd with Gold Their Surcoats of white Ermin-Fur were made With Cloth of Gold between that cast a glitt'ring Shade The Trappings of their Steeds were of the same The golden Fringe ev'n set the Ground on flame And drew a precious Trail A Crown divine Of Lawrel did about their Temples twine Three Henchmen were for ev'ry Knight assign'd All in rich Livery clad and of a kind White Velvet but unshorn for Cloaks they wore And each within his Hand a Truncheon bore The foremost held a Helm of rare Device A Prince's Ransom wou'd not pay the Price The second bore the Buckler of his Knight The third of Cornel-Wood a Spear upright Headed with piercing Steel and polish'd bright Like to their Lords their Equipage was seen And all their Foreheads crown'd with Garlands green And after these came arm'd with Spear and Shield An Host so great as cover'd all the Field And all their Foreheads like the Knights before With Lawrels ever green were shaded o'er Or Oak or other Leaves of lasting kind Tenacious of the Stem and firm against the Wind. Some in their Hands besides the Lance and Shield The Boughs of Woodbind or of Hauthorn held Or Branches for their mistique Emblems took Of Palm of Lawrel or of Cerrial Oak Thus marching to the Trumpets lofty sound Drawn in two Lines adverse they wheel'd around And in the middle Meadow took their Ground Among themselves the Turney they divide In equal Squadrons rang'd on either side Then turn'd their Horses Heads and Man to Man And Steed to Steed oppos'd the Justs began They lightly set their Lances in the rest And at the Sign against each other press'd They met I sitting at my Ease beheld The mix'd Events and Fortunes of the Field Some broke their Spears some tumbled Horse and Man And round the Fields the lighten'd Courses ran An Hour and more like Tides in equal sway They rush'd and won by turns and lost the Day At length the Nine who still together held Their fainting Foes to shameful Fight compell'd And with resistless Force o'er-ran the Field Thus to their Fame when finish'd was the Fight The Victors from their lofty Steeds alight Like them dismounted all the Warlike Train And two by two proceeded o'er the Plain Till to the fair Assembly they advanc'd Who near the secret Arbour sung and danc'd The Ladies left their Measures at the Sight To meet the Chiefs returning from the Fight And each with open Arms embrac'd her chosen Knight Amid the Plain a spreading Lawrel stood The Grace and Ornament of all the Wood That pleasing Shade they sought a soft retreat From suddain April Show'rs a Shelter from the Heat Her leavy Arms with such extent were spread So near the Clouds was her aspiring Head That Hosts of Birds that wing the liquid Air Perch'd in the Boughs had nightly Lodging there And Flocks of Sheep beneath the Shade from far Might hear the ratling Hail and wintry War From Heav'ns Inclemency here found retreat Enjoy'd the cool and shun'd the scorching Heat A hundred Knights might there at Ease abide And ev'ry Knight a Lady by his side The Trunk it self such Odours did bequeath That a Moluccan Breeze to these was common Breath The Lords and Ladies here approaching paid Their Homage with a low Obeisance made And seem'd to venerate the sacred Shade These Rites perform'd their Pleasures they pursue With Songs of Love and mix with Measures new Around the holy Tree their Dance they frame And ev'ry Champion leads his chosen Dame I cast my Sight upon the farther Field And a fresh Object of Delight beheld For from the Region of the West I heard New Musick sound and a new Troop appear'd Of Knights and Ladies mix'd a jolly Band But all on Foot they march'd and Hand in Hand The Ladies dress'd in rich Symarrs were seen Of Florence Satten flow'r'd with White and Green And for a Shade betwixt