The thing was told To many Shepheards more that dare be bold To call it Truth to Shepheards that were by That heard and saw and shook as well as I. His face was like the visage of a Childe Round smooth and plump and oftentimes it smil'd It glow'd like fier and his rowling eyes Cast flames like Lightning darted from the skyes His haire was long and curl'd and did infold Like knots of wire compos'd of burnisht Gold His body was uncloath'd His skin did show More white then Iv'ry or the new-faln snow Whose perfect whitenesse made a circling light That where it stood it silverd o're the night And as he spake his wings would now and then Spread as he meant to flye then close agen This news he brought 'T was neither Fame nor I That forg'd it Swain Good Angels cannot lye Canst thou beleeve it If thy faith be strong My greater Tidings shall enlarge my tongue VIG I doe Evangelus though for a season My faith was tyding on the streames of reason Yet now the gale of thy report shall drive Her sailes another course my thoughts shall strive Against that streame and what I cannot understand with my heart I will beleeve and wonder But tell me Swaine what happinesse accrews From this Or else relate thy better news EVANG. Then know Vigilius whilst the Angell spake My spirits trembled and my loines did ake Horror and heart-amazing feares possest The fainting powers of my troubled brest And struck my frighted soule into a swound That I lay senselesse prostrate on the ground With that he stretcht his life-restoring arme He rais'd me up and bid me feare no harme Feare not said he I come not to affright Thy gaster'd soule with terrours of the night My errand Shepheard is not to abuse Thine eyes with horrid shapes I bring thee news Tidings of joy and everlasting peace Stand up and let thy faithlesse trembling cease Collect thy scatter'd senses Swaine and heare The happiest newes that ever beg'd an eare Such news whereat th' harmonious quire of heaven Archangels Angels and the other seven Of those Celestiall Hierarchies the troop Of glorious Saints and soules of Prophets stoop Their joyfull eares and being fully freight With joyes sing forth Hosanna's to the height This night a Virgin hath brought forth a Son A perfect God though clad in flesh and bone Like mortall man th' eternall Prince of Rest And Peace in whom all nations shall be blest This night a Virgin hath brought forth a Child A perfect Man but pure and undefil'd With guilt of sin like you in shape and fashion And for your sakes as subject to your passion A perfect God whose selfe-subsisting nature Required not the help of a Creator A perfect man conceived by the power Of th' holy Ghost and borne this very hower A perfect God beyond the comprehending Of man and infinite without an ending A perfect man objected to the eye And touch of Flesh and Blood and borne to dye Like God eternall yet his life a span Like yours a perfect God a perfect man To you a Son is given the heire of glory Whose Kingdome 's endlesse and untransitory To you a child is borne that shall succeed That princely David and of Davids seed A Son is given whose name redeem'd the earth A world of daies before his mothers birth A Child is borne whose last expiring breath Shall give new dayes and dying conquer death A Son a Child compos'd of Earth and Heaven To you a Child is borne a Son is given We blessed Angels have no need at all Of such a Saviour for we cannnot fall The damned spirits of th' Infernall Throne Receive no profit by this Childe this Son To you the glory of so great a gain Belongs To you these tidings appertain To you thrice happy sons of men we bring This welcome errand from th' eternall King Of endlesse mercy the great Lord of Heaven To you this Childe is born this Son is given Goe Shepheards goe to Bethlem and your eyes Shall see the Babe The blessed Infant lyes In a poor Stable swadled in a Manger Goe Swains and entertain this heavenly Stranger Upon your bended knees See yonder Starre Shall be your Pilot where these wonders are And as he spake that word not fully ended Ten thousand Angels in a Troop descended But here my tongue must fail not having might To tell the glory of that glorious sight Nay had I power thine ears would prove as weak To apprehend as my poor tongue 's to speak They joyn'd their warbling notes and in a height Beyond the curious frailty of conceit Their voices sweetned our delighted fears And with this Caroll blest our ravisht ears GLory to God on high and jolly mirth Twixt man and man and peace on earth This night a childe is born This night a Son is given This Son this Childe Hath reconcil'd Poor man that was forlorne And th' angry God of heaven Hosanna sing Hosanna Now now that joyfull Day That blessed howre is come That was foretold In dayes of old Wherein all nations may Blesse blesse the Virgins wombe Hosanna sing Hosanna Let heaven triumph above Let earth rejoyce below Let heaven and earth Be fill'd with mirth For peace and lasting love Atones your God and you Hosanna sing Hosanna With that their Air-dividing plumes they spred And with Hosanna in their mouths they fled But Shepheard ah how far does my report Ah how extreamly my poor words come short To blaze such glory How have I transgrest T' expresse such Raptures not to be exprest VIG O Swain how could I lose my self to hear Thy blest discourse O how my greedy ear Clings to thy cordiall lips whose soveraign breath Brings Antidotes against the fangs of death How happy are these times How blest are wee Above all ages that are born to see This joyfull day whose glory was deny'd To Kings and holy Prophets that rely'd Upon the self-same hopes How more then they Are we poor Shepheards blest to see this day EVANG. O Shepheard had our Princely David seen This happy how'r how had his spirit been Inflam'd with Joy and Zeal What heavenly skill Had passion lent to his diviner Quill What Odes what Lyrick Raptures had inspir'd His ravisht soul that was already fir'd With hopes alone that these rare things should bee In after days which now his eyes should see VIG No question but an infinite delight Had easily sprung from so divine a sight It had bin Joy sufficient that a Sonne Was born to sit upon his Princely Throne O but that Son to be a Saviour too Able to conquer death and overthrow The very Gates of Hell and by his breath To drag his soul from the deep Jaile of death Had bin a Joy too high to be exprest By tongues or trusted to a common brest But hold whilst we endevour to make known Anothers Joy we o're neglect our own The day is broke The Eastern Lamps begin To fail and draw
the bright eye of day That in twelve measur'd howers does survay The moity of this earth did ne'er behold More glorious Pastures Nay I dare be bold With awefull reverence to our great God Pan To say that heaven could not devise on man A Good we had not nor augment our store If earth makes happy with one blessing more Our flocks were faire and fruitfull and stood sound Our grounds enricht them they enricht the ground The Alpine mountaines could not boast nor show So pure a whitenesse white surpassing snow Our ub'rous Ewes were evermore supply'd With twins attending upon either side Whose milk-abounding bags did overflow They fed our Lambs and fill'd our dayry too In those past daies our Shepheards knew not what Red-water meant that common language Rott Was neither fear'd nor knowne nor did they feare That heart-confounding name of Massacre There was no putrid Scabbe to exercise The malice of the maggot-blowing flies Whose Prince Belzebub if report be true Breath'd forth his loud Retreat and raging drew His buzzing Army thence and for a time Led them to forage in another Clime And to conclude no Shepheard ere did keep More thriving grounds nor grounds more dainty sheep O my Britannus in those halcyon daies Our jolly Shepheards thirsted after praise Not servil wages They were then ambitious Of Fame whose flocks should be the most auspicious Who by most care should most encrease their fold They hunted after faire report not Gold They were good Shepheards and they lov'd their sheep Watch'd day and night One eye would never sleep Small Cottages would serve their turnes That day Knew no such things as Robes A Shepheards gray Would cloath their backs for being homly drest Their sheep whose fleece they wore would know them best They were good Shepheards seldome durst they feed On Cates or drink the Juice that does proceed From dangerous vines for feare the fumes should steep Their braines too much and they neglect their sheep They were good Shepheards these would every day Twise tell their flocks and then at night convay A secret blessing got by fervent prayer Into their peacefull bosomes unaware They were good Shepheards They would even lay downe Their dearest lives nay more the eternall Crowne Of promis'd Immortality to keep Their lambs from danger and preserve their sheep But now ah now those precious daies are done With us poore Shepheards ah those times are gone Gone like our joyes and never to returne Our joyes are gone and we left here to mourne Let this relation of those times of old Suffice the rest were better be untold BRIT My dearest Gallio had it pleased heaven I wish no further matter had been given To thy discourse it would have pleas'd mine eare And eas'd thy tongue t' have pitch'd thy period here But since our God that can doe nothing ill Hath sent a Change we must submit our will What he hath made the subject of thy story Feare not to tell his ends are his own glory There 's nothing constant here the States of Kings As well as Shepheards are but tickle things Good daies on earth continue but a while We must have vinegar as well as oyle There must be rubs can earth admit all levell The hist'ry of a State is good and evill Speake then my Gallio this attentive eare Can not heare worse then 't is prepar'd to heare GALL Know'st thou Britannus what in daies of old Our great God Pan by Oracle foretold Of that brave City whose proud buildings stood As firme as earth till stain'd with Shepheards blood That there 's a time should come wherein not one Should live to see a stone upon a stone And is not now that prophecy made good Growes not grasse there where these proud buildings stood Nay my Britannus what concernes us more Did not that Oracle in times of yore Threaten to send his Foxes from their Holds Into our Vines and Wolves into our Folds To breake our Fences and to make a way For the wilde Boare to ramble and to prey Where ere he pleas'd O gentle Shepheard thus Thus that prophetick evill 's made good in us Our Hedge is broken and our Pastures yeeld But slender profit All 's turn'd Common-field Our Trenches are fill'd up our crystall Springs Are choak'd with Earth and Trash and baser things Our Shepheards are growne Plough-men all and now Our generous Crooke is turn'd a crooked Plough Shepheards build Halls and carry Princely ports Their woolls are chang'd to silks their Cotts to Courts They must have hospitable Barnes to keep Riot on foot no matter now for Sheep Turne them to graze upon the common Fallowes Whilst the luxurious Shepheard swills and wallowes In his own vomit Having swallowed downe Goblets of wine he snorts in beds of Doun Whilst his poore Lambs his poore neglected Lambs Bend fruitless knees before their milkless Dams Nay my Britannus now these pamper'd Swaines Are grown so idle that they think it paines To sheare their fleeces No they must be pickt And rins'd in holy-water they are strict To touch defiled things must be presented Upon the knee as if they had repented Their service and for which they must deserve But what A Dispensation now to sterve BRIT But stay my Gallio let not my attention Too farre exceed my slower apprehension 'T is better manners t' interrupt then heare Things serious with an ill-instructed eare Make me conceive your forain acceptation Of that ambiguous word of Dispensation GALL It is a tearm that forain Shepheards use Too much I was about to say abuse In elder times when Pastors tooke delight To feed their flocks and not their appetite It was a word exprest now faln asleep To that true sense A feeding of the sheep But now 't is alter'd and it does appeare Diffring as much as they from what they were And if your gentle patience will excuse it A word too much shall tell you how they use it In times of yore the pious minded Swaine Finding base Sodomy and Incest raigne In looser brests taught their obedient Sheep T' observe those laws that Goats refus'd to keep Forbidding Twins to couple and the Rams To take a â—arnall knowledge of their Dams To which intent it was their studious care To severall such flocks as might not paire So much those holy Swaines abominated Unnaturall Incest as we finde related That even among their sheep they thought it good To punish such enormous crimes with bloud Not to be us'd for sacrifice nor food But now Britannus times are growne more course Declin'd from good to bad from bad to worse Those rules are broke by these licentious times Lawes are esteem'd no lawes and crimes no crimes 'T is true our Rascall-sheep whose fly-blown skin Hath lost her fleece and brings no profit in To such the law continues firm and strict On such the hand of justice does inflict The height of law But those whose fleecy loines Beare thriving burdens there th' Edict injoines An easie
my Zenith and go hence To waile this fruitlesse howers misexpence And pray to heaven that heaven would please to keep Such Goats still separated from my sheep EGLOGVE IX Iudex Romastix Flambello JUD THis is the place the hower this the tree Beneath whose hospitable shades must be This challeng'd combat But the champions stay Exceeds their limits 'T is an equall lay That neither come they were so hot last night 'T is like their quarrell ended with the light But who comes yonder Look methinks't should be By 's gate Romastix No 't is not 't is he Me thinks his posture prophecies of Palmes Before th' encounter see how sweat imbalmes His varnisht Temples How each envious pace Vies to be first and eches for the place He 's neer at hand Champion let faire applause Crown your intended combat let your Cause Thrive as it merits let this morning jarre Bring forth an Evening peace the Child of warre Let Truth prevaile at last and let heaven send First a faire Enemy next a faithfull Friend ROM Thanks gentle Iudex for the last I durst Assure my selfe in thee but where 's the first Where 's our brave Enemy whose very breath Last night could puffe an Heretick to death Then by the vertue of St. Francis name Could snatch a well broyl'd soule from the sad flame Of Purgatory from the sulph'rous flashes Of hells hot Suburbs and inspire his ashes With a new Catholike soule whose knee shall gain Salvation from a Puppit for the pain Of twenty Pater nosters and thrice seaven Repeated Ave's to the Queen of heaven But look Am I deceiv'd Or doe I see Our Boanarges comming JUD Sure 't is hee ROM 'T is he Heaven grant that his discourse may trace A measure but as sober as his pace Lord how his tongue last evening shot at rover Sometimes how wide it shot How sometimes over How like a new broke Colt he pranc'd about Sometimes stept orderly sometimes flew out His hot-mouth'd argument would for a space Srike a good stroke then straight forsake his pace How his discretion sunk while his tongue floted His wit falsegallop'd while his judgment trotted But here he comes JUD The blessings of the day Greets thee FLAM And let the glory of the fray Crown my triumphant Browes with conquest ROM stay Take my God-morrow first and then inherit stay The Crown that shall be purchas'd by thy merit And justnesse of thy well defended cause FLAM The like to thee JUD But let the chief applause Be given to Truth which must and will prevaile How ever you defend or he assaile She does not like a thredbare Client sue For help nor does her cause subsist by you But like a Queen sits in her Palace royall To judge betwixt the Rebel and the Loyall Then quit your selves and let the day proclame Who 's the true Subject Truth is still the same Romastix this your first arrivall here Gives you precedence you shall truely sweare No private grudge nor no malicious end Of base revenge did move you to contend In these fair lists no itch of vaine applause But a true thirst t' advance the publike cause ROM I doe JUD And you Flambello too shall sweare You try this combat with a conscience cleare From by-respects of preadvised hate Or spleen of later or of elder date And that you aime not at a private foe But at the glory of the Truth FLAM I doe JUD Then Champions too t you cannot be too stern In Truths behalfe 't is best to be altern For mutuall language works a faire conclusion Truth is the Queene of order not confusion ROM I here appeach Flambello as a High Traitor to the sacred Crown and dignity Of Soveraign Truth a Rebel to her Lawes A private Iudas to the publike Cause FLAM Blisters o th' tongue that speaks it He that durst Proclaim and not maintain it be accurst ROM They 'r Traitours rob their Soveraign of their due You doe the same and therefore such are you FLAM You argue with lesse Charity then Art Your halting Minor 's false as your own heart ROM He that invests another in the Throne Of Truth or owns a Prince but Truth alone Robs his own Soveraign But such are you You therefore rob your Soveraign of her due FLAM You plead for Truth and yet you speak beside The Text of Truth your Minor is denyed ROM They that prefer their own brain-bred Traditions Before her perfect Laws make here additions And there Abstractions from her sacred hests Depose the old and a new Prince invests But you prefer Traditions therefore you Depose the old Prince and invest a new FLAM The selfe-same Spirit that inspir'd the words Of holy Prophets in old time affords Vndoubted Truth to the most just Traditions Of holy Councels whose divine Commissions Make it a perfect Truth which they averre Confirmed by a Head that cannot erre ROM Admit all this Can very Truth take place Of very Truth Has Truth a double face How can the wav'ring will of man be guided Betwixt two Sp'rits at least one Sp'rit divided But say upon what shoulders grows that Head That cannot erre that cannot be misled What is he Where is his abode That I May bow my knees and worship ere I dye FLAM It is our holy Father He that keeps The keys of heaven and of th' Infernall deeps He that has power with those sacred keyes To open heaven and lock it when he please To open Hels broad portals and let out His dire Anathemaes to scourge the stout Rebellious heart and Legions to devour All such as will not prostrate to his Powre And high Omnipotency but rebell Against the Chamberlain of Heaven ROM And Hell But tell me to what sort of souls does he Expand the Gates of heaven FLAM To such as be Obedient to his laws whose purged hearts Have felt the flames of Purgatory and smarts Of holy Penance that observe and do All things his Holinesse enjoyns them to The Gates of Heaven stand ope for such as these ROM If he be paid for turning of the keyes What sort of sins unlock the gates of Hell FLAM The disobedient hearts that puffe and swell Against his Government To such as dare Question the Councels of our holy Chaire To Hereticks and such as plot revenge These are the Card'nall sins that greaze the henge ROM But what betides to riotous Gluttons then Hell-tutor'd Sorcerers and incestuous men Unnat'rall Sodomites and the brasse-brow'd Lyer Those that give false Commissions nay and hyer Perverted subjects to dissolve their bands Of abjur'd Loyalty and lay violent hands On their own Princes Are th' Infernall keys Lesse nimble to unlock Hels gate for these FLAM These break the dores and rend the Portals ope Unlesse the grace of our Lord God the Pope Give former Dispensation or at least An after Pardon ROM I conceiv'd the best Your Al-sufficient Popes could doe had bin God-like to pardon a forsaken sin But to afford a