The Orient Pearle chain'd to the sooty Moore So hath the Diamonds bright ray been set In night and wed ded to the Negro-Jet See see how thick those flowers of Pearle do fall To weep her ransome or her funerall Whose every treasur'd drop congeal'd might bring Freedome and Ransome to a fett'red King While tyrant wealth stands by and laughs to see How he can wed love and Antipathy Hymen thy pine burnes with adulterate fire Thou and thy quiver'd boy did once conspire To mingle equall flames and then no shine Of Gold but beauty dress'd the Paphian Shrine Roses and Lillies kiss'd the Amorous Vine Did with the faire and straight limb'd Elme entwine The Glance COld vertue guard me or I shall endure From the next Glance a double Calenture Of fire and lust two flames two Semeleis Dwell in those eyes whose looser glowing raies Would thaw the frozen Russian into lust And parch the Negroes hotter blood to dust Dart not your Balls of Wild-fire here go throw Those flakes upon the Eunuchs colder Snow Till he in active bloud do boile as high As he that made him so in Jealousie When the loose Queene of Love did dresse her eyes In the most taking flame to win the prize At Ida that faint glare to this desire Burnt like a Taper to the Zone of fire And could she then the lustfull youth have crown'd With thee his Hellen Troy had never found Her fate in Sinon's fire thy hotter eyes Had made it burne a quicker Sacrifice To lust whilst every glance in subtile wiles Had shot it selfe like lightning through the piles Go blow upon some equall blood and let Earths hotter ray engender and beget New flames to dresse the aged Paphians Quire And lend the world new Cupids borne on fire Dart no more here those flames nor strive to throw Your fire on him who is immur'd in Snow Those Glances worke on me like the weake shine The frosty Sun throwes on the Appenine When the hils active coldnesse doth go neere To freeze the glimmering Taper to his Spheare Each ray is lost on me like the faint light The Glow-worme shoots at the cold breast of night Thus Vertue can secure but for that Name I had been now sins Martyr and your flame A Sonnet FLattering hope away and leave me She 'll not come thou dost deceive me Harke the Cock crows th' envious light Chides away the silent night Yet she comes not oh how I tyre Betwixt cold feare and hot desire Here alone enforc'd to tarry While the tedious Minutes marry And get houres those daies and yeeres Which I count with sighs and feares Yet she comes not oh how I tyre Betwixt cold feare and hot desire Restlesse thoughts a while remove Unto the bosome of my Love Let her languish in my paine Feare and hope and feare againe Then let her tell me in loves fire What torment 's like unto desire Endlesse wishing tedious longing Hopes and feares together thronging Rich in dreames yet poore in waking Let her be in such a taking Then let her tell me in loves fire What torment 's like unto desire Come then Love prevent daies eyâ—ing My desire would faine be dying Smother me with breathlesse kisses Let me dreame no more of blisses But tell me which is in Loves fire Best to enjoy or to desire True Beauty MAy I find a woman faire And her mind as cleare as Aire If her beauty goe alone 'T is to me as if 't were none May I find a woman rich And not of too high a pitch If that pride should cause disdaine Tell me Lover where 's thy gaine May I find a woman wise And her falsehood not disguise Hath she wit as she hath will Double arm'd she is to ill May I find a woman kind And not wavering like the wind How should I call that love mine When 't is his and his and thine May I find a woman true There is Beauties faired hue There is Beauty Love and Wit Happy he can compasse it The Indifferent NEver more will I protest To love a woman but in jest For as they cannot be true So to give each man his due When the woing fit is past Their affection cannot last Therefore if I chance to meet With a Mistris faire and sweet She my service shall obtaine Loving her for Love againe Thus much liberty I crave Not to be a constant slave But when we have try'd each other If she better like another Let her quickly change for me Then to change am I as free He or she that loves too long Sell their freedome for a song LOVES Freedome VVHy should man be only ty'd To a foolish Female thing When all Creatures else beside Birds and Beasts change every Spring Who would then to one be bound When so many may be found Why should I my selfe confine To the limits of one place When I have all Europe mine Where I list to run my race Who would then to one be bound When so many may be found Would you thinke him wise that now Still one sort of meat doth eat When both Sea and Land allow Sundry sorts of other meat Who would then to one be bound When so many may be found E're old Saturne chang'd his Throne Freedome raign'd and banish'd strife Where was he that knew his own Or who call'd a woman wife Who would then to one be bound When so many may be found Ten times happier are those men That enjoy'd those Golden daies Untill time redresse't againe I will never Hymen praise Who would then to one be bound When so many may be found On the Life Man LIke to the falling of a Star Or as the flights of Eagles are Or like the fresh Springs gaudy hue Or Silver drops of Morning dew Or like a wind that chafes the flood Or Bubbles which on water stood Even such is Man whose borrowed light Is straight call'd in and paid to night The wind blowes out the Bubble dies The Spring intomb'd in Autumn lies The dew's dry'd up the Star is shot The flight is past and man forgot An Epitaph HEre she lies whose spotlesse fame Invites a Stone to learne her Name The rigid Spartan that denied An Epitaph to all that died Unlesse for war on charity Would here vouchsafe an Elegie She died a Wife but yet her mind Beyond Virginity refin'd From lawlesse fire remain'd as free As now from heat her ashes be Her husband yet without a sin Was not a stranger but her kin That her chaste Love might seeme no other To her husband than a Brother Keep well this pawn thou Marble Chest Till it be call'd for let it rest For while this Jewell here is set The grave is like a Cabinet A Sonnet LIke a Ring without a Finger Or a Bell without a Ringer Like a horse was never ridden Or a Feast and no Guest bidden Like a well without a Bucket Or a Rose if no man pluck it Just such as these may she
STill doubtfull and perplexed too whether he Hath done Fletcher right in the History The Poet sits within since he must know it He with respect desires that you would shew it By some accustom'd signe if from our Action Or his Endeavours you meet satisfaction With ours he hath his ends we hope the best To make that certainty in you doth rest First Song to the Lovers Progresse ADieu fond Love farewell you wanton powers I am free againe Thou dull disease of bloud and idle houres Bewitching paine Fly to the Fooles that sigh away their time My Nobler love to heaven clime And there behold beauty still young That time can ne're corrupt nor death destroy Immortall sweetnesse by faire Angels sung And honour'd by eternity and joy There lives my Love thither my hopes aspire Fond love declines this heavenly love grows higher The second Song 'T Is late and cold stir up the fire Sit close and draw the Table nigher Be merry and drinke wine that 's old A hearty Med'cine ' gainst a cold Your beds of wanton down the best Where you shall tumble to your rest I could wish you wenches too But I am dead and cannot do Call for the best the house may ring Sack White and Claret let them bring And drinke apace while breath you have You 'l find but cold drinke in the grave Plover Partridge for your dinner And a Capen for the sinner You shall find ready when you are up And your horse shall have his sup Welcome shall fly round And I shall smile though under ground Songs to the Play called The Maid in the Mill. The first Song COme follow me you Country Lasses And you shall see such sport as passes You shall dance and I will sing Pedro he shall rub the string Each shall have a Loose-bodied Gown Of Greene and laugh till you lye down Come follow me come follow c. The second Song HOw long shall I pine for love How long shall I sue in vaine How long like the Turtle Dove Shall I heartily thus complaine Shall the sailes of my love stand still Shall the grists of my hopes be unground Oh fie oh fie oh fie Let the Mill let the Mill go round The third Song ON the bed I 'le throw thee throw thee down Down being laid shall we be afraid To try the rights that belong to love No no there I 'le wooe thee with a Crown Crown our desires kindle the fires When love requires we should wanton prove Wee 'l kisse wee 'l sport wee 'l laugh wee 'l play If thou com'st short for thee I 'le stay If thou unskilfull art the ground I 'le kindly teach wee 'le have the Mill go round The fourth Song THinke me still in my Fathers Mill Where I have oft been found a Throwne on my back on a well fill'd sack While the Mill has still gone round a Prethee Sirrah try thy skill And againe let the Mill go round a. The fifth Song THe young one the old one the fearefull the bold one The lame one though ne're so unsound The Jew or the Turke have leave for to worke The whil'st that the Mill goes round The Prologue to the Play called The Passionate Mad-man IT 's grown in fash'on of late in these daies To come and beg a suff'rance to our Plaies Faith Gentlemen our Poet ever writ Language so good mixt with such sprightly wit He made the Theatre so soveraigne With his rare Scenes he scorn'd this crouching veine We stab'd him with keene daggers when we pray'd Him write a Preface to a Play well made He could not write these toyes 't was easier far To bring a Fellon to appeare at th' Bar So much he hated basenesse which this day His Scenes will best convince you of in 's play The Epilogue OUr Poet bid us say for his own part He cannot lay too much forth of his Art But feares our over-acting Passions may As not adorne deface his labour'd Play Yet still he is res'lute for what is writ Of nicer valour and assumes the wit But for the love Sceanes which he ever meant Cupid in 's Petticoat should represent Hee 'l stand no shock of Censure the Play 's good He saies he knows it if well understood But we blind God beg if thou art divine Thou it shoot thy Arrowes round this Play was thine Songs to the Play called The Nice Valour Or The Passionate Mad-man The first Song THou Deity swift winged love Sometimes below sometimes above Little in shape but great in power Thou that makest a heart thy Tower And thy loope-holes Ladies eyes From whence thou strik'st the fond and wise Did all the shafts in thy faire Quiver Stick fast in my ambitious Liver Yet thy power would I adore And Call upon thee to shoot more Shoot more shoot more The second Song O Turne thy bow Thy power we feele and know Faire Cupid turne away thy bow They be those golden Arrows Bring Ladies all their sorrowes And till there be more truth in men Never shoot at maids agen The third Song HEnce all you vaine delights As short as are the nights Wherein you spend your folly There 's nought in this life sweet If man were wise to see 't But only Melancholly O sweetest Melancholly Welcome folded armes and fixed eyes A sight that piercing mortifies A looke that 's fastned to the ground A tongue chain'd up without a sound Fountain heads and pathlesse Graves Places which pale Passion loves Moon-light walkes when all the Fowles Are warmely hous'd save Bats and Owles A midnight Bell a parting groane These are the sounds we feed upon Then stretch our Bones in a still gloomy valley Nothing so dainty sweet as lovely Melancholly The fourth Song A Curse upon thee for a slave Art thou here and heard'st me rave Flie not sparkles from mine eye To shew mine indignation nigh Am I not all foame and fire With voice as hoarse as a Town Crier How my back opes and shuts together With fury as old mens with weather Could'st thou not heare my teeth gnash hither The fifth Song THou Nasty scurvy Mungrill Toad Mischiefe on thee Light upon thee All the plagues That can confound thee Or did ever raigne abroad Better a thousand lives it cost Then have brave anger spilt or lost The sixth Song Pas OH how my Lungs do trickle ha ha ha Bas Oh how my Lungs do trickle oh oh ho ho. Pas sings Set a sharpe Jest Against my breast Then how my Lungs do trickle As Nightingales And things in Cambrick railes Sing best against a prickle Ha ha ha ha Bas Ho ho ho ho ha Pas. Laugh Bas Laugh Pas laugh Bas laugh Pas Wide Bas loud Pas and vary Bas A smile is for a simp'ring Novice Pas One that ne're tasted Caveare Bas Nor knows the smack of deare Anchovis Pas Ha ha ha ha ha Bas Ho ho ho ho ho. Pas A giling waiting wench for me That shewes her teeth how white they be Bas
Iove she griev'd to see The heaven so full of his iniquity Complaining that each strumpet now was grac'd And with immortall goddesses was plac'd Intreating him to place in heaven no more Each wanton strumpet and lascivious whore Iove mad with love minded not what she said His thoughts were so intangled with the maid But furiously he to his Pallace lept Being minded there till morning to have slept For the next morne so soone as Phoebus raies Should yet shine coole by reason of the seas And e're the parting teares of Thetis bed Should be quite shak'd from off his glittering head Astraea promis'd to attend great Iove At his own Pallace in the heavens above And at that Pallace she would set her hand To what the love-sick god should her command But to descend to earth she did deny She loath'd the sight of any mortall eye And for the compasse of the earthly round She would not set one foot upon the ground Therefore Iove meant to rise but with the sun Yet thought it long untill the night was done In the meane space Venus was drawn along By her white doves unto the sweating throng Of hammering blacksmiths at the lofty hill Of stately Aetna whose top burneth still For at that mountaines glittering top Her cripple husband Vulcan kept his shop To him she went and so collogues that night With the best straines of pleasures sweet delight That ere they parted she made Vulcan sweare By dreadfull Styx an oath that gods do feare If Iove would make the mortall maid a star Himselfe should frame his instruments of war He took his oath by black Cocytus lake He never more a thunderbolt would make For Venus so this night his senses pleas'd That now he thought his former griefes were eas'd She with her hands the blacksmiths body bound And with her Ivory armes she twin'd him round And still the faire Queen with a pretty grace Dispers'd her sweet breath o're his swarthy face Her snowy armes so well she did display That Vulcan thought they melted as they lay Untill the morn in this delight they lay Then up they got and hasted fast away In the white Charriot of the Queen of love Towards the Pallace of great thundring Iove Where they did see divine Astraea stand To passe her word for what Iove should command In limp'd the blacksmith after stept his Queen Whose light arraiment was of lovely green When they were in Vulcan began to sweare By oaths that Jupiter himselfe doth feare If any whore in heavens bright vault were seen To dim the shining of his beautious Queen Each mortall man should the great god disgrace And mock almighty Jove unto his face And Giants should enforce bright heaven to fall Ere he would frame one thunder-bolt at all Jove did intreat him that he would forbeare The more he spake the more did Vulcan sweare Jove heard the words and 'gan to make his moane That mortall men would pluck him from his throne Or else he must incur this plague he said Quite to forgo the pleasure of the maid And once he thought rather than lose those blisses Her heavenly sweets her most delicious kisses Her soft embraces and the amorous nights That he should often spend in her delights He would be quite thrown down by mortall hands From the blest place where his bright pallace stands But afterwards he saw with better sight He should be scorn'd by every mortall wight If he should want his thunderbolts to beat Aspiring mortals from his glittering seat Therefore the god no more did woe or move her But left to seeke her love though not to love her Yet he forgot not that he woo'd the Lasse But made her twice as beautious as she was Because his wonted love he needs would shew This have I heard but yet not thought it true And whether her cleare beauty was so bright That it could dazzle the immortall sight Of Gods and make them for her love despaire I do not know but sure the maid was faire Yet the faire Nymph was never seen resort Unto the savage and the bloudy sport Of chaste Diana nor was ever wont To bend a bow nor never us'd to hunt Nor did she ever strive with pretty cunning To overgo her fellow Nymphs in running For she was the faire water-Nymph alone That unto chaste Diana was unknown It is reported that her fellows us'd To bid her though the beautious Nymph refus'd To take a painted quiver or a dart And put her lazie idlenesse apart But she would none but in the fountaines swims Where oft she washeth o're her snowy limbs Sometimes she comb'd her soft dishevell'd haire Which with a fillet ty'd she oft did weare But sometimes loose she let it hang behind When she was pleas'd to grace the Easterne wind For up and down it would her tresses hurle And as she went it made her loose haire curle Oft in the water did she see her face And oft she us'd to practice what quaint grace Might well become her and what comly feature Might be best fitting so divine a creature Her skin was with a thin vaile over-thrown Through which her naked beauty clearly shone She us'd in this light raiment as she was To spread her body on the dewy grasse Sometimes by her own fountaines as she walks She nipt the flowers from off the fertile stalks And with a garland of the sweating vine Sometimes she doth her beautious front entwine But she was gathering flow'rs with her white hand When she beheld Hermaphroditus stand By her cleare fountaine wondring at the sight That there was any brooke could be so bright For this was the bright river where the boy Did dye himselfe that he could not enjoy Himselfe in pleasure nor could taste the blisses Of his own-melting and delicious kisses Here did she see him and by Venus law She did desire to have him as she saw But the faire Nymph had never seen the place Where the boy was nor his inchanting face But but by an uncouth accident of love Betwixt great Phoebus and the son of Jove Light-headed Bacchus for upon a day As the boy-god was keeping on his way Bearing his vine-leaves and his Ivy bands To Naxos where his house and Temple stands He saw the Nymph and seeing he did stay And threw his leaves and his Ivy bands away Thinking at first she was of heavenly birth Some goddesse that did live upon the earth Virgin Diana that so lovely shone When she did court her sweet Endimion But he a god at last did plainly see She had no marke of Immortality Unto the Nymph went the young god of wine Whose head was chaf'd so with the bleeding vine That now or feare or terrour had he none But 'gan to court her as she sat alone Fairer than fairest thus began his speech Would but your radiant eye please to enrich My eye with looking or one glance to give Whereby my other parts may feed and live Or with one sight
was so truly blest To take an houre or one poore minutes rest But now the burning God this pleasure feels By reason of his newly crazed wheels There must she stay untill lame Vulcan send The fiery wheeles which he had took to mend Now all the night the smith so hard had wrought That ere the Sun could wake his wheels were brought Titan being pleas'd with rest and not to rise And loath to open yet his slumbring eyes And yet perceiving how the longing sight Of mortals waited for his glittering light He sent Aurora from him to the skye To give a glimpsing to each mortall eye Aurora much asham'd of that same place That great Apollos light was wont to grace Finding no place to hide her shamefull head Painted her chaste cheeks with a blushing red Which ever since remain'd upon her face In token of her new receiv'd disgrace Therefore she not so white as she had been Loathing of every Mortall to be seen No sooner can the rosie fingred morne Kisse every flower that by her dew is borne But from the golden window she doth peep When the most part of earthly creatures sleep By this bright Titan opened had his eyes And 'gan to jerk his horses through the skies And taking in his hand his fiery whip He made Aeous and swift Aethon skip So fast that straight he dazled had the sight Of faire Aurora glad to see his light And now the Sun in all his fiery haste Did call to mind his promise lately past And all the vows and oaths that he did passe Unto faire Salmacis the beautious lasse For he had promis'd her she should enjoy So lovely faire and such a well-shapt boy As ne're before his own all-seeing eye Saw from his bright seat in the starry skie Remembring this he sent the boy that way Where the cleare fountaine of the faire Nymph lay There was he come to seek some pleasing brook No sooner came he but the Nymph was strook And though she longed to embrace the boy Yet did the Nymph a while defer her joy Till she had bound up her loose flagging haire And well ordered the garments she did weare Faigning her count'nance with a lovers care And did deserve to be accounted faire When thus much spake she while the boy abode O boy more worthy to be thought a god Thou maiest inhabit in the glorious place Of Gods or maist proceed from humane race Thou maiest be Cupid or the god of wine That lately woo'd me with the swelling Vine But whosoe're thou art O happy he That was so blest to be a sire to thee Thy happy mother is most blest of many Blessed thy sisters if her wombe bare any Both fortunate O and thrice happy she Whose too much blessed brests gave suck to thee If anies wish with thy sweet bed be blest O she is far more happy than the rest If thou hast any let her name be known Or else let me be she if thou hast none Here did she pause a while and then she said Be not obdurate to a silly maid A flinty heart within a snowy breast Is like base mold lock'd in a golden chest They say the eye 's the Index of the heart And shews th' affection of each inward part Then love plaies lively there the little god Hath a cleare christall pallace of abode O bar him not from playing in thy heart That sports himselfe upon each outward part Thus much she spake and then her tongue was husht At her loofe speeches Hermaphroditus blusht He knew not what love was yet love did shame him Making him blush and yet his blush became him Then might a man his lively colour see Like the ripe apple on a sunny tree Or Ivory dy'd o're with a pleasing red Or like the pale morne being shadowed By this the Nymph recovered had her tongue That to her thinking lay in silence long And said thy cheek is mild O be thou so Thy cheeke saith I then do not answer no Thy cheek doth shame then do thou shame she said It is a mans shame to deny a maid Thou look'st to sport with Venus in her tower And be belov'd of every heavenly power Men are but mortals so are women too Why should your thoughts aspire more than ours do For sure they do aspire else could a youth Whose countenance is full or spotlesse truth Be so relentlesse to a virgins tongue Let me be woo'd by thee but halfe so long With halfe those termes do but my love require And I will easily grant thee thy desire Ages are bad when men become so slow That poore unskilfull maids are forc'd to wooe Her radiant beauty and her subtill art So deeply struck Hermaphroditus heart That she had won his love but that the light Of her translucent eye did shine too bright For long he look'd upon the lovely maid And at the last Hermaphroditus said How should I love thee when I do espie A far more beautious Nymph hid in thy eye When thou dost love let not that Nymph be nigh thee Nor when thou woo'st let that same Nymph be by thee Or quite obscure her from thy lovers face Or hide her beauty in a darker place By this the Nymph perceiv'd he did espy None but himselfe reflected in her eye And for himselfe no more she meant to shew him She shut her eyes and blindfold thus did wooe him Faire boy think not thy beauty can dispence With any paine due to a bad offence Remember how the gods punisht that boy That scorn'd to let a beautious Nymph enjoy Her long wisht pleasure for the peevish else Lov'd of all others needs would love himself So maiest thou love perhaps thou maiest be blest By granting to a lucklesse Nymphs request Then rest a while with me amidst these weeds The Sun that sees all winks at lovers deeds Phoebus is blind when love sports are begun And never sees untill their sports be done Beleeve me boy thy bloud is very staid That art so loath to kisse a youthfull maid Wert thou a maid and I a man I le shew thee With what a manly boldnesse I could wooe thee Fairer than loves Queen thus I would begin Might not my over-boldnesse be a sin I would intreat this favour if I could Thy roseat cheeks a little to behold Then would I beg a touch and then a kisse And then a lower yet a higher blisse Then would I aske what Jove and Leda did When like a Swan the crafty god was hid What came he for why did he there abide Surely I think he did not come to chide He came to see her face to talke and chat To touch to kisse came he for nought but that Yes something else what was it he would have That which all men of maidens ought to crave This said her eye-lids wide she did display But in this space the boy was run away The wanton speeches of the lovely lasse Forc'd him for shame to hide him in
Francis Beaumont and Fletcher The Prologue to the Mad Lover TO please all 's impossible and to despaire Ruine's our selves and damps the Writers Care Would we knew what to do or say or when To find the minds here equall with the men But we must venture now to sea we go Faire Fortune with us give us roome and blow Remember y' are all venturers and in this play How many twelve pences ye have ' stowed this day Remember for Returne of your delight We lanch and plough through stormes of feare and spight Give us your fore winds fairely fill our wings And steere us right and as the Sailers sing Loaden with wealth on wanton Seas so we Shall make our home-bound voyage cheerefully And you our Noble Merchants for your Treasure Share equally the fraught we run for pleasure The Epilogue HEre lies the doubt now let our Plaies be good Our own care sayling equall in this Floud Our preparations new new our Attire Yet here we are becalm'd still still i' th' mire Here we stick fast is there no way to cleare This Passage of your judgement and our feare No Mitigation of that Law Brave Friends Consider we are yours made for your ends And every thing preserves it selfe each will If not perverse and crooked utters still The best of that it ventures in have care Even for your pleasures sake of what you are And do not ruine all you may frowne still But 't is the Nobler way to check the Will First Song to the mad Lover Stre. ORpheus I am come from the deeps below To thee fond man the plagues of love to show To thee faire Fields where Loves eternall dwell There 's none that come but first they passe through hell Harke and beware unlesse thou hast lov'd ever Belov'd againe thou shalt see those Joyes never Harke how they groane that dyed despairing O take heed then Harke how they houle for ever daring All these were men They that be fooles and dye for fame They lose their name And they that bleed Harke how they speed Now in cold Frosts now scorching fires They sit and curse their lost desires Nor shall their soules be free from pains and feares Till Women waft them over in their teares The second Song to the Mad-Lover Orph. CHaron O Charon Thou waster of the soules to blisse or bane Cha. Who cals the Ferry-man of Hell Orph. Come neare And say who lives in Joy and whom in feare Cha. Those that dye well eternall joy shall follow Those that dye ill their own soule fate shall swallow Orph. Shall thy black Barke those guilty spirits stow That kill themselves for love Cha. O no no My courage cracks when such great sins are neare No wind blows faire nor I my selfe can steare Orph. What Lovers passe and in Elisium raigne Cha. Those gentle loves that are belov'd againe Orph. This Souldier loves and faine would dye to win Shall be go on Cha. No 't is too foule a sin He must not come aboard I dare not Row Stormes of despaire and guilty bloud will blow Orph. Shall time release him say Cha. No no no no Nor time nor death can alter us nor prayer My Boat is destiny and who then dare But those appointed come aboard Live still And lâ—ve by reason mortall not by will Orph. And when thy Mistris shall close up thine eyes Cha. Then come aboard and passe Orph. Till when be wise Cha. Till when be wise The third Song to the mad Lover O Faire sweet Goddesse Queen of Loves Soft and gentle as thy Doves Humble eyed and ever ruing Those poore hearts their loves pursuing O thou mother of delights Crowner of all happy nights Star of Deare content and pleasure Of mutuall love the endlesse treasure Accept this Sacrifice we bring Thou continuall youth and spring Grant this Lady her desires And every houre wee 'l crown thy fires The fourth Song to the mad Lover ARme Arme Arme Arme the Scouts are all come in Keep your Rankes close and now your honour win Behold from yonder Hill the Foe appeares Bows Bils Glaves Arrows Shields and Speares Like a darke wood he comes or tempest powring O view the wings of Horse the Meadows scowring The Vant-Guard marches bravely hark the Drums Dub Dub. They meet they meet now the battle comes See how the Arrows flie That darken all the skie Harke how the Trumpets sound Harke how the hils rebound tara tara tara Harke how the Horses charge in boyes in boys in tara tara The Battle totters now the wounds begin O how thy cry O how they dye Roome for the Valiant Memnon armed with Thunder See how he breakes the Rankes asunder They fly they fly Eumenes hath the Chase And brave Politius makes good his place To the plaines to the woods To the rocks to the flouds They fly for succour follow follow follow hey hey Harke how the Souldiers hollow Brave Diocles is dead And all his souldiers fled The Battle 's won and lost That many a life hath cost The Prologue to the Spanish Curate TO tell ye Gentlemen we have a play A new one too and that 't is launch'd to day The name ye know that 's nothing to my story To tell you 't is familiar void of glory Of State of Bitternesse of wit you 'l say For that is now held wit that tends that way Which we avoid to tell you too till merry And meane to make you pleasant and not weary The streame that guides ye easie to attend To tell you that 't is good is to no end If you beleeve not nay to go thus far To sweare it if you sweare against it were To assure you any thing unlesse you see And so conceive is vanity in me Therefore I leave it to it selfe and pray Like a good Barque it may worke out to day And stem all doubts 't was built for such a proofe And we hope highly if she lie aloofe For her own vantage to give wind at will Why let her worke only be you but still And sweet opinion'd and we are bound to say You are worthy Judges and you crown the Play The Epilogue THe Play is done yet our suite never ends Still when you part you would still part our Friends Our Noblest Friends if ought have falne amisse Oh let it be sufficient that it is And you have pardon'd it In buildings great All the whole body cannot be so neat But something may be mended those are faire And worthy love that may destroy but spare The Prologue to the French-Lawyer TO promise much before a Play begin And when 't is done aske pardon were a sin Wee 'l not be guilty of and to excuse Before we know a fault were to abuse The Writers and our selves for I dare say We all are fool'd if this be not a Play And such a Play as shall so should Plaies do Impe Times dull wings and make you merry too 'T was to that purpose writ so we intend it
Invades and Charmes Looks like a Princesse harness'd in bright Armes Nor art Thou Loud and Cloudy those that do Thunder so much do 't without Lightning too Tearing themselves and almost split their braine To render harsh what thou speak'st free and cleane Such gloomy Sense may passe for High and Proud But true-born Wit still flies above the Cloud Thou knewst 't was Impotence what they call Height Who blusters strong i' th' Darke but creeps i' th' Light And as thy thoughts were cleare so Innocent Thy Phancy gave no unswept Language vent Slaunder'st not Laws prophan'st no holy Page As if thy Fathers Crosier aw'd the Stage High Crimes were still arraign'd though they made shift To prosper out foure Acts were plagu'd i' th' fift All 's safe and wise no stiffe-affected Scene Nor swoln nor flat a True Full Naturall veine Thy Sence like well-drest Ladies cloath'd as skinn'd Not all unlac'd nor City-startcht and pinn'd Thou hadst no Sloath no rage no sullen Fit But Strength and Mirth FLETCHER'S a Sanguin Wit Thus two great Consul-Poets all things sway'd Till all was English Borne or English Made Miter and Coyfe here into One Piece spun BEAUMONT a Judge's This a Prelat's Son What strange Production is at last displaid Got by Two Fathers without Female aide Behold two Masculines espous'd each other Wit and the World were born without a Mother I. BERKENHEAD Salmacis Hermaphroditus OR The Hermaphrodite MY wanton lines do treat of Amorous love Such as would bow the hearts of Gods above Thou Venus our great Citheraean Queene That hourely trip'st on the Idalian greene Thou laughing Ericina daigne to see These verses wholly consecrate to thee Temper them so within thy Paphian shrine That every lovers eye may melt a line Command the god of love that little king To give each verse a sleight touch with his wing That as I write one line may draw the other And every word skip nimbly o're another There was a lovely Boy the Nymphs had kept That on th' Idalian Mountaines oft had slept Begot and born by pow'rs that dwelt above By learned Mercury on the Queen of love A face he had that shew'd his Parents fame And from them both conjoyn'd he drew his name So wondrous faire he was that as they say Diana being bunting on a day She saw the Boy upon a green banke lay him And there the virgin huntresse meant to slay him Because no Nimphs would now pursue the chace For all were struck blind with the wantons face But when that beauteous face Diana saw Her armes were nummed and she could not draw Yet did she strive to shoot but all in vaine She bent her bow but loos'd it straight againe Then she began to chide her wanton eye And faine would shoot but durst not see him dye She turn'd and shot but did of purpose misse him She turn'd againe and could not choose but kisse him Then the Boy ran for some say had he staid Diana had no longer been a maid Phoebus so doted on this rosiat face That he hath oft stoln closly from his place When he did lie by faire Leucothoes side To dally with him in the vales of Ide And ever since this lovely boy did dye Phoebus each day about the world doth flye And on the earth he seeks him all the day And every night he seeks him in the sea His cheeks were sanguine and his lips were red As are the blushing leaves of the Rose spread And I have heard that till this Boy was born Roses grew white upon the virgine thorn 'Till one day walking to a pleasant spring To heare how cunningly the birds could sing Laying him down upon a flowry bed The Roses blush't and turn'd themselves to red The rose that blush't not for his great offence The gods did punish and for 's impudence They gave this doome and 't was agreed by all The smell of the white rose should be but small His haire was bushie bur it was not long The Nimphs had alone his tresses mighty wrong For as it grew they pull'd away his haire And made habiliments of gold to weare His eyes were Cupids for untill his birth Cupid had eyes and liv'd upon the earth Till on a day when the great Queen of love Was by her white doves drawn from heaven above Unto the top of the Idalian hill To see how well the Nymphs her charge fulfill And whether they had done the goddesse right In nursing of her sweet Hermaphrodite Whom when she saw although compleat and full Yet she complain'd his eyes were somewhat dull And therefore more the wanton boy to grace She pull'd the sparkling eyes from Cupid's face Faining a cause to take away his sight Because the Ape would sometimes shoot for spight But Venus set those eyes in such a place As grac'd those cleare eyes with a clearer face For his white hand each goddesse did him wooe For it was whiter than the driven snow His leg was straighter than the thigh of Jove And he far fairer than the god of love When first this well shap'd boy beauties chiefe king Had seen the labour of the fifteenth spring How curiously it painted all the earth He 'gan to travell from his place of birth Leaving the stately hils where he was nurst And where the Nymphs had brought him up at first He lov'd to travell unto coasts unknown To see the Regions far beyond his own Seeking cleare watry springs to bath him in For he did love to wash his Ivory skin The lovely Nymphs have oft times seen him swim And closely stoln his cloaths from off the brim Because the wanton wenches would so faine See him come nak'd to aske his cloaths againe He lov'd besides to see the Lician grounds And know the wealthy Carians utmost bounds Using to travell thus one day he found A Christall brook that tril'd along the ground A brook that in reflection did surpasse The cleare reflection of the clearest glasse About the side there grew no foggy reeds Nor was the front compast with barren weeds But living turfe grew all along the side And grasse that ever flourish'd in his pride Within this brook a beautious Nymph did dwell Who for her comely feature did excell So faire she was of such a pleasing grace So straight a body and so sweet a face So soft a belly such a lusty thigh So large a forehead such a cristall eye So soft and moist a hand so smooth a brest So faire a cheek so well in all the rest That Jupiter would revell in her bower Were he to spend again his golden shower Her teeth were whiter than the Morning-milk Her lips were softer than the softest silk Her haire as far surpast the burnish'd gold As silver doth excell the basest mold Jove courted her for her transluent eye And told her he would place her in the skie Promising her if she would be his love He would ingrave her in the heavens above Telling this lovely
the grasse When she perceiv'd she could not see him neere her When she had call'd and yet he would not heare her Look how when Autumne comes a little space Paleth the red blush of the summers face Tearing the leaves the summers coveting Three months in weaving by the curious spring Making the grasse his green locks go to wrack Tearing each ornament from off his back So did she spoile the garments she did weare Tearing whole ounces of her golden haire Shee thus deluded of her longed blisse With much adoe at last she uttred this Why wert so bashfull boy Thou hast no part Shewes thee to be of such a female heart His eye is grey so is the mornings eye That blusheth alwaies when the day is nigh Then is grey eyes the cause that cannot be The grey ey'd morn is far more bold than he For with a gentle dew from heavens bright tower It gets the maidenhead of every flower I would to god he were the rosiat morn And I a flower from out the earth new born His face was smooth Narcissus face was so And he was carelesse of a sad Nymphs woe Then that 's the cause and yet that cannot be Youthfull Narcissus was more bold than he Because he dy'd for love though of his shade This boy nor loves himselfe nor yet a maid Besides his glorious eye is wondrous bright So is the fiery and all-seeing light Of Phoebus who at every mornings birth Blusheth for shame upon the sullen earth Then that 's the cause and yet that cannot be The fiery Sun is far more bold than he He nightly kisseth Thetis in the sea All know the storie of Leucothoe His cheek is red so is the fragrant rose Whose ruddy cheek with over-blushing glowes Then that 's the cause and yet that cannot be Each blushing rose is far more bold than he Whose boldnesse may be plainly seen in this The ruddy rose is not asham'd to kisse For alwaies when the day is new begun The spreading rose will kisse the morning sun This said hid in the grasse she did espy him And stumbling with her will she fell down by him And with her wanton talke because he woo'd not Beg'd that which he poore novice understood not And for she could not get a greater blisse She did intreat at least a sisters kisse But still the more she did the boy beseech The more he powted at her wanton speech At last the Nymph began to touch his skin Whiter than Mountain snow hath ever been And did in purenesse that cleare spring surpasse Wherein Acteon saw th' Arcadian lasse Thus did she dally long till at the last In her white Palm she lockt his white hand fast Then in her hands his wrist she 'gan to close When through his pulses straight his warme bloud glows Whose youthfull Musick faining Cupids fire In her warme brest kindled a fresh desire Then did she lift her hand unto his brest A part as white and youthfull as the rest Where as his flowry breath still comes and goes She felt his gentle heart pant through his cloaths At last she took her hand from off that part And said it panted like another heart Why should it be more feeble and lesse bold Why should the bloud about it be more cold Nay sure that yields only thy tongue denies And the true fancy of thy heart belies Then did she lift her hand unto his chin And prais'd the pretty dimpling of his skin But straight his chin she 'gan to overslip When she beheld the rednesse of his lip And said thy lips are soft presse them to mine And thou shalt see they are as soft as thine Then would she faine have gone unto his eye But still his ruddy lip standing so nigh Drew her hand back therefore his eye she mist ' Ginning to claspe his neck and would have kist But then the boy did struggle to be gone Vowing to leave her in that place alone But the bright Salmacis began to feare And said faire stranger I will leave thee here And these pleasant places all alone So turning back she fained to be gone But from his sight she had no power to passe Therefore she turn'd and hid her in the grasse When to the ground bending her snow-white knee The glad earth gave new coats to every tree He then supposing he was all alone Like a young boy that is espy'd of none Runs here and there then on the banks doth look Then on the Christall current of the brook Then with his feet he toucht the silver streames Whose drowzie waves made musick in their dreames And for he was not wholly in did weep Talking aloud and babling in their sleep Whose pleasant coolenesse when the boy did feele He thrust his foot down lower to the heele O'recome with whose sweet noise he did begin To strip his soft cloaths from his tender skin When streight the scorching Sun wept teares of brine Because he durst not touch him with his shine For feare of spoiling that same Ivory skin Whose whitenesse he so much delighted in And then the Moon mother of mortall ease Would faine have come from the Antipodes To have beheld him naked as he stood Ready to leap into the silver floud But might not for the laws of heaven deny To shew mens secrets to a womans eye And therefore was her sad and gloomy light Confin'd unto the secret keeping night When beautious Salmacis a while had gaz'd Upon his naked corps she stood amaz'd And both her sparkling eyes burnt in her face Like the bright Sun reflected in a glasse Scarce can she stay from running to the Boy Scarce can she now defer her hoped joy So fast her youthfull bloud plaies in her veines That almost mad she scarce her selfe containes When young Hermaphroditus as he stands Clapping his white side with his hollow hands Leapt lively from the land whereon he stood Into the maine part of the Christall floud Like Ivory then his snowy body was Or a white Lilly in a Christall glasse Then rose the Water-Nymph from where she lay As having won the glory of the day And her light garments cast from off her skin He 's mine she cry'd and so leapt sprightly in The flatt'ring Ivy who did ever see Inclasp'd the huge trunke of an aged tree Let him behold the young boy as he stands Inclaspt in wanton Salmacis pure hands Betwixt those Ivory armes she lockt him fast Striving to get away till at the last Fondling she said why striv'st thou to be gone Why shouldst thou so desire to be alone Thy cheeke is never faire when none is by For what is red and white but to the eye And for that cause the heavens are dark at night Because all creatures close their weary sight For there 's no mortall can so early rise But still the morning waits upon his eyes The early rising and soon singing Lark Can never chant her sweet notes in the dark For sleep she ne'r so
little or so long Yet still the morning will attend her song All creatures that beneath bright Cinthia be Have appetite unto society The overflowing waves would have a bound Within the confines of the spacious ground And all their shady currents would be plac'd In hollow of the sollitary vaste But that they loath to let their soft streams sing Where none can heare their gentle murmuring Yet still the boy regardlesse what she said Strugled apace to overswim the maid Which when the Nymph perceiv'd she 'gan to say Struggle thou maiest but never get away So grant just gods that never day may see The separation 'twixt this boy and me The gods did heare her prayer and feele her woe And in one body they began to grow She felt his youthfull bloud in every veine And he felt hers warm his cold breast againe And ever since was womans love so blest That it will draw bloud from the strongest breast Nor man nor maid now could they be esteem'd Neither and either might they well be deem'd When the young boy Hermaphroditus said With the set voice of neither man nor maid Swift Mercury thou Author of my life And thou my mother Vulcans lovely wife Let your poore off-springs latest breath be blest In but obtaining this his last request Grant that whoe're heated by Phoebus beams Shall come to coole him in these silver streams May never more a manly shape retaine But halfe a virgin may returne againe His parents harkned to his last request And with that great power they the fountaine blest And since that time who in that fountaine swims A maiden smoothnes seizeth halfe his limbs THE REMEDIE OF LOVE WHen Cupid read this Title straight he said Wars I perceive against me will be made But spare oh Love to tax thy Poet so Who oft hath born thy Ensign ' gainst thy so I am not he by whom thy Mother bled When she to heaven on Mars his horses fled I oft like other Youths thy flame did prove And if thou aske what I do still I Love Nay I have taught by Art to keep loves course And made that reason which before was force I seek not to betray thee pretty boy Nor what I once have written to destroy If any love and find his Mistris kind Let him go on and saile with his own wind But he that by his Love is discontented To save his life my Verses were invented Why should a Lover kill himselfe or why Should any with his own griefe wounded die Thou art a boy to play becomes thee still Thy reign is soft play then and do not kill Or if thou 'lt needs be vexing then do this Make Lovers meet by stealth and steale a kisse Make them to feare least any over-watch them And tremble when they thinke some come to catch them And with those teares that Lovers shed all night Be thou content but do not kill out-right Love heard and up his silver wings did heave And said Write on I freely give thee leave Come then all ye despis'd that Love endure I that have felt the wounds your Love will cure But come at first for if you make delay Your sicknesse will grow mortall by your stay The Tree which by delay is grown so big In the beginning was a tender twig That which at first was but a span in length Will by delay be rooted past mans strength Resist beginnings med'cines bring no curing Where sicknesse is grown strong by long enduring When first thou seest a Lasse that likes thine eye Bend all thy present powers to descry Whether her eye or carriage first would shew If she be fit for Loves delights or no Some will be easie such an one elect But she that beares too grave and sterne aspect Take heed of her and make her not thy Jewell Either she cannot Love or will be cruell If love assaile thee there betime take heed Those wounds are dangerous that inward bleed He that to day cannot shake off Loves sorrow Will certainly be more unapt to morrow Love hath so eloquent and quick a tongue That he will lead thee all thy life along And on a sudden claspe thee in a yoke Where thou must either draw or striving choak Strive then betimes for at the first one hand May stop a water drill that weares the sand But if delayed it breakes into a floud Mountaines will hardly make the passage good But I am out for now I do begin To keep them off not heale those that are in First therefore Lovers I intend to shew How love came to you then how he may go You that would not know what Loves passions be Never be idle learne that rule of me Ease makes you love as that o'recomes your wils Ease is the food and cause of all your ills Turne ease and idlenesse but out of doore Loves darts are broke his flame can burne no more As reeds and Willows loves the Waters side So Love loves with the idle to abide If then at liberty you faine would be Love yeelds to labour Labour and be free Long sleeps soft beds rich vintage and high feeding Nothing to do and pleasure of exceeding Dulls all our senses makes our vertue stupid And then creeps in that crafty villaine Cupid That boy loves ease alife hates such as stir Therefore thy mind to better things prefer Behold thy Countries enemies in Armes At home love gripes thy heart in his slie charmes Then rise and put on armour cast off sloath Thy labour may at once o'recome them both If this seem hard and too unpleasant then Behold the Law set forth by God and men Sit down and study that that thou maiest know The way to guide thy selfe and others show Or if thou lov'st not to be shut up so Learne to assaile the Deere with trusty bow That through the Woods thy well-mouth'd hounds may ring Whose Eccho better joyes than Love will sing There maiest thou chance to bring thy love to end Diana unto Venus is no friend The Country will afford thee meanes enough Sometimes disdaine not to direct the Plough To follow through the fields the bleating Lambe That mournes to misse the comfort of his Dam. Assist the harvest help to prune the Trees Graft plant and sow no kind of labour leese Set nets for birds with hook'd lines bait for fish Which will imploy thy mind and fill thy dish That being weary with these paines at night Sound sleeps may put the thoughts of Love to flight With such delights or labours as are these Forget to love and learne thy selfe to please But chiefly learne this lesson for my sake Fly from her far some journey undertake I know thou 'lt grieve and that her name once told Will be enough thy journey to with-hold But when thou find'st thy selfe most bent to stay Compell thy feet to run with thee away Nor do thou wish that raine or stormy weather May stay your steps and bring you back together
Count not the miles you passe nor doubt the way Lest those respects should turne you back to stay Tell not the clock nor look not once behind But flie like Lightning or the Northerne wind For where we are too much o'rematcht in might There is no way for safeguard but by flight But some will count my Lines too hard and bitter I must confesse them hard but yet 't is better To fast a while that health may be provoked Than feed at plenteous tables and be choaked To cure the wretched body I am sure Both Fire and Steele thou gladly wilt endure Wilt thou not then take paines by any Art To cure thy Mind which is thy better part The hardnesse is at first and that once past Pleasant and easie waies will come at last I do not bid thee strive with Witches Charmes Or such unholy acts to cease thy harms Ceres her selfe who all these things did know Had never power to cure her own Love so No take this Medicine which of all is sure Labour and Absence is the only Cure But if the Fates compell thee in such fashion That thou must needs live neere her habitation And canst not flie her fight learne here of me That thou would'st faine and canst not yet be free Set all thy Mistris faults before thine eyes And all thy own disgraces well advise Say to thy selfe that she is covetous Hath ta'ne my gifts and us'd me thus and thus Thus hath she sworne to me and thus deceived Thus have I hope and thus have been bereaved With love she feeds my Rivall while I starve And poures on him kisses which I deserve She follows him with smiles and gives to me Sad looks no Lovers but a strangers fee. All those embraces I so oft desired To him she offers daily unrequired Whose whole desert and halfe mine weigh'd together Would make mine Lead and his seem Corke and Feather Then let her go and since she proves so hard Regard thy selfe and give her no regard Thus must thou schoole thy selfe and I could wish Thee to thy selfe most eloquent in this But put on griefe enough and do not feare Griefe will enforce thy eloquence t' appeare Thus I my selfe the love did once expell Of one whose Coynesse vex'd my soule like hell I must confesse she touch'd me to the quick And I that am Physitian then was sick But this I found to profit I did still Ruinate what I thought in her was ill And for to cure my selfe I found a way Some honest slanders on her for to lay Quoth I how lamely doth my Mistris go Although I must confesse it was not so I said her armes were crooked fingers bent Her shoulders bow'd her legs consum'd and spent Her colour sad her neck as darke as night When Venus might in all have tane delight But yet because I would no more come nigh her My selfe unto my selfe did thus belye her Do thou the like and though she faire appeare Thinke vice to vertue often comes too neere And in that errour though it be an errour Preserve thy selfe from further terrour If she be round and plumpe say shee 's too fat If brown say black and think who cares for that If she be slender sweare she is too leane That such a Wench will weare a man out cleane If she be red say shee 's too full of bloud If pale her body nor her mind is good If wanton say she seeks thee to devoure If grave neglect her say she looks too sowre Nay if she have a fault and thou dost know it Praise it that in thy presence she may shew it As if her voice be bad crack'd in the ring Never give over till thou make her sing If she have any blemish in her foot Commend her dancing still and put her to 't If she be rude in speech incite her talke If haulting lame provoke her much to walke Or if on Instruments she have small skill Reach down a Viall urge her to that still Take any way to ease thy own distresse And think those faults be which are nothing lesse Then meditate besides what thing it is That makes thee still in Love to go amisse Advise thee well for as the World now goes Men are not caught with substance but with shews Women are in their bodies turn'd to French That face and body's least part of a Wench I know a Woman hath in Love been troubled For that which Taylors make a fine neat Doublet And men are even as mad in their desiring That oftentimes love Women for their tyring He that doth so let him take this advise Let him rise early and not being nice Up to his Mistris chamber let him hie E're she arise and there he shall espie Such a confusion of disordered things In Bodies Jewels Tyres Wyres Lawnes and Rings That sure it cannot choose but much abhor him To see her lye in peeces thus before him And find those things shut in a painted box For which he loves her and endures her mocks Once I my selfe had a great mind to see What kind of things Women undressed be And found my Sweet-heart just when I came at her Screwing in teeth and dipping rags in water She miss'd her Perriwig and durst not stay But put it on in haste the backward way That had I not on th' sudden chang'd my mind I had mistooke and kiss'd my Love behind So if thou wish her faults should rid thy cares Watch out thy time and take her unawares Or rather put the better way in proofe Come thou not neere but keep thy selfe aloofe If all this serve not use one medicine more Seek out another Love and her adore But chuse out one in whom thou well maiest see A heart inclin'd to love and cherish thee For as a River parted slower goes So Love thus parted still more evenly flowes One Anchor will not serve a Vessell tall Nor is one hooke enough to fish withall He that can solace him and sport with two May in the end triumph as others do Thou that to one hast shew'd thy selfe too kind Maiest in a second much more comfort find If one Love entertaine thee with despight The other will embrace thee with delight When by the former thou art made accurst The second will contend t' excell the first And strive with love to drive her from thy breast That first to second yields women know best Or if to yeeld to either thou art loath This may perhaps acquit them of them both For what one Love makes odde two shall make even Thus blows with blows and fire by fire 's out driven Perchance this course will turne thy first Loves heart And when thine is at ease cause hers to smart If thy Loves Rivall stick so neere thy side Thinke women can Copartners worse abide For though thy Mistris never meane to love thee Yet from the others love she 'l strive to move thee But let her strive she oft hath vex'd thy heart
Suffer her now to beare her selfe a part And though thy bowels burne like Aetna's fire Seeme colder far than Ice or her desire Faigne thy selfe free and sigh not over-much But laugh when griefe thy heart doth touch I do not bid thee breake through fire and flame Such violence in love is much too blame But I advise that thou dissemble deep And all thy passions in thine own brest keep Faigne thy selfe well and thou at last shalt see Thy selfe as well as thou didst faigne to be So have I often when I would not drink Sate down as one asleep and faign'd to wink Till as I nodding sate and tooke no heed I have at last falne fast asleep indeed So have I oft been angry faigning spight And counterfeiting smiles have laught outright So Love by use doth come by use doth go And he that feignes well shall at length be so If e're thy Mistris promis'd to receive thee Into her bosome and did then deceive thee Locking thy Rivall in thee out of doore Be not dejected seeme not to deplore Nor when thou seest her next take notice of it But passe it over it shall turne to profit For if she sees such tricks as these perplex thee She will be proud and take delight to vexe thee But if she prove thee constant in this kind She will begin at length some sleights to find How she may draw thee back and keep thee still A servile Captive to her fickle wil. But now take heed here comes the proofe of men Be thou as constant as thou seemest then Receive no Messages regard no Lines They are but snares to catch thee in her twines Receive no gifts thinke all that praise her flatter Whate're she writes beleeve not halfe the matter Converse not with her servant nor her maid Scarce bid good morrow lest thou be betray'd When thou go'st by her doore never look back And though she call do not thy journey sâ—ack If she should send her friends to talk with thee Suffer them not too long to walke with thee Do not beleeve one word they say is sooth Nor do not aske so much as how she doth Yea though thy very heart should burne to know Bridle thy tongue and make thereof no show Thy carelesse silence shall perplex her more Then can a thousand sighs sigh'd o're and o're By saying thou lovest not thy loving prove not For he 's far gone in Love that saies I love not Then hold thy peace and shortly Love will die That wound heals best that cures not by and by But some will say alas this rule is hard Must we not love where we find reward How should a tender Woman beare this scorne That cannot without art by men be borne Mistake me not I do not wish you show Such a contempt to them whose love you know But where a scornfull Lasse makes you endure Her slight regarding there I lay my cure Nor think in leaving Love you wrong your Lasse Who one to her content already has While she doth joy in him joy thou in any Thou hast as well as she the choice of many Then for thy own contempt defer not long But cure thy selfe and she shall have no wrong Among all cures I chiefly did commend Absence in this to be the only friend And so it is but I would have ye learne The perfect use of Absence to discerne First then When thou art absent to her sight In solitarinesse do not delight Be seldome left alone for then I know A thousand vexing thoughts will come and go Fly lovely walkes and uncouth places sad They are the Nurse of thoughts that make men mad Walk not too much where thy fond-eye may see The place where she did give loves rights to thee For even the place will tell thee of those joyes And turne thy kisses into sad annoies Frequent not Woods and Groves nor sit and muse With armes acrosse as foolish lovers use For as thou sitt'st alone thou soone shalt find Thy Mistris face presented to thy mind As plainly to thy troubled phantasie As if she were in presence and stood by This to eschew open thy doores all day Shun no mans speech that comes into thy way Admit all companies and when there 's none Then walke thou forth thy selfe and seek out one When he is found seeke more laugh drinke and sing Rather than be alone do any thing Or if thou be constrain'd to be alone Have not her Picture for to gaze upon For that 's the way when thou art eas'd of paine To wound anew and make thee sick againe Or if thou hast it thinke the painters skill Flattered her face and that she looks more ill And thinke as thou dost musing on it sit That she her selfe is counterfeit like it Or rather fly all things that are inclin'd To bring one thought of her into thy mind View not her tokens nor thinke on her words But take some book whose learned wombe affords Physick for soules there search for some reliefe To guile the time and rid away thy griefe But if thy thoughts on her must needs be bent Thinke what a deale of precious time was spent In quest of her and that thy best of youth Languish'd and died while she was void of truth Thinke but how ill she did deserve affection And yet how long she held thee in subjection Thinke how she chang'd how ill it did become her And thinking so leave love and flie far from her He that from all infection would be free Must flie the place where the infected be And he that would from loves affection flie Must leave his Mistris walks and not come nigh Sore eyes are got by looking on sore eyes And wounds do soon from new-heal'd scars arise As embers touch'd with sulphurs do renew So will her sight kindle fresh flames in you If then thou meet'st her suffer her go by thee And be afraid to let her come too nigh thee For her aspect will raise desire in thee And hungry men scarce hold from meat they see If e're she sent thee Letters that lie by Peruse them not they 'l captivate thy eye But lap them up and cast them in the fire And wish as they waste so may thy desire If e're thou sent'st her token gift or letter Go not to fetch them back for it is better That she detaine a little paltry pelfe Than thou shouldst seeke for them and lose thy selfe For why her sight will so enchant thy heart That thou wilt lose thy labour I my Art But if by chance there fortune such a case Thou needs must come where she shall be in place Then call to mind all parts of this discourse For sure thou shalt have need of all thy force Against thou goest curle not thy head and haire Nor care whether thy band be foule or faire Nor be not in so neat and spruce array As if thou mean'st to make it holiday Neglect thy selfe for once that she may
see Her love hath now no power to worke on thee And if thy Rivall be in presence too Seeme not to marke but do as others do Salute him friendly give him gentle words Returne all curtesies that he affords Drinke to him carve him give him complement This shall thy Mistris more than thee torment For she will think by this thy carelesse show Thou car'st not now whether she love or no. But if thou canst perswade thy selfe indeed She hath no Lover but of thee hath need That no man loves her but thy selfe alone And that she shall be lost when thou art gone Thus sooth thy selfe and thou shalt seeme to be In far more happy taking than is she For if thou think'st she 's lov'd and loves againe Hell fire will seeme more easie than thy paine But chiefly when in presence thou shalt spie The man she most affecteth standing by And see him graspe her by the tender hand And whispering close or almost kissing stand When thou shalt doubt whether they laugh at thee Or whether on some meeting they agree If now thou canst hold out thou art a man And canst performe more than thy teacher can If then thy heart can be at ease and free I will give o're to teach and learne of thee But this way I would take among them all I would pick out some Lasse to talke withall Whose quick inventions and whose nimble wit Should busie mine and keep me from my fit My eye with all my art should be a wooing No matter what I said so I were doing For all that while my Love should thinke at least That I as well as she on Love did feast And though my heart were thinking of her face Or her unkindnesse and my own disgrace Of all my present paines by her neglect Yet would I laugh and seem without respect Perchance in envy thou shouldst sport with any Her beck will single thee from forth of many But if thou canst of all that present are Her conference alone thou shouldst forbeare For if her looks so much thy mind do trouble Her honied speeches will distract thee double If she begin once to confer with thee Then do as I would do be rul'd by me When she begins to talke imagine straight That now to catch thee up she lies in wait Then call to mind some businesse or affaire Whose doubtfull issue takes up all thy care That while such talke thy troubled fancies stirs Thy mind may work and give no heed to hers Alas I know mens hearts and that full soone By womens gentle words we are undone If women sigh or weep our soules are griev'd Or if they sweare they love they are beleev'd But trust not thou to oaths if she should sweare Nor hearty sighs beleeve they dwell not there If she should grieve in earnest or in jest Or force her arguments with sad protest As if true sorrow in her eye-lid sate Nay if she come to weeping trust not that For know that women can both weep and smile With much more danger than the Crocodile Thinke all she doth is but to breed thy paine And get the power to tyrannize againe And she will beat thy heart with trouble more Than rocks are beat with waves upon the shore Do not complaine to her then of thy wrong But lock thy thoughts within thy silent tongue Tell her not why thou leav'st her nor declare Although she aske thee what thy torments are Wring not her fingers gaze not on her eye From thence a thousand snares and arrows flye No let her not perceive by sighs or signes How at her deeds thy inward soule repines Seeme carelesse of her speech and do not harke Answer by chance as though thou didst not marke And if she bid thee home straight promise not Or breake thy word as if thou hadst forgot Seeme not to care whether thou come or no And if she be not earnest do not goe Feigne thou hast businesse and defer the meeting As one that greatly car'd not for her greeting And as she talkes cast thou thine eyes elsewhere And look among the Lasses that are there Compare their severall beauties to her face Some one or other will her forme disgrace On both their faces carry still thy view Ballance them equally in judgement true And when thou find'st the other doth excell Yet that thou canst not love it halfe so well Blush that thy passions make thee dote on her More than on those thy judgement doth prefer When thou hast let her speake all that she would Seeme as thou hast not one word understood And when to part with thee thou seest her bent Give her some ordinary complement Such as may seeme of courtesie not love And so to other companie remove This carelesnesse in which thou seem'st to be Howe're in her will worke this change in thee That thou shalt thinke for using her so slight She cannot chuse but turne her love to spight And if thou art perswaded once she hates Thou wilt beware and not come neere her baits But though I wish thee constantly beleeve She hates thy sight thy passions to deceive Yet be not thou so base to hate her too That which seems ill in her do not thou do 'T will indiscretion seeme and want of wit Where thou didst love to hate instead of it And thou maiest shame ever to be so mated And joyn'd in love with one that should be hated Such kind of love is fit for Clownes and Hinds And not for debonaire and gentle minds For can there be in man a madnesse more Than hate those lips he wish'd to kisse before Or loath to see those eyes or heare that voice Whose very sound hath made his heart rejoice Such acts as these much indiscretion shews When men from kissing turne to wish for blows And this their own example shews so naught That when they should direct they must be taught But thou wilt say for all the love I beare her And all the service I am ne're the nearer And which thee most of all doth vexe like hell She loves a man ne're lov'd her halfe so well Him she adores but I must not come at her Have I not then good reason for to hate her I answer no for make the case thine owne And in thy glasse her actions shall be showne When thou thy selfe in love wert so far gone Say could'st thou love any but her alone I know thou couldst not though with teares and cries These had made deafe thine eares and dim thine eyes Would'st thou for this that they hate thee againe If so thou wouldst then hate thy love againe Your faults are both alike thou lovest her And she in love thy Rivall doth prefer If then her love to him thy hate procure Thou shouldst for loving her like hate endure Then do not hate for all the lines I write Are not address'd to turne thy love to spight But writ to draw thy doting mind from love That in the
be said That lives ne're loves but dies a Maid The Ring if worne the Finger decks The Bell pull'd by the Ringer speakes The horse doth ease if he be ridden The feast doth please if Guest be bidden The Bucket draws the water forth The Rose when pluck'd is still most worth Such is the Virgin in my eyes That lives loves marries e're she dies Like to a Stock not grafted on Or like a Lute not play'd upon Like a Jack without a weight Or a Barque without a fraight Like a Lock without a Key Or a Candle in the day Just such as these may she be said That lives ne're loves but dies a Maid The graffed Stock doth beare best fruit There 's musick in the fingered Lute The weight doth make the Jack go ready The fraught doth make the Barque go steady The Key the Lock doth open right The Candle 's usefull in the night Such is the Virgin in my eyes That lives loves marries e're she dies Like a Call without Anon sir Or a Question and no answer Like a Ship was never rigg'd Or a Mine was never digg'd Like a wound without a Tent. Or Sivet boxe without a scent Just such as these may she be said That lives ne're loves but dies a maid Th' Anon sir doth obey the Call The Question answered pleaseth all Who riggs a Ship sailes with the Wind Who digs a Mine doth treasure find The wound by wholesome Tent hath ease The boxe perfum'd the Senses please Such is the Virgin in my eyes That lives loves marries e're she dies Like Marrow bone was never broken Or Commendations and no Token Like a Fort and none to win it Or like the Moone and no man in it Like a Schoole without a Teacher Or like a Pulpit and no Preacher Just such as these may she be said That lives ne're loves but dies a Maid The broken Marrow bone is sweet The token doth adorne the greet There 's triumph in the Fort being woon The man tides glorious in the Moon The Schoole is by the Teacher still'd The Pulpit by the Preacher fill'd Such is the Virgin in my eyes That lives loves marries e're she dies Like a Cage without a Bird Or a thing too long deferr'd Like the Gold was never tryed Or the ground unoccupied Like a House that 's not possessed Or the Book was never pressed Just such as these may she be said That lives ne're loves but dies a maid The Bird in Cage doth sweetly sing Due Season prefers every thing The Gold that 's try'd from drosse is pur'd There 's profit in the ground mannur'd The House is by possession graced The Book when press'd is then embraced Such is the Virgin in my eyes That lives loves marries e're she dies A Description of Love LOve is a Region full of fires And burning with extreame desires An Object seeks of which possest The wheeles are fix'd the motions rest The flames in Ashes lie opprest This Meteor striving high to rise The fewell spent fals down and dies Much sweeter and more pure delights Are drawn from faire alluring sights When ravisht minds attempt to praise Commanding Eyes like heavenly raies Whose force the gentle heart obeys Then where the end of this pretence Descends to base inferiour sence Why then should Lovers most will say Expect so much th' enjoying day Love is like youth he thirsts for age He scornes to be his mothers Page But when proceeding times asswage The former heat he will complaine And wish those pleasant houres againe We know that hope and love are twins Hope gone fruition now begins But what is this unconstant fraile In nothing sure but sure to faile Which if we lose it we bewaile And when we have it still we beare The worst of passions daily feare When Love thus in his Center ends Desire and Hope his inward friends Are shaken off while doubt and griefe The weakest givers of reliefe Stand in his Councell as the Chiefe And now he to his period brought From Love becomes some other thought These Lines I write not to remove United soules from serious love The best attemps by Mortals made Reflect on things which quickly fade Yet never will I men perswade To leave affections where may shine Impressions of the love Divine The Shepherdesse A Shepherdesse who long had kept her Flocks On stony Charnwoods dry and barren Rocks In heate of Summer to the Vales declin'd To seek fresh pasture for her Lambs halfe pin'd She while her charge was feeding spent the houres To gaze on sliding Brooks and smiling flowers A Funerall Elogie on the Death of the Lady Penelope Clifton SInce thou art dead Clifton the world may see A certaine end of flesh and bloud in thee Till then a way was left for man to cry Flesh may be made so pure it cannot dye But now thy unexpected death doth strike With griefe the better and the worse alike The good are sad they are not with thee there The bad have found they must not tarry here Death I confesse 't is just in thee to try Thy power on us for thou thy selfe must dye Thou pay'st but Wages Death yet I would know What strange delight thou tak'st to pay them so When thou com'st face to face thou strik'st us mute And all our liberty is to dispute With thee behinde thy back which I will use If thou hadst brav'ry in thee thou wouldst chuse Since thou art absolute and canst controule All things beneath a reasonable soule Some look for way of killing if her day Had ended in a fire a sword or sea Or hadst thou come hid in a hundred yeares To make an end of all her hopes and feares Or any other way direct to thee Which Nature might esteeme an Enemy Who would have chid thee now it shews thy hand Desires to cosin where it might command Thou art not prone to kill but where th' intent Of those that suffer is their nourishment If thou canst steale into a dish and creep When all is still as though into a sleep And cover thy dry body with a draught Whereby some innocent Lady may be caught And cheated of her life then thou wilt come And stretch thy selfe upon her early Tombe And laugh as pleas'd to shew thou canst devoure Mortality as well by wit as power I would thou hadst had eyes or not a Dart That yet at least the cloathing of that heart Thou strook'st so spightfully might have appear'd To thee and with a Reverence have been fear'd But since thou art so blind receive from me Who 't was on whom thou wrought'st this Tragedy She was a Lady who for publique Fame Never since she in thy protection came Who sett'st all living tongues at large receiv'd A blemish with her beauty she deceiv'd No man when taken with it they agree 'T was Natures fault when from 'em 't was in thee And such her vertue was that although she Receive as much joy having pass'd through thee As
he might contract an Union They two were one yet like an Eagle spread I' th' Body joyn'd but parted in the head For you my brat that pose the Porph'ry Chaire Pope John or Joane or whatsoe're you are You are a Nephew grieve not at your state For all the world is illegitimate Man cannot get a man unlesse the Sun Club to the Act of Generation The Sun and Man get Man thus Tom and I Are the joynt Fathers of thy Poetry For since blest shade this Verse is Male but mine O' th weaker sex a fancy femenine Wee 'l part the Child and yet commit no slaughter So shall it be thy son and yet my daughter To the Mutable Faire HEre Coelia for thy sake I part With all that grew so neere my heart The passion that I had for thee The Faith the Love the Constancy And that I may successefull prove Transforme my selfe to what you love Foole that I was so much to prize Those simple vertues you despise Foole that which such dull arrows strove Or hop'd to reach a flying Dove For you that are in motion still Decline our force and mock our skill Who like Don Quixote do advance Against a Windmill our vaine Lance. Now will I wander through the aire Mount make a stoope at every faire And with a fancy unconfin'd As lawlesse as the Sea or Wind Pursue you wheresoe're you flie And with your various thoughts comply The formall stars do travell so As we their Names and Courses know And he that on their Changes looks Would thinke them govern'd by our books But never were the Clouds reduc'd To any Art the motion us'd By those free vapours are so light So frequent that the conquer'd sight Despaires to find the rules that guide Those gilded shadows as they slide And therefore of the spatious aire Jove's Royall Consort had the care And by that power did once escape Declining bold Ixions rape She with her own resemblance grac'd A shining cloud which he imbrac'd Such was that Image so it smil'd With seeming kindness which beguil'd Your Thirsis lately when he thought He had his fleeting Coelia caught 'T was shap'd like her but for the faire He fill'd his Armes with yeelding aire A Fate for which he grieves the lesse Because the gods had like successe For in their Story one we see Pursues a Nymph and takes a Tree A second with a Lovers haste Soone overtakes what he had chaste But she that did a Virgin seeme Possess'd appears a wandring streame For his supposed Love a third Laies greedy hold upon a Bird And stands amaz'd to see his Deare A wild Inhabitant of the Aire To such old tales such Nymphs as you Give credit and still make them new The Amorous now like wonders find In the swift changes of your mind But Coelia if you apprehend The Muse of your incensed friend Nor would that he record your blame And make it live repeat the same Againe deceive him and againe And then he sweares he 'l not complaine For still to be deluded so Is all the pleasures Lovers know Who like good Falkners take delight Not in the Quarrey but the flight Of Loving at first sight NOt caring to observe the wind Or the new sea explore Snatcht from thy selfe how far behind Already I behold the shore May not a thousand dangers sleep In the smooth bosome of this deep No 't is so rocklesse and so cleare That the rich Bottom does appeare Pav'd all with precious things not torne From shipwrackt vessels but there borne Sweetnesse truth and every grace Which time and use are wont to teach The eye may in a moment reach And read distinctly in her face Some other Nymph with colour faint And Pencill slow may Cupid paint And a weake heart in time destroy She has a stampe and prints the Boy Can with a single looke inflame The coldest Breast the Rudest tame Tho. Batt The Antiplatonick FOr shame thou everlasting wooer Still saying grace and never falling to her Love that 's in contemplation plac'd Is Venus drawn but to the waste Unlesse your flame confesse its gender And your Parley cause surrender Y' are Salamanders of a cold desire That live untoucht amid the hottest fire What though she be a Dame of stone The Widow of Pigmalion As hard and unrelenting she As the new crusted Niobe Or what doth more of statue carry A Nun of the Platonick Quarry Love melts the Rigour which the Rocks have bred A Flint will break upon a feather bed For shame you pretty female Elves Cease for to candy up your selves No more you Sectaries of the Game No more of your calcining flame Women commence by Cupids Dart As a King hunting dubs a Hart Loves Votaries inthrale each others soule Till both of them live but upon Parole Vertue 's no more in Women kind But the green-sicknesse of the mind Phylosophy their new delight A kind of Charcoale appetite There 's no Sophistry prevailes Where all-convincing Love assailes But the disputing petticoat will warp As skilfull Gamesters are to seek at sharp The Souldier that man of Iron Whom ribs of Horror all inviron That 's strung with wire instead of veines In whose embraces you 're in Chaines Let a Magnetick girle appeare Straight he turnes Cupids Cuiraseer Love stormes his lips and takes the Fortresse in For all the bristled Turn-pikes of his Chin. Since Loves Artillery then checks The breast-works of the firmest Sex Come let 's in affections riot Th' are sickly pleasures keep a Diet. Give me a Lover bold and free Not Eunucht with formality Like an Embassadour that beds a Queen With the nice Caution of a Sword between Song SAy lovely dreame where couldst thou find Shales to counterfeit that face Colours of this glorious kind Come not from any Mortall place In Heaven it selfe thou sure wert drest With that Angel-like disguise Thus deluded am I blest And see my joy with closed eyes But ah this Image is too kind To be other than a dreame Cruell Sacharissa's mind Never put on that sweet extreame Faire Dreame if thou intend'st me grace Change this heavenly forme of thine Paint despis'd love in thy face And make it to appeare like mine Pale Wan and Meager let it looke With a pitty-moving shape Such as wander by the brooke Of Lethe or from Graves escape Then to that Matchlesse Nymph appeare In whose shape thou shinest so Softly in her sleeping eare With humble words expresse my woe Perhaps from greatnesse state and pride Thus surprised she may fall Sleep does disproportion hide And death resembling equals all Song II. BEhold the brand of Beauty tost See how the motion does dilate the flame Delighted Love his spoiles does boast And triumph in this game Fire to no place confin'd Is both our wonder and our feare Moving the Mind Like lightning hurled through the aire High heaven the glory doth increase Of all her shining Lamps this Artfull way The Sun in figures such as these
Joies with the Moone to play To these sweet straines they advance Which do result from their own spheares As this Nymphs dance Moves with the Numbers which she heares An Elegy HEaven knows my love to thee fed on desires So hallowed and unmixt with vulgar fires As are the purest Beames shot from the Sun At his full height and the devotion Of dying Martyrs could not burne more cleare Nor Innocence in her first Robes appeare Whiter than our affections they did show Like frost forc'd out of flames and fire from snow So pure the Phoenix when she did refine Her Age to Youth borrow'd no flames but mine But now my day's so'recast for I have now Drawn Anger like a Tempest o're the brow Of my faire Mistris those your glorious eyes Whence I was wont to see my day star rise Thereat like revengefull Meteors and I feele My Torment my gilt double my hell 'T was a mistake and might have veniall been Done to another but it was made sin And justly mortall too by troubling thee Slight wrongs are Treasons done to Majesty O all ye blest Ghosts of deceased Loves That now lie sainted in the Eclesian Groves Mediate for mercy for me at her shrine Meet with full Quire and joine your prayers with mine Conjure her by the merits of your kisses By your past sufferings and your present blisses Conjure her by your mutuall hopes and feares By all your intermixed sighs and Teares To plead my pardon go to her and tell That you will walke the Guardian Sentinell My soules safe Genii that she need not feare A mutinous thought or one close Rebell there But what needs that when she alone sits there Sole Angell of that Orbe in her own spheare Alone she sits and can secure it free From all irregular motions only she Can give the Balsome that must cure this sore And the sweet Antidote to sin no more Vpon Mr Charles Beaumont Who died of a Consumption VVHile others drop their teares upon thy hearse Sweet Charles and sigh t' increase the wind my Verse Pious in naming thee cannot complaine Of Death or Fate for they were lately slaine By thy own conflict and since good men know What Heaven to such a virgin Saint doth owe Though some will say they saw thee dead yet I Congratulate thy life and victory Thy flesh an upper garment that it might Aide thy eternall progresse first grew light Nothing but Angel now which thou wert neere Almost reduc'd to thy first spirit here But fly faire soule while our Complaints are just That cannot follow for our Chaines of dust Fie on Love NOw fie on foolish Love it not befits Or Man or Woman know it Love was not meant for people in their wits And they that fondly shew it Betray the straw and Feathers in their braine And shall have Bedlam for their paine If single love be such a curse To marry is to make it ten times worse A Song GO and catch a falling star Get with child a Mandrake root Tell me where all past yeares are Or who cleft the divels foot Teach me to heare Mermaids singing Or to keep off envies stinging And find What wind Serves to advance an honest mind If thou beâ—st borne to strange sights Things invisible to see Ride ten thousand daies and nights Till Age snow white haires on thee Thou when thou return'st wilt tell me All strange wonders that befell thee And sweare No where Lives a Woman true and faire Secresie protested FEare not deare Love that I 'le reveale Those hours of pleasure we two steale No eye shall see nor yet the Sun Descry what thou and I have done No eare shall heare our love but we Silent as the night will be The God of Love himselfe whose dart Did first wound mine and then thy heart Shall never know that we can tell What sweets in stoln embraces dwell This only meanes may find it out If when I die Physitians doubt What caus'd my death and there to view Of all their judgements which was true Rip up my heart O then I feare The world will see thy picture there Eternity of Love protested HOw ill doth He deserve a Lovers name Whose pale weake flame Cannot retaine His heat in spight of absence or disdaine But doth at once like paper set on fire Burne and expire True love can never change his seat Nor did he ever love that could retreat That noble flame which my breast keeps alive Shall still survive When my soule 's fled Nor shall my love die when my bodie 's dead That shall waite on me to the lower shade And never fade My very Ashes in their Urne Shall like a hallowed Lamp for ever burne The willing Prisoner to his MISTRIS LEt Fooles great Cupid's yoake disdaine Loving their own wild freedome better Whilst proud of my triumphant Chaine I sit and court my beautious fetter Her murd'ring glances snaring haires And her bewitching smiles so please me As he brings ruine that repaires The sweet afflictions that displease me Hide not those panting bals of snow With envious veiles from my beholding Unlock those lips their pearly row In a sweet smile of love unfolding And let those eyes whose motion wheeles The restlesse fate of every Lover Survey the paines my sick heart feeles And wounds themselves have made discover A Maske of the Gentlemen of Graies Inne and the Inner Temple by Mr Francis Beaumont Enter Iris Running Mercury following and Catching hold of her Mercury STay light-foot Iris for thou striv'st in vaine My Wings are nimbler than thy feet Iris away Dissembling Mercury my Messages Aske honest haste not like those wanton ones Your thundring Father sends Mer. Stay foolish Maid Or I will take my rise upon a hill When I perceive thee seated in a Cloud In all the Painted Glory that thou hast And never cease to clap my willing wing Till I catch hold on thy discolour'd bow And shiver it beyond the Angry power Of your mad Mistris to make up againe Iris. Hermes forbeare Juno will chide and strike Is great Jove jealous that I am imployed Or her love Errands she did never yet Claspe weak Mortality in her white Armes As he hath often done I only come To celebrate the long-wish'd nuptials Here in Olympia which are now perform'd Betwixt two goodly Rivers that have mix'd Their gentle winding waves and are to grow Into a thousand streames great as themselves I need not name them for the sound is loud In Heaven and Earth and I am sent from her The Queene of marriage that was present here And smil'd to see them joyne and hath not chid Since it was done God Hermes let me go Mer. Nay you must stay Joves Message is the same Whose eyes are Lightning and whose voice is Thunder Whose breath is Airy wind he will who knowes How to be first in Earth as well as Heaven Iris. But what hath he to do with Nuptiall rites Let him sit pleas'd upon his
A thing not fit for gravity For theirs are foule and hardly three Pas Ha ha ha Bas Ho ho ho. Pas Democritus thou ancient Fleerer Now I misse thy laugh and ha since Bas There you nam'd the famous Jeerer That ever jeer'd in Rome or Athens Pas Ha ha ha Bas Ho ho ho. Pas How brave lives he that keeps a foole Although the rate be deeper Pas But he that is his own foole sir Does live a great deale cheaper Pas Sure I shall burst burst quite breake thou art so witty Bas 'T is rare to breake at Court for that belongs to th' Citty Pas Ha ha my spleene is almost worn to the last laughter Bas O keepe a corner for a friend a jest may come hereafter The Prologue to the Tamer Tamed LAdies to you in whose defence and right Fletchers brave Muse prepar'd her selfe to fight A battle without bloud 't was well fought too The Victorie's yours though got with much adoe We do present this Comedy in which A rivulet of pure wit flows strong and rich In Fancy Language and all parts that may Adde Grace and Ornament to a merry Play Which this may prove Yet not to go too far In promises from this our Female war We do intreat the angry men would not Expect the Mazes of a subtle plot Set speeches high expressions and what 's worse In a true Comedy Politique discourse The end we aime at is to make you sport Yet neither gaule the City nor the Court Heare and observe his Comique straine and when Y' are sick of Melancholly see 't agen 'T is no deare Physick since 't will quit the cost Or his Intentions with our paines are lost The Epilogue THe Tamers tam'd but so as nor the men Can find one just cause to complaine of when They fitly do consider in their lives They should not raigne as Tyrants or'e their wives Nor can the woman from this president Insult or triumph it being aptly meant To teach both Sexes due equality And as they stand bound to love mutually If this effect arising from a cause Well laid and grounded may deserve applause We something more then hope our honest ends Will keep the men and women too our friends The Prologue to the Martiall Maid STatues and Pictures challenge praise and Fame If they can justly boast and prove they came From Phydeas or Apelles None deny Poets and Picture Painters hold a Sympathy Yet their workes may decay and lose their grace Receiving blemish in their Limbs or Face When the Minds Art hath this Preheminence She still retaineth her first Excellence Then why should not this deare peece be esteem'd Child to the richest Fancies that e're teem'd When not their meanest Off-spring that came forth But bore the image of their Fathers worth Beaumonts and Fletchers whose desert out-weighs The best Applause and their least sprig of Bayes Is worthy Phoebus and who comes to gather Their fruits of Wit he shall not rob the Treasure Nor can you ever surfeit of the plenty Nor can you call them rare though they be dainty The more you take the more you do them right And we will thanke you for your own delight The Epilogue OUr Author feares there are some Rebels hearts Whose dulnesse doth oppose Loves piercing Darts Such will be apt to say there wanted wit The Language low very few Scenes are writ With spirit and life such odd things as these He cares not for nor never meanes to please For if your selves a Mistris or loves friends Are lik'd with this smooth Play he hath his ends A Song to the Play called Wit at severall Weapons FAine would I wake you Sweet but feare I should invite you to worse cheare In your dreames you cannot fare Meaner than Musick no compare None of your slumbers are compil'd Under the pleasure makes a Child Your day-delights so well compact That what you thinke turnes all to Act I 'de wish my life no better play Your dreame by night your thought by day Wake gently wake Part softly from your dreames The morning flies To your faire eyes To take her speciall beames The Prologue to the Faire Maid of the Inne PLaies have their fates not as in their true sence They 're understood but as the influence Of idle custome madly works upon The drosse of many tongu'd opinion A worthy story howsoever writ For language modest mirth conceit oâ— wit Mercies oft times with the sweet Commendation Of hang 't 't is scurvey when for approbation A Jigge shall be clapt at and every Rhime Prais'd and applauded by a clam'rous chyme Let ignorance and laughter dwell together They are beneath the Muses petty Hether Came Nobler Judgements and to those the straine Of our invention is not bent in vaine The faire maid of the Inne to you commends Her hopes and welcomes and withall intends In the entertaines to which she doth invite ye All things to please and some things to delight ye The Epilogue VVE would faine please ye and as faine be pleas'd 'T is but a little liking both are eas'd We have your money and you have our ware And to our understanding good and faire For your own wisdomes sake be not so mad To acknowledge ye have bought things deare and bad Let not a brack i' th stuffe or here and there The fading glosse a generall losse appeare We know ye take up worse Commodities And dearer pay yet thinke your bargains wise We know in meat and wine ye fling away More time and wealth which is but dearer pay And with the Reckoning all the pleasure lost We bid you not unto repenting cost The price is easie and so light the Play That ye may new digest it ev'ry day Then Noble friends as ye would choose a Mistris Only to please the Eye a while and kisse Till a good wife be got So let this Play Hold ye a while untill a better may First Song to the Tragedy of Valentinian NOw the lusty spring is seene Golden yellow gaudy blew Daintily invite the view Every where on every Greene Roses blushing as they blow And inticing men to pull Lillies whiter than the snow Woodbines of sweet honey full All Loves Emblems and all cry Ladies if not pluck'd we dye Yet the lusty Spring hath stayd Blushing red and purest white Daintily to love invite Every woman every maid Cherries kissing as they grow And inviting men to taste Apples even ripe below Winding gently to the waste All loves Emblems and all cry Ladies if not pluckt we dye The second Song HEare ye Ladies that despise What the mighty love hath done Feare Examples and be wise Feare Calisto was a Nun. Leda sailing on the streame To deceive the hopes of man Love accounting but a dreame Doted on a silver Swan Danae in a brazen Tower Where no love was loov'd a Flower Heare ye Ladies that are coy What the mighty love can do Feare the fiercenesse of the Boy The chaste Moone he makes to wooe Vesta