Compiled with great variety of Wit and
Learning, full of Delight;

Wherein eſpecially is contained a compleat
Diſcourſe and Deſcription of
The Four Elements
Ages of Man,
Seasons of the Year

Together with an exact Epitome of
the three first Monarchyes
Viz. The Assyrian,
And the beginning of the Romane Common-wealth
to the end of their laſt King:

With diverſe other pleaſant & ſerious Poems,

By a Gentlewoman in New-England.

The ſecond Edition, Corrected by the Author,
and enlarged by an Addition of ſeveral other
Poems found amongſt her Papers
after her Death.

Boſton, Printed by John Foſter, 16781678.

a2v a3r

Kind Reader:

Had I the opportunity but to borrow ſome of the Authors wit, ’tis poſſible I might ſo trim this curious work with ſuch quaint expreſſions, as that the Preface might beſpeak thy further Peruſal; but I fear ’twill be a ſhame for a Man that can ſpeak ſo little, To be ſeen in the title page of this Womans Book, left by comparing the one with the other, the Reader ſhould paſs his ſentence that it is the gift of two lettersflawed-reproduction men not only to ſpeak moſt but to ſpeak beſt; I one wordflawed-reproduction leave therefore to commend that, which with any ingenious Reader will too much commend the Author, unleſs men turn more peeviſh then women, to envy the excellency of the inferiour Sex. I doubt not but the Reader will quickly find more then I can ſay, and the worſt effect of his reading will be unbelief, which will make him queſtion whether it be a womans work, and aske, Is is poſſible? If any do, take this as an anſwer from him that dares avow it; It is the Work of a Woman, honoured, and eſteemed where ſhe lives, for her gracious demeanour, her eminent parts, her pious coverſation, her courteous diſpoſition, her exact diligence in her place, and diſcreet managing of her Family a3 occa a3v occaſions, and more then ſo, theſe Poems are the fruit but of ſome few houres, curtailed from her ſleep and other refreſhments. I dare adde little leſt I keep thee too long; if thou wilt not believe the worth of theſe things (in their kind) when a man ſayes it, yet believe it from a woman when thou ſeeſt it. This only I ſhall annex, I fear the diſpleaſure of no perſon in the publiſhing of theſe Poems but the Author, without whoſe knowledg, and contrary to her expectation, I have preſumed to bring to publick view, what ſhe reſolved in ſuch a manner ſhould never ſee the Sun; but I found that diverſe had gotten ſome ſcattered Papers, affected them well, were likely to have ſent forth broken pieces, to the Authors prejudice, which I thought to prevent, as well as to pleaſure thoſe that earneſtly deſired the view of the whole.

Mercu- a4v

Mercury ſhew’d Apollo, Bartas Book,

Minerva this and wiſht him well to look,

And tell uprightly, which did which excell

He view’d and view’d, and vow’d he could not tel

They bid him Hemiſphear his mouldy noſe,

With’s crackt leering glaſſes, for it would poſe

The beſt brains he had in’s old pudding-pan

Sex weigh’d, which beſt the Woman, or the Man?

He peer’d, and por’d, & glar’d, & ſaid for wore,

I’me even as wiſe now, as I was before:

They both ’gan laugh, and ſaid, it was no mar’l

The Auth’reſs was a right Du Bartas Girle.

Good ſooth quoth the old Don, tell ye me ſo,

I muſe whither at length theſe Girls will go;

It half revives my chil froſt-bitten blood,

To ſee a Woman once, do ought that’s good;

And chode by Chaucers Boots, and Homers Furrs,

Let Men look to’t, leaſt Women wear the Spurrs.

N. Ward.


To my dear Siſter, the Author of theſe Poems.

Though moſt that know me, dare (I think) affirm

I ne’re was born to do a Poet harm,

Yet when I read your pleaſant witty ſtrains,

It wrought ſo ſtrongly on my addle brains;

That though my verſe be not ſo finely ſpun

And ſo (like yours) cannot ſo neatly run,

Yet am I willing, with upright intent,

To ſhew my love without a complement.

There needs no painting to that comely face,

That in its native beauty hath ſuch grace;

What I (poor ſilly I) prefix therefore,

Can but do this, make yours admir’d the more;

And if but only this, I do attain

Content, that my diſgrace may be your gain.

If women, I with women may compare,

Your works are ſolid, others weak as Air;

Some Books of Women I have heard of late,

Peruſed ſome, ſo witleſs, intricate,

So void of ſenſe, and truth, as if to erre

Were only wiſht (acting above their ſphear)

And all to get, what (ſilly Souls) they lack,

Eſteem to be the wiſeſt of the pack;

Though a5r

Though (for your ſake) to ſome this be permitted,

To print yet wiſh I many better witted;

Their vanity make this to be enquired,

If Women are with wit and ſence inſpired:

Yet when your Works ſhall come to publick view,

’Twill be affirm’d, ’twill be confirm’d by you:

And I, when ſeriouſly I had revolved

What you had done I preſently reſolved,

Theirs was the Perſons, not the Sexes failing,

And therefore did be-ſpeak a modeſt vailing.

You have acutely in Eliza’s ditty,

Acquitted Women, elſe I might with pitty,

Have wiſht them all to womens Works to look,

And never more to meddle with their book.

What you have done, the Sun ſhall witneſs bear,

That for a woman’s Work ’tis very rare;

And if the Nine, vouchſafe the Tenth a place,

I think they rightly may yield you that grace.

But leaſt I ſhould exceed, and too much love,

Should too too much endear’d affection move,

To ſuper-adde in praiſes, I ſhall ceaſe,

Leaſt while I pleaſe my ſelf I ſhould diſpleaſe

The longing Reader, who may chance complain,

And ſo requite my love with deep diſdain;

That I your ſilly Servant, ſtand i’th’ Porch

Lighting your Sun-Light, with my blinking Torch;

Hindring his minds content, his ſweet repoſe,

Which your delightful Poems do diſcloſe

When once the Caskets op’ned, yet to you

Let this be added, then I’le bid adieu,

If a5v

If you ſhall think, it will be to your ſhame

To be in print, then I muſt bear the blame:

If’t be a fault ’tis mine, ’tis ſhame that might

Deny ſo fair an Infant of its right,

To look abroad; I know your modeſt mind,

How you will bluſh complain, ’tis too unkind:

To force a womans birth provoke her pain,

Expoſe her labours to the Worlds diſdain.

I know you I ſay, you do defie that mint,

That ſtampt you thus to be a fool in print.

’Tis true it doth not now ſo neatly ſtand,

As if ’twere polliſht with your own ſweet hand;

’Tis not ſo richly deckt, ſo trimly tir’d,

Yet it is ſuch as juſtly is admir’d.

If it be folly, ’tis of both, or neither,

Both you and I, we’l both be fools together;

And he that ſayes, ’tis fooliſh, one wordobscuredmy word

May ſway)by my conſent ſhall make the third,

I dare out-face the worlds diſdain for both,

If you alone profeſs you are not wroth;

Yet if you are, a Womans wrath is little,

When thouſands elſe admire you in each Tittle.

Upon a6r

Upon the Author; by a known Friend.

Now I believe Tradition, which doth call

The Muſes, Virtues, Graces, Females all,

Only they are not nine, eleven nor three;

Our Auth’reſs proves them but one unity.

Mankind take up ſome bluſhes on the ſcore;

Monopolize perfection no more;

In your own Arts, confeſs your ſelves out-done,

The Moon hath totally eclips’d the Sun

Not with her ſable Mantle muffling him,

But her bright ſilver makes his gold look dim:

Juſt as his beams force our paone letterflawed-reproduction lamps to wink,

And earthly Fires, within their aſhes ſhrink.


I cannot wonder at Apollo now,

That he with Female Laurel crown’d his brow,

That made him witty: had I leave to choſe,

My Verſe ſhould be a page unto your Muſe


In a6v

In praiſe of the Author, Miſtris Anne Bradſtreet, Virtues true and lively Pattern, Wife of the Worſhipfull Simon Bradſtreet Esq;

At preſent reſiding in the Occidental parts of the World in America, Alias Nov-Anglia.

What golden ſplendent Star is this ſo bright,

One thouſand Mile approximately two lettersflawed-reproductionwice told, both day and night,

(From th’ Orient firſt ſprung) now from the Weſt

That ſhines; ſwift winged Phœbus, and the reſt

Of all Jove’s fiery flames ſurmounting far

As doth each Planet, every falling Star;

By whoſe divine and lucid light moſt clear

Natures dark ſecret myſteryes appear;

Heavens, Earths, admired wonders, noble act:

Of Kings and Princes moſt heroick facts,

And what e’re elſe in darkneſs ſeem’d to dye,

Revives all things ſo obvious now to th’ eye,

That he who theſe its glittering rayes views o’re,

Shall ſee what’s done in all the world before.


Upon a7r

Upon the Author

Twere extream folly ſhould I dare attempt,

To praiſe this Authors worth with complement;

None but her ſelf muſt dare commend her parts,

Whoſe ſublime brain’s the Synopſis of Arts.

Nature and skill here both in one agree,

To frame this Maſter-piece of Poetry:

Falſe Fame belye their Sex no more, it can

Surpaſs, or parallel, the beſt of Man.


Another to Mrs. Anne Bradſtreet, Author of this Poem.

Ive read your Poem (Lady) and admire,

Your Sex to ſuch a pitch ſhould e’re aſpire;

Go on to write, continue to relate,

New Hiſtoryes, of Monarchy and State:

And what the Romans to their Poets gave,

Be ſure ſuch honour, and eſteem you’l have.


An Anagram.

Anna Bradeſtreate Deer neat An Bartas

So Bartas like thy fine ſpun Poems been,

That Bartas name will prove an Epicene.


Anne Bradſtreate Artes bred neat An.

Upon a7v

Upon Mrs. Anne Bradſtreet

Her Poems &c.

Madam, twice through the Muſes Grove I walkt,

Under your bliſsfull bowres, I ſhrowding there,

It ſeem’d with Nymphs of Helicon I talkt.

For there thoſe ſweet-lip’d Siſters ſporting were,

Apollo with his ſacred Lute ſate by,

On high they made their heavenly Sonnets flye,

Poſies around they ſtrow’d, of ſweeteſt Poeſie.


Twice have I drunk the Nectar of your lines,

Which high ſublim’d my mean born phantaſie.

Fluſht with theſe ſtreams of your Maronean wines

Above my ſelf rapt to an extaſie:

Methougth I was upon mount Hiblas top,

There where I might thoſe fragrant flowers lop,

Whence did ſweet odors flow, and honey ſpangles drop.


To Venus ſhrine no Altars raiſed are,

Nor venom’d ſhafts from painted quiver fly,

Nor wanton Doves of Aphrodites Carr,

Or fluttering there, nor here forlornly lie,

Lorne Paramours, not chatting birds tell news

How ſage Apollo, Daphne hot purſues,

Or ſtately Jove himſelf is wont to haunt the ſtews.

Nor a8r


Nor barking Satyrs breath, nor driery clouds

Exhal’d from Styx, their diſmal drops diſtil

Within theſe Fairy, flowry fields, nor ſhrouds

The ſcreeching night Raven, with his ſhady quill:

But Lyrick ſtrings here Orpheus nimbly hitts,

Orion on his ſadled Dolphin ſits,

Chanting as every humour, age & ſeaſon fits.


Here ſilver ſwans, with Nightingales ſet ſpells,

Which ſweetly charm the Traveller, and raiſe

Earths earthed Monarchs, from their hidden Cells,

And to appearance ſummons lapſed dayes,

There heav’nly air, becalms the ſwelling frayes,

And fury fell of Elements allayes

By paying every one due tribute of his praiſe.


This ſeem’d the Scite of all thoſe verdant vales,

And purled ſprings, whereat the Nymphs do play,

With lofty hills, where Poets rear their tales,

To heavenly vaults, which heav’nly ſound repay

By ecchoes ſweet rebound, here Ladyes kiſs,

Circling nor ſongs, nor dances circle miſs;

But whilſt thoſe Syrens ſung, I ſunk in ſea of bliſs.


Thus weltring in delight, my virgin mind

Admits a rape; truth ſtill lyes undiſcri’d,

Its ſingular, that plural ſeem’d, I find,

’Twas Fancies glaſs alone that multipli’d;

Nature with Art ſo cloſely did combine,

I thought I ſaw the Muſes trebble trine,

Which prov’d your lonely Muſe, ſuperiour to the nine.

Your a8v


Your only hand thoſe Poeſies did compoſe,

Your head the ſource, whence all thoſe ſprings did flow,

Your voice whence changes ſweeteſt notes aroſe,

Your feet that kept the dance alone, I trow:

Then vail your bonnets, Poetaſters all,

Strike, lower amain and at theſe humbly fall,

And deem your ſelves advanc’d to be her Pedeſtal.


Should all with lowly Congies Laurels bring,

Waſte Floraes Magazine to find a wreathe;

Or Pineus Banks ’twere too mean offering,

Your Muſe a fairer Garland doth bequeath

To guard your fairer front; here ’tis your name

Shall ſtand immarbled; this your little frame

Shall great Coloſſus be, to your eternal fame.

I’le pleaſe my ſelf, though I my ſelf diſgrace,

What errors here be found, are in Errataes place.

J. Rogers.

To A1r 1

To her moſt Honoured Father Thomas Dudley Eſq; theſe humbly preſented.

T.D. On the four parts of the world. Dear Sir of late delighted with the ſight

Of your four Siſters cloth’d in black and white,

Of fairer Dames the Sun ne’r ſaw the face;

Though made a pedeſtal for Adams Race;

Their worth ſo ſhines in thoſe rich lines you ſhow

Their paralels to finde I ſcarcely know

To climbe their Climes, I have nor ſtrength nor skill

To mount ſo high requires an Eagles quill;

Yet view thereof did cauſe my thoughts to ſoar

My lowly pen might wait upon thoſe four

I bring my four times four, now meanly clad

To do their homage, unto yours, full glad:

Who for their Age, their worth and quality

Might ſeem of yours to claim precedency:

But by my humble hand, thus rudely pen’d

They are, your bounden handmaids to attend

A Theſe A1v 2

Theſe ſame are they from whom we being have

Theſe are of all, the Life the Nurſe, the Grave,

Theſe are the hot, the cold, the moiſt, the dry,

That ſink, that ſwim, that fill, that upwards fly,

Of theſe conſiſts our bodies, Cloathes and Food,

The World, the uſeful hurtful, and the good,

Sweet harmony they keep, yet jar oft times

Their diſcord doth appear, by thſe har sh rimes

Yours did conteſt for wealth, for Arts for Age,

My firſt do ſhew their good, and then their rage.

My other foures do intermixed tell

Each others faults, and where themſelves excell.

How hot and dry contend with moiſt and cold,

How Air and Earth no correſpondence hold,

And yet in equal tempers, how they ’gree

How divers natures make one Unity

Something of all (though mean) I did intend

But fear’d you’ld judge Du Bartas was my friend

I honour him, but dare not wear his wealth

My goods are true (though poor) I love no ſtealth

But if I did I durſt not ſend them you

Who muſt reward a Thief, but with his due.

I ſhall not need, mine innocence to clear

Theſe ragged lines, will do’t, when they appear:

On what they are your mild aſpect I crave

Accept my beſt, my worſt vouchſafe a Grave.

From her that to your ſelf, more duty owes

Then water in the boundleſs Ocean flows.

1642-03-20March 20. 1642

Anne Bradstreet.

A2r 3

The Prologue.


To ſing of Wars, of Captains, and of Kings,

Of Cities founded, Common-wealths begun,

For my mean pen are too ſuperiour things:

Or how they all, or each their dates have run

Let Poets and Hiſtorians ſet theſe forth,

My obſcure Lines ſhall not ſo dim their worth.


But when my wondring eyes and envious heart

Great Bartas ſugar’d lines, do but read o’re

Fool I do grudg the Muſes did not part

’Twixt him and me that overfluent ſtore,

A Bartas can, do what a Bartas will

But ſimple I according to my skill.


From ſchool-boyes tongue no rhet’rick we expect

Nor yet a ſweet Conſort from broken ſtrings,

Nor perfect beauty, where’s a main defect:

My fooliſh, broken blemiſh’d Muſe ſo ſings

And this to mend, alas, no Art is able,

’Cauſe nature, made it ſo irreparable.


Nor can I, like that fluent ſweet tongu’d Greek,

Who liſp’d at firſt, in future times ſpeak plain

By Art he gladly found what he did ſeek

A full requital of his, ſtriving pain

A2 An A2v 4

Art can do much, but this maxime’s moſt ſure

A weak or wounded brain admits no cure.


I am obnoxious to each carping tongue

Who ſays my hand a needle better fits,

A Poets pen all ſcorn I ſhould thus wrong.

For ſuch deſpite they caſt on Female wits:

If what I do prove well, it won’t advance,

They’l ſay it’s ſtoln, or elſe it was by chance.


But ſure the Antique Greeks were far more mild

Elſe of our Sexe, why feigned they thoſe Nine

And poeſy made, Calliope’s own Child;

So ’mongſt the reſt they placed the Arts Divine

But this weak knot, they will full ſoon untie,

The Greeks did nought, but play the fools & lye.


Let Greeks be Greeks, and women what they are

Men have precedency and ſtill excell,

It is but vain unjuſtly to wage warre;

Men can do beſt, and women know it well

Preheminence in all and each is yours;

Yet grant ſome ſmall acknowledggement of ours.


And oh ye high flown quills that ſoar the Skies,

And ever with your prey ſtill catch your praiſe,

If e’re you daigne theſe lowly lines your eyes

Give Thyme or Parſley wreath I ask no bayes,

This mean and unrefined ure of mine

Will make you gliſtring gold, but more to ſhine:

The A3r 5

The Four Elements

The Fire, Air, Earth and water did conteſt

Which was the ſtrongeſt, nobleſt and the beſt,

Who was of greateſt uſe and might’eſt force:

In placide Terms they thought now to diſcourſe,

That in due order each her turn ſhould ſpeak;

But enmity this amity did break

All would be chief, and all ſcorn’d to be under

Whence iſſu’d winds & rains, lightning & thunder

The quaking earth did groan, the Sky lookt black

The Fire, the forced Air, in ſunder crack;

The ſea did threat the heav’ns, the heavn’s the earth,

All looked like a Chaos or new birth:

Fire broyled Earth, & ſcorched Earth it choaked

Both by their darings, water ſo provoked

That roaring in it came, and with its ſource

Soon made the Combatants abate their force

The rumbling hiſſing, puffing was ſo great

The worlds confuſion, it did ſeem to threat

Till gentle Air, Contention ſo abated

That betwixt hot and cold, ſhe arbitrated

The others difference, being leſs did ceaſe

All ſtorms now laid, and they in perfect peace

A3 That A3v 6

That Fire ſhould firſt begin, the reſt conſent,

The nobleſt and moſt active Element.


What is my worth (both ye) and all men know,

In little time I can but little ſhow.

But what I am, let learned Grecians ſay,

What I can do well skil’d Mechanicks may:

The benefit all living by me find,

All ſorts of Artiſts here declare your mind.

What tool was ever fram’d, but by my might?

Ye Martiliſts, what weapons for your fight,

To try your valour by, but it muſt feel

My force? your ſword, & Gun, your Lance of ſteel,

Your Cannon’s bootleſs and your powder too

Without mine aid, (alas) what can they do:

The adverſe walls not ſhak’d, the Mines not blown,

And in deſpight the City keeps her own;

But I with one Granado or Petard

Set ope thoſe gates, that ’fore ſo ſtrong were bar’d.

Ye Husband-men, your Coulter’s made by me

Your Hooes your Mattocks, & what e’re you ſee

Subdue the Earth, and fit it for your Grain

That ſo it might in time requite your pain:

Though ſtrong limb’d Vulcan forg’d it by his skill

Ye Cooks, your Kitchen implements I frame

Your Spits, Pots, Jacks, what elſe I need not name.

Your A4r 7

Your dayly food I wholſome make, I warm

Your ſhrinking Limbs, which winter’s cold doth harm.

Ye Paracelſus too in vain’s your skill

In Chymiſtry unleſs I help you Still.

And you Philoſophers if e’re you made

A tranſmutation it was through mine aid.

Ye ſilver Smiths your Ure I do refine

What mingled lay with Earth I cauſe to ſhine;

But let me leave theſe things, my flame aſpires

To match on high with the Celeſtial fires:

The Sun an Orb of fire was held of old,

Our Sages new another tale have told:

But be he what they will yet his aſpect

A burning fiery heat we find reflect,

And of the ſelf ſame nature is with mine

Cold ſiſter Earth, no witneſs needs but thine:

How doth his warmth refreſh thy frozen back

And trim thee brave, in green, after thy black:

Both man and beaſt rejoyce at his approach,

And birds do ſing, to ſee his glittering Coach

And though nought, but Salamanders live in fire

And fly Pyrauſta call’d, all elſe expire,

Yet men and beaſt Aſtronomers will tell

Fixed in heavenly Conſtellations dwell,

My Planets of both Sexes whoſe degree

Poor Heathen judg’d worthy a Diety:

There’s Orion arm’d attended by his dog;

The Theban ſtout Alcides with his Club,

The valiant Perſeus, who Meduſa ſlew,

The horſe that kil’d Belerophon, then flew.

A4 My A4v 8

My Crab, My Scorpion, fiſhes you may ſee

The Maid with ballance, wain with horſes three,

The Ram, the Bull, the Lion, and the Beagle,

The Bear, the Goat, the Raven, and the Eagle,

The Crown the Whale, the Archer Bernice Hare,

The Hidra, Dolphin, Boys that water bear,

Nay more, then theſe, Rivers’ mongſt ſtars are found

Eridanus, where Phaeton was drown’d.

Their magnitude, and height, ſhould I recount

My ſtory to a volume would amount

Out of a multitude theſe few I touch.

Your wiſdome out of little gather much.

I’le here let paſs, my choler, cauſe of wars

and influence of divers of thoſe ſtars

When in Conjunction with the Sun do more

Augment his heat, which was too hot before.

The Summer ripening ſeaſon I do claim

And man from thirty unto fifty frame.

Of old when Sacrifices were Divine,

I of acceptance was the holy ſigne,

’Mong all my wonders which I might recount,

There’s none more ſtrange then Ætna’s Sulphry mount

The choaking flames, that from Veſuvius flew

The over curious ſecond Pliny flew,

And with the Aſhes that it ſometimes ſhed

Apulia’s ’jacent parts were covered.

And though I be a ſervant to each man

Yet by my force, maſter, my maſters can.

What famous Towns, to Cinders have I turn’d?

What laſting forts my kindled wrath hath burn’d?

The A5r 9

The ſtately Seats of might Kings by me

In confuſed heaps, of aſhes may you ſee.

Wher’s Ninu great wall’d Town, & Troy of old

Carthage, and hundred more in ſtories told

Which when they could not be o’recome by foes

The Army, through my help victorious roſe

And ſtately London, (our great Britain’s glory)

My raging flame did make a mournful ſtory,

But maugre all, that I, or foes could do

That Phoenix from her Bed is riſen New.

Old ſacred Zion, I demoliſh’d thee.

So great Diana’s Temple was by me,

And more then bruitiſh Sodom, for her luſt

With neigbouring Towns, I did conſume to duſt

What ſhall I ſay of Lightning and of Thunder

Which Kings & mighty ones amaze with wonder,

Which made a Cæſar, (Romes) the worlds proud head,

Fooliſh Caligula creep under’s bed.

Of Meteors, ignis fatuus and the reſt,

But to leave thoſe to th’wiſe, I judge it beſt.

The rich I oft makd poor, the ſtrong I maime,

Not ſparing Life when I can take the ſame;

And in a word the world I ſhall conſume

And all therein, at that great day of Doom;

Not before then, ſhall ceaſe my raging ire

And then becauſe no matter more for fire.

Now Siſters pray proceed each in your Courſe

As I, impart your uſefulneſs and force.

Earth A5v 10


The next in place Earth judg’d to be her due,

Siſter (quoth ſhee) I come not ſhort of you,

In wealth and uſe I do ſurpaſs you all,

And mother earth of old men did me call:

Such is my fruitfulneſs, an Epithite

Which none ere gave, or you could claim of right

Among my praiſes this I count not leaſt,

I am th’original of man and beaſt.

To tell what ſundry fruits my fat ſoil yields

In Vineyards, Gardens, Orchards & Corn-fields.

Their kinds, their taſts, their colors & their ſmells

Would ſo paſs time I could ſay nothing elſe:

The rich the poor, wiſe, fool, and every ſort

Of theſe ſo common things can make report.

To tell you of my countryes and my Regions,

Soon would they paſs not hundreds but legions:

My cities famous, rich and populous,

Whoſe numbers now are grown innumerous.

I have not time to think of every part,

Yet let me name my Grecia, ’tis my heart.

For learning arms and arts I love it well,

But chiefly ’cauſe the Muſes there did dwell.

Ile here skip ore my mountains reaching skyes,

Whether Pyrenean, or the Alpes, both lyes

On either ſide the country of the Gaules

Strong forts, from Spaniſh and Italian brawles.

And A6r 11

And huge great Taurus longer than the reſt,

Dividing great Arthree lettersflawed-reproductionia from the leaſt;

And Hemus whoſe ſteep ſides none foot upon,

But farewell all for dear mount Helicon.

And wondrous high Olimpus, of ſuch fame,

That heav’n it ſelf was oft call’d by that name.

Parnaſſus ſweet, I dote too much on thee,

Unleſs thou prove a better friend to me:

But Ile leap ore theſe hills, not touch a dale,

Nor will I ſtay, no not in Tempe Vale,

Ile here let go my Lions of Numius,

My Panthers and my Leopards of Libia,

The Behemoth and rare found Unicorn,

Poyſons ſure antidote lyes in his horn,

And my Hiæna (imitates mans voice)

Out of great numbers I might pick my choice,

Thouſands in woods & plains both wild & tame,

But here or there, I liſt now none to name:

No, though the fawning Dog did urge me ſore,

In his behalf to ſpeak a word the more,

Whoſe truſt and valour I might here commend;

But time’s too ſhort and precious ſo to ſpend.

But hark you wealthy merchants, who for prize

Send forth your well-man’d ſhips where ſun doth riſe,

After three years when men and meat is ſpent,

My rich Commodityes pay double rent.

Ye Galeniſts, my Drugs that come from thence,

Do cure your Patients, fill your purſe with pence;

Beſides the uſe of roots, of hearbs and plants,

That with leſs coſt near home ſupply your wants.

But A6v 1312

But Mariners, where got you ſhips and Sails,

And Oars to row, when both my Siſters ſails?

Your Tackling, Anchor, compaſs too is mine,

Which guides when fun nor moon nor stars do ſhine.

Built Cities, Monuments, call’d by your names,

Were thoſe compiled heaps of maſſy ſtones

That your ambition laid, ought but my bones?

Ye greedy miſers, who do dig for gold

Will not my goodly face your rage ſuffice

But you will ſee what in my bowels lyes?

And ye Artificers, all Trades and ſorts

My bounty calls you forth to make reports,

If ought you have, to uſe, to wear, to eat,

But what I freely yield upon your ſweat?

And Cholerick Siſter, thou for all thine ire

Well knowſt my fuel muſt maintain thy fire.

As I ingenuouſly with tanks confeſs,

My cold thy fruitfull heat doth crave no leſs:

But how my cold dry temper works upon

The melancholy Conſtitution;

How the autumnal ſeaſon I do ſway,

And how I force the grey-head to obey,

I ſhould here make a ſhort, yet true Narration,

But that thy method is mine imitation.

Now muſt I ſhew mine adverſe quality,

And how I oft work mans mortality:

He ſometimes finds, maugre his toiling pain

Thiſtles and thorns where he expected grain.

My A7r 13

My ſap to plants and trees I muſt not grant,

The vine, the olive, and the figtree want:

The Corn and Hay do fall before the’re mown.

And buds from fruitfull trees as ſoon as blown;

Then dearth prevails, that nature to ſuffice

The Mother on her tender infant flyes;

The husband knows no wife, nor father ſons,

But to all outrages their hunger runs:

Dreadfull examples ſoon I might produce,

But to ſuch Auditors ’twere of no uſe.

Again when Delvers dare in hope of gold

To ope thoſe veins of Mine, audacious bold:

While they thus in mine entrails love to dive,

Before they know, they are inter’d alive.

Y’affrighted wights appal’d, how do ye ſhake,

When once you feel me your foundation quake?

Becauſe in the Abbyſſe of my dark womb

Your cities and your ſelves I oft intomb:

O dreadfull Sepulcher! that this is true

Nathan and all his company well knew,

So did that Roman, far more ſtout then wiſe,

Bur’ing himſelf alive for honours prize.

And ſince fair Italy full ſadly knowes

What ſhe hath loſt by theſe remed’leſs woes.

Again what veins of poyſon in me lye,

Some kill outright, and ſome do ſtupifye:

Nay into herbs and plants it ſometimes creeps,

In heats & colds & gripes & drowzy ſleeps:

Thus I occaſion death to man and beaſt

When food they ſeek, & harm miſtruſt the leaſt.

Much A7v 14

Much might I ſay of the hot Libian ſand

Which riſe like tumbling Billows on the Land

Wherein Cambyſes Armie was o’rethrown

(but windy Siſter, ’twas when you have blown)

I’le ſay no more, but this thing add I muſt

Remember Sons, your mould is of my duſt

And after death whether interr’d or burn’d

As Earth at firſt ſo into Earth return’d.


Scarce Earth had done, but th’angry water mov’d

Siſter (quoth ſhe) it had full well behov’d

Among your boaſtings to have praiſed me

Cauſe of your fruitfulneſs as you ſhall ſee:

This your neglect ſhews your ingratitude

And how your ſubtilty, would men delude

Not one of us (all knows) that’s like to thee

Ever in craving, from the other three;

But thou art bound to me, above the reſt

Who am thy drink, thy blood, thy ſap and beſt:

If I withhold what art thou? dead dry lump

Thou bearſt nor graſs or plant nor tree nor ſtump

Thy extream thirſt is moiſtned by my love

With ſprings below, and ſhowres from above

Or elſe thy Sun burnt face and gaping chops

Complain to th’heavens if I withhold my drops

Thy Bear, thy Tyger, and thy Lion ſtout,

When I am gone, their fiercenes none needs doubt

Thy A8r 15

Thy Camel hath no ſtrength, thy Bull no force

Nor mettal’s found, in the couragious Horſe

Hinds leave their calves, the Elephant, the Fens

The wolves and ſavage beaſts, forſake their Dens

The lofty Eagle, and the Stork fly low,

The Peacock and the Oſtrich, ſhare in woe,

The Pine, the Cedar, yea, and Daphne’s Tree

Do ceaſe to flouriſh in this miſery.

Man wants his bread and wine, & pleaſant fruits

He knows, ſuch ſweets, lies not in Earths dry roots

Then ſeeks me out, in river and in well

His deadly malady I might expell:

If I ſupply, his heart and veins rejoyce,

If not, ſoon ends his life, as did his voyce;

That this is true, Earth thou canſt not deny

I call thine Egypt, this to verifie,

Which by my fatting Nile, doth yield ſuch ſtore

That ſhe can ſpare when nations round are poor

When I run low, and not o’reflow her brinks

To meet with want, each woful man be-thinks:

And ſuch I am, in Rivers, ſhowrs and ſprings

But what’s the wealth, that my rich Ocean brings

Fiſhes ſo numberleſs, I there do hold

If thou ſhouldſt buy, it would exhauſt thy gold:

There lives the oyly Whale, whom all men know

Such wealth but not ſuch like, Earth thou maiſt

The Dolphin loving muſick, Arians friend (ſhow

The witty Barbel, whoſe craft doth her commend

With thouſands more, which now I liſt not name

Thy ſilence of thy Beaſts doth cauſe the ſame

My A8v 16

My pearles that dangle at thy Darlings ears,

Not thou, but ſhel-fiſh yield, as Pliny clears.

Was ever gem ſo rich found in they trunk,

As Egypts wanton, Cleopatra drunk?

Or haſt thou any colour can come nigh

The Roman purple double Tirian Dye?

Which Cæſars Conſuls, Tribunes all adorn,

For it to ſearch my waves they thought no ſcorn.

Thy gallant rich perfuming Amber-greece

I lightly caſt aſhore as frothy fleece:

With rowling grains of pureſt maſſie gold,

Which Spains Americans do gladly hold.

Earth thou haſt not moe countrys vales & mounds

Then I have fountains, rivers lakes and ponds.

My ſundry ſeas, black, white and Adriatique,

Ionian, Baltique, and the vaſt Atlantique,

Ægean, Caſpian, golden rivers five,

Aſphaltis lake where nought remains alive:

But I ſhould go beyond thee in my boaſts,

If I ſhould name more ſeas then thou haſt Coaſts.

And be thy mountains n’er ſo high and ſteep,

I ſoon can match them with my ſeas as deep.

To ſpeak of kinds of waters I neglect,

My diverſe fountains and their ſtrange effect:

My wholſome bathes, together with their cures;

My water Syrens with their guilefull lures.

Th’uncertain cauſe of certain ebbs and flows,

Which wondring Ariſtotles wit n’er knows.

Nor will I ſpeak of waters made by art,

Which can to life reſtore a fainting heart.

Nor B1r 17

Nor fruitfull dews, nor drops diſtil’d from eyes,

Which pitty move and oft deceive the wiſe:

Nor yet of ſalt and ſugar, ſweet and ſmart,

Both when we liſt to water we convert.

Alas thy ſhips and oars could do no good

Did they but want my Ocean and my flood.

The wary merchant on his weary beaſt

Tranſfers his goods from ſouth to north and eaſt,

Unleſs I eaſe his toil, and do tranſport

The wealthy fraight unto his wiſhed port:

Theſe be my benefits, which may ſuffice:

I now muſt ſhew what ill there in me lies.

The flegmy Conſtitution I uphold,

All humors, tumors which are bred of cold:

O’re childhood and ore winter I bear ſway,

And Luna for my Regent I obey.

As I with ſhowers oft times refreſh the earth,

So oft in my exceſs I cauſe a dearth,

And with abundant wet ſo cool the ground,

By adding cold to cold no fruit proves ſound.

The Farmer and the Graſier do complain

Of rotten ſheep, lean kine, and mildew’d grain.

And with my waſting floods and roaring torrent,

Their cattel hay and corn I ſweep down current.

Nay many times my Ocean breaks his bounds,

And with aſtoniſhment the world confounds,

And ſwallows Countryes up, n’er ſeen again,

And that an iſland makes which once was Main:

Thus Britain fair (tis thought) was cut from France

Scicily from Italy by the like chance,

B And B1v 18

And but one land was Africa and Spain

Untill proud Gibraltar did make them twain.

Some ſay I ſwallow’d up (ſure tis a notion)

A mighty country in th’ Atlantique Ocean.

I need not ſay much of my hail and ſnow,

My ice and extream cold, which all men know,

Whereof the firſt ſo ominous I rain’d,

That Iſraels enemies therewith were brain’d:

And of my chilling ſnows ſuch plenty be

That Caucaſus high mounts are ſeldome free.

Mine ice doth glaze Europes great rivers o’re,

Till ſun releaſe, their ſhips can ſail no more.

All know that inundations I have made,

Wherein not men, but mountains ſeem’d to wade,

As when Achaia, all under water ſtood,

That for two hundred years it n’er prov’d good.

Deucalions great Deluge with many moe,

But theſe are trifles to the flood of Noe,

Then wholly periſh’d Earths ignoble race,

And to this day impairs her beauteous face,

That after times ſhapproximately two lettersflawed-reproduction never feel like woe,

Her confirm’d ſons behold my colour’d bow.

Much might I ſay of wracks, but that Ile ſpare,

And now give place unto our Siſter Air,

Air. B2r 19


Content (quoth Air) to ſpeak the laſt of you,

Yet am not ignorant firſt was my due:

I do ſuppoſe you’l yield without controul

I am the breath of every living ſoul.

Mortals, what one of you that loves not me

Abundantly more then my Siſters three?

And though you love Fire, Earth and Water well

Yet Air beyond all theſe you know t’excell.

I ask the man condemn’d, that’s neer his death,

How gladly ſhould his gold purchaſe his breath,

And all the wealth that ever earth did give,

How freely ſhould it go ſo he might live:

No earth, thy witching traſh were all but vain,

If my pure air thy ſons did not ſuſtain.

The famiſh’d thirſty man that craves ſupply,

His moving reaſon is, give leaſt I dye,

So loth he is to go though nature’s ſpent

To bid adieu to his dear Element.

Nay what are words which do reveal the mind,

Speak who or what they will they are but wind.

Your drums your trumpets & your organs found,

What is’t but forced air which doth rebound,

And ſuch are ecchoes and report of th’ gun

That tells afar th’exploit which it hath done.

Your Songs and pleaſant tunes they are the ſame,

And ſo’s the notes which Nightingales do frame.

B2 Ye B2v 20

Ye forging Smiths, if bellows once were gone

Your red hot work more coldly would go on.

Ye Mariners, tis I that fill your fails

And ſpeed you to your port with wiſhed gales.

When burning heat doth cauſe you faint, I cool,

And when I ſmile, your ocean’s like a pool.

I help to ripe the corn, I turn the mill,

And with my ſelf I every Vacuum fill

the ruddy ſweet ſanguine is like to air.

And youth and ſpring, Sages to me compare,

My moiſt hot nature is ſo purely thin,

No place ſo ſubtily made but I get in.

I grow more pure and pure as I mount higher,

And when I’m throughly rarifi’d turn fire:

So when I am condens’d, I turn to water,

Which may be done by holding down my vapour.

Thus I another body can aſſume,

And in a trice my own nature reſume.

Some for this cauſe of late have been ſo bold

Me for no Element longer to hold,

Let ſuch ſuſpend their thoughts, and ſilent be,

For all Philoſophers make one of me:

And what thoſe Sages either ſpake or writ

Is more authentick then our modern wit.

Next of my fowles ſuch multitudes there are,

Earths beaſts and waters fiſh ſcarce can compare.

Th’Oſtrich with her plumes, th’Eagle with her eyn

The Phænix too (if any be) are mine,

The ſtork, the crane, the partridg, and the pheſant

The Thruſh, the wren, the lark a prey to ’th’ peſant.

With B3r 21

With thouſands more which now I may omit

Without impeachment to my tale or wit.

As my freſh air preſerves all things in life,

So when corrupt, mortality is rife:

Then Fevers, Purples, Pox and Peſtilence,

With divers moe work deadly conſequence:

Whereof ſuch multitudes have di’d and fled,

The living ſcarce had power to bury dead;

Yea ſo contagious countryes have we known

That birds have not ’ſcapt death as they have flown

Of murrain, cattle numberleſs did fall,

Men fear’d deſtruction epidemical.

Then of my tempeſts felt at ſea and land,

Which neither ſhips nor houſes could withſtand.

What wofull wracks I’ve made may well appear,

If nought were known but that before Algere,

Where famous Charles the fifth more loſs ſuſtaind

Then in his long hot war which Millain gain’d.

Again what furious ſtorms and Hurricanoes

Know weſtern Iſles, as Chriſtophers, Barbadoes,

Where neither houſes, trees nor plants I ſpare;

But ſome fall down, and ſome fly up with air.

Earthquakes ſo hurtfull, and ſo fear’d of all,

Impriſon’d I, amdthe original.

Then what prodigious ſights I ſometimes ſhow,

As battles pitcht in th’air, as countryes know,

Their joyning fighting, forcing and retreat,

That earth appears in heaven, O wonder great!

Sometimes red flaming ſwords and blazing ſtars.

Portentous ſigns of famines, plagues and wars.

B3 Which B3v 22

Which make the mighty Monarchs fear their fates

By death or great mutation of their States.

I have ſaid leſs then did my Siſters three,

But what’s their wrath or force, the ſame’s in me.

To adde to all I’ve ſaid was my intent,

But dare not go beyond my Element.

Of the four Humours in Mans Conſtitution.

The former four now ending their diſcourſe,

Ceaſing to vaunt their good, or threat their force,

Lo other four ſtep up, creave leave to ſhow

The native qualityes that from them flow:

But firſt they wiſely ſhew’d their high deſcent,

Each eldeſt daughter to each Element.

Choler was own’d by fire, and Blood by air,

Earth knew her black ſwarth child, water her fair:

All having made obeyſance to each Mother,

Had leave to ſpeak, ſucceeding one the other:

But ’mongſt themſelves they were at variance,

Which of the four ſhould have predominance.

Choler firſt hotly claim’d right by her mother,

Who had precedency of all the other:

But Sanguine did diſdain what ſhe requir’d,

Pleading her ſelf was moſt of all deſir’d.

Proud Melancholy more envious then the reſt,

The ſecond, third or laſt could not digeſt.

She B4r 23

She was the ſilenteſt of all the four,

Her wiſdom ſpake not much, but thought the more

Mild Flegme did not conteſt for chiefeſt place,

Only ſhe crav’d to have a vacant ſpace.

Well thus they parle and chide; but to be brief,

Or will they, nill they, Choler will be chief.

They ſeing her impetuoſity

At preſent yielded to neceſſity.


To ſhew my high deſcent and pedegree,

Your ſelves would judge but vain prolixity:

It is acknowledged from whence I came,

It ſhall ſuffice to ſhew you what I am,

My ſelf and mother one, as you ſhall ſee,

But ſhee in greater, I in leſs degree.

We both once Maſculines, the world doth know,

Now Feminines awhile, for love we owe

Unto your Siſterhood, which makes us render

Our noble ſelves in a leſs noble gender.

Though under Fire we comprehend all heat,

Yet man for Choler is the proper ſeat:

I in his heart erect my regal throne,

Where Monarch like I play and ſway alone.

Yet many times unto my great diſgrace

One of your ſelves are my Compeers in place,

Where if your rule prove once predominant,

The man proves boyiſh, ſottiſh, ignorant:

B4 But B4v 24

But if you yield ſubſervience unto me,

I make a man, a man in th’highſt degree:

Be he a ſouldier, I more fence his heart

Then iron Corſlet ’gainſt a ſword or dart.

What makes him face his foe without appal,

To ſtorm a breach, or ſcale a city wall,

In dangers to account himſelf more ſure

Then timerous Hares whom Caſtles do immure?

Have you not heard of worthyes, Demi-Gods?

Twixt them and others what is’t makes the odds

But valour? whence comes that? from none of you,

Nay milkſops at ſuch brunts you look but blew.

Here’s ſiſter ruddy, worth the other two,

Who much will talk, but little dares ſhe do,

Unleſs to Court and claw, to dice and drink,

And there ſhe will out-bid us all, I think,

She loves a fiddle better then a drum,

A Chamber well, in field ſhe dares not come,

She’l ride a horſe as bravely as the beſt,

And break a ſtaff, provided be in jeſt;

But ſhuns to look on wounds, & blood that’s ſpilt,

She loves her ſword only becauſe its gilt.

Then here’s our ſad black Siſter, worſe then you.

She’l neither ſay ſhe will, nor will ſhe doe;

But peeviſh Malecontent, muſing ſits,

And by miſpriſſions like to looſe her witts:

If great perſwaſions cauſe her meet her foe,

In her dull reſolution ſhe’s ſo ſlow,

To march her pace to ſome is greater pain

Then by a quick encounter to be ſlain.

But B5r 25

But be ſhe beaten, ſhe’l not run away,

She’l firſt adviſe if’t be not beſt to ſtay.

Now let’s give cold white ſiſter flegme her right,

So loving unto all ſhe ſcorns to fight:

If any threaten her, ſhe’l in a trice

Convert from water to congealed ice:

Her teeth will chatter dead and wan’s her face,

And ’fore ſhe be aſſaulted, quits the place.

She dares not challeng, if I ſpeak amiſs,

Nor hath ſhe wit or heat to bluſh at this.

Here’s three of you all ſee now what you are,

Then yield to me preheminence in war.

Again who fits for learning, ſcience, arts?

Who rarifies the intellectual parts:

From whence fine ſpirits flow and witty notions:

But tis not from our dull, ſlow ſiſters motions:

Nor ſiſter ſanguine, from thy moderate heat,

Poor ſp irits the Liver breeds, which is thy ſeat.

What comes from thence, my heat refines the ſame

And through the arteries ſends it o’re the frame:

the vital ſpirits they’re call’d and well they may

For when they fail, man turns unto his clay.

The animal I claim as well as theſe,

The nerves, ſhould I not warm, ſoon would they freeze

But flegme her ſelf is now provok’d at this

She thinks I never ſhot ſo far amiſs.

But know ’ts a fooliſh brain that wanteth heat.

My abſence proves it plain, her wit then flyes

Out at her noſe, or melteth at her eyes.

Oh B5v 26

Oh who would miſs this influence of thine

To be diſtill’d, a drop on every Line?

Alas, thou haſt no Spirits thy Company

Will ſeed a dropſy, or a Tympany,

The Palſy, Gout, or Cramp, or ſome ſuch dolour:

Thou waſt not made, for Souldier or for Scholar;

Of greazy paunch, and bloated cheeks go vaunt,

But a good head from theſe are diſſonant.

But Melancholy, would’ſt have this glory thine,

Thou ſayſt thy wits are ſtaid, ſubtil and fine,

’Tis true, when I am Midwife to thy birth

Thy ſelf’s as dull, as is thy mother Earth:

Thou canſt not claim the liver, head nor heart

Yet haſt the Seat aſſign’d, a goodly part

The ſinke of all us three, the hateful Spleen

Of that black Region, natnure made thee Queen;

Where pain and ſore obſtruction thou doſt work,

Where envy, malice, thy Companions lurk.

If once thou’rt great, what follows thereupon

But bodies waſting, and deſtruction?

So baſe thou art, that baſer cannot be,

Th’ excrement aduſtion of me.

But I am weary to dilate your ſhame,

Nor is’t my pleaſure thus to blur your name,

Only to raiſe my honour to the Skies,

As objects beſt appear by contraries.

But Arms and Arts I claim, and higher things,

The princely qualities befitting Kings,

Whoſe profound heads I line with policies,

They’r held for Oracles, they are ſo wiſe,

Their B6r 27

Their wrathful looks are death their words are laws

Their Courage it foe, friend, and Subject awes;

But one of you, would make a worthy King

Like our ſixth Henry (that ſame virtuous thing)

That when a Varlet ſtruck him o’re the ſide,

Forſooth you are to blame, he grave reply’d.

Take Choler from a Prince, what is he more

Then a dead Lion, by Beaſts triumph’d o’re.

Again you know, how I act every part

By th’influence I ſtill ſend from the heart:

It’s nor your Muſcles nerves, nor this nor that

Do’s ought without my lively heat, that’s flat:

Nay th’ ſtomack magazine to all the reſt

Without my boyling heat cannot digeſt:

And yet to make my greatneſs, ſtill more great

What differences, the Sex? but only heat.

And one thing more, to cloſe up my narration

Of all that lives, I cauſe the propagation.

I have been ſparings what I might have ſaid

I love no boaſting that’s but Childrens trade.

To what you now ſhall ſay I will attend,

And to your weakneſs gently condeſcend.


Good Siſters give me leave as is my place

To vent my grief, and wipe off my diſgrace:

Your ſelves may plead your wrongs are no three lettersflawed-reproductiontleſs

Your patience more then mine, I muſt confeſs.

Did B6v 28

Did ever ſober tongue ſuch language ſpeak.

Or honeſty ſuch tyes unfriendly break?

Doſt know thy ſelf ſo well us ſo amiſs?

Is’t arrogance or folly cauſeth this?

Ile only ſhew the wrong thou’ſt done to me,

Then let my ſiſters right their injury.

To pay with railings is not mine intent,

But to evince the truth by Argument

I will analyſe this thy proud relation

So full of boaſting and prevarication,

Thy fooliſh incongruityes Ile ſhow,

So walk thee till thou’rt cold, then let thee go.

There is no Souldier but thy ſelf (thou ſayeſt,)

No valour upon Earth, but what thou haſt

Thy ſilly provocations I deſpiſe,

And leave’t to all to judge, where valour lies

No pattern, nor no pattron will I bring

But David, Judah’s moſt heroick King,

Whoſe glorious deeds in Arms the world can tell,

A roſie cheek Muſitian thou know’ſt well;

He knew well how to handle Sword and Harp,

And how to ſtrike full ſweet, as well as ſharp,

Thou laugh’ſt at me for loving merriment,

And ſcorn’ſt all Knightly ſports at Turnament.

Thou ſayſt I love my Sword, becauſe it’s gilt,

But know, I love the Blade, more then the Hilt,

Yet do abhor ſuch temerarious deeds,

As thy unbridled barbarous Choler breeds:

Thy rudeneſs counts good manners vanity,

And real Complements baſe flattery.

For B7r 29

For drink, which of us twain like it the beſt,

Ile go no further then thy noſe for teſt:

Thy other ſcoffs not worth of reply

Shall vaniſh as of no validity:

Of thy black Calumnies this is but part,

But now Ile ſhew what ſouldier thou art.

And though thou ’ſt us’d me with opprobrious ſpight

My ingenuity muſt give thee right.

Thy choler is but rage when tis moſt pure,

But uſefull when a mixture can endure;

As with thy mother fire, ſo tis with thee,

The beſt of all the four when they agree:

But let her leave the reſt, then I preſume

Both them and all things elſe ſhe would conſume.

Whilſt us for thine aſſociates thou tak’ſt,

A Souldier moſt compleat in all points mak’ſt:

But when thou ſcorn’ſt to take the help we lend,

Thou art a Fury or infernal Fiend.

Witneſs the execrable deeds thouſt done,

Nor ſparing Sex nor Age, nor Sire nor Son;

To ſatisfie thy pride and cruelty,

Thou oft haſt broke bounds of Humanity,

Nay ſhould I tell, thou would’ſt count me no blab,

How often for the lye, thou’ſt given the ſtab.

To take the wall’s a ſin of ſo high rate,

That nought but death the ſame may expiate,

To croſs thy will, a challenge doth deſerve

So ſhed’ſt that blood, thou’rt bounded to preſerve

Wilt though this valour, Courage, Manhood call:

No, know ’tis pride moſt diabolical.

If B7v 30

If murthers be thy glory tis no leſs,

Ile not envy thy feats, nor happineſs:

But if infitting time and place ’gainſt foes

For countreys good thy life thou dar’ſt expoſe,

Be dangers n’er ſo high, and courage great,

Ile praiſe that proweſs, fury, Choler, heat:

But ſuch thou never art when all alone,

Yet ſuch when we all four are joyn’d in one.

And when ſuch thou art, even ſuch are we,

The friendly Coadjutors ſtill of thee

Nextly the Spirits thou doſt wholly claim,

Which nat’ral, vital, animal we name:

To play Philoſopher I have no liſt,

Nor yet Phyſitian, nor Anatomiſt,

For acting theſe, I have no will nor Art,

Yet ſhall with Equity, give thee thy part

For natural, thou doſt not much conteſt;

For there is none (thou ſayſt) if ſome not beſt

That there are ſome and beſt I dare averre

Of greateſt uſe if reaſon do not erre:

Wat is there living, which do’nt firſt derive

His Life now Animal, from vegetive:

If thou give’ſt life, I give the nouriſhment,

Thine without mine, is not, ’tis evident:

But I without thy help, can give a growth

As plants trees and ſmall Embryon know’th

And if vital Spirits, do flow from thee

I am as ſure, the natural, from me:

Be thine the nobler, whihc I grant, yet mine

Shall juſtly claim priority of thine.

If B8r 31

I am the fountain which thy Ciſtern fills

Through warm blew Conduits of my venial rills:

What hath the heart but what’s ſent from the liver

If thou’rt the taker, I muſt be the giver.

Then never boaſt of what thou doſt receive:

For of ſuch glory I ſhall thee bereave.

But why the he art ſhould be uſurp’d by thee,

I muſt confeſs ſeems ſomething ſtrange to me:

The ſpirits through thy heat made perfect are,

But the Materials none of thine, that’s clear.

Their wondrous mixture is of blood and air,

The firſt my ſelf, ſecond my mother fair.

But Ile not force retorts, nor do thee wrong,

Thy fi’ry yellow froth is mixt among,

Challeng not all, ’cauſe part we do allow;

Thou knowſt I’ve there to do as well as thou:

But thou wilt ſay I deal unequally,

Their lives the iraſcible faculty,

Which without all diſpute, is Cholers own;

Beſides the vehement heat, only there known

Can be imputed, unto none but Fire

Which is thy ſelf, thy Mother and thy Sire

That this is true, I eaſily can aſſert

If ſtill you take along my Aliment,

And let me be your partner whihc is due,

So ſhall I give the dignity to you

Again, Stomacks Concotion thou doſt claim,

But by what right, nor do’ſt, nor canſt thou name

Unleſs as heat, it be thy faculty,

And ſo thou callengeſt her property.

The B8v 32

The help ſhe needs, the loving liver lends,

Who th’ benefit o’th’ whole ever intends

To meddle further I ſhall be but ſhent,

Th’reſt to our Siſters is more pertinent;

Your ſlanders thus refuted takes no place,

Nor what you’ve ſaid, doth argue my diſgrace,

Now through your leaves, ſome little time I’l ſpend

My worth in humble manner to commend

This, hot, moiſt nutritie humour of mine

When ’tis untaint, pure, and moſt genuine

Shall chiefly take theplae, as is my due

Without the leaſt indignity to you.

Of all your qualities I do partake,

And what you ſingle are, the whole I make

Your hot, moiſt, cold, dry natures are but four,

I moderately am all, what need I more;

As thus, if hot then dry, if moiſt then cold,

If this you cann’t diſprove, then all Ihold

My virtues hid, I’ve let you dimly ſee

My ſweet Complection proves the verity.

This Scarlet die’s a badge of what’s within

Ine touch thereof, ſo beautifies the skin:

Nay, could I be, from all your tangs but pure

Mans life to boundleſs Time might ſtill endure.

But here one thruſts her heat, wher’ts not requir’d

So ſuddenly, the body all is fired,

And of the calme ſweet temper quite bereft,

Which makes the Manſion, by the Soul ſoon left.

So Melancholy ſeizes on a man

With her unchearful viſsage, ſwarth and wan,

The C1r 33

The body dryes, the mind ſublime doth ſmother,

And turns him to the womb of’s earthy mother:

And flegm likewiſe can ſhew her cruel art,

With cold diſtempers to pain every part:

The lungs ſhe rots, the body wears away,

As if ſhe’d leave no fleſh to turn to clay,

Her languiſhing diſeaſes, though not quick

At length demoliſhes the Faberick,

All to prevent, this curious care I take,

In th’ laſt concotion ſegretation make

Of all the perverſe humours from mine own,

The bitter choler moſt malignant known

I turn into his Cell cloſe by my ſide

The Melancholy to the Spleen t’abide:

Likewiſe the whey, ſome uſe I in the veins,

The over plus I ſend unto the reins:

But yet for all my toil, my care and skill,

Its doom’d by an irrevocable will

That my intents ſhould meet with interruption,

That mortal man might turn to his corruption.

I might here ſhew the nobleneſs of mind

Of ſuch as to the ſanguine are inclin’d,

They’re liberal, pleaſant, kind and courteous,

And like the Liver all benignious.

For arts adn ſciences they are the fitteſt,

And maugre Choler ſtill they are the wittieſt:

With an ingenious working Phantaſie,

A moſt voluminous large Memory,

And nothing wanting but Solidity.

C But C1v 34

But why alas, thus tedious ſhould I be,

Thouſand examples you may daily ſee.

If time I have transgreſt, and been too long,

Yet could not be more brief without much wrong;

I’ve ſcarce wip’d off the ſpots proud choler caſt,

Such venome likes in words, though but a blaſt:

No braggs i’ve us’d, to you I dare appeal,

If modeſty my worth do not conceal.

I’ve us’d no bittererneſs, nor taxt your name,

As I to you, to me do ye the ſame.


He that with two Aſſailnts hath to do,

Had need be armed well and active too.

Eſpecially when friendſhip is pretended,

That blow’s moſt deadly where it is intended.

Though choler rage and rail, I’le not do ſo,

The tongue’s no weapon to aſſault a foe.

But ſith we fight with words, we might be kind

To ſpare our ſelves and beat the whiſtling wind,

Fair roſie ſiſter, ſo might’ſt thou ſcape free;

I’le flatter for a time as thou didſt me:

But when the firſt offender I have laid,

Thy ſoothing girds ſhall fully be repaid.

But Choler be thou coold or chaf’d, I’le venter,

And in contentions liſts now juſtly enter.

What mov’d thee thus to vilifie my name,

Not paſt all reaſon, but in truth all ſhame:

Thy C2r 35

Thy fiery ſpirit ſhall bear away this prize,

To play ſuch ſpurious pranks I am too wiſe:

If in a Souldier raſhneſs be ſo precious,

Know in a General tis moſt pernicious.

Nature doth teach to ſhield the head from harm,

The blow that’s aim’d thereat is latcht by th’arm.

When in Batalia my foes I face

I then command proud Choler ſtand thy place,

To uſe thy ſword, thy courage and thy art

There to defend my ſelf, thy better part.

This warineſs count not for cowardize,

He is not truly valiant that’s not wiſe.

It’s no leſs glory to defend a town,

Then by aſſault to gain one not our own;

And if Marcellus bold be call’d Romes ſword,

Wiſe Fabius is her buckler all accord:

And if thy haſt my ſlowneſs ſhould not temper,

’Twere but a mad irregular diſtemper;

Enough of that by our ſiſters heretofore,

Ile come to that which ſomewhat more

Of learning, policy thou wouldſt bereave me,

But ’s not thine ignorance ſhall thus deceive me:

What greater Clark or Politician lives,

Then he whoſe prain a touch my humour gives?

What is too hot my coldneſs doth abate,

What’s diffluent I do conſolidate.

If I be partial judg’d or thought to erre,

The melancholy ſnake ſhall it aver,

Whoſe cold dry head more ſubtilty doth yield,

Then all the huge beaſts of the fertile field.

C2 Again C2v 36

Again thou doſt confine me to the ſpleen,

As of that only part I were the Queen

Let me as well make thy precincts the Gall,

So priſon thee within that bladder ſmall.

Reduce the man to’s principles, then ſee

If I have not more part then all you three:

What is within, without, of theirs or thine,

Yet time and age ſhall ſoon declare it mine.

When death doth ſeize the man your ſtock is loſt,

When your poor bankrupts prove then have I moſt.

You’l ſay here none ſhall e’re diſturb my right

You high born from that lump then take your flight

Then who’s mans friend, when life & all forſakes?

His Mother mine, him to her womb retakes:

Thus he is ours, his portion is the grave,

But while he lives, I’le ſhew what part I have:

And firſt the firm dry bones I juſtly claim,

The ſtrong foundation of the ſtately frame:

Likewiſe the uſefull Spleen, though not the beſt,

Yet is a bowl call’d well as the reſt:

The liver, Stomack, owe their thanks of right,

The firſt it drains, of th’laſt quicks appetite.

Laughter (tho thou ſay malice) flows from hence,

Theſe two in one cannot have reſidence.

But thou moſt groſly doſt miſtake to think

The Spleen for all you three was made a ſink,

Of all thereſt thou’ſt nothing there to do,

But if thou haſt, that malice is from you.

Again you often touch my ſwarthy hue,

That black is black, and I am black tis true;

But C3r 37

But yet more comely far Idare avow,

Th an is thy torrid noſe or brazen brow.

But that which ſhews how hight your ſpight is bent

Is charging me to be thy excrement:

Thy loathſome impution I defie,

So plain a ſlander needeth no reply.

When by thy heat thou’ſt bak’d thy ſelf to cruſty

And ſo art call’d black Choler or aduſt,

Thou witleſs thinkſt that I am thy excretion,

So mean thou art in Art as in diſcretion:

But by your leave I’le let your greatneſs ſee

What Officer thou art to us all three.

The Kitchin Drudge, the cleanſer of the ſingke

That caſsts out all that man e’re eats or drinks:

If any doubt the truth whence this ſhould come,

Shew them thy paſſage to th’Duodenum;

Thy biting quality ſtill irritates,

Till filth and thee nature exonerates:

If there thou’rt ſtopt, to th’Liver thou turn’ſt in,

And thence with jaundies ſaffrons all the skin.

No further time Ile ſpend in confutation,

I truſt I’vev clear’d your ſlanderous imputation.

I now ſpeak unto all, no more to one,

Pray hear, admire and learn inſtruction.

My virtues yours ſurpaſs without compare,

The firſt my conſtancy that jewel rare:

Choler’s too raſh this golden gift to hold,

And Sanguine is more fickle manifold,

Here, there her reſtleſs thoughts do ever fly,

Conſtand in nothng but unconſtancy.

C3 And C3v 38

And what Flegme is, we know, like to her mother,

Unſtable is the one, and ſo the other;

With me is noble patience alſo found,

Impatient Choler loveth not the ſound.

What ſsanguine is, ſhe doth not heed nor care,

Now up, now down, tranſported like the Air:

Flegme’s patient becauſe her nature’s tame,

But I, by virtue do acquire the ſame.

My Temperance, Chaſtity is eminent,

But theſe with you, are ſeldome reſident;

Now could I ſtain my ruddy Siſters face

With deeper red, to ſhew you her diſgrace,

But rather I with ſilence vaile her ſhame

Then cauſer her bluſh, while I relate the ſame.

Nor are ye free from this inormity,

Although ſhe bear the greateſt obloquie,

My prudence, judgement, I might now reveal

But wiſdom ’tis my wiſdome to conceal.

Unto diſeaſes not inclin’d as you,

Nor cold, nor hot, Ague nor Pluriſie,

Nor Cough, nor Quinſey, nor the burning Feaver,

I rarely feel to act his fierce endeavour;

My ſickneſs in conceit chiefly doth lye,

What I imagine that’s my malady.

Chymeraes ſtrange are in my phantaſy,

And things that neer were, nor ſhall I ſee

I love not talk, Reaſon lies not in length,

Nor multitude of words argues our ſtrength;

I’ve done pray ſiſter Flegme proceed in Courſe,

We ſhall expect much ſound, but little force.

Flegme. C4r 39


Patient I am, patient i’d need to be,

To bear with the injutious taunts of three,

Though wit I want, and agner I have leſs,

Enough of both, my wrongs now to expreſs

I’ve not forgot, how bitter Choler ſpake

Nor how her gaul on me ſhe cauſeleſs brake;

Nor wonder ’twas for hatred there’s not ſmall,

Where oppoſition is Diametrical.

To what is Truth I freely will aſſent,

Although my Name do ſuffer detriment,

What’s ſlanderous repell, deoubtful diſpute,

And when I’ve nothing left to ſay be mute.

Valour I want no Souldier am ’tis true,

I’le leave that manly Property to you;

I love no thundring guns nor bloody wars,

My poliſh’d Skin was not ordain’d for Skarrs.

But though the pitched field I’ve ever fled,

At home the Conqueeerours have conquered.

Nay, I could tell you what’s more true then meet,

That Kings have laid their Scepters at my feet;

When Siſter ſsanguine paints my Ivory face:

The Monarchs bend and ſue, but for my grace

My lilly white when joyned with her red,

Princes hath ſlav’d, and Captains captived.

Country with Country, Greece with Aſia fights

Sixty nine Princes, all ſtout Hero Knights.

C4 Under C4v 40

Under Troys walls ten years will wear away,

Rather than looſe one beauteous Helena.

But ’twere as vain, to prove this truth of mine

As at noon day, to tell the Sun doth ſhine.

Next difference that ’twixt us twain doth I lye

Who doth poſſeſs the brain, or thou or I?

Shame forc’d the ſay, the matter that was mine,

But the Spirits by which it acts are thine

Thou ſpeakeſt Truth, and Ican ſay no leſs,

Thy heat doth much, I candidly confeſs;

Yet without oſtentation I may ſay,

I do as much for thee another way:

And though I grant, thou art my helper here,

No debtor I becauſe it’s paid elſe where.

With all your flouriſhes, now Siſters three

Who is’t that dare, or can, compare with me,

My excellencies are ſo great, ſo many,

I am confounded; fore I ſpeak of any

The brain’s the nobleſt member all allow,

Its form and Scituations will avow,

Its Ventricles, Membranes and wondrous net,

Galen, Hippocrates drive to a ſet;

That Divine Ofſpring the immortal Soul

Though it in all, and every part be whole,

Within this ſtatelly place of eminence,

Doth doubtleſs keep its mighty reſidence.

And ſurely, the Soul ſenſitive here lives,

Which life and motion to each creature gives,

The Conjugation of the parts, to th’braine

Doth ſew, hence flow the pow’rs whihc they retain

Within C5r 41

Within this high Built Citadel, doth lye

The Reaſon, fancy, and the memory.

The faculty of ſpeech doth here abide,

The Spirits animal from hence do ſlide:

The five moſt noble Senſes here do dwell;

Of three it’s hard to ſay, which doth excell.

This point now to diſcuſs ’longs not to me,

I’le touch the ſigh great’ſt wonder of the three;

The optick Nerve Coats, humours all are mine,

The watry, glaſſsie and the Chryſtaline;

O mixture ſtrange! O colour colourleſs,

Thy perfect temperament who can expreſs:

He was no fool who thought the ſoul lay there,

Whence her affections paſſions ſpeak ſo clear.

O good, O bad, O true, O traiterous eyes

What wonderments within your Balls there lyes,

Of all the Senſes ſight ſhall be the Queen,

Yeeet ſome may wiſh, O had mine eyes ne’re ſeen.

Mine, likewiſe iss the marrow, of the back

Which runs through all thee Spondles of the rack,

It is the ſubſtitute o’th royal brain,

All Nerves, except ſeven pair, to it retain.

And the ſtrong Ligaments from hence ariſe,

Which joynt to joynt, the intire body tyes.

Some other parts there iſſue from the Braine,

Whoſe worth and uſe to tell I muſt refrain:

Some curious learned Crooke, may theſe reveal

But modeſty, hath charg’d me to conceal

Here’s my Epitome of excellence:

For what’s the Brains is mine by Conſequence.

A C5v 42

A fooliſh brain (quoth Choler) wanting heat

But a mad one ſay I, where ’tis too great,

Phrenſie’s worſe then folly, one would more glad

With a tame fool converſe then with a mad;

For learning the my brain is not the fitteſt,

Nor will I yield that Choller is the wittieſt.

Thy judgement is unſafe, thy fancy little,

For memory the ſand is not more brittle;

Again, none’s fit for Kingly ſtate but thou,

If Tyrants be the beſt, Ile it allow:

But if love be as requiſite as fear,

Then thou and I muſt make a mixture here.

Well to be brieft, I hope now Cholers laid,

And I’le paſs by what Siſter ſanguine ſaid.

To Melancholy Ile make no reply,

The worſt ſhe ſaid was inſtability,

And too muhc talk both whihc I here confeſs

A warning good, hereafter I’le ſay leſs.

Let’s now be friends; its time our ſpight were ſpent,

Leſt we too late this raſhneſs do repent,

Such premiſes will force a ſad concluſion,

Unleſs we agree, all falls into confuſion.

Let ſanguine with her hoth hand choler hold,

To take her moiſt my moiſture will be bold:

My cold, cold melancholdy hand ſhall claſp;

Her dry, dry Chollers other hand ſhall graſp.

Two hot two moiſt, two cold, two dry here be,

A golden Ring the Poſey Unity..

Nor jarrs nor ſcoffs, let none hereafter ſee,

But all admire our perfect Amity

Nor C6r 43

Nor be diſcern’d here’s water, earth, air, fire,

But here a compact body, whole intire.

This loving counſel pleas’d them all ſo well

That flegm was judg’d for kindneſs to excell.

Of the four Ages of Man.

Lo now four other act upon the ſtage,

Childhood and Youth the Manly & Old age;

The firſt ſon unto flegm, Grand-child to water,

Unſtable, ſupple, cold and moiſt’s his nature.

The ſecond frolick, claims his pedegree

From blood and air, for hot and moiſt is he.

The third of fire and Choler is composd

Vindicative and quarrelſome diſpos’d.

The laſt of earth, and heavy melancholy,

Solid, hating all lightneſs and all folly.

Childhood was cloth’d in white & green to ſhow

His ſpring was intermixed with ſome ſnow:

Upon his head nature a Garland ſet

Of Primroſe, Daizy & the Violet.

Such C6v 44

Such cold mean flowrs the ſpring puts forth betime

Before the ſun hath throughly heat the clime.

His Hobby ſtriding did not ride but run,

And in his hand an hour-glaſs new begun,

In danger every moment of a fall,

And when tis broke then ends his life and all:

But if he hold till it have run its laſt,

Then may he live out threeſcore years or paſt.

Next Youth came up in gorgeous attire,

(As that fond age doth moſt of all deſire)

His Suit of Crimſon and his ſcarfe of green,

His pride in’s countenance was quickly ſeen,

Garland of roſes, pinks and gilli-flowers

Seemed on’s head to grow bedeew’d with ſhowers:

His face as freſh as is Aurora fair,

When bluſhing ſhe firſt ’gins to light the air.

No wooden horſe, but one of mettal try’d,

He ſeems to fly or ſwim, and not to ride.

Then prancing on the ſtage, about he wheels,

But as he went death waited at his heels.

The next came up in a much graver ſort,

As one that cared for a good report,

His ſword by’s ſide, and choler in his eyes,

But neigher us’d as yet, for he was wiſe:

Of Autumns fruits a basket on his arm,

His golden God in’s purſe, whihc was his charm.

And laſt of all to act upon this ſtage

Leaning upon his ſtaff came up Old Age,

Under his arm a ſheaf of wheat he bore,

An harveſt of the beſt, what needs he more?

In C7r 45

In’s other hand a glaſs ev’n almoſt run,

Thus writ about This out then am I done.

His hoary hairs, and grave aſpect made way,

And all gave ear to what he had to ſay.

Theſe being met each in his equipage

Intend to ſpeak according to their age:

But wiſe Old age did with all gravity

To childiſh Childhood give precedency,

And to the reſt his reaſon mildly told,

That he was young before he grew ſo old.

To do as he each one full ſoon aſſents,

Their method was that of the Elements,

That each ſhould tell what of himſelf he knew,

Both good and bad, but yet no more then’s true.

With heed now ſtood three ages of frail man,

To hear the child, who crying thus began:


Ah me! conceiv’d in ſin and born with ſorrow,

A nothing, here to day and gone to morrow.

Whoſe mean beginning bluſhing can’t reveal,

But night and darkneſs muſt with ſhame conceal.

My mothers breeding ſickneſs I will ſpare,

Heer nine moneths weary burthen not declare.

To ſhew her bearing pains, I ſhould do wrong.

To tell thoſe pangs which can’t be told by tongue:

With tears into the world I did arrive,

My mother ſtill did waſte as I did thrive,

Who C7v 46

Who yet with love and all alacrity,

Spending, was willing to be ſpent for me.

With wayward cryes I did diſturb her reſt,

Who ſought ſtill to appeaſe me with the breaſt:

With weary arms ſhe danc’d and By By ſung,

When wretched I ingrate had done the wrong.

When infancy was paſt, my childiſhneſs

Did act all folly that it could expreſs,

My ſillineſs did only take delight

In that which riper age did ſcorn and ſlight.

In Rattles, Baubles and ſuch toyſh ſtuff,

My then ambitious thoughts were low enough:

My high-born ſoul ſo ſtraightly was confin’d,

That its own worth it did not know nor mind:

This little houſe of fleſh did ſpacious count,

Through ignorance all troubles did ſurmount;

Yet this advantage had mine ignorance

Freedom from envy and from arrogance.

How to be rich or great I did not cark,

A Baron or a Duke ne’r made my mark,

Nor ſtudious was Kings favours how to buy,

With coſtly preſence or baſe flattery:

No office coveted wherein I might

Make ſtrong my ſelf and turn aſide weak right:

No malice bare to this or that great Peer,

Nor unto buzzing whiſperers gave ear:

I gave no hand nor vote for death or life,

I’d nought to do ’twixt King and peoples ſtrife.

No Statiſt I, nor Martiliſt in th field,

Where ere I went mine innocence was ſhield.

My C8r 47

My quarrels not for Diadems did riſe,

But for an apple, plum, or ſome ſuch prize:

My ſtrokes did cauſe no blood no wounds or skars,

My little wrath did end ſoon as my Warrs:

My Duel was no challeng, nor did ſeek

My foe ſhould weltring in his bowels reek.

I had no ſuits at law neighbours to vex,

Nor evidence for lands did me perplex.

I fear’d no ſtorms, nor all the wind that blowes,

I had no ſhips at ſea; nor fraights to looſe.

I fear’d no drought nor wet, I had no crop,

Nor yet on furture things did ſet my hope.

This was mine innocence, but ah! the ſeeds

Lay raked up of all the curſed weeds

Which ſprouted forth in mine enſuing age,

As he can tel that next comes on the ſtage:

But yet let me relate before I go

The ſins and dangers I am ſubject to,

Stained from birth with Adams ſinfull fact,

Thence I began to ſin as ſoon as act:

A perverſe will, a love to what’s forbid,

A ſerpents ſting in pleaſing face lay hid:

A lying tongue as ſoon as it could ſpeak,

And fifth Commandment do daily break.

Oft ſtubborn, peeviſh, ſullen, pout and cry,

Then nought can pleaſe, and yet I know not why.

As many are my ſins, ſo dangers too;

For ſin brings ſorrow, ſickneſs death and woe:

And though I miſs the toſſings of the mind,

Yet griefs in my frail fleſh I ſtill do find.

What C8v 48

What gripes of wind mine infancy did pain,

What tortures I in breeding teeth ſuſtain?

What crudityes my ſtomack cold hath bred,

Whence vomits, flux and worms have iſſued?

What breaches, knocks and falls I daily have,

And ſome perhaps I carry to my grave,

Sometimes in fire, ſometimes in water fall,

Strangly preſev’d, yet mind it not at all:

At home, abroad my dangers manifold,

That wonder tis, my glaſs till now doth hold.

I’ve done; unto my elders I give way,

For tis but little that a child can ſay.


My goodly cloathing, and my beauteous skin

Declare ſome greater riches are within:

But what is beſt I’le firſt preſent to view,

And then the worſt in a more ugly hue:

For thus to doe we on thes ſstage aſſemble.

Then let not him that hath moſt craft diſſemble.

My education and my learning ſuch,

As might my ſelf and others profit much;

With nurture trained up in virtues ſchools

If ſcience, arts and tongues I know the rules,

The manners of the court I alſo know,

And ſo likewiſe what they in’th Country doe.

The brave attempts of valiant knights I prize.

That dare ſcale walls and forts rear’d to the skies.

The D1r 49

The ſnorthing Horſe, the trumpet, Drum I like,

The glitt’ring ſword, the Piſtol and the Pike:

I cannot lye intrench’d before a town

No wait till good ſucceſs our hopes doth crown:

I ſcorn the heavy Corſlet, musket-proof;

I fly to catch the bullet thats aloof.

Though thus in field, at home to all moſt kind,

So affable, that I can ſuit each mind.

I can inſinuate into the breaſt,

And by my mirth can raiſe the heart depreſt:

Sweet muſick raps my brave harmonious ſoul,

My high thoughts elevate beyond the pole:

My with my bounty, and my courteſie,

Make all to place their future hopes on me.

This is my beſt, but Youth is known, Alas!

To be as wild as is the ſnuffing Aſs:

As vain as froth or vanity can be,

That who would ſee vain man, may look on me

My gifts abusd my education loſt,

My wofull Parents longing hopes are croſt,

My wit evaporates in merriment,

My valour in ſome beaſtly quarrell’s ſpent:

My luſt doth hurry me to all that’s ill:

I know no law nor reaſon but my will.

Sometimes lay wait to take a wealthy purſe,

Or ſtab the man in’s own defence (that’s worſe)

Sometimes I cheat (unkind) a female heir

Of all at once, who not ſo wiſe as fair

Truſteth my loving looks and glozing tongue,

Untill her friends, treaſure and honours gone.

D Some D1v 50

Sometimes I ſit carouſing others health,

Untill mine own be gone, my with and wealth

From pipe to pot, from pot to words and blows,

For he that loveth wine, wanteth no woes.

Whole nights with Ruffins, Roarers Fidlers ſpend,

To all obſcenity mine ears I lend:

All Counſell hate, which tends to make me wiſe.

And deareſt friends count for mine enemies.

If any care I take tis to be fine,

For ſure my ſuit more then my virtues ſhine

If time from leud Companions I can ſpare,

’Tis ſpent to curle and pounce my new-bought hair.

Some new Adonis I do ſtrive to be;

Sardanapalus now ſurvives in me.

Cards, Dice, and Oathes concomitant I love,

To playes to maſques, to taverns ſtill I move.

And in a word, if what I am you’d hear,

Seek out a Brittiſh bruitiſh Cavaleer:

Such wretch, ſuch Monſter am I but yet more,

I have no heart at all this deplore,

Remembring not the dreadfull day of doom,

Nor yet that heavy reckoning ſoon to come.

Though dangers do attend me every hour,

And gaſtly Death oft threats me with his power,

Sometimes by wounds in idle Combates taken,

Sometimes with Agues all my body ſhaken:

Sometimes by fevers, all my moiſture drinking,

My heart lies frying, & mine eyes are ſinking.

Sometimes the Quinſey, painfull Pleuriſie,

With ſsad affrights of death doth menace me:

Some- D2r 51

Sometimes the two fold Pox me ſore be marrs

With outward marks, & inward loathſome ſcarrs,

Sometimes the Phrenzy ſtrangly mads my brain,

That oft for it in Bedlam I remain.

Too many my diſeaſes to recite,

That wonder tis, I yet behold the light,

That yet my bed in daarkneſs is not made,

And I in black oblivions Den now laid.

Of aches full my bones, of woe my heart,

Clapt in that priſon, never thence to ſtart.

Thus I have ſaid, and that I’ve been, you ſee

Childhood and Yourh are vain ye vanity.

Middle Age.

Childhood and Youth (forgot) I’ve ſometimes ſeen

And now am grown more ſtaid who have bin green

What they have done, the ſame was done by me,

As was their praiſe or ſhame, ſo mine muſt be.

Now age is more; more good you may expect,

But more mine age, the more is my defect.

When my wild oates were ſoen & ripe and mown

I then receiv’d an harveſt of mine own.

My reaſon then bad judge how little hope

My empty ſeed ſhould yield a better crop:

Then with both hands I graſpt the world together

Thus out of one extream into another:

But yet laid hold on virtue ſeemingly,

Who climbs without hold climbs dangerousſly.

D2 Be D2v 52

Be my condition mean, I then take pains

My Family to keep but not for gains.

A Father I, for children muſt provide;

But if none, then for kindred near ally’d.

If rich, I’m urged then to gather more,

To bear a port i’th’ world and feed the poor.

If noble, then mind honour to maintain,

If not, riches nobility can gain.

For time, for place, likewiſe for each Relation

I wanted not, my ready allegation.

Yet all my powers for ſelf ends are not ſpent,

For hundreds bleſs me for my bounty lent.

Whos backs I’ve cloth’d, and bellyes I have fed

With mind own fleece & with my houſhold bread,

Yea, juſtice have I done, was I in place,

To chear the good, and wicked to deface.

The proud I cruſh’t, th’oppreſſed I ſet free,

The lyars curb’d, but nouriſht verity.

Was I a Paſtor, I my Flock did feed,

And gently lead the Lambs as they had need.

A Captain I, with Skill I train’d my Band,

And ſhew’d them how in face of Foes to ſtand.

A souldier I, with ſpeed I did obey

As readily, as could my leader ſay.

Was I a labourer, I wrought all day

As cheerfully as e’re I took my pay.

Thus hath mine Age in all ſometimes done well.

Sometimes again, mine Age been worſe then Hell.

In meanneſs, greatneſs, riches, poverty

Did toyle, did broyle, oppreſſ’d, did ſteal and lye.

Was D3r 53

Was I as poor as poverty could be,

Then baſeneſs was Companion unto me.

Such ſcum as hedges and high-ways do yield,

As neither ſow, nor reap, nor plant nor build,

If to Agrigulture I was ordain’d

Great labours, ſorrows, Croſſes I ſuſtain’d.

The early Cock did ſummon but in vain

My wakeful thoughts up to my painful gain:

My weary Beaſt reſt from his toyle can find,

But if I reſt the more diſtreſt my mind.

If happineſs my ſordidneſs hath found,

’Twas in the Crop of my manured ground.

My thriving Cattle and my new-milch-Cow,

My fleeced Sheep, and fruitful farrowing Sow:

To greater things I never did aſpire,

My dunghil thoughts or hopes could reach no high er.

If to be rich or great it was my fate,

How was I broyll’d with envy and with hate?

Greater then was the great’ſt was my deſire,

And thirſt for honour, ſet my heart on fire:

And by Ambition’s ſails I was ſo carried,

That over Flats and ſands, and Rocks I hurried,

Oppreſt and ſunk, and ſtav’d all in my way

That did oppoſe me, to my longed Bay.

My thirſt was higher then nobility

I oft long’d fore to taſt on Royalty:

Then Kings muſt be depos’d or put to flight,

I might poſſeſs that Throne whihc was their right,

There ſet, I rid my ſelf ſtraight out of hand

Of ſuch Competitors, as might in time withſtand.

D3 Then D3v 54

Then thought my ſtate firm founded ſure to laſt,

But in a trice ’tis ruin’d by a blaſt,

Though cemented with more then noble bloud,

The bottom nought, and ſon no longer ſtood.

Sometimes vain glory is the only baite

Whereby my empty Soul is lur’d and caught.

Be I of wit, of learning, and of parts,

I judge I ſhould have room in all mens hearts,

And envy gnaws if any do ſurmount,

I hate, not to be held in high’ſt account.

If Bias like I’m ſtript unto my skin,

I glory in my wealth I have within.

Thus good and bad and what I am you ſee,

Now in a word, what my diſeaſes be.

The vexing ſtone in bladder and in reins,

The Strangury torments me with ſore pains.

The windy Cholick oft my bowels rend,

To break the darkſome priſon where it’s pen’d.

The Cramp and Gout doth ſadly torture me,

And the reſtraining, lame Sciatica.

The Aſtma, Megrim, Palſy, Lethargie,

The quartan Ague, dropſy, Lunacy:

Subject to all diſtempers (that’s the truth)

Though ſome more incident, to Age or Youth.

And to conclude, I may not tedious be,

Man at his beſt eſtate is vanity.

Old Age.

What you have been, ev’n ſuch have I before

And all you ſay, ſay I, and ſomewhat more.

Babes D4r 55

Babes innocence, youths wildneſs I have ſeen,

And in perplexed middle Age have been:

Sickneſs, dangers, and anxieties have paſt,

And on this ſtage am come to act my laſt.

I have been young and srong an dwiſe as you:

But not Bis pueri ſenes, is too true.

In every Age I’ve found much vanity,

An end of all perfection now I ſee.

It’s not my valour, honour, nor my gold,

My ruin’d houſe now falling can uphold.

It’s not my learning Rhetorick wit ſo large,

Hath now the power, death’s warfare to diſcharge.

It’s not my goodly ſtate, nor bed of downe

That can refreſh, or eaſe if Conſcience frown.

Nor from Alliance can I now have hope,

But what I have done well, that is my prop;

He that in youth is godly, wiſe and ſage,

Provides a ſtaff then to ſupport his Age.

Mutations great, ſome joyful and ſome ſad,

In this ſhort pilgrimage I oft have had.

Sometimes the Heavens with plenty ſmil’d on me

Sometime again rain’d all Adverſity

Sometimes in honour, ſometimes in diſgrace,

Sometime an Abapproximately one letterflawed-reproductionct, then again in place.

Such private changes oft mine eyes have ſeen,

In various times of ſtate I’ve alſo been.

I’ve ſeen a Kingdome flouriſh like a tree,

When it was rul’d by that Celeſtial ſhe;

And like a Cedar, others ſo ſurmount:

That but for ſhrubs they did themſelves account.

D4 Then D4v 56

Then ſaw I France and Holland, ſav’d Cales won,

And Philip and Albertus half undone.

I ſaw all peace at home, terror to foes,

But ah, I ſaw at laſt thoſe eyes to cloſe,

And then methought the day at noon grew dark

When it had loſt that radiant Sun-like Spark:

In midſt of griefs I ſaw our hopes revive,

(For ’twas our hopes then kept our hearts alive)

We chang’d our queen for king under whoſe rayes

We joy’d in many bleſt and proſperous dayes.

I’ve ſeen a Prince, the glory of our land

In prime of youth ſeiz’d by heavens angry hand,

Which fil’d our hearts with fears, with tears our eyes,

Wailing his fate & our own deſtinies

I’ve ſeen from Rome an execrable thing,

A Plot to blow up Nobles and their King,

But ſaw their horrid fact ſoon diſappointed,

And Land & Nobles ſav’d with their anointed.

I’ve Princes ſeen to live on others lands;

A royal one by gifts from ſtrangers hands

Admired for their magnanimity,

Who loſt a Prince-dome and a Monarchy.

I’ve ſeen deſigns for Ree and Rochel croſt,

And poor Palatinate for ever loſt

I’ve ſeen unworthy men advanced high,

(And better ones ſuffer extremity)

But neither favour, riches, title, State,

Could length their dayes or once reverſe their fate

I’ve ſeen one ſtab’d, and ſome to looſe their heads

And others fly, ſtruck both with gilt and dread.

Ive D5r 57

I’ve ſeen and ſo have you, for tis but late,

The deſolation of a goodly State,

Plotted and acted ſo that none can tell,

Who gave the counſel, but the Prince of hell,

Three hundred thouſand ſlaughtered innocents,

By bloudy Popiſh, helliſh miſcreants:

Oh my you live and ſo you will I truſt

To ſee them ſwill in bloud untill they burſt.

I’ve ſeen a King by force thruſt from his throne,

And an Uſurper ſubt’ly mount thereon.

I’ve ſeen a ſtate unmoulded rent in twain,

But ye may live to ſee’t made up again.

I’ve ſeen it plunder’d, taxt and ſoak’d in bloud,

But out of evill you may ſee much good.

What are my thoughts, this is no time to ſay.

Men may more freely ſpeak another day.

Theſe are no old-wives tales, but this is truth,

We old men love to tell what’s done in youth.

But I return from whence I ſtept awry,

My memory is bad, my brain is dry:

Mine Almond tree, grey hairs, doe flouriſh now,

And back once ſtraight, apace begins to bow:

My grinders now are few, my ſight doth fail,

My skin is wrinkled, and my cheeks are pale,

No more rejoyce at muſicks pleaſing noiſe,

But waking glad to hear the cocks ſhrill voice:

I cannot ſcent ſsavours of pleaſant meat,

Nor ſapors find in what I drink or eat

My arms and hands once ſtrong have loſt their might

I cannot labour, much leſs can I fight.

My D5v 58

My comely legs as nimble as the Roe

Now ſtiff and numb, can hardly creep or goe,

My heart ſometimes as fierce as Lion bold,

Now trembling is, all fearful ſad and cold;

My golden Bowl and ſilver Cord e’re long

Shall both be broke, by racking deeath ſo ſtrong:

Then ſhall I go whence I ſhall come no more,

Sons, Nephews leave my farewel to deplore.

In pleaſures and in labours I have found

That Earth can give no conſolation ſound;

To great to rich to poor to young to old,

To mean to noble, fearful or to bold:

From King to begger all degrees ſhall find

But vanity vexation of the mind.

Year knowing much the pleaſants life of all,

Hath yet among thoſe ſweets ſome bitter gall;

Though reading others works doth much refreſh,

Yet ſtudying much brings wearineſs to th’ fleſh:

My ſtudies, labours readings all are done,

And my laſt period now ev’n almoſt run.

Corruption my Father I do call

Mother and Siſters both the worms that crawle

In my dark houſe ſuch kindred I have ſtore,

Where I ſhall reſt till heavens ſhall be no more,

And when this fleſh ſhall rot an dbe conſum’d,

This body by this Soul ſhall be aſſum’d:

And I ſhall ſee with theſe ſame very eyes,

My ſtrong Redeemer coming in the Skies.

Triumph I ſhall o’re ſin, o’re death, o’re Hell,

And in that hope I bid you all farewel.

The D6r 59

The four Seaſons of the Year.


Another four I’ve left yet to bring on,

If four times four, the laſt (Quaternion),

The Winter, Summer, Autumn & the Spring,

In ſeaſon all theſe Seaſons I ſhall bring:

Sweet Spring like man in his Minority,

At preſent claim’d, and had priority.

With ſmiling face and garments ſomewhat green,

She trim’d her locks, whihc late had froſted been,

Nor hot nor cold, ſhe ſpake, but with a breath,

Fit to revive, the nummed earth from death.

Three months (quoth ſhe) are ’lotted to my ſhare

(March,) (April, ) (May) of all the reſt moſt fair.

Tenth of the firſt (Sol) into Aries enters,

And bids defiance to all tedious winters,

Croſſeth the Line, and equals night and day,

Stil adds to th’ laſt til after pleaſant (May)

And now makes glad the darkned northern wights

Who for ſome months have ſeen but ſtarry lights.

Now goes the Plow-man to his merry toyle,

He might unlooſe his winter locked ſoyl:

The Seeds-man too, doth laviſh out his grain,

In hope the more he caſts, the more to gain:

The D6v 60

The Gardner now ſuperfluous branches lops,

And poles erects for his young clambring hops.

Now digs then ſowes his herbs, his flowers & roots

And carefully manures his trees of fruits.

The Pleiades their influence now give,

And all that ſeem’d as dead afreſh doth live.

The croaking frogs, whom nipping winter kil’d

Like birds now chirp, and hop about the field,

The Nightingale, the black-bird and the Thruſh

Now tune their layes, on ſprayes of every buſh.

The wanton frisking Kid, and ſoft fleec’d Lambs

Do jump an dplay before their feeding Dams,

The tender tops of budding graſs they crop,

They joy in what they have, but more in hope

For though the froſt hath loſt his binding power,

Yet many a fleece of ſnow and ſtormy ſhower

Doth darken Sols bright eye, makes us remember

The pinching North-weſt wind of cold December,

My ſecond moneth is April, green and fair,

Of longer dayes, and a more temperate Aire:

The Sun in Taurus keeps his reſidence,

And with his warmer beams glanceth from thence

This is the month whoſe fruitful ſhowrs produces

All ſet and ſown for all delights and uſes:

The Pear the Plum, and Apple tree now flouriſh

The graſs grows long, the hungry beaſt to nouriſh

The Primroſe pale, and azure violet

Among the virluous graſs hath nature ſet,

That when the Sun on’s Love (the earth) doth ſhine

Theſe might as lace ſet out her garment fine.

The D7r 61

The fearfull bird his little houſe now builds

In trees and walls, in Cities and in fields.

The outſide ſtroing, th inſide warm and neat,

A natural Artificer compleat.

The clocking hen her chirping chickins leads

With wings & beak defends them from the gleads

My next and laſt is fruitfull pleeaſant May

Wherein the earth is clad in rich array,

The Sun now enters loving Gemini

And heats us with the glances of his eye,

Our thicker rayment makes us lay aſide

Leſt by his fervor we be torrifi’d.

All flowers the Sun now with his beams diſcloſes,

Except the double pinks and matchleſs Roſes.

Now ſwarms the buſy, witty, honey-Bee,

Whoſe praiſe deſerves a page from more then me

The cleanly Huſwifes Dary’s now in th’ prime,

Her ſshelves and firkins fill’d for winter time.

The meads with Cowſlips, Honey-ſuckles dight,

One hangs his head, the other ſtands upright:

But both rejoyce at th’heavens clear ſmiling face,

More at her ſhowers, which water them a ſpace.

For fruits my Seaſon yields the early Cherry,

The haſty Peas and wholſome cool Strawberry.

More ſolid fruits require a longer time,

Each Seaſon hath his fruit ſo hath each Clime:

Each man his own peculiar excellence,

But none in all that hath preheminence.

Sweet fragrant Spring with thy ſhort pittance fly

Let ſome deſcribe thee better thne can I.

Yet D7v 62

Yet above all this priviledge is thine,

Thy dayes ſtill lengthen without leaſt decline.


When Spring haad done, the Summer did begin,

With melted tauny face, and garments thin,

Reſembling fire, Choler, and Middle age,

As Spring did Air, Blood, Youth in’d equipage.

Wiping the ſweat from of her face that ran,

With hair all wet ſhe puffing thus began;

Bright June, July and Auguſt hot are mine,

In’th firſt Sol doth in crabbed Cancer ſhine.

His progreſs to the North now’s fully done,

Then retrograde muſt be my burning Sun,

Who to his ſouthward Tropick ſtill is bent,

Yet doth his pasrching heat but more augment

Though he cecline, becauſe his flames ſo fair,

Have throughly dry’d the earth, and heat the air.

Like as an Oven that long time hath been heat,

Whoſe vehemency at length doth grow ſo great,

That if you do withdtraw her burning ſtore,

Tis for a time as fervent as before.

Now go thoſe frolick Swains, the Shepherd Lads

To waſh the thick cloth’d flocks with pipes full glad

In the cool ſtreams they labour with delight

Rubbing their dirty coats till they look white:

Whoſe fleece when finely ſpun and deeply dy’d

With Robes thereof Kings have been dignifi’d.

Bleſt D8r 63

Bleſt ruſtick Swains, your pleaſant quiet life,

Hath envy bred in Kings that were at ſtrife,

Careleſs of worldly weealth you ſing and pipe,

Whilſt they’r imbroyl’d in wars & troubles rife:

Which made great Bojazet cry out in’s woes,

Oh happy ſhepherd which hath not to loſe.

Orthobulus, nor yet Schaſtia great,

But whiſtleth to thy flock in cold and heat.

Viewing the Sun by day, the Moon by night

Endimions, Dianaes dear delight,

Upon the graſs reſting your healthy limbs,

By purling Brooks looking how firſhes ſwims.

If pride within your lowly Cells ere haunt,

Of him that was Shepherd then King go vaunt.

This moneth the Roſes are diſtil’d in gloaſſes,

Whoſe fragrant ſmel all made perfurmes ſurpaſſes

The Cherry Gooſeberry are now in th’ prime,

And for all ſorts of Peaſe, this is the time.

July my next, the hott’ſt in all the year,

The ſun through Leo now takes his Career,

Whoſe flaming breath doth melt us from afar,

Increaſed by the ſtar Canicular.

This Month from Julius Cæſsar took its name,

By Romans celebrated to his fame.

Now go the Mowers to their flaſhing toyle,

The Meadowes of their riches to diſpoyle,

With weary ſtrokes, they take all in their way,

Bearing the burning heat of the long day.

The forks and Rakes do follow them amain,

Which makes the aged fields look young again.

The D8v 64

The groaning Carts do bear away this prize.

To Stacks and Barns where it for Fodder lyes.

My next and laſt is Auguſt fiery hot

(For much the Southward Sun abateth not)

This Moneth he keeps with Virgo for a ſpace,

The dryed Earth is parched with his face.

Auguſt of great Auguſtus took its name,

Romes ſecond Emperour of laſting fame,

With ſickles now the bending Reapers goe

The ruffling treſs of terra down to mowe;

And bundles up in ſheaves, the weighty wheat,

Which after Manchet makes for Kings to eat:

The Barly, Rye and Peaſe ſhould firſt had place,

Although their bread have not ſo white a face.

The Carter leads all home with whiſtling voyce,

He plow’d with pain, but reaping doth rejoyce;

His ſweat, his toyle, his careful wakeful nights,

His fruitful Crop abundantly requites.

Now’s ripe the Pear, Pear-plumb, and Apricock,

The prince of plumbs, whoſe ſtone’s as hard as Rock

The Summer ſeems but ſhort, the Autumn haſts

To ſhake his fruits, of moſt delicious taſts

Like good old Age, whoſe younger juicy Roots

Hath ſtill aſcended, to bear goodly fruits.

Until his head be gray, and ſtrength be gone.

Yet then appears the worthy deeds he ’t done:

To feed his boughs exhauſted hath his ſap,

Then drops his fruits into the eaters lap.

Autumn. E1r 65


Of Autumn moneths September is the prime,

Now day and night are equal in each Clime,

The twelfth of this Sol riſeth in the Line,

And doth in poizing Libra this month ſhine.

The vintage now is ripe, the grapes are preſt,

Whoſe lively liquor oft is curſ’d and bleſt:

For nought ſo good, but it may be abuſed,

But its a precious juice when well its uſed.

The raiſins now in cluſters dryed be,

The Orange, Lemon dangle on the tree:

The Pomegranate, the Fig are ripe alſo,

And Apples now their yellow ſides do ſhow.

Of Almonds, Quinces, Wardens, and of Peach,

Teh ſeaſon’s now at hand of all and each.

Sure at this time, time firſt of all began,

And in this moneth was made apoſtate Man.

For then in Eden was not only ſeen,

Boughs full of leaves, or fruits unripe or green,

Or withered ſtocks, which were all dry and dead,

But trees with goodly fruits repleniſhed;

Which ſhews nor Summer Winter nor the Spring

Our Grand-Sire was of Paradice made King:

Nor could that temp’rate Clime ſuch difference make,

If ſcited as the moſt Judicious take.

October is my next, we hear in this

The Northern winter-blaſts begin to hiſs.

E In E1v 66

In Scorpio reſideth now the Sun,

And his declining heat is almoſt done.

The fruitleſs Trees all withered now do ſtand,

Whoſe ſapleſs yellow leaves, by winds are fan’d,

Which notes when youth and ſtrength have paſt their prime

Decrepit age muſt alſo have its time.

The Sap doth ſlily creep towards the Earth

There reſts, until the Sun give it a birth.

So doth old Age ſtill tend unto his grave,

Where alſo he his winter time muſt have;

But when the Sun of righeouſneſs draws nigh,

His dead old ſtock, ſhall mount again on high.

November is my laſt, for Time doth haſte,

We now of winters ſharpneſs ’gins to taſt.

This moneth the Sun’s in Sagitarius

So farre remote, his glances warm not us.

Almoſt at ſhorteſt is the horren’d day,

The Northern pole beholdeth not one ray.

Now Grenland, Groanland, Finland, Lapland, ſee

No Sun, to lighten their obſcurity:

Poor wretches that in total darkneſs lye,

With minds more dark then is the dark’ned Sky.

Beaf, Brawn and Pork are now in great requeſt,

And ſolid meats our ſtomacks can digeſt.

This time warm cloaths, full diet and good fires,

Our pinched fleſh, and hungry mawes requires:

Old, cold, dry Age and Earth Autumn reſembles,,

And Melancholy which moſt of all diſſembles.

I muſt be ſhort, and ſhorts, the ſhort’ned day,

What winter hath to tell, now let him ſay.

Winter. E2r 67


Cold, moiſt, young flegmy winter now doth lye

In ſwadling Clouts, like new born Infancy

Bound up with froſts, and furr’d with hail & ſnows,

And like an Infant, ſtill it taller grows;

December is my firſt, and now the Sun

To th’ Southward (Tropick) his ſwift race doth run:

This noneth he’s hous’d in horned (Capricorn)

From thence he ’gins to lenfth the ſhortned morn,

Through (Christendome) with great Feaſtivity,

Now’s held (but gheſt) for bleſt Nativity.

Cold frozen (January) next comes in,

Chilling the blood and ſhrinking up the skin;

In Aquarius now keeps the long wiſht Sun,

And Northward his unwearied Courſe doth run.

The day much longer then it was before,

Now Toes and Ears, and Fingers often freeze,

And Travellers their noſes ſometimes leeſe.

Moiſt ſnowie February is my laſt,

I care not how the winter time doth haſte,

In Piſces now the golden Sun doth ſhine,

And Northward ſtill approaches to the Line,

The Rivers ’gin to ope, the ſnows to melt,

and ſome warm glances from his face are felt,

Which is increaſed by the lengthen’d day,

Until by’s heat, he drive all cold away,

E2 And E2v 68

And thus the year in Circle runneth round:

Where firſt it did begin, in th’ end its found.

My Subjects bare, my Brain is bad,

Or better Lines you ſhould have had:

The firſt fell in ſo nat’rally,

I knew not how to paſs it by;

The laſt, though bad, I could not mend,

Accept therefore of what is pen’d,

And all the faults that you ſhall ſpy

Shall at your feet for pardon cry.

The E3r 69

The four Monarchyes, the Assyrian being the firſt, beginning under Nimrod, 131 Years after the Flood,

When time was young, & World in Infancy,

Man did notproudly ſtrive for Soveraignty:

But each one thought his petty Rule was high,

If of his houſe he held the Mondarchy.

This was the golden Age, but after came

The boiſterous ſon of Chus, Grand-Child to Ham,

That mighty Hunter, who in his ſtrong toyles

Both Beaſts and Men ſubjected to his ſpoyles:

The ſtrong foundation of proud Babel laid,

Erech, Accad and Cluneh alſo made.

Theſe were his firſt, all ſtood in Shinar land,

From thence he went Aſſyria to command,

And mighty Niniveh, he there begun,

Not finiſhed till he his race had run.

Reſennn, Caleh, and Rehoboth likewiſe

By him to Cities eminent did riſe.

E3 Of E3v 70

Of Saturn, he was the Original.

Whom the ſucceeding times a God did call,

When thus with rule, he had been dignifi’d,

One hundred fourteen years he after dy’d.


Great Nimrod dead, Belus the next his Son

Confirms the rule, his Father had begun;

Whoſe acts and power is not for certainty

Left to the world, by any Hiſtory.

But yet this blot for ever on him lies,

He taught the people firſt to Idolize:

Titles Divene he to himſelf did take,

Alive and dead, a God they did him make.

This is that Bel the Chaldees worſhiped,

Whoſe Prieſts in Storis oft are mentioned;

This is that Baal to whom the Iſraelites

Sof oft profanely offered ſacred Rites:

This is Beelzebub God of the Ekronites,

Likewiſe Baalpeor of the Mohabites,

His reign was ſhort, fo ras I calculate,

At twenty five ended his Regal date.


His Father dead, Ninus begins his reign,

Transfers his ſeat to the Assyrian plain;

And mighty Nineveh more mighty made,

Whoſe Foundation was by his Grand-ſire laid;

Four hundred forty Furlongs wall’d about,

On which ſtood fifteen hundred Towers ſtout.

The E4r 71

The walls one hundred ſixty foot upright,

So broad three Chariots run abreſt there might.

Upon the pleaſant banks of Tygrus floud

This ſtately Seat of warlike Ninus ſtood:

This Ninus for a God his Father canonized.

To whom the ſottiſh people ſacrificed.

This Tyrant did his Neighbours all oppreſs,

Where e’re he warr’d he had too good ſucceſs.

Barzanes the great Arminian King

By force and fraud did under Tribute bring.

The Median Country he did alſo gain,

Thermus their King he cauſed to be ſlain;

An Army of three millions he led out

Againſt the Bactrians (but that I doubt)

Zoreaſter their King he likewiſe ſlew,

And all the greater Aſia did ſubdue.

Semiramis from Menon did he take

Then drown’d himſelf, did Menon for her ſake.

Fifty two years he reign’d, (as we are told)

The world then was two thouſand nineteen old.


This great oppreſſing Ninus, dead and gone,

His wife Semiramis uſurp’d the Throne;

She like a brave Virago playd the Rex

And was both ſhame an dglory of her Sex:

Her birth place was Philiſtines Ajcolan,

Her mother Dorceta a Curtizan.

Others report ſhe was a veſtal Nun,

Adjudged to be drown’d for th’ crime ſhe’d done.

E4 Transform’d E4v 72

Tranſform’d into a Fiſh by Venus will,

Her beauteous face, (they feign) reteining ſtill.

Sure from this Fiction Dagon firſt reteining ſtill.

Changing the womans face into a man:

But all agree that from no lawfull bed,

This great renowned Empreſs iſſued:

For which ſhe was obſcurely nouriſhed,

Whence roſe that Fable, ſhe by birds was fed.

This gallant Dame unto the Bactrian warre,

Accompanying her husband Menon farr,

Taking a town, ſuch valour ſhe did grow,

And thought her fit to make a Monarchs wife,

Which was the cauſe poor Menon loſt his life:

She flouriſhing with Ninus long did reign,

Till her Ambition caus’d him to be ſlain.

That having no Compeer, ſhe might rule all,

Or elſe ſhe ſought revenge for Menon’s fall.

Some think the Greeks this ſlander on her caſt,

As on her life Licentious, and unchaſt,

That undeſerv’d, they blur’d her name and fame

By their aſperſions, caſt upon the fame:

But were her virtues more or leſs, or none,

She for her potency muſt go alone.

Her wealth ſhe ſhew’d in building Babylon,

Admir’d of all, but equaliz’d of none;

The Walls ſo ſtrong, and curiousſly was wrought,

That after Ages, Skill by them was taught:

With Towers and Bulwarks made of coſtly ſtone,

Quadrangle was the form it ſtood upon.

Each E5r 73

Each Square was fifteen thouſand paces long,

An hundred gates it had of mettal ſtrong:

Three hundred ſixty foot the walls in height,

Almoſt incredible, they were in breadth

Some writers ſay, ſix Chariots might affront

With great facility, march fate upon’t:

About the Wall a ditch ſo deep and wide,

That like a River long it did abide.

Three hundred thouſsand men here day by day

Beſtow’d their labour, and receiv’d their pay.

And that which did all coſt and Art excell,

The wondrous Temple was, ſhe rear’d to Bell:

Which in the midſt of this brave Town was plac’d,

Continuing til Xerxes it defac’d:

Whoſe ſtately top above the Clouds did riſe,

From whence Aſtrologers oft view’d the Skies.

This to deſecribe in each particular,

A ſtructure rare I ſhould but rudely marre.

Her Gardens, Bridges, Arches, mounts and ſpires

All eyes that ſaw, or ears that hear admires,

In Shinar plain on the Euphratian flood

This wonder of the world, this Babel ſtood.

An expedition to the Eaſt ſhe made

Staurobates, his Country to invade:

Her Army of four millions did conſiſt,

Each may believe it as his fancy liſt.

Her Camels, Chariots, Gallyes in ſuch number,

As puzzles beſt Hiſtorians to remember;

But this is wonderful, of all thoſe men,

They ſay, but twenty e’re came back agen.

The E5v 74

The River Judas ſwept them half away,

The reſt Sttaurobates in fight did ſlay;

This was laſt progreſs of this might Queen,

Who in her Country never more was ſeen.

The Poets feign’d her turn’d into a Dove,

Leaving the world to Venus ſoar’d above:

Which made the Aſſyrians many a day,

A Dove within their Enſigns to diſplay:

Forty two years ſhe reign’d, and then ſhe di’d

But by what means we are not certifi’d.

Ninias or Zamies.

His Mother dead, Ninias obtains his right,

A Prince wedded to eaſe and to delight,

Or else was his obedience very great,

To ſit thus long (obſcure) rob’d of his Seat.

Some write his Mother put his habit on,

Which made the people think they ſerv’d her Son.

But much it isn, in more than foty years

This fraud in war nor peace at all appears:

More like it is his luſt with pleaſures fed,

He ſought no rule till ſhe was gone and dead.

What then he did of worth can no man tell,

But is ſuppoſ’d to be that Amraphel

Who warr’d with Sodom and Gomorrahs King,

’Gainſt whom his trained bands Abram did bring,

But this is farre unlike, he being Son

Unto a Father that all Countres won

So ſuddenly ſhould looſe ſo great a ſtate,

With petty Kings to joyne Confederate.

Nor E6r 75

Nor can thoſe Reaſons which wiſe Raileih finds,

Well ſatisfie the moſt conſiderate minds:

We may with learned Uſher better ſay,

He many Ages liv’d after that day.

And that Semiramus then flouriſhed

When famous Trou was ſo beleaguered:

What e’re he was, or did, or how it fell,

We may ſuggeſt our thoughts but cannot tell.

For Ninias and all his race are left

In deep oblivion, of acts bereft:

And many hundred years in ſilence ſit,

Save a few Names a new Broſus writ

And ſuch as care not what befalls their fames,

May feign as many acts as he did Names;

It may ſuffice, if all be true that’s paſt.

T’ Sardanapalas next, we will make haſte.


Sardanapalas, Son to Ocrazapes,

Who wallowed in all voluptuouſneſs,

That palliardizing ſot that out of dores,

Ne’re ſhew’d his face but revell’d with his whores

Did wear their garbs, their geſtures imitate,

And in their kind, t excell did emulate.

His baſeneſs knowing, and the peoples hate

Kept cloſe, fearing his well deſerved fate.

It chanc’d Arbaces brave unwarily,

His Maſter like a Strumpet clad did ſpye.

His manly heard diſdained (in the leaſt)

Longer to ſerve this Metamorphos’d Beaſt;

Unto E6v 76

Unto Beloſus then he brake his mind,

Who ſick of his diſeaſe, he ſoon did find

Theſe two, rul’d Media and Babilon

Both for their King, held their Dominion;

Beloſus promiſed Arbaces aid

Arbaces him fully to be repayd.

The laſt The Medes and Perſians do invite

Againſt their monſtrous King to uſe their might.

Beloſus, the Chaldaeans doth require

And the Arbaxians, to further his deſire:

Theſe all agree, and forty thouſand make

The Rule, from their unworthy Prince to take:

Theſe Forces muſtered and in array

Sardanapalus leaves his Apiſh play.

And though of wars, he did abhor the ſight;

Fear of his diadem did force him fight.

And either by his valour or his fate,

Arbaces Courage he did ſo abate.

That in diſpair, he left the Field and fled,

But with freſh hopes Beloſus ſuccoured,

From Bactria, an Army was at hand

Preſt for this Service by the Kings Command:

Theſe with celerity Arbaces meet,

And with all Terms of amity them greet.

With promiſes their necks now to unyoke,

And their Taxations ſore all to revoke.

T’infranchiſe them, to grant what they could crave,

No priviledge to want, Subjects ſhould have,

Only intreats them, to joyn their Force with his,

And win the Crown, whihc was the way to bliſs.

Won E7r 77

Won by his loving looks, more by his ſpeech,

T’ accept of what they could, they all beſeech:

Both ſides their hearts their hands, & bands unite,

And ſet upon their Princes Campt that night,

Who revelling in Cups, ſung care away,

For victory obtain’d the other day:

And now ſurpriſ’d, by this unlookt for fright,

Bereft of wits, were ſlaughtered down right.

The King his brother leavs, all to ſuſtain,

And ſpeeds himſelf to Nineveh amain.

But Salmeneus ſlain, the Army falls;

The King’s purſu’d unto the City Walls,

But he once in, purſuers came to late,

The Walls and gates their haſt did terminate.

There with all ſtore he was ſo well provided:

That what Arbaces did, was but derided:

Who there incamp’d, two years for little end,

But in the third, the River prov’d his friend,

For by the rain, was Tygris ſo o’reflown,

Arbaces marches in the Town he takes,

For few or none (it ſeems) reſiſtance makes:

And now they ſaw fulfil’d a Propheſy,

That when the River prov’d their Enemy,

Their ſtrong wal’d Town ſhould ſuddenly be taken

By this accompliſhment, their hearts were ſhaken.

Sardanapalas did not ſeek to fly,

This his inevitable deſtiny;

But all his wealth and friends together gets,

Then on himſelf, and them a fire he ſets.

This E7v 78

This was laſt Moinarch of great Ninus race

That for twelve hundred years had held the place:

Twenty he reign’d ſame time, as Stories tell,

That Aone wordflawed-reproduction as King of Iſrael.

His Father was then King (as we ſuppoſe)

When Jonah for their ſins denounc’d thoſe woes.

He did repent, the threatning was not done,

But now accompliſh’d in his wicked Son.

Arbaces thus of all becoming Lord,

Ingeniouſly with all did keep his word.

Of Babylon Beloſus he made King,

With overplus of all the wealth therein.

To Bactrians he gave their liberty,

Of Ninivites he cauſed none to dye.

But ſuffer’d with their goods, to go elſe where,

Not granting them not to inhabit there:

For he demoliſhed that City great,

And unto Media tranhsfer’d his Seat.

Such was his promiſe which he firmly made,

To Medes and Perſians when he crav’d their aid:

A while he and his race aſide muſt ſtand,

Not pertinent to what we have in hand;

And Belochus in’d progeny purſue,

Who did this Monarchy begin anew.

Beloſus or Belochus.

Beloſus ſetled in his new old Seat,

Not ſo content but aiming to be great,

Incroaching ſtill upon the bordering lands,

Till Meſopotamia he got in’d hands:

And E8r 79

And either by compound or elſe by ſtrength,

Aſſyria be gain’d alſo at length;

Then did rebuild, deſtroyed Nineveh,

A coſtly work which none could do but he,

Who own’d the Treaſsures of proud Babylon.

And thoſe that ſeem’d with Sardanapal’s gone;

For though his Palace did in aſshes lye,

The fire thoſe Mettals could not damnifie,

From theſe with diligence he rakes,

Arbaces ſuffers all, and all he takes,

He thus inricht by this new tryed gold.

Raiſes a Phænix new, from grave o’th’ old;

And from this heap did after Ages ſee

As fair a Town, as the firſt Nineveh.

When this was built, and matters all in peace

Moleſts poor Iſrael, his wealth t’ increaſe.

A thouſand Talents of Menahem had

(Who to be rid of ſuch a gueſt was glad;)

In ſacrid writ he’s known by name of Pul.

Which makes the world of difference ſo full.

That he and Belochus could not one be,

But Circumſtance doth prove the verity;

And times of both computed ſo fall out,

That theſe two made but one, we need not doubt:

What elſe he did, his Empire to advance,

To reſt content we muſt, in ignorance.

Forty eight years he reign’d, his race then run,

He left his new got Kingdome to his Son.

Tiglath E8v 80

Tiglath Pulaſsar.

Beloſus dead, Tiglath his warlike Son.

Next treads thoſe ſteps, by which his Father won;

Damaſcus ancient Seat, of famous Kings

Under ſubjection, by his Sword he brings.

Reſin their valiant King he alſo ſlew,

And Syria t’ obedience did ſubdue.

Judas bad King occaſioned this war,

When Reſins force his Borders ſore did marre,

And divers Cities by ſtrong hand did ſeaze:

To Tiglath then, doth Ahaz ſend for eaſe,

The Temple robs, ſo to fulfil his ends,

And to Aſſyria’s King a preſent ſends.

I am thy Servant and thy Son, (quoth he)

From Reſin and from Pekah ſet me free,

Gladly doth Tiglath this advantage take,

And ſuccours Ahaz yet for Tiglath’s ſake.

The Reſin ſlain, his Army overthrown,

He Syria makes a Province of his own

Unto Damaſcus then comes Judah’s King,

His humble thankfulneſs (in haſte) to bring,

Acknowledging th’d Aſſyrians high deſert,

To whom he ought all loyalty of heart.

But Tiglath having gain’d his wiſhed end,

Proves unto Ahaz but a feigned friend;

All Iſraels lands beyond Jordan he takes,

In Gallilee he woful havock makes.

Through Syria now he march’d none ſtopt his, way

And Ahaz open at his mercy lay;

Who F1r 81

Who ſtill implor’d his love, but was diſtreſt

This was that Ahaz, who ſo high tranſgreſt:

Thus Tiglath reign’d & warr’d twenty ſeven years

Then by his death releaſ’d was Iſraels fears.

Salmanaſſar or Nabanaſſar.

Tiglath deceas’d, Salmanaſſar was next,

He Iſraelites, more then his Father vext,

Hobes their laſt King he did invade,

And him ſix years his Tributary made;

But weary of his ſervitude, he ſought

To Egypts King, whichdid avail him nougtht;

For Salmanaſſar with a might Hoſt,

Beſieg’d his Regal Town, and ſpoyl’d his Coaſt,

And did the people nobles, and their King,

Into perpetual thraldome that time bring;

Thoſe that from Joſhuah’s time had been a ſtate,

10 years. Did Juſtice now by him eradicate:

This was that ſtrange, degenerated brood.

On whom nor threats, nor mercies could do good;

Laden with honour, priſoners and with ſpoyle,

Returns triumphant Victor to his ſoyle;

He plaecd Iſrael there, where he thought beſt,

Then ſent his Colonies theirs to iveſt;

thus Jacobs Sons in Exile muſt remain,

And pleaſant Canaan never ſaw again:

Where now thoſe ten Tribes are, can no man tell,

Or how they fare, rich, poor, or ill or well;

Whether the Indians of the Eaſt, or Weſt,

Or wild Tartarians, as yet ne’re bleſt.

F Or F1v 82

Or elſe thoſe Chinoes rare, whoſe wealth & arts

Hath bred more wonder then belief in heats:

But what, or where they are; yet know we this,

They ſhall return, and Zion ſee with bliſs.


Senacherib Salmanaſſer ſucceeds,

Whoſe haughty heart is ſhowne in words & deeds

His wars none better then himſelf can boaſt,

On Henah, Arpad, and on Juahs coaſt;

On Hevahs and on Sheparvaims gods,

’Twixt them and Iſraels he knew no odds,

Untill the thundring hand of heaven he felt,

Which made his Army into nothing melt:

With ſhame then turn’d to Ninive again,

And by his ſons in’s Idols houſe was ſlain.


His Son, weak Eſſarhaddon reign’d in’s place

The fifth, and laſt of great Belloſus race.

Brave Merodach, the Son of Baladan,

In Babylon Lieftenant to this man

Of opportunity advantage takes,

And on his Maſters ruines his houſe makes.

As Beloſus his Soveraign did onthrone,

So he’s now ſtil’d the King of Babilon.

After twelve years did Eſſarhaddon dye

And Merodach aſſume the Monarchy.

Merodach F2r 83

Merodach Balladan.

All yield to him, but Niniveh kept free,

Untill his Grand-child made her bow the knee.

Abaſſadors to Hezekiah ſent,

His health congratulates with complement.

Ben Merodach.

Ben Merodach Succeeſſor to this King,

Of whom is little ſaid in any thing

But by conjecture this, and none but he

Led King Manaſſeh to Captivity.


Brave Nebulaſſar to this King was ſon,

The famous Niniveh by him was won,

For fifty years, or more, it had been free,

Now yields her neck unto captivity:

A Vice-Roy from her foe ſhe’s glad to accept,

By whom in firm obedience ſhe is kept.

This King’s leſs fam’d for al the acts he’s done,

Then being Father to ſo great a Son.

Nebuchadnezzar, or Nebopolaſſar

The famous acts of this heroick King

Did neither Homer, Heſiod, Virgil ſing:

Nor of his Wars have we the certainty

From ſome Thucidides grave hiſtory.

Nor’s Metamorphoſis from Ovids book,

Nor his reſtoriang from old Legends took,

F2 But F2v 84

But by the Prophets, Pen-men moſt divine

This prince in’s magnitude doth ever ſhine

This was of Monarchyes that head of gold,

The richeſt adn the dread fulleſt to behold:

This was that tree whoſe branches fill’d the earth,

Under whoſe ſhadow birds and beaſts had birth:

This was that king of kings did what he pleas’d,

Kil’d, ſav’d pul’d down, ſet up, or pain’d or eas’d;

And this was he, who when he fear’d the leaſt

Was changed from a King into a beaſt.

This Prince the laſt year of his fathers reign

Againſt Jehojakim marcht with his train,

Judahs poor King beſieg’d and ſuccourleſs

Yields to hismercy, and the preſent ’two lettersflawed-reproductionreſs;

His Vaſſsal is, gives pledges for his truth,

Childrenof royal blood, unblemiſh’d youth:

Wiſe Daniel and his fellowes, mongſt the reſt,

By the victorious king to Babel’s preſt:

The Temple of rich ornaments defac’d,

And in his Idols houſe the veſſels plac’d.

The next year he with unreſiſted hand

Quite vanquiſhd Pharaoh Necho with his band

By great Euphrates did his army fall,

Which was the loſs of Syria withall.

Then into Egypt Necho did retire.

Which in few years proves the Aſſirians hire.

A mighty army next he doth prepare,

And unto wealthy Tyre in haſt repair,

Such was the ſcituation of this place,

As might not him, but all the world out-face,

That F3r 85

That in her pride ſhe knew not which to boaſt

Whether her wealth, or yet her ſtrength was moſt

How in all merchandize ſhe did excel.

None but the true Ezekial need to tell.

And for her ſtrength, how hard ſhe was to gain,

Can Babels tired ſouldiers tell with pain.

Within an Iſland hadthis city ſeat,

Divided from the Main by channel great:

Of coſtly ſhips and Gallyes ſhe had ſtore,

And Mariners to handle ſail and oar:

But the Chaldeans had nor ſhips nor skill,

Their ſhoulders muſt their Maſters mind fulfill,

Fetcht rubbiſh from the oppoſite old town,

And in the channel threw each burden down;

Where after many eſſayes, they made at laſt

The ſea firm land, whereon the Army paſt,

And took the wealthy town; but all the gain,

Requited not the loſs, the toyle and pain.

Full thirteen years in this ſtrange work he ſpent

Before he could accompliſh his intent:

And though a Victor home his Army leads,

With peeled ſhoulders, and with balded heads.

When in the Tyrian war this King was hot,

Jehojakim his oath had clean forgot,

Thinks this the fitteſt time to break his bands

Whileſt Babels King thus deep engaged ſtands:

But he whoſe fortunes all were in the ebbe,

Had all his hopes like to a ſpiders web;

For this great King withdraws part of his force,

To judah marches with a ſpeedy courſe,

F3 And F3v 86

And unexpected finds the feeble Prince

Whom he chaſtis’d thus for his proud offence,

Faſt bound, intends to Babel him to ſend,

But chang’d his mind, & caus’d his life there end,

Then caſt him out like to a naked Aſs,

For this is he for whom none ſaid alas.

His ſon he ſuffered three months to reign,

Then from his throne he pluck’d him down again,

Whom with his mother he to Babel led,

And ſeven andthirty years in priſon fed:

His Uncle he eſtabliſh’d in his place

(Who was laſt King of holy Davids race)

But he as perjur’d aas Jehojakim,

They loſt more now then e’re thy loſt by him.

Seven years he kept his faith, and ſafe he dwells;

But in the eighth againſt his Prince rebels:

The ninth came Nebudchadnezzar with power,

Beſieg’d his city, temple, Zions tower,

And after eighteen months he took them all:

The Walls ſo ſtrong, that ſtood ſo long; now fall.

The curſed King by flight could no wiſe fly

His well deſerv’d and foretold miſery:

But being caught to Babels wrathfull King

With children, wives and Nobles all they bring,

Where so the ſword al but himſelf were put,

And with that wofull ſight his eyes cloſe ſhut.

Ah! hapleſs man, whoſe darkſome contemplation

Was nothing but ſuch gaſstly meditation.

In midſt of Babel now till death he lyes;

Yet as was told ne’re ſaw it with his eyes.

The F4r 87

The Templeſ burnt the veſſels had away.

The towreers and palaces brought to decay:

Where late of harp and Lute were heard the noiſe

Now Zim & Jim lift up their ſcrieching voice.

All now of worth are Captive led with tears,

And ſit bewailing Zion ſeventy years.

With all theſe conqueſts, Babels King reſts not,

No not when Moab, Edom he had got,

Kedar and Hazar, athe Arabians too,

All Vaſſals at his hands for Grace muſt ſue.

A total conqueſt of rich Egypt makes,

all rule he from the ancient Phraarohes takes,

Who had for ſixteen hundred years born ſway,

To Babilons proud King now yields the day.

Then Put and Lud do at his mercy ſtand.

Where e’re he goes, he conquers every land.

His ſumptuous buildings paſſes all conceit,

Which wealth and ſtong ambition made ſo great.

His Image Judah’s Captives worſhip not,

Although the Furnace be ſeven times more hot.

His dreams wiſe Daniel doth expound full well,

And his unhappy chang with grief foretell.

Strange melancholy humours on him lay,

Which for ſeven years his reaſon took away,

Which from no natural cauſes did proceed.

But for his pride, ſo had the ehavens decreed.

The time expir’d, bruitiſh remains no more,

But Goverment reſumes as heretofore:

In ſplendor, and iun Majeſty he ſits,

Contemplating thoſe times he loſt his witts.

F4 And F4v 88

And if by words we may gheſs at the heart,

This king among the righteous had a part:

Fourty four years he reign’d, which being run,

He left his wealth and conqueſts to his ſon.


Babels great Monarch now laid in the duſt,

His ſon poſſeſſes wealth and rule as juſt:

And in the firſt year of his Royalty

Eaſeth Jehojakims Captivity:

Poor forlorn Prince, one wordflawed-reproduction had all ſtate forgot

In ſeven and thirty years had ſeen no jot.

Among the conquer’d Kings that there did ly

Is Judah’s King now lifted up on hight:

But yet in Babel he muſt ſtill remain,

And native Canaan never ſee again:

Unlike his Father Evilmerodach,

Prudence and magnanimity did lack;

Fair Egypt is by his remiſneſs loſt,

Arabia, and al lthe bordering coaſt.

Warrs with the Medes unhappily he wag’d

(Within whihc broyles rich Crœſus was ingag’d)

His Army routed, and himſelf there ſlain:

His Kingdome to Belſhazzar did remain.


Unworthy Belſhazzar next wears the crown,

Whoſe acts profane a ſacred Pen ſets down,

His luſt and crueltyes in ſtoryes find,

A royal State rul’d by a bruitiſh mind.

His F5r 89

His life ſo baſe and diſſolute invites

The noble Perſian to invade his rights.

Who with his own, and Uncles power anon,

Layes ſiedge to’s Regal Seat, proud Bathree lettersflawed-reproductionn,

The coward King whoſe ſtrength lay in his walls,

To banquetting and revelling now falls,

To ſhe his little dread, but greater ſtore,,

To chear his friends and ſcorn his foes the more.

The holy veſſels thither brought long ſince,

They carrows’d in and ſacrilegious prince

Did praiſe his Gods of mettal, wood, and ſtone,

Protectors of his Crown, and Babylon,

But he above, his doings did deride,

And with a hand ſoon daſhed all this pride.

The King upon the wall caſting his eye,

The fingers of a hand writing did ſpy,

Which horrid ſight he fears muſt needs portend

Dſtruction to his Crown to s Perſon end.

With quaking knees, and heart appall’d he cries,

For the Soothſayers, and Magicians wiſe;

This language ſtrange to read, and to unfold;

With gifts of Scarlet robe and Chain of gold,

And higheſt dignity next to the King,

To him that could interpret, clear this thing:

But dumb the gazing Aſtrologers ſtand,

Amazed at the writing, and the hand.

None anſwers the affrighted Kings intent,

Who ſtill expects ſome fearful ſad event,

As dead, alive he ſits, as one undone:

In comes the Queen, to chear her heartleſs Son.

Of F5v 90

Of Daniel tells, who in his grand ſires dayes

Was held in more account then now he was.

Daniel in haſte is brought before the King,

Who doth not flatter, nor once cloak the thing;

Reminds him of his Grand-Sires height and fall,

And of his own notorious ſins withall,:

His Drunkenneſs, an dhis profaneſs high,

His pride and ſottiſh groſs Idolatry.

The guilty King with colour pale and dead

Thn hears his Mine and his Tekel read.

And one thing did worthy a King (though late)

Perform’d his word to him that told his fate.

That night victorious Cyrus took the town,

Who ſoon did terminate his life and crown;

With him did end the race of Baladan:

And now the Perſian Monarch began.

The End of the Aſſyrian Monarchy
The F6r

The Second Monarchy, being the Perſian, began under Cyrus, Darius being his Uncle and Father-in-law reigned with him about two years.

Cyrus Cambyſes Son of Perſia King,

Whom Lady Mandana did to him bring,

She daughter unto great Aſtiages,

He in deſcent the ſeventh from Arbaces.

Cambyſes was of Achemenes race,

Who had in Perſia the Lieftenants place

When Sardanapalus was overthrown,

And from that time had held it as his won.

Cyrus, Darius Daughter took to wife,

And ſo unites two Kingdomes without ſtrife.

Darius unto Mandana was brother.

Adopts her ſson for his having no other.

This is of Cyrus the true pedegree,

Whoſe Anceſtors were royal in degree

His Mothers dream and Grand-Sires cruelty,

His preſervation, in his miſery,

His nouriſhment afforded by a Bitch,

Are fit for ſuch whoſe ears for Fables itch.

He F6v 92

He in his younger dayes an Army led,

Againſt great Creſſus then of Lidia head;

Who over-curious of wars event,

For information to Apollo went:

And the ambiguous Oracle did truſt,

So overthrown by Cyrus, as was juſt;

Who him puarſues to Sardis takes the Town,

Where all that dare reſiſt, are ſlaughter’d down;

Diſguiſed Creſſus hop’d to ſcape i’th’ throng,

Who had no might to ſave himſelf from wrong;

But as he paſt, his Son who was born dumb,

With preſſing grief and ſorrow overcome:

Among the tumult, bloud-ſhed, and the ſtrife.

Brake his long ſilence, cry’d, ſpare Creſſus life.

Creſſus thus known, it was great Cyrus doom,

(A hard decree) to aſhes he conſume;

Then on a wood pile ſet where all might eye,

He Solon, Solon, Solon thrice did cry.

The Reaſon of thoſe words Cyrus demands,

Who Solon was? to whom he lifts his hands;

Then to the King he makes this true report,

That Solon ſometimes at his ſtately Court,

His Treaſures pleaſures pomp and power dfid ſee,

And viewing all, at all nought mov’d was he:

That Creſſus angry, urg’d him to expreſs,

If ever King equal’d his happineſs.

(Quoth he) that man for happy we commend,

Whoſe happy life attains an happy end.

Cyrus with pitty mov’d knowing Kings ſtand,

Now up and down, as fortune turns her hand,

Weighing F7r 93

Weighing the Age, and greatneſs of the Prince,

(His Mothers Uncle) ſtories do evince:

Gave him his life, and took him for a friend,

Did to him ſtill his chief deigns commend.

Next war the reſtleſs Cyrus thought upon,

Was conqueſt of the ſtately Babilon.

Now treble wall’d, and moated ſo about,

That all the world they need not fear nor doubt;

To drain this ditch, he many Sluces cut,

But till convenient time their heads kept ſhut;

That night Belſhazzar feaſted all his rout,

He cut thoſe banks, and let the River out,

And to the walls ſecurely marches on,

Not finding a defendant thereupon;

Enters the Town, the ſottiſh King he ſtayes,

Upon Earths richeſt ſpoyles his Souldiers preyes;

Here twenty years proviſion good he found,

Forty five miles this City ſcarce could round;

This head of Kingdomes Chaldees excellence,

For Owles and Satyres made a reſidence,

Yet wondrous monuments this ſtately Queen,

A thouſand years had after to be ſeen.

Cyrus doth now the Jewiſh Captives free

An edict made, the Temple builded be,

He with his Uncle Daniel ſets on high,

And caus’d his foes in Lions Den to dye.

Long after this he ’gainſt the Scythians goes,

And Tomris Son and Army overthrows;

Which to revenge ſhe hires a mighty power,

And ſets on Cyrus, in a fatal hour;

There F7v 94

There routs his Hoſt, himſelf ſhe priſoner takes,

And at one blow (worlds head) ſhe headleſs makes

The which ſhe bath’d, within a But of bloud,

Uſing ſuch taunting words, as ſhe thought good.

But Xenophon reports he di’d in’s bed,

And in his Town of Raſſagardes lyes,

Whereſome long after ſought in vain for prize,

But in his Tombe, was only to be found

Two Scythian boys, a Sword and Target round:

And Alexander coming to the ſame,

With honours great, did celebrate his fame.

Three daughers and two Sones he left behind,

Innobled more by birth, then by their mind;

Thirty two years in all this Prince did reign,

But eight whilſt Babylon he did retain:

And though his conqueſts made the earth to groan,

Now quiet lyes under one marble ſtone.

And with an Epitaph, himſelf did make,

To ſhew how little Land he then ſhould take.


Cambyſes nowayes like his noble Sire,

Yet to inlarge his State had ſome deſire,

His reign with bloud and Inceſt firſt begins,

Then ſends to find a Law, for theſe his ſins;

That Kings with Siſters mathc, no Law they find,

But that the Perſian King may act his mind:

He wages war the fifth year of his reign,

’Gainſt Egypts King, who there by him was ſlain.

and F8r 95

And all of Royal Bloud, that came to hand,

He ſeized firſt of Life and then of Land,

(But littel Narus ſcap’d that cruel fate,

Who grown a man, reſum’d again his State.)

He next to Cyprus ſends his bloudy Hoſt

Who landing ſoon upon that fruitful Coaſt,

Made Evelthon their King with bended knee,

To hold his own, of his free Courteſie.

Their Temple he deſtroys, not for his Zeal,

For he would be profeſt, God of their weal:

Yea in his pride, he ventured ſo farre,

To ſpoyle the Temple of great Jupiter:

But as they marched o’re thoſe deſert ſands,

The ſtormed duſt o’rewhlm’d his daring bands;

But ſcorning thus, by Jove to be outbrav’d,

A ſecond Army he ahd almoſt grav’d,

But vain he found to fight with Elements,

So left his ſacrilegious bold intents

The Egyptian Apu then he likewiſe ſlew,

Laughing to ſcorn, that ſottiſh Calviſh Crew:

If all this heat had been for pious end,

Cambyſes to the Clouds we might commend.

But he that ’fore the Gods himſelf prefers,

Is more profane then groſs Idolaters,

He after this , upon ſuſpition vain,

Unjuſtly cauſ’d his brother to be ſlain.

Praxaſpes into Perſia then is ſent,

To act in ſecret, this his lewd intent:

His Siſter (whom Inceſtuouſly he wed,)

Hearing her harmleſs brother thus was dead.

His F8v 96

His wofull death with tears did ſo bemoan,

That by her husbands charge, ſhe caught her own,

She with her fruit at once were both undone

Who would have born a Nephew and a ſon.

Oh helleſh husband, brother, uncle, Sire,

Thy cruelty all ages will admire.

This ſtrange ſeverity he ſometimes us’d

Upon a Judge, for taking bribes accus’d

Flay’d him alive, hung up his ſtuffed skin

Over his ſeat, then plac’d his ſon therein,

To whom he gave this in remembrance,

Like fault muſt look for the like recompence.

His cruelty was come unto that height

He ſpar’d nor foe, nor friend, nor favourite.

’Twould be no pleaſure, but a tedious thing

To tell the facts of this moſt bloody King,

Feared of all, but lovd of few or none,

All wiſht his ſhort reign paſt before ’twas done.

At laſt two of his Officers he hears

Had ſet one Smerdis up, of the ſame years,

And like in feature to his brother dead,

Ruling, as they thought beſt under this head.

The people ignorant of what was done,

Obedience yielded as to Cyrus ſon.

Toucht with this news to Perſia he makes

But in the way his ſword juſt vengeance takes,

Unſheathes, as he hhis horſe mounted on high

And with a mortal thruſt wounds him ith’ thigh,

Which ends before begun his home-bred warr:

So yi8elds to death, that dreadfull Conquerour.

His G1r 97

Grief for his brothers death he did expreſs,

And more, becauſe he died Iſſueleſs.

The male line of great Cyrus now had end,

The Female to many Ages did extend.

A Babylon in Egypt did he make,

And Meroe built for his fair Siſters ſake.

Eight years he reign’d, a ſhort, yet too long time

Cut off in’t wickedneſs in’s ſtrength and prime.

The inter regnum between Cambyſes And Darius Hiſtaſpes.

Childeſs Cambyſes on the ſudden dead,

(The Princes meet, to chuſe one in his ſtead,

Of which the chief was ſeven , call’d Satrapes,

Who like to Kings, rul’d Kingdomes as they pleaſe,

Deſcended all of Achemenes bloud,

And Kinſmen in accoiunt to th’ King they ſtood.

And firſt theſe noble Magi ’gree upon.

To thruſt th’d impoſter Smerdis out of Throne:

Then Forces inſtantly they raiſe, and rout

This King with his Conſpirators ſo ſtout,

But yet ’fore this was done much bloud was ſhed,

And two of theſe great Peers in Field lay dead.

Some write that ſorely hurt they ſcap’d away,

But ſo, or no, ſure ’tis they won the day.

All things in peace and Rebels throughly quell’d,

A Conſultation by thoſe States was held,

What form of government now to erect

The old, or new, which beſt in what reſpect.

G The G1v 98

The greater part declin’d a Monarchy

So late cruſht by their Princes tyranny,

And thought the people would more happy be

If govern’d by an Ariſtocracy:

But others thought (none of the dulleſt braain)

That better one then many tyrants reign.

What Arguments they usd I know not well,

Too politick, its like, for me to tell,

But in concluſion they all agree

Out of the ſeven a Monarch choſen be.

All envy to avoid, this was thought on

Upon a green to meet by riſing ſun,

And he whoſe horſe before the reſt ſhould neigh,

Of all the Peers ſhould have precedency.

They all attend on the appointed hour,

Praying to fortune for a kingly power.

Then mounting on their ſnorting courſers proud,

Darius luſty Stallion neigh’d full loud.

The Nobles all alight, bow to their King,

And joyfull acclamations ſhrill they ring

A thouſand times, long live the King they cry,

Let Tyranny with dead Cmbuſes dye:

Then all attend him to his royall room:

Thanks for all this to’d crafty ſtable-groom.

Dariius Hyſtaſpes.

Darius by election made a King,

His title to make ſtrong omits no thing:

He two of Cyrus daughters then doth wed,

Two of his Neeces takes to Nuptial bed,

By G2r 99

By which he cuts their hopes for future time,

That by ſuch ſteps to Kingdomes often clime.

And now a King by mariage choice and blood:

Three ſtrings to’s bow the leaſt of which is good;

Yet firmly more, the peoples hearts to bind.

Made wholſome, gentle laws which pleas’d each mind.

His courteſie and affability.

Much gain’d the hearts of his nobility.

Yet notwithſtanding all he did ſo well,

The Babylonians ’gainſt their prince rebell.

An hoſt he rais’d the city to reduce;

But men againſt thoſe walls were of no uſe.

Then brave Zopirus for his maſters good,

His manly face diſfigures, ſpares no blood:

With his own hands cutts off his ears and noſe,

And with a faithfull fraud to th’ town he goes,

tells them how harſhly the proud king had dealt,

That for their ſakes his cruelty he felt,

Deſiring of the Prince to raiſe the ſiege,

This told, for entrance he ſtood not long;

For they believ’d his noſe mor then his tongue

With all the city’s ſtrength they him betruſt,

If he command, obey the greateſt muſt.

When opportunity he ſaw was fit

Delivers up the town, and all in it.

To loo a noſe, to win a town’s no ſhame,

But who dares venture ſuch a ſtake for th’ game

Then thy diſgrace, thine honour’s manifold,

Who doth deſerve a ſtatue made of gold.

G2 Nor G2v 100

Nor can Darius in his Monarchy,

Scarce find enought to thank thy l oyalty:

Yet o’re thy glory we muſt caſt this vail,

Thy craft more then thy valour did prevail.

Darius in the ſecond of his reign

And Edict for the Jews publiſhd again:

The Temple to rebuild, for that did reſt

Since Cyrus tyme, Cambiſes did moleſt/

He like a King now grants a Charter large,

Out of his own revennues bears the charge,

Gives Sacrifices, wheat, wine oyle and ſalt,

Threats puniſhment to him that through default

Shall let the work or keep back any thing

Of what is freely granted by the King:

And on Kings he poures our Execrations

That ſhall once dare to raſe thoſe firm foundatioins

They thus backt by the King, in ſpight of foes

Built on and proſper’d till their houſe they cloſe.

And in the ſixth year of his friendly reign,

Set up a Temple (though a leſs) again

Darius on the Scythians ma d a war,

Entring that larg and barren Country far:

A Bridge he made, whihc ſerv’d for boat & barge

O’re Iſter fair, with labour and with charge.

But in that deſert ’mongſt his barbarous foes

Sharp wants, not ſwords, his valour did oppoſe,

His Army fought with hunger and with cold,

Which to aſſail his royal Camp was bold.

By theſe alone his hoſt was pincht ſo ſore,

He warr’d defenſive, not offenſive more.

The G3r 101

The Salvages did laugh at his diſtreſs,

Their minds by Hiroglyphicks they expreſs,

A Frog a Mouſe, a bird, an arrow ſent,

The King will needs interpret their intent;

Poſſeſſion of water, earth and air.

But wiſe Gobias reads not half ſo fair:

(Quoth he) like frogs in water we muſt dive,

Or like to mice under the earth muſt live

Or fly like birds in un known wayes full quick,

Or Scythian arrows in our ſides muſt ſtick.

The King ſeeing his men and victual ſpent,

This fruitleſs war beg a late to repent,

Return’d with little honour, and leſs gain

His enemies ſcarce ſeen, then much leſs ſlain.

He after this intends Greece to invade,

But troubles in leſs Aſia him ſtaid,,

Which huſht he ſtraight ſo orders his affairs,

For Attaea an army he prepares;

But as before, ſo now with ill ſucceſs

Return’d with wondrous loſs, and honourleſs.

Athens perceiving now their deſperate ſtate

Arm’d all they could, which eleven thouſsand made

By brave Miltiades their chief being led:

Darius multitudes before them fled.

At Marathon this bloudy field was fought,

Where Grecians prov’d themſelves right ſouldiers ſtout

The Perſians to their gallies poſst with ſpeed

Where an Athenian ſhew’d a valiant deed,

Purſues his flying foes then on the ſand,

He ſtayes a lanching gally with his hand,

G3 Which G3v 102

Which ſoon cut off, inrag’d, he with his left,

Renews his hold, and when of that bereft,

His whetted teeth he claps in the firm wood,

Off flyes his head, down ſhowres his frolick bloud,

Go Perſians carry home that angry piece,

As the beſt Trophe which ye won in Greece,

Darius light, yet heavy home returns,

And for revenge, his heart ſtill reſtleſs burnes,

His Queen Atoſſa Author of this ſtirr,

For Grecian maids (’tis ſaid) to wait on her.

She loſt her aim, her Husband he loſt more,

His men his coyne, his honour and his ſtore

and the enſuing year ended his Life

(Tis thought, through grief of this ſucceſsleſs ſtrife)

Thirty ſix years this noble Prince did reign,

Then to his ſecond Sond did all remain.


Xerxes. Darius, and Atoſſa’s Son,

Grand child to Cyrus, now ſits on the Throne:

(His eldeſt brother put beſide the place,

Becauſe this was, firſt born of Cyrus race.)

His Father not ſo full of lenity,

As was his Son of pride and cruelty;

He with his Crown receives a double war,

The Egyptians to reduce, and Greece to marr,

The firſt begun, and finiſh’d in ſuch haſte,

None write by whom, nor how, ’twas over paſt.

But for the laſt, he made ſuch preparation,

As if to duſt, he meant, to grinde that nation;

Yet G4r 103

Yet all his men, and Inſtruments of ſlaughter,

Produced but deriſion and laughter,

Sage Artabanus Counſel had he taken,

And’s Couzen young Mardonius forſaken,

His Souldiers credit, wealth at home had ſtaid,

And Greece ſuch woundrous triumphs ne’r had made.

The firſt dehorts and layes before his eyes

His Fathers ill ſucceſs, in’s enterprize,

Againſt the Scythians and Grecians too,

What Infamy to’s honour did accrew.

Flatt’ring Mardonius on the other ſide,

With conqueſt of all Europe, feeds his pride:

Vain Xerxes thinks his counſel hath moſt wit,

That his ambitious humour beſt can fit;

And by this choice unwarily poſts on,

To preſent loſs, future ſubverſion.

Although he haſted, yet four years was ſpent

In great proviſions, for this great intent:

His Army of all Nations was compounded,

That the vaſt Perſian government ſurrounded.

His Foot was ſeventeen hundred thouſand ſtrong,

Eight hundred thouſadn horſe to theſe belong

His Camels, beaſts for carriage numberleſs,

For Truths aſham’d, how many to expreſs;

the charge of all, he ſeverally commended

To Princes, of the Perſian bloud deſcended:

But the command of theſe commanders all,

Unto Mardonius made their General,

(He was the Son of the fore nam’d Gobrius,

Who married the Siſter of Darius.)

G4 Such G4v 104

Such his land Forces were, then next a fleet,

Of two and twenty thouſand Gallies meet

Man’d with Phenicians and Pamphylsans

Cipriots, Dorians and Cilicians,

Lycians, Carians and Ionians,

Eolians an dteh Heleſpontines

Beſides the veſſels for his tranſportation,

Which to theree thouſand came (by beſt relations)

Brave Artemiſia, Hallicarnaſſus Queen

In perſon preſent for his aid was ſeen,

Whoſe Gallyes all the reſt in neatneſs paſs.

Save the Zidonians, where Xerxes was:

But hers ſhe kept ſtill ſeperate from the reſt,

For to command alone, ſhe judg’d was beſt.

O noble Queen, thy valour I commend;

But pitty ’twas thine aid thou here didſt lend.

At Sardis in Lydia, all theſe do meet,

Whether rich Pythias comes Xerxes to greet,

Feaſts all this multitudes of his own charge,

Then gives the King a king-like gift full large,

Three thouſand talents of the pureſt gold,

Which mighty ſum all wondred to behold:

Then humbly to the king he makes requeſt,

One of his five ſons there might be releas’d,

To be to’s age a comfort and a ſtay,

The other four he freely gave away.

The king clls for the youth, who being brought,

Cuts him in twain for whom his Sire beſought,

Then laid his parts on both ſides of the way,

’Twixt which his ſouldiers marcht in good array.

For G5r 105

For his great love is this thy recompence?

\Is this to do like Xerxes or a Prince?

Thou ſhame of kings, of men the deteſtation,

I Rhetorick want to pour out execration.

Firſt thing he did that’s worthy of recount,

A Sea paſſage cut behind Athos mount.

Next o’re the Heleſpont a bridge he made

Of Boats together coupled, and there laid:

But winds and waves thoſe iron bands did break,

To croſs the ſea ſuch ſtrength he found too weak,

Then whips the ſea, and with a mind moſt vain

He fetters caſt therein the ſame to chain.

The work-men put to death the bridge that made,

Becauſe thy wanted skill the ſame to’ve ſtaid.

Seven thouſend Gallyes chaind by Tyrians skill,

Firmly at laſt accompliſhed his will.

Seven dayes and nights, his hoſt without leaſst ſtay

Was marching o’re this new deviſed way.

Then in Abidus plains muſtring his forces,

He gloryes in his ſquadrons and his horſes,

Long viewing them, thought it great happineſs,

One king ſo many ſubjects ſhould poſſeſs:

But yet this ſight from him produced tears,

That none of thoſe could live an hundred years.

What after did enſue had he foreſeen,

Of ſo long time his thoughts had never been.

Of Artubanus he again demands

How of the enterpriſe his thoughts now ſtands,

His anſwer was, both ſea and land he fear’d,

Which was not vain as after ſoon appear’d.

But G5v 106

But Xerxes reſolute to Thrace goes firſt,

His Hoſt all Liſſus drinks, to quench their thirſt;

And for his Cattel, all Pſſyrus Lake

Was ſcarce enough for each a draught to take:

Then marching on to th’ ſtreight Termopyle,

The Spartan meets him brave Leonade;

This ’twixt the mountains lyes (half Acre wide)

That pleaſant Theſſaly from Greece divide

Two dayes and nights, a ſight they there maintain,

Till twenty thouſand Perſians fell down ſlain,

And all that Army then diſmaid, had fled,

But that a Fugitive diſcovered.

How ſome might o’re the mountains go about,

And wound the backs of thoſe brave warriors ſtout

They thus behem’d with multitude of Foes,

Laid on more fiercely their deep mortal blows.

None cries for quarter nor yet ſeeks to run;

But on their ground they dies each Mothers Son.

O noble Greeks, how now degenerate,

Where is the valour of your ancient State?

When as one thouſand could a million daunt,

Alas! it is Leonadis you want.

This ſhameful victory coſt Xerxes dear,

Among the reſt, two brothers he loſt there;

And as at Land, ſo he at Sea was croſt,

Four hundred ſtately Ships by ſtorms was loſt;

Of Veſſels ſmall almoſt innumerable,

The Harbours to contain them not one wordflawed-reproduction

Yet thinking to out match his Foes at Stwo lettersflawed-reproduction

Encloſ’d their fleet o’th’ ſtreight of Euapproximately three lettersflawed-reproduction

Who G6r 107

But they as fortunate at Sea as Land,

In this ſtreight as the other firmly ſtand.

And Xerxes mighty Galleys battered ſo.

That their ſplit ſides witneſſd his overthrow;

then iin the ſtreight of Salamis he try’d,

If that ſmall number his great force could ’bide:

But he in daring of his forward Foe,

Received there a ſhameful overthrow.

Twice beaten thus at Sea he warr’d no more,

But then the Phocians Country waſted fore;

They no way able to withſtand his force,

That brave Themiſtocles takes his wiſe courſe,

In ſecret manner word to Xerxes ſends,

That Greeks to break his Bridg ſhortly intends:

And as a friend warns him what e’re he do

For his Retreat, to have an eye thereto,

He hearing this, his thoughts & courſe home bended

Much fearing that whihc never was intended.

Yet ’fore he wnt to help out his expence

Part of his Hoſt to Delphos ſent from thence,

To rob the wealthy Temple of Apollo,

But miſchief ſacriledge doth ever follow.

Two mighty Rocks brake from Parnaſſus hill,

And many thouſands of thoſe men did kill;

Which accident the reſt affrighted ſo,

With empty hands they to their Maſter go:

He finding all, to tend to his decay,

Fearing his Bridge, no longer there would ſtay.

Three hundred thouſand yet he left behind,

With his Mardonius Index of his mind;

Who G6v 108

Who for his ſake he knew would venture farre,

(Chief inſtigator of this hapleſs warr.)

He inſtantly to Athens ſends for peace,

That all Hoſttility from thence forth ceaſe,

And that with Xerxes they would be at one,

So ſhould all facour to their State be ſhown.

The Spartans fearing Athens would agree,

As had Macedon, Thebes, and Theſſaly,

And leave them out, this Shock now to ſuſtain,

By their Ambaſſador they thus complain,

That Xerxes quarrel was ’gainſt Athens State,

And they had helpt them as Confederate;

If in their need they ſhould forſake their friends,

Their infamy would laſt till all things ends:

But the Athenians this peace deteſt,

And thus reply’d unto Mardon’s requeſt.

That wilſt the Sund did run his endleſs Courſe

Againſt the Perſians, they would bend their force;

Nor could the brave Ambaſſador he ſent,

With Rhetorick gain better Complement:

A Macedonian born, and great Commander,

No leſs then grand Sier to great Alexander

Mardonius proud hearing this Anſwer ſtout,

To add more to his numbers layes about;

And of thoſe Greeks which by his Skill he’d won,

He fifty thouſand joyns unto his own:

The other Greeks which were Confederate

In all one hundred and ten thouſand made.

The Athenians could but forty thouſand Arme,

The reſt had weapons would do little ham;

But G7r 109

But that which helpt defects and make them bold,

Was victory by Oracle foretold.

Then for one battel ſhortly all provede;

Where both their Controverſies they’d decide;

Ten dayes theſe Armyes did each other face,

Mardonius finding victuals waſt apace,

No hunger dar’d but bravely on-ſet gave,

The other not a hand nor Sword would wave,

Till in the intrails of their Sacrifice

The ſignal of their victory did riſe,

Which ſound like Greeks they fight, the Perſians ly,

And troubleſome Mardonius now muſt dye.

All’s loſt, and of three hundred thouſand men,

Three thouſand only can run home agen.

For pitty let thoſe few to Xerxes go.

To certifie his final overthrow:

Same day the ſmall remainder of his Fleet,

The Grecians at Mycale in Aſia meet.

And there ſo utterly they wrackt the ſame,

Scarce one was left to carry home the Fame;

Thus did the Greeks conſume deſtroy, and diſperſe

That Army, which did fright the Univerſe.

Scorn’d Xerxes hated for his cruelty,

Yet ceaſes not to act his villany.

His brothers wife ſolicites to his will,

The chaſt and beautious Dame refuſed ſtill;

Some years by him in this vain ſuit was ſpent,

Nor prayers, nor gifts could win him leaſt content

Nor matching of her daughter to his Son,

But ſhe was ſtill as when he firſt begun:

When G7v 110

When jealous Queen Ameſtris of this knew,

She Harpy like upon the Lady flew,

Cut off her breaſts her lips her noſe and ears,

And leavs her thus beſmear’d in bloud and tears.

Straight comes her Lord, and finds his wife thus ly,

The ſorrow of his heart did cloſe his Eye,

He dying to behold that wounding ſight,

Where he had ſometime gaz’d with great delight,

To ſee that face where roſe, and Lillyes ſtood,

O’re flown with Torrent of her guiltleſs bloud,

To ſee thoſe breaſts where Chaſtity did dwell,

Thus cut and mangled by a Hag of Hell:

With loaden heart unto the King he goes,

Tells as he could his unexpreſſed woes;

But for his deep complaints and ſhowres of tears,

His brothers recompence was nought but jears:

The grieved prince finding nor right, nor love,

To Bactria his houſhold did remove,

His brother ſent ſoon after him a crew,

With him and his moſt barbarouſly there ſlew:

Unto ſuch height did grow his cruelty,

Of life no man had le3aſt ſecurity.

At laſt his Uncle did his death conſpire,

and for that end his Eunuch he did hire;

Who privately him ſmother’d in his bed,

But yet by ſearch he was found murthered;

Then Artabanus hirere of this deed,

That from ſuſpition he might be fre’d.

Accus’d Darius Xerxes eldeſt Son,

To be the Author of the crime was done.

And G8r 111

And by his craft order’d the matter ſo

That the Prince innocent to death did goe:

But in ſhort time this wickedneſs was known,

For which he died, and not he alone,

But all his Family was likewiſe ſlain:

Such Juſtice in the Perſian Court did reign.

The eldeſt ſon thus immaturely dead

The ſecond was inthron’d in’s fathers ſstead.

Artaxerxes Longimanus.

Amongſt the Monarchs, next this prince had place

The beſt that ever ſprung of Cyrus race.

He firſt war with revolted Egypt made,

To whom the perjur’d Grecians lent their aid:

Although to Xerxes they not long before

A league of amity ahad firmly ſwore,

Which had they kept, Greece had more nobly done

Then when the world they after overrun.

Greeks and Egyptians both he overthrows,

And payes them both according as he owes,

Which done a ſumptuous feaſt makes like a king

Where nineſcore dayes are ſpent in banquetting.

His Princes, Nobles and his Captains calls,

To be partakers of theſe Feſtivals:

His hangings white and green, and purple dye,

With gold and ſilver beds, moſt gorgeouſly.

The royal wine in golden cups did paſs,

To drink more then he liſt, none bidden was.

Queen Vaſthi alſo feaſts, but ’fore tis ended,

She’s from her Royalty (alas) ſuſpended,

And G8v 112

And one more worthy placed in her room,

By Memncans advice ſo was the doom

What Eſther was and did, the ſtory read,

And how her Country men from ſpoyle ſhe freed,

Of Hamans fall, and Mordicaes great Riſe

The might of th’ prince, the tribute of the Iſles.

Good Ezra in the ſeventh year of his reign,

Did for the Jews commiſſion large obtain,

With gold and ſilver, and what ere they need:

His bounty did Darius far exceed.

And Nehemiah in his twentieth year;

Went to Jeruſalem his city dear,

Rebuilt thoſe walls which long in rubbiſh lay,

And o’re his oppoſites ſtill got the day,

Unto this King Temiſtocles did fly,

When under Oſtraciſme he did lye:

For ſuch ingratitude did Athens ſhow,

(This valiant Knight whom they ſo much did owe)

Such royal bounty from his prince he found,

That in his loyalty his heart was bound.

The king not little joyfull of this chance,

Thinking his Grecian warrs now to advance,

And for that end great preparation made

Fair Attica a third time to invade.

His grand Sires old diſgrace did vex him ſore

His Father Xerxes loſs and ſhame much more,

For puniſhment their breach of oath did call

This noble Greek, now fit for General.

Proviſions then and ſeaſon being fit,

To Themiſtocles this warr he doth commit,

Who H1r 113

Who for his wrong he could not chuſe but deem

His Country nor his Friends would much eſteem:

But he all injury had ſoon forgat;

And to his native land could bear no hate,

Nor yet diſloyal to his Prince would prove,

By whom oblig’d by bounty, and by love;

Either to wrong, did wound his heart ſo ſore,

To wrong himſelf by death he choſe before:

In this ſad conflict marching on his wayes.

Strong poyſon took, ſo put an end to’s dayes,

The King this noble Captain having loſt,

Diſperſt again his neeeewly levied hoſt:

Reſt of his time in peace he did remain,

And di’d the two and forti’th of his reign.

Darius Nothus.

Three ſons great Artaxerxes left behind;

The eldeſt to ſucceed, that was his mind:

His ſecond Brother with him fell at ſtrife,

Stil making war, till firſt had loſt his life:

Then the Surviver is by Nothus ſlain,

Who now ſole Monarch doth of all remain.

The firſt ſons (are by Hiſtorians thought)

By fair Queen Eſther to he rhusband brought:

If ſo they were the greater was her moan,

That for ſuch graceleſs wretchees ſhe did groan.

Revolting Egypt ’gainſt this King rebels,

His Gariſons drives out that ’mongſt them dwells,

Joyns with the Greeks, and ſo maintain their right

For ſixty years, maugre the Perſians might.

H A ſe- H1v 114

A ſecond trouble after this ſucceeds,

Which from remiſsneſs in Tels Aſi breeds.

Amoges, whom for Vice-Roy he ordain’d,

Revolts, treaſure and people having gain’d,

Plunders the Country, & much miſchief wrought

Beofre things could to quietneſs be brought

The King was glad with Sparta to make peace,

That ſo he might thoſe troubles ſoon appeaſe:

But they in Aſia muſt firſt reſtore

All towns held by his Anceſtors before.

The King much profit reaped by this league,

Regains his own, then doth the Rebel break

Whoſe ſtrength by Grecians help was overthrown,

And ſo each man again poſſeſt his own.

This King Cambiſes like his ſiſter wed.

To which his pride, more then his luſt him led:

For Perſian Kings then deem’d themſelves ſo good

No match was high enough but their own blood.

Two ſons ſhe bore, the youngeſt Cyrus nam’d,

A Prince whoſe worth by Xenephon is fam’d:

His Father would no nothice of that take

Prefers his brother for his birthrights ſake.

But Cyrus ſcorns his brothers feeble wit,

And takes more on him then was judged fit.

The King provoked ſends for him to th’ Court,

Meaning to chaſtiſe him in ſharpeſt ſort

But in his ſlow approach, e’re he came there

His Father di’d, ſo put an end to’s fear.

’Bout nineteen years this Nothus reigned, which run

His large Dominions left to’d eldeſt Son.

Artaxerxes H2r 115

Antaxerxes Mnemon.

Mnemon now ſet upon his Fathers Throne,

Yet fears all he enjoys, is not his own:

Still on his Brother caſts a jealous eye,

Judging his actions tends to’s injury.

Cyrus on th’ other ſide weighs in his mind,

What help in’s enterprize he’s like to find;

His Intereſt in th’s Kingdome now next heir,

More dear to’s Mother then his brother farr:

His brothers little love like to be gone,

Held by his Mothers Interceſſion.

Theſe and like motives hurry him amain,

To win by force, what right could not obtain;

And thought it beſt now in his Mothers time,

By lower ſteps towards the top to climbe:

If in his enterprize he ſhould fall ſhort,

She to the King would make a fair report,

He hop’d if fraud nor force the Crown would gain

Her prevalence, a pardon might obtain.

From the Lieutenant firſt he takes away

Some Towns, commodious in leſs Aſia,

Pretending ſtill the profit of the King.

Whoſe Rents and Cuſtomes dulty he ſent in;

Teh King finding Revenues now amended,

Then next he takes the Spartans into pay.

One Greek could make ten Perſians run away.

Great eare was his pretence thoſe Souldiers ſtout,

The Rovers in Pſidia ſhould drive out;

H2 But H2v 116

But leſt ſome blacker news ſhould fly to Court,

Prepares himſelf to carry the report:

And for that end five hundred Horſe he choſe;

With poſting ſpeed on t’wards the king he goes:

But fame more quick, arrives ere he comes there,

And fills the Court with tumult, and with fear.

The old Queen and th young at bitter jarrs,

The laſt accus’d the firſt for theſe ſ warrs,

The wife againſt the mother ſtill doth cry

To be the Author of conſpiracy.

The King diſmaid, a might hoſt doth raiſe,

Which Cyrus hears, and ſo foreſlows his pace:

But as he goes his forces ſtill augments,

Seven hundred Greeks repair for his in ns,

And others to be wwarm’d by this new fun

In numbers from his brother dayly run.

The fearfull King at laſt muſters his forces.

And counts nine hundred thouſand Foot & horſes

Three hundred thouſand he to one wordflawed-reproduction ſent

To keep thoſe ſtreights his brother to prevent.

Their Captain hearing but of Cyrus name,

Forſook his charge to his eternal ſhame.

This place ſo made by nature and by art,

Few might have kept it had tehy had a heart.

Cyrus diſpair’d a paſſage there to gain

So hir’d a fleet to waft him o’re the Main:

The ’mazed King was then about to fly

To Bactria and for a time there lye.

Had not his Captains ſore againſt his will

By reaſon and by force detain’d him ſtill,

Up H3r 11117

Up then with ſpeed a might trench he throws

For his ſecurity againſt his foes

Six yards the depth and forty miles in length,

Some fifty or elſe ſixty foot in breadth;

Yet for his brothers coming durſt not ſtay,

He ſafeſt was when fartheſt out of the way.

Cyrus finding his camp and no man there,

Was not a littel jocund at his fear.

On this hea nd his ſouldiers careleſs grow,

And here and there in carts their arms they throw

When ſuddenly their ſcouts come in and cry,

Arm, Arm, the King with all his hoſt is nigh.

In this confuſion each man as he might

Gets on his arms, arrayes himſelf for figth,

And ranged ſtood by great Euphrates ſide

The brunt of that huge multitude to ’bide,

Of whoſe great numbers their intelligence

Was gather’d by the duſt that roſe from thence,

Which like a mighty cloud darkned the dky,

And black and blacker grew, as they drew nigh:

But when their order and their ſilence ſaw,

That, more then multitudes their hearts did awe;

For tumult and confuſion they expected,

And all good diſcipline to be neglected.

But long under theeir fears they did not ſtay,

For at firſt charge the Perſians ran away,

Which did ſuch courage to the Grecians bring,

They all adored Cyrus for their King:

So had be been, and got the victory,

Had not his too much valour put him by.

H3 He H3v 118

He with ſix hundred on a Squadron ſet,

Of thouſands ſix wherein the King was yet,

And brought his souldiers on ſo gallantly,

They ready were to leave their King and fly;

Whom Cyrus ſpies cryes loud, I ſee the man,

And with a full carreer at him he ran:

And in his ſpeed a dart him hit i’th’ eye,

Down Cyrus falls, end yields to deſtiny:

His Hoſt in chaſe knows not of this diſaſter,

But treads down all, ſo to advance their maſter;

But when his head they ſpy upon a Lance,

Who knows the ſudden change made by this chance

Senſeleſs & mute they ſtand, yet breath out groans;

Nor Gorgons head like this transform’d to ſtones.

After this trance, revenge new Spirits blew,

And now more eagerly their Foes purſue;

And heaps on heaps ſuch multitudes they laid,

Their Arms grew weary by their ſlaughters made.

The King unto a Country Village flyes,

And for a while unkningly there he lyes.

At laſt diſplays his Enſigne on a Hill,

Hoping by that to make the Greeks ſtand ſtill;

But was deceiv’d to him they run amain,

The King upon the ſpur runs back again:

But they too faint ſtill to purſue their game,

Being Victors oft now to their Camp they came.

nor lackt they any of their number ſmall,

Nor wound receiv’d, but one among them all:

The King with his diſperſt, alſo incamp’d,

With Infamy upon each Forehead ſtamp’d.

His H4r 119

His hurri’d thoughts he after recollects,

Of this dayes Cowardize he fears th’ effects.

If Greeks in their own Country ſhould declare,

What daſtards in the Field the Perſians are.

They in ſhort time might place one in his Throne

And rob him both of Scepter and of Crown;

To hinder their return by craft or force

He judg’d his wiſeſt and his ſafeſt Courſe.

The ſends, that to his Tent, they ſtreight addreſs,

and there all wait, his mercy weaponleſs;

The Greeks with ſcorn reject his proud Commands

Asking no favour, where they fear’d no bands:

The troubled King his Herald ſends again.

And ſues for peace, that they his friends remain,

The ſmiling Greeks reply, they firſt muſt bait,

They were too hungry to Capitulate;

Theh King great ſtore of allproviſion ſends,

And Courteſie to th’ utmoſt he pretends,

Such terrour on the Perſians then did fall,

They quak’d to hear them to each other call.

The King perplext, there dares not let them ſtay

And fears as much, to let them march away,

But Kings ne’re want ſuch as can ſervve their will,

Fit Inſtruments t’accompliſh what is ill.

As Tyſſaphernes knowing his maſters mind,

Their chief Commanders feaſts and yet more kind,

With all the Oaths and deepeſt Flattery,

Gets them to treat with him in privacy,

But violates his honour and his word,

And Villain like there puts them all to th’ Sword.

H4 The H4v 120

The Greeks ſeeing their valiant Captains ſlain,

Choſe Xenophon to lead them home again:

But Tiſſaphernes what he could deviſe,

Did ſtop the way in this their enterprize.

But when through difficulties all they brake,

The Country burnt, they no relief might take.

But on they march through hunger & through cold

O’re mountains, rocks and hills as lions bold,

Nor Rivers courſe, nor Perſians force could ſtay,

But on to Trabeſond they kept their way:

There was of Greeks ſetled a Colony,

Who after all receiv’d them joyfully.

Thus finiſhing their travail, danger, pain,

In peace they ſaw their native ſoyle again.

the Greeks now (as the Perſian king ſuſpects)

The Aſiaticks cowardize detects,

The many victoryes themſelves did gain,

The many thouſand Perſians they had ſlain,

And how their nation with facillity,

Might gain the univerſal Monarchy.

They then Dercilladus ſend with an hoſt,

Who with the Spartans on the Aſian coaſt,

Town after town with ſmall reſiſtance take,

Which rumour makes great Artaxerxes quake.

The Greeks by this ſucceſs encourag’d ſo,

Their King Ageſilans doth over goe,

By Tiſſaphernes is encountered,

Lieftenant to the King, but ſoon he fled.

Which overthrow incens’d the King ſo ſore,

That Tiſſaphern muſt be Viceroy no more.

Tithrau- H5r 121

Tythrauſtes then is placed in his ſtead,

Commiſſion hath to take the others head:

Of that perjurious wretch this was the fate,

Whom the old Queen did bear a mortal hate.

Tythrauſtes truſts more to his wit then Arms,

And hopes by craft to quit his Maſters harms;

He knows that many Towns in Greece envyes

The Spartan State, which now ſo faſt did riſe;

To them he thirty thouſand Tallents ſent

With ſuit, their Arms againſt their Foes be bent;

They to their diſcontent receiving hire,

With broyles and quarrels ſets all Greece on fire:

Ageſilaus is call’d home with ſpeed,

To defend, more then offend, there was need,

Their winnings loapproximately two lettersflawed-reproduction and peace their glad to take

On ſuch conditions as the King will make.

Diſſention in Greece continued ſo long,

Till many a Captain fell both wiſe and ſtrong

Whoſe courage nought but death could ever tame

’Mongſt theſe Epimanondas wants no fame,

Who had (as noble Raleigh doth evince)

All the peculiar virtues of a Prince;

But let us leave theſe Greeks to diſcord bent,

And turn to Perſia, as is pertinent.

The King from forreign parts now well at eaſe,

His home-bred troubles ſought how to appeaſe;

The two Queens by his means ſeem to abate,

Their former envy and invterate hate:

But the old Queen implacable in ſtrife,

By pyſon caus’d, the young one loſe her life.

The H5v 122

The King higly inrag’d doth hereupon

From Court exile her unto Babilon:

But ſhortly calls her home, her counſells prize.

(A Lady very wiciked but yet wiſe)

Then in voluptuouſneſs he leads his life,

And weds his daughter for a ſecond wife.

But long in eaſe and pleaſure did not lye,

His ſons ſore vext him by diſloyalty.

Such as would know at large his warrs and reign,

What troubles in his houſe he did ſuſtain,

His match inceſtuous curelties of th’ Queen,

His life may read in Plutarch to be ſeen.

Forty three years he rul’d, then turn’d to duſt,

A King nor good, nor valiant, wiſe nor juſt.

Dorius Ochus.

Ochus a wicked and Rebellious ſon

Succeeds in th’ throne in his father being gone.

Two of his brothers in his Fatheres dayes

(To his great grief) moſt ſubtilly he ſlayes:

And being King commands thoſe that remain,

Of brethren and of kindred to be ſlain.

Then raiſes forces, conquers Egypt land,

Which in rebellion ſixty years did ſtand:

And in the twenty third of’s cruel raign

Was by his Eunuch the proud Bagoas ſlain.

Arſa- H6r 123

Arſames or Arſes,

Arſames plac’d now in his fathers ſtead,

By him that late his father murthered.

Some write that Arſames was Ochus brother,

Inthron’d by Bagoas in the room of th’ other:

But why his brother ’fore his ſon ſucceeds

I can no reaſon give, ’cauſe none I read.

His brother, as tis ſaid, long ſince was ſlain,

And ſcarce a Nephew left that now might reign:

What acts he did time hath not now left pen’d,

But moſt ſuppoſe in him did Cyrus end,

Whoſe race long time had worne the diadem,

But now’s divolved to another ſtem.

Three years he reign’d, then drank of’s fathers cup

By the ſame Eunuch who firſt ſet him up.

Darius Codomanus.

Darius by this Bagoas ſet in throne,

(Complotter with him in the murther done)

And was no ſooner ſetled in his reign,

But Bagoas falls to’s practices agtain,

And the ſame ſauce had ſerved him no doubt,

But that his treaſon timely was found out.

And ſo this wertch (a puniſhment too ſmall)

Loſt but his life for horrid treaſons all.

This Cordomanus now upon the ſtage

Was to his Predeceſſors Chamber page

Some write great Cyrus line was notone wordflawed-reproduction run.

But from ſome daughter this new king was ſprung

If H6v 124

If ſo, or not, we cannot tell, but find

That ſeveral men will have their ſeveral mind;

Yet in ſuch differences we may be bold,

With learned and judicious ſtill to hold;

And this ’mongſt all’s no Controverred thing,

That this Darius was laſt Perſian King.

Whoſe Wars, and loſſes we may better tell,

In Alexander’s reign who did him quell,

How from the top of worlds felicity,

He fell to depth of greateſt miſery.

Whoſe honours, treaſures, pleaſures had ſhort ſtay,

One deluge came and ſwept them all away

And in the ſixth year of his hapleſs reign,

Of all did ſcarce his winding Sheet retain:

And laſt a ſad Cataſtrophe to end,

Him to the grave did Traitor Beſſus ſend.

The End of the Perſian Monarchy.
The H7r 125

The Third Monarchy, being the Grecian, beginning under Alexander the Great in the 112. Olympiad.

Great Alexander was wiſe Philips ſon,

He to Amyntas, Kings of Macedon;

The cruel proud Olympias was his Mother,

She to Epirus warlike King was daughter.

This Prince (his father by Pauſanias ſlain)

The twenty firſt of’s age began to reign.

Great were the Gifts of nature which he had,

His education much to thoſe did adde:

By art and nature both he was made fit,

To ’compliſh that which long before was writ.

The very day of his Nativity

To ground was burnt Dianaes Temple high:

An Omen to their near approaching woe,

Whoſe glory to the earth this king did throw.

His rule to Greece he ſcorn’d ſhould be confin’d,

The Univerſe ſcarce bound his proud vaſt mind.

This is the He-Goat which from Grecia came,

That ran in Choler on the Perſian Ram,

That H7v 126

That brake his horns, that threw him on the ground

To ſave him from his might no man was found:

Philip on this great Conqueſt had an eye,

But death did terminate thoſe thoughts ſo high.

The Greeks had choſe him Captain General,

Which honour to his Son did now befall.

(For as Worlds Monarch now we ſpeak not on,

But as the King of little Macedon)

Reſtleſs both day and night his heart then was,

His high reſolves which way to bring to paſs;

Yet for a while in Greece is forc’s to ſtay,

Which makes each moment ſeem more then a day.

Thebes and ſtiff Athens both ’gainſt him rebel,

Their mutinies by valour doth he quell.

This done againſt both right and natures Laws,

His kinsment put to death, who gave no cauſe;

That no rebellion in in his abſence be,

Nor making Title unto Sovereignty.

And all whom he ſuſpects or fears will climbe,

Now taſte of death leaſt they deſerv’d in time,

Nor wonder is t if he in blood begin,

For Cruelty was his parental ſin,

Thus eaſed now of troubles and fears,

Next ſpring his courſe to Aſia he ſteers,

Leaves Sage Antopas, at home to ſway,

And through the Helleſpont his Ships made way

Coming to Land, his dart on ſhore he throws,

Then with alacrity he after goes;

And with a bount’ous heart and courage brave.

His little wealth among his Souldiers gave.

And H8r 127

And being ask’d what for himſelf was left,

Reply’d enough, ſith only hope he kept.

Thirty two thouſand made up his Foot force,

To which were joyn’d five thouſand goodly horſe.

Then on he marcht, in’s way he view’d old Troy,

And on Achilles tomb with wondrous joy

He offer’d, and for good ſucceſs did pray

To him, his Mothers Anceſtors, (men ſay)

When news of Alexander came to Court,

To ſcorn at him Darius had good ſport,

Sends him a frothy and contemptuous Letter,

Stiles him diſloyal ſervant, and no better;

Reproves him for his proud audacity

To lift his hand ’gainſt ſuch a Monarchy.

Then t’s Lieftenant he in Aſia ſends,

That he be ta’ne alive, for he intends

To whip him well with rods, and ſo to bring

That boy ſo mallipert before th King.

Ah! fond vain man, whoſe pen ere while

In lower terms was taught a higher ſtile.

To River Granick Alexander hyes

Which in Phrygia near Propontike lyes

The Perſians ready for encounter ſtand,

And ſtrive to keep his men from off the land;

Thoſe banks ſo ſteep the Greeks yet ſcramble up,

And heat the coward Perſians from the top.

And twenty thouſand of their lives bereave.

Who in their backs did all their wounds receive.

This victory did Alexander gain,

With loſs of thirty four of his there ſlain;

Then H8v 128

Then Sardis he, and Epheſus did gain,

Where ſtood of late, Diana’s wondrous Phane,

And by Parmenio (of renowned Fame,)

Militus and Pamphilia overcame.

Hallicarnaſſus and Piſidia

He for his Maſter takes with Lycia.

Next Alexander marcht towards the black Sea,

And eaſily takes old Gordium in hiw way;

Of Aſs ear’d Midas, once the Regal Seat,

Whoſe touch turn’d all to gold, year even his meat

Where the Prophetick knot he cuts in twain,

Which who ſo doth, muſt Lord of all remain.

Now news of Memnon’s death (the Kings Viceroy)

To Alexanders heart’s no little joy,

For in that Peer more valour did abide,

Then in Darius multitudes beſide:

In’s ſtead, was Arſes plac’d, but durſt not ſtay,

Yet ſet one in his room, and ran away;

His ſubſtitutes as fearfull as his maſter,

Runs after two and leaves all to Diſaſter.

Then Alexander all Cilicia takes,

No ſtroke for it he ſtruck, their hearts ſo quakes.

To Greece he thirty thouſand talents ſends.

To raiſe more Force to further his intends:

Then o’re he goes Darius now to meet,

Who came with thouſaand thou2sands at his feet.

Though ſome there be (perhaps) more likely write

He but four hundred thouſand had to fight,

The reſt Attendants, which made up on leſs,

Both Sexes there was almoſt numberleſs.

For I1r 129

For this wiſe King had brought to ſee the ſport,

With him the greateſt Ladyes of the Court,

His mother, his beauteous Queen and daughters,

It ſeems to ſee the Macedonian ſlaughters,

Its much beyond my time and little art,

To ſhew how great Darius plaid his part;

The ſplendor and the pomp he marched in,

For ſince the world was no ſuch two lettersflawed-reproductiongeant ſeen.

Sure ’twwas a goodly ſight there to behold,

The Perſians clad in ſilk, and gliſtering gold,

The ſtately horſes trapt, the lances gilt,

As if addreſt now all to run a tilt.

The holy fire was borne before the hoſt,

(For Sun and Fire the Perſians worſhip moſt)

The Prieſts in their ſtrange habit follow after,

An object, not ſo much of fear as laughter.

The King ſaaate in a chariot made of gold,

With crown and Robes moſt glorious to behold,

And o’re his head his golden Gods on high,

Support a party coloured Canopy.

A number of ſpare horſes next were led,

Leſt he ſhould need them in his Chariots ſtead;

But hoſe that ſaw him in this ſtate to lye,

Suppos’d he neither meant to fight or flye.

He fifteen hundred had like women dreſt;

For thus to fright the Greeks he judg’d was beſt.

Their golden ornaments how to ſet forth,

Would ask more time then was their bodies worth

Great Syſigambis ſhe brought up the Reer,

Then ſuch a world of waggons did appear,

I Like I1v 130

Like ſeveral houſes moving upon wheels,

As if ſhe’d drawn whole Souhan at her heels.

This brave Virago to the King was mother,

And as much good ſhe did as any other.

Now leſt this gold, and all this goodly ſtuff

Had not been ſpoyle an dbooty rich enough

A thouſand mules and Camels ready wait

Loaden with gold, with jewels and with plate:

For ſure Darius thought at the firſt ſight

The Greeks would all adore, but none would fight

But when both Armies met, he might behold

That valour was more worth then pearls or gold,

And that his wealth ſerv’d but for baits to ’lure

To make his overthrow mroe fierce and ſure.

The Greeks came on and with a gallant grace

Let fly their arrows in the Perſians face.

The cowards feeling this ſharp ſtinging charge

Moſt baſely ran, and left their king at large:

Who from his golden coach is glad to ’light,

And caſt away his crown for ſwifter flight:

OF late like ſome immoveable he lay,

Now finds both legs and horſe to run away.

Two hundred thouſand men that day were ſlain,

And forty thouſand priſoners alſo tane

Beſides the Queens and Ladies of the court,

If Curtius be true in his report.

The Regal Ornaments were loſt, the treaſure

Divided at the Macedonians pleaſure;

Yet all this grief, this loſs, this overthrow,

Was but beginning of his future woe.

The I2r 131

The royal Captives brought to Alexander

T’ward them demean’s himſelf like a Commander

For though their beauties were unparaled,

Conquer’d himſelf now he had conquered.

Preſerv’d their honour, us’d them bounteouſly,

Commands no man ſhould doe them injury:

And this to Alexander is more fame

Then that the Perſian King he overcame.

Two hundred eighty Greeks he loſt in fight,

By too much heat, not wounds (as authors write)

No ſooner had this Victor won the field,

But all Phenicia to his pleaſure yield,

Of which the Goverment he doth commit

Unto Parmenio of all moſt fit.

Darius now leſs lofty then before,

To Alexander writes he would reſtore

Thoſe mournfull Ladies from Captivity,

For whom he offers him a ranſome high:

But down his haughty ſtomach could not bring,

To give this Conqueror the Stile of King

This Letter Alexander doth diſdain,

And in ſhort terms ſends this reply again,

A King he was, and that not only ſo,

But of Darius King, as he ſhould know.

Next Alexander unto Tyre doth goe,

His valour an dhis victorryes they know:

To gain his love the Tyrians intend

Therefore a crown and great Proviſion ſend,

Their preſent he receives with thankfullneſs,

Deſire to offer unto Hercules,

I2 Protect I2v 132

Protector of their town, by whom defended,

And from whom he lineally deſcended.

But they accept not this in any wiſe,

Leſt he intend more fraud then ſacrifice,

Sent word that Hercules his temple ſtood

In the old town, (which then lay like a wood)

With this reply he was ſo deep engag’d,

And now as Babels King did once before

No leaveone wordflawed-reproduction till he made the ſea firm ſhore,

But far leſs time and coſt he did expend,

The former Ruines forwarded his end:

Moreover had a Navy at command,

The other by his men fetcht all by land.

In ſeven months time he took that wealthy town,

Whoſe glory now a ſecond time’s brought down.

Two thouſand by the ſword then alſo di’d,

And thirteen thouſand Gally ſlaves he made,

And thus the Tyrians for miſtruſt were paid.

The rule of this he to Philotus gave.

Who was the ſon of that Parmenio brave.

Cilicia to Socrates doth give,

For now’s the time Captains like Kings may live.

Zidon he on Epheſtion beſtowes,

(For that which freely comes, as freely goes)

He ſcorns to have one worſe then had the other,

So gives his little Lordſhip to another.

Epheſtion having chief command of th’ Floeet,

At Gaza now muſt Alexander meet.

Darius I3r 133

Darius finding troubles ſtill increaſe,

By his Ambaſſadors now ſues for peace,

And layes before great Alexanders eyes

The dangers difficultyes like to riſe,

Firſt at Euphrates what he’s like to ’bide,

And then at Tygris and Araxis side,

Theſe he may ſcape, and if he ſo deſire,

A league of friendſhip make firm and entire.

His eldeſt daughter he in mariage profers,

And a moſt princely dowry with her offers.

All thoſe rich Kingdomes large that do abide

Betwixt the Helleſpont and Halys ſide.

But he with ſcorn his courteſie rejects,

And the diſstreſſed King no whit reſpects,

Tells him, theſe proffers great, in truth were none

For all he offers now was but his own.

But quoth Parmenio that brave Commander,

Was I as great, as is great Alexander,

Darius offers I would not reject,

But th’ kingdomes and the Lady ſoon accept.

To which proud Alexander made reply,

And ſo if I Parmenio was, would I.

He now to Gaza goes, and there doth meet,

His Favorite Epheſtion with his Fleet,

Where valiant Betis ſtoutly keeps the town,

(A loyal Subject to Darius Crown)

For more repulſe the Grecians here abide

Then in the Perſian Monarchy beſide;

And by theſe walls ſo many men were ſlain,

That Greece was forc’d to yield ſupply again.

I3 But I3v 134

But yet this well defended Town was taken.

For ’twas decree’d, that Empire ſhould be ſhaken;

Thus Betis ta’en had holes bor’d through his feet,

And by command was drawn through every ſtreet

To imitate Achilles in his ſhame,

Who did the like to Hector (of more fame)

What haſta thou loſt thy magnimity,

Can Alexander deal thus cruelly?

Sith valour with Heroicks is renown’d

Though in an Enemy it ſhould be found;

If of thy future fame thou hadſt regard.

Why didſt not heap up honours and reward?

From Gaza to Jeruſalem he goes,

But in no hoſtile way, (as I ſuppoſe)

Him in his Prieſtly Robes high Jaddus meets,

Whom with great teverence Alexander greets;

The Prieſt ſhews him good Daniel’s Propheſy,

How he ſhould overthrow this Monarchy,

By which he was ſo much encouraged,

No future dangers he did ever dread.

From thence to fruitful Egypt marcht with ſpeed,

Where happily in’s wars he did ſucceed;

Too ſee how faſt he gain’d was no ſmall wonder,

For in few dayes he brought that Kingdome under.

Then to the Phane of Jupiter he went,

To be inſtall’d a God, was his intent.

The Pagan Prieſt through hire, or elſe miſtake,

The Son of Jupiter did ſtreight him make:

He Diabolical muſt needs remain,

That his humanity will not retain.

Thence I4r 135

Thence back to Egypt goes, and in few dayes;

Fair Alexandria from the ground doth raiſe;

Then ſetling all things in leſs Aſia,

In Syria, Egypt, and Phenicia,

Unto Euphrate marcht and overgoes,

For no man’s there his Army to oppoſe;

Had Betis now been there but with his band,

Great Alexander had been kept from Land.

But as the King, ſo is the multitude,

And now of valour both are deſtitute.

Yet he (poor prince) another Hoſt doth muſter,

Of Perſians, Scythians, Indians in a cluſter;

Men but in ſhape and name, of valour none

Moſt fit, to blunt the Swords of Macedon.

Tow hundred fifty thouſand by account,

Of Horſe and Foot his Army did amount;

For in his multitudes his truſt ſtill lay,

But on their fortitude he had ſmall ſtay;

Yet had ſome hope that on the ſpacious plain,

His numbers might the victory obtain.

About this time Darius beautious Queen,

Who had ſore travail and much ſorrow ſeen,

Now bids the world adue, with pain being ſpent

Whoſe death her Lord full ſadly did lament.

Great Alexander mourns as well as he,

The more becauſe not ſet at liberty:

When this ſad news, ( at firſt Darius hears,

Some injury was offered he fears:

but when inform’d how royally the King,

Had uſed her, and hers, in every thing,

H4 He I4v 136

He prays the immortal Gods they would reward

Great Alexander for this good regard;

And if they down his Monarchy will throw,

Let them on this dignity beſtow

And now for peace he ſues as once before,

And offers all he did and Kingdomes more;

His eldeſt daughter for his princely bride,

(Nor was ſuch match in all the world beſide)

And all thoſe Countryes which (betwixt) did lye

Phaniſian Sea, and great Euphrates high:

With fertile Egypt and rich Syria,

And all thoſe Kiungdoems in leſs Aſia

With thirty thouſand Talents to be paid,

For the Queen Mother, and the royal maid;

And till all this be well perform’d, and ſure,

Ochus his Son for Hoſtage ſhould endure.

To this ſtout Alexander gives no ear

No though Parmenio plead, yet will not hear;

Which had he done (perhaps) his fame he’d kept,

Nor Infamy had wak’d, when he had ſlept,

For his unlimited proſperity

Him boundleſs made in vice and Cruelty.

Thus to Darius he writes back again,

The Firmament, two Suns cannot contain.

Two Monarchyes on Earth cannot abide,

Nor yet two Monarchs in one world reſide;

The afflicted King finding him ſet to jar,

Prepares againſt to morrow, for the war,

Parmenio, Alexander, wiſht that night,

To ſoapproximately one wordflawed-reproduction Camp, ſo vanquiſh them by flight.

For I5r 137

For tumult in the night doth cauſe moſt dread,

And weakneſs of a Foe is covered,

But he diſdain’d to ſteal a victory:

The Sun ſhould witneſs of his valour be.

And careleſs in his bed, next morne he lyes,

By Captains twice is call’d before hee’l riſe,

The Armyes joyn’d a while, the Perſians fight,

And ſpilt the Greeks ſome bloud before their flight

But long they ſtood not e’re they’re forc’d to run,

So made an end, As ſoon as well begun.

Forty five thouſand Alexander had

But is not known what ſlaughter here was made,

Some write th’ other had a million, ſome more,

But Quintus Curtius as before

At Arbela this victory was gain’d,

Together with the Town alſo obtain’d;

Darius ſtript of all, to Media came,

Accompan’ed with ſorrow, fear and ſhame,

At Arbela left his Ornaments and Treaſure,

Which Alexander deals as ſuits his pleaſure.

This conqueror to Babylon then goes

Is entertain’d with joy and pompous ſhowes.

With ſhowrs of flours the ſtreets along are ſtrown,

And incenſe burnt the ſilver Altars on.

The glory of the Caſtle he admires,

The ſtrong Foundation and the lofty Spires,

In this, a world of gold and Treaſure lay,

Which in few hours was carried all away,

With greedy eyes he views this City round

Whoſe fame throughout the worddl was found

And I5v 138

And tp poſſeſs he counts no little bliſs

The towres and bowres of proud Semiramis,

Though worne by time, and rac’d by foes full ſore,

Yet aold foundations ſhew’d and ſomewhat more.

With all the pleaſures that on earth are found,

This city did abundantly abound,

Where four and thirty dayes he now did ſtay,

And gave himſelf to banqueting and play:

He and his ſouldiers wax effeminate,

And former diſcipline begin to hate.

Whilſt revelling at Babylon he lyes,

Antpater from Greece ſends freſh ſupplyes.

He then to Shuſhan goes with his new bands,

But needs no force, tis rendred to his hands.

He likewiſe here a world of treaſure found;

For ’twas the ſeat of Perſian Kings renown’d.

Here ſtood the royal Houſes of delight,

Where Kings have ſhown their glory wealth and might

The ſumptuous palace of Queen Eſther here,

And of good Mordicai her kinſman dear,

Thoſe purple hangins, mixt with green and white

Thoſe beds of gold and couches of delight.

And furniture the richeſt in all lands,

Now fall into Macedonians hands.

From Shuſhan to Perſipolis he goes,

Which news doth ſtill augment Darius woes.

In his approach the governour ſends word,

For his receipt with joy they all accord,

With open gates the wealthy town did ſtand,

And all in it was aat his high command.

Of I6r 139

Of all the Cities that on earth was found,

None like to this in riches did abound:

though Babylon was rich and Shuſhan too

Yet to compare with this they mught not doe

Here lay the bulk of all thoſe precious things

That did pertain unto the Perſian Kings:

For when the ſouldiers rifled had their pleaſure,

And taken money plate and golden treaſure,

Statues ſome gold, and ſilver numberleſs,

Yet after all, as ſtoryes do expreſs

The ſhare of Alexander did amount

To an hundred thouſand talentys by account.

Here of his own he ſets a Gariſon,

(AS firſt at Shuſhan and at Babylon)

On their old Governours titles he laid,

But on thier faithfulneſs he never ſstaid,

Their place gave to his Captains (as was juſt)

For ſuch revolters falſe, what King can truſt?

The riches and the pleaſures of his town

Now makes this King his virtues all to drown,

That wallowing in all licentiouſneſs,

In pride and cruelty to high exceſs.

Being inflam’d with wine upon a ſeaſon,

Filled with madneſs, and quite void of reaſon,

He at a bold proud ſtrumpets leud deſire,

Commands to ſet this goodly town on fire.

Parmenio wiſe intreats him to deſiſt

And layes before his eyes if he perſist

His fames diſhonour, loſs unto his ſtate,

And juſt procuring of the Perſians hate:

But I6v 140

But deaf to reaſon, bent to have his will,

Thoſe ſtately ſtreets with raging flame fill.

Then to Darius he directs his way,

Who was retir’d as far as Media,

And there with ſorrows, fears & cares ſurrounded

Had now his army fourth and laſt compounded,

Which forty thouſand made, but his intent

Was theſe in Bactria ſoon to augment:

But hearing Alexander was ſo near,

Thought now this once to try his fortunes here,

And rather choſe an onourable death,

Then ſtill with infamy to draw his breath:

But Beſſus falſe, who was his chief Commander

Perſwades him not to fight with Alexander.

With ſage advice he ſets before his eyes

The little hope of profit like to riſe:

If when he’d multitudes the day he loſt,

Then with ſo few, how likely to be croſt.

This counſel fo rhis ſafety he pretended,

But to deliver him to’s foe intended.

Next day this treaſon to Darius known

Tranſported ſore with grief and paſſion,

Grinding his teeth, and plucking off his hair,

Sate overwhelm’d with ſorrow and diſpair:

Then bids his ſervant Artabaſus true,

Look to himſelf, and leave him to that crew,

Who was of hopes and comforts quite bereft,

And by his guard and Servitors all left.

Straight Beſſus comes, & with his trait’rous hands

Layes hold on’s Lord, and binding him with bands

Throws I7r 141

Throws him into a Cart, covered with hides,

Who wanting means t’reſiſt theſe wrongs abides,

Then draws the cart along with chains of gold,

In more diſpight the thraled prince to hold,

And thus t’ward Alexander on he goes

Great recompence for this, he did propoſe:

But ſome deteſting this his wicked fact

To Alexander flyes and tells this act,

Who doubling of his march, poſts on amain,

Darius from that traitors hands to gain.

Beſſus gets knowledg his diſloyalty

Had Alexanders wrath incenſed high,

Whoſe army now was almoſt within ſight,

His hopes being daſht prepares himſelf for flight:

Unto Darius firſt he brings a horſe,

And bids him ſave himſelf by ſpeedy courſe:

The wofull King his courteſie refuſes,

Whom thus the execrable wretch abuſes,

By throwing darts gave him his mortal wound,

Then ſlew his Servants that were faithfull found,

Yea wounds the beaſts that drew him unto death,

And leaves him thus to gaſp out his laſt breath.

Beſſus his parner in this tragedy,

Was the falſe Governour of Media.

This done, they with their hoſt ſoon ſpeed away,

To hide themſelves remote in Bactria.

Darius bath’d in blood, ſends out his groans,

Invokes the heav’ns and earth to hear his moans:

His loſt felicity did grieve him ſore,

But this unheard of treachery much more:

But I7v 142

But above all, that neither Ear nor Eye

Should hear nor ſee his dying miſery;

As thus he lay, Poliſtrates a Greek,

Wearied with his long march, did water ſeek,

So chanc’d theſe bloudy Horſes to eſpy,

Whoſe wounds had made their skins of purple dye

To them repairs then looking in the Cart,

Finds poor Darius pierced to the heart,

Who not a little chear’d to have ſome eye,

The witneſs of this horrid Tragedy;

Prays him to Alexander to commend

The juſt revenge of this his woful end:

And not to pardon ſuch diſloyalty,

Of Treaſon, Murther, and baſe Cruelty.

If not becauſe Darius thus did pray,

Yet that ſucceeding Kings in ſafety may

Their lives enjoy, their Crowns and dignity,

And not by Traitors hands untimely dye.

He alſo ſends his humble thankfulneſs,

For all the Kingly grace he did expreſs;

To’s Mother, Children dear, and wife now gone.

Which made their long reſtraint ſeem to be none:

Praying the immortal Gods, that Sea and Land

Might be ſubjected to his royal hand,

And that his Rule as far extended be,

As men the riſing ſetting Sun ſhall ſee,

This ſaid, the Greek for water doth intreat,

To quench his thirſt, and to allay his heat:

Of all good things quoth he ) once in my power,

I’ve nothing left, at this my dying hour;

Thy I8r 143

Thy ſervice and compaſſion to reward,

But Alexander will, for this regard.

This ſaid, his fainting breath did fleet away,

And though a Monarch late, now lyes like clay;

And thus muſt every Son of Adam lye,

Though Gods on Earth like Sons of men they dye.

Now to the Eaſt, great Alexander goes,

To ſee if any dare his might oppoſe,

For ſcarces the world or any bounds thereon,

Could bound his boundleſs fond Ambition;

Such as ſubmits again he doth reſtore

Their riches, and their honours he makes more,

On Artabaces more then all beſtow’d,

For his fidelity to’s Maſter ſhow’d.

Thaleſtris Queen of th’ Amazons now brought

Her Train to Alexander, (as ’tis thought)

Though moſt of reading beſt and ſoundeſt mind,

Such Country there, nor yet ſuch people find.

Then tell her errand, we had better ſpare

To th’ ignorant, her title will declare:

As Alexander om jos greatmeſs grows,

So dayly of his virtues doth he loſe.

He baſeneſs counts, his former Clemency,

And not beſeeming ſuch a dignity;

His paſt ſobriety doth alſo hate,

As moſt incompatible to his State;

His temperance is but a ſordid thing,

No wayes becoming ſuch a mighty King,

His gretneſs now he takes to repreſent

His fancy’d Gods above the Firmament.

And I8v 144

And ſuch as ſhew’d but reverence before,

Now are commanded ſtrictly to adore;

with Perſian Robes himſelf doth dignifie,

Charging the ſame on his nobility,

His manners habit, geſtures, all did faſhion

After that conquer’de and luxurious Nation.

His Captains that were virtuouſly inclin’d,

Griev’d at this change of manners and of mind

The ruder ſort did openly deride,

His feigned Diety and fooliſh pride;

The certainty of both comes to his Ears,

But yet no notice takes of what he hears:

With thoſe of worth he ſtill deſires eſteem,

So heaps up gifts his credit to redeem

And for the reſt new wars and travails finds,

That other matters might take up their minds,

And hearing Beſſus, makes himſelf a King,

Intends that Traitor to his end to bring.

Now that his Hoſt from luggage might be free,

And with his burthen no man burthened be,

Commands forthwith each man his fardle bring,

Into the market place before the King;

Which done ſets fire upon thoſe goodly ſpoyles,

The recompence of travails wars and toyles.

and thus unwiſely in a mading fume,

The waelth of many Kingdomes did conſume,

But marvell ’tis that without mutiny

The Souldiers ſhould let paſs this injury;

Nor won her leſs to Readers may it bring,

Here to obſerve the rraſhneſs of the King.

Now K1r 145

Now with his Army doth he poſt away

Falſe Beſſus to find out in Bactria:

But much diſtreſt for water in their march,

The drought and heat their bodies fore did parch.

At lenfth they came to th’ river Oxus brink,

Where ſo immoderately theſe thirſty drink,

Which more mortality to them did bring,

Then all their warrs againſt the Perſian King.

Here Alexander’s almoſt at a ſtand,

To paſs the River to the other land.

For boats here’s none, nor near it any wood,

To make them Rafts to waft them o’re the flood:

But he that was reſolved in his mind,

Would without means ſome tranſportation find.

Then from the Carriages the hides he takes,

And ſtuffing thme with ſtraw, he bundles makes.

On theſe together ti’d, in ſix dayes ſpace,

They all paſs over to the other place.

Had Beſſus had but valour to his will,

With little pain there might have kept them ſtill.

But Coward durſt not fight, nor could he fly,

Hated of all for’s former treachery,

Is by his own now bound in iron chains,

A Coller of the ſame, his neck contains.

And in this ſort they rather drag then bring

This Malefactor vile before the King

Who to Darius brother gives the wretch,

With racks and tortures every limb to ſtretch,

Here was of Greeks a town in Bactria,

Whom Xerxes from their Country led away,

K Theſe K1v 146

Theſe not a little joy’d this day to ſee,

Wherein their own had got the ſov’raignty

And now reviv’d, with hopes held up their head

From bondage long to be Enfranchiſed.

But Alexander puts them to the ſword

Without leaſt cauſe from them in deed or word;

Nor Sex, nor age, nor one, nor other ſpar’d,

But in his cruelty alike they ſhar’d:

Nor reaſon could he give for this great wrong,

But that they had forgot their mother tongue.

While thus ſome time he ſpent in Bactria,

And in his camp ſtrong and ſecurely lay

Down from the mountains twenty thouſand came

And there moſt fiercely ſet upon the same:

Repelling theſe, two marks of honour got

Imprinted in his leg, by arrows ſhot.

The Bactrians againſt him now rebel;

But he their ſtubborneſs in time doth quell.

From hence he to Jaxartus River goes

Where Scythians rude his army doth oppoſe,

And with their outcryes in an hideous ſort

Beſet his camp or military court,

Of darts and arrows, made ſo little ſpare,

They flew ſo thick they ſeem’d to dark the air:

But ſoon his ſouldiers forc’d them to a flight,

Their nakedneſs could not endure their might

Upon this rivers bank in ſeventeen dayes

A goodly City doth compleatly raiſe,

Which Alexandria he doth likewiſe name,

And ſixty furlongs could but round the ſame.

A K2r 147

A third Supply Antipater now ſent,

Which did his former forces much agument;

And being one hundred twenty thouſand ſtrong;

He enters then the Indian Kings among:

Thoſe that ſubmit he gives them rule again,

Such as do not both them and theirs are ſlain.

His warrs with ſundry nations I’le omit,

And alſo of the Mallians what is writ.

His Fights, his dangers, and the hurts he had,

How to ſubmit their necks at laſt they’re glad.

To Niſa goes by Bacchus built long ſince,

Whoſe feaſts are celebrated by this prince;

Nor had that drunken god one who would take

His Liquors more devoutly for his ſake.

When thus ten days his brain with wine he’d ſoakt.

And with delicious meats his palate choakt:

To th’ River Indus next his courſe he bends,

Boats to prepare Epheſtion firſt he ſends,

Who coming thither long before his Lord,

Had to his mind made all things to acfcord,

The veſſels ready were at his command,

And Omphus King of that part of the land,

Through his perſwaſion Alexander meets,

And as his Sov’raign Lord him humbly greets

Fifty ſix Elephants he brings to’s hand,

And tenders him the ſtrength of all his land;

Preſents himſelf firſt with a golden crown,

Then eighty talents to his captains down:

But Alexander made him to behold

He glory ſought, no ſilver nor no gold;

K2 His K2v 148

His preſents all with thanks he did reſtore,

And of his own a thouſand talents more.

Thus all the Indian Kings to him ſubmit,

But Porus ſtout, who will not yeild as yet:

To him doth Alexander thus declare,

His pleaſure is that forthwith he repair

Unto his Kingdomes borders and as due,

His homage to himſelf as Soveraign doe:

But kingly Porus this brave anſwer ſent,

That to attend him there was his intent,

And come as well provided as he could,

But for the reſt, his ſword adviſe him ſhould.

Great Alexander vext at this reply,

Did more his valour then his crown envy,

Is now reſolv’d to paſs Hydaſpes flood,

And there by force his ſoveraignty make good.

Stout Porus on the banks doth ready ſtand

To give him welcome when he comes to land.

A potent army with him like a King,

And ninety Elephants for warr did bring:

Had Alexander much reſiſtance ſeen

On Tygrus ſide, here now he had not been.

Within this ſpacious River deep and wide

Did here and there Iſles full of trees abide.

His army Alexander doth divide

With Ptolemy ſends part to th’ other ſide.

Porus encounters them an dthinks all’s there,

When covertly the reſt get o’re elſe where,

And whilſt the firſt he valiantly aſſail’d,

The laſt ſet on his back, and ſo prevail’d.

Yet K3r 149

Yet work enough here Alexander found,

For to the laſt ſtout Porus kept his ground:

Nor was’t diſhonour at the length to yield,

When Alexander ſtrives to win the field.

The Kingly Captive ’fore the Victor’s brought,

In looks or geſture not abaaſed ought,

But him a Prince of an undaunted mind

Did Alexander by his anſwers find:

His fortitude and his royal foe commends,

Reſtores him and his bounds farther extends.

Now eaſtward Alexander would goe ſtill,

But ſo to doe his ſouldiers had no will,

Long with e xceſſive travails wearied,

Could by no means be farther drawn or led,

Yet that his fame might to poſterity

Be had in everlaſting memory

Doth for his Camp a greater circuit take,

And for his ſouldiers larger Cabbins make.

His mangers he erected up ſo high

As never horſe his Provender could eye.

Huge bridles made, which here and there he left,

Which might be found, and for great wonders kept

Twelve altars then for monuments he rears,

Whereon his acts and travels long appears,

But doubting wearing time might theſe decay,

And ſo his memory would fade away,

He on the fair Hydaſpes pleaſant ſide,

Two Cities built, his name might there abide.

Firſt Nicca, the next Bucephalon,

Where he entomb’d his ſtately Stalion.

K3 His K3v 150

His fourth and laſt ſupply was hither ſent,

Then down Hydaspes with his Fleet he went;

Some time he after ſpent upon that ſhore,

Whether Ambaſſadors, ninety or more.

Came with ſubmiſſion from the Indian Kings,

Bringing their preſents rare and precious things,

Theſe all he feaſts in ſtate on beds of goldd,

His Furniture moſt ſumptuous to behold;

His meat & drink, attendants, every thing,

To th’utmoſt ſhew’d the glory of a King.

With rich rewards he ſent them home again,

Then ſailing South and coming to that ſhore,

Thoſe obſcure Nations yielded as before:

A City here he built call’d by his Name,

Which could not ſound too oft with too much fame

Then ſailing by the mouth of Indus floud,

His Gallyes ſtuck upon the flats and mud;

Which the ſtout Macedonians amazed ſore,

Depriv’d at once the uſe of Sail and Oar:

Obſerving well the nature of the Tide,

In thoſe their fears they did not long abide.

Paſſing fair Indus mouth his courſe he ſteer’d

To th’ coaſt which by Euphrates mouth appear’d,

Whoſe inlets near unto, he winter ſpent,

Unto his ſtarved Souldiers ſmall content,

By hunger and by cold so many ſlain,

That of them all the fourth did ſcarce remain.

Thus winter, Souldiers, and proviſions ſpent,

From hence he then unto Gedroſia went.

And K4r 151

And thence he marcht into Carmania,

And ſo at lenfth drew near to Perſia,

Now through theſe goodly Countryes as he paſt,

Much time in feaſts and ryoting did waſte;

Then viſits Cyrus Sepulchre in’d way,

Who now obſcure at two lettersflawed-reproductionſſardus lay:

Upon his Monument his Robe he ſpread,

And ſet his Crown on his ſuppoſed head.

From hence to Babylon, ſome time there ſpent,

He at the laſt to royal Shuſhan went;

A wedding Feaſt to’s Nobles then he makes,

And Statyra, Darius daughter takes,

Her Siſter gives to his Epheſtian dear,

That by this match he might be yet more near;

He fourſcore Perſian Ladies alſo gave,

At this ſame time unto his Captains brave:

Six thouſand gueſts unto this Feaſt invites.

Whoſe Sences all were glutted with delights.

It far exceeds my mean abilities

To ſhadow forth theſe ſhort felicities,

Spectators here coudl ſcarce relate the ſtory,

They were ſo rapt with this external glory:

If an Ideal Paradi2se a man would frame,

He might this Feaſt imagine by the ſame;

To every gueſs a cup of gold he ſends,

So after many dayes the Banquet ends.

Now Alexanders conqueſts are done,

And his long Travails paſt and overgone;

His virtues dead, buried, and quite forgot,

But vice remains to his Eternal blot.

K4 ’Mongſt K4v 152

’Mongſt thoſe that of his cruelty did taſt,

Philotis was not leaſt, nor yet the laſt,

Accus’d becauſe he did not certifie

The King of treaſon and conſpiracy:

Upon ſuſpition being apprehended,

Nothing was prov’d wherein he had offended

But ſilence, which was of ſuch conſequence,

He was judg’d guilty of the ſame offence,

But for his fathers great deſerts the King

His royal pardon gave for this foul thing.

Yet is Phylotas unto judgment brought,

Muſt ſuffer, not for what is prov’d, but thought.

His maſter is accuſer, judge and King,

Who to the height doth aggravate each thing,

Inveighs againſt his father now abſent,

And’s brethren who for him their lives had ſpent.

But Philotas his unpardonable crime,

No merit fcould obliterate, or time:

He did the Oracle of Jove deride,

By which his Majeſty was diefi’d.

Philotas thus o’recharg’d with wrong and grief

Sunk in deſpair without hope of Relief,

Fain would have ſpoke and made his own defence,

The King would give no ear, but went from thence

To his malicious Foes delivers him,

To wreak their ſpight and hate on every limb.

Philotas after him ſends out this cry,

O Alexander, thy free clemency

My foes exceeds in malice, and their hate

Thy kingly word can eaſily terminate.

Such K5r 153

such torments great as wit could worſt invent,

Or fleſh and life could bear, till both were ſpent

Were now inflicted on Parmenio’s ſon

He might accuſe himſelf, as they had done,

At laſt he did, ſo they were juſtifi’d,

And told the world that for his guilt he di’d.

But how theſe Captains ſhould, or yet their maſter

Look on Parmenio, after this diſaſter

They knew not, wherefore beſt now to be done,

Was to diſpatch the father as the ſon.

This ſound advice at heart pleas’d Alexander,

Who was ſo much ingag’d to this Commander,

As he would ne’re confeſs, nor yet reward,

Nor could his Captains bear ſo great regard:

Wherefore at once, all theſe to ſatisfie,

It was decreed Parmenio ſhould dye:

Polidamus, who ſeem’d Parmenio’s friend

To do this deed they into Media ſend:

He walking in his garden to and fro.

Fearing no harm, becauſe he none did doe,

Moſt wickedly was ſlain without leaſt crime,

(The moſt renowned captain of his time)

This is Parmenio who ſo much had done

For Philip dead and his ſurviving ſon,

Who from a petty King of Macedon

By him was ſet upon the Perſian throne,

This that Parmenio who ſtill overcame,

Yet gave his Maſter the immortal fame.

Who for his prudence, valour, care and truſt

Had this reward, moſt cruel and unjuſt.

The K5v 154

The next, who in untimely death had part,

Was one of more eſteem, but leſs deſert;

Clitus blov’d next to Epheſtian,

And in his cups his chief companion;

When both were drunk, Clitus was wont to jeer,

Alexander to rage, to kill and ſwear;

Nothing more pleaſing to mad Clitus tongue,

Then’s Maſters Godhead to defie and wrong;

Nothing toucht Alexander to the quick,

Like this againſt his Diety to kick:

Both at a Feaſt when they had tippled well.

Upon this dangerous Theam fond Clitus fell;

From jeſt to earneſt, and at laſt ſo bold,

That of Parmenio’s death him plainly toldd.

Which Alexanders wrath incens’d ſo high,

Nought but his life for this could ſatisfie;

From one ſtood by he ſnatcht a partizan,

And in a rage him through the body ran.

Next day he tore his face fro what he’d done,

And would have ſlain himſelf for Clitus gone:

This pot Companion he did more bemoan,

Then all the wrongs to brave Parmenio done.

The next of worth that ſuffered after theſe,

Was learned, virtuous, wiſe Caliſtenes,

Who lov’d his Maſter more then did the reſt,

As did appear, in flattering him theleaſt;

In his eſteem a God he could not be,

Nor would adore him for a Diety:

For this alone and for no other cauſe,

Againſt his Soveraign, or againſt his Laws,

He K6r 155

He on the Rack his Limbs in pieces rent,

Thus was he tortnur’d till his life was ſpent.

Of this unkingly act doth Seneca

This cenſure paſs, and not unwiſely ſay,

Of Alexander this th eternal crime,

Which ſhall not be obliterate by time.

Which virtues fame can ne’re redeem by far,

Nor all felicity of his in war

When e’re ’tis ſaid he thouſand thouſands ſlew,

Yea, and Caliſthenes to death he drew.

The mighty Perſian King he overcame,

Yea, and he kill’d Caliſtrhenes of fame.

All Countryes, Kingdomes, Provinces, he wan

From Helliſpont, to th’ fartheſt Ocean.

All this he did, who knows’ not to be true?

But yet withal, Catiſthenes he ſlew.

From Macedon, his Empire did extend

Unto the utmoſt bounds o’th’ orient:

All this he did, yea, and much more, ’tis true,

But yet withal, Catiſthnes he ſlew.

Now Alexander goes to Media,

Finds there the want of wiſe Parmenio;

Here his chief favourite Epheſtian dies,

He ccelebrates his mournful obſequies:

Hangs his Phyſitian, the Reaſon why

He ſuffered, his friend Epheſtian dye.

This act (me-thinks) his Godhead ſhould a ſhame,

To puniſh where himſelf deſerved blame;

Or of neceſſity he muſt imply.

The other was the greateſt Diety.

The K6v 156

The Mules and Horſes are for ſorrow ſhorne,

The battlements from off the walls are torne.

Of ſtately Ecbatane who now muſt ſhew,

A rueful face in this ſo general woe;

Twelve thouſand Talents alſo did intend,

Upon a ſumptuous monument to ſpend:

What e’re he did, or thought not ſo content,

His meſſenger to Jupiter he ſent,

That by his leave his friend Epheſtion,

Among the Demy Gods they might inthrone.

From Media to Babylon he went,

To meet him there t’ Antipater he’d ſent,

That he might act alſo upon the Stage,

And in a Tragedy there end his age.

The Qyeen Olimpias bears him deadly hate,

Not ſuffering her to meddle with the State,

And by her Letters did her Son incite,

This great indignity he ſhould requite;

His doing ſo, no whit diſpleaſd the King,

Though to his Mother he diſprov’d the thing.

But now Antipater had liv’d ſo long,

He might well dye though he had done no wrong,

His ſervice great is ſuddenly forgot,

Or if remembered yet regarded not:

The King doth intimate ’twas his intetn,

His Honours and his riches to augment;

Of larger Provinces the rule to give,

And for his Counſel near the King to live.

So to be caught, Antipater’s too wiſe,

Parmenio’s death’s too freſh before his eyes;

He K7r 157

He was too ſubtil for his crafty foe.

Nor by his baits could be inſnared ſo:

But his excuſe with humble thanks he ſends,

His Age and journy long he then pretends;

And pardon craves for his unwilling ſtay,

He ſhews his grief, he’s forc’d to diſobey.

Before his Anſwer came to Babylon.

The thread of Alexanders life was ſpun;

Poyſon had put an end to’s dayes (’twas thought)

By Philip and Caſſander to him brought,

Sons to Antipater, and bearers of his Cup,

Leſt of ſuch like their Father chance to ſup;

By others thought, and that more generally,

That through exceſſive drinking he did dye:

The thirty third of’s Age do all agree,

This Conquerour did yield to deſtiny.

When this ſad news came to Darius Mother,

She laid it more to heart, then any other,

Nor meat, nor drink, nor comfort would ſhe take,

But pin’d in grief till life did her forſake;

All friends ſhe ſhuns, yea, baniſhed the light.

Till death inwwrapt her in perpetual night.

This Monarchs fame muſt laſt whilſt world doth ſtand,

And Conqueſts be talkt of whileſt there is land;

His Princely qualities had he retain’d,

Unparalled for ever had remain’d.

But with the world his virtues overcame,

And ſo with black beclouded, all his fame;

Wiſe Ariſtotle Tutor to his youth.

Had ſo inſtructed him in moral Truth,

The K7v 158

The principles of what he then had learn’d

Might to the laſt (when ſober) be diſcern’d.

Learning and learned men he much regarded,

And curious Artiſt evermore rewarded,

The Illiads of Homer he ſtill kept,

And under’s pillow laid them when he ſlept.

Achilles happineſs he did envy,

’Cauſe Homer kept his acts to memory.

Profuſely bountifull without deſert,

For ſuch as pleas’d him had both wealth and heart

Cruel by nature and by cuſtome too,

As oft his acts throughtout his reign doth ſhew:

Ambitious ſo, that nought could ſatiſfie,

Vain, thirſting after immortality,

Still fearing that his name might hap to dye,

And fame not laſt unot eternity.

This Conqueror did oft lament (tis ſaid)

There were no more worlds to be conquered

This folly great Auguſtus did deride,

For had he had but wiſdome to his pride,

He would have found enought there to be done,

To govern that he had already won.

His thoughts are periſht, he aſpires no more

Nor can he kill or ſave as heretofore.

A God alive, him all muſt Idolize

Now like a mortal helpleſs man he lyes.

Of all thoſe Kingdomes large which he had got,

To his Poſterity remain’d no jot,

For by that hand which ſtill revengeth bloud,

None of his kindred, nor his race long ſtood:

But K8r 159

But as he took delight much bloud to ſpill,

So the ſame cup to his, did others fill

Four of his Captains now do all divide,

As Daniel before had prophyſi’d.

The Leopard down the four ings gan to riſe,

The great horn broke, the leſs did tyranize.

What troubles and contentions did enſue

We may hereafter ſhew in ſeaſon due.


Great Alexander dead, his Armyes left,

Like to that Giant of his Eye bereft;

When of his monſtrous bulk it was the guide,

His matchleſs force no creature could abide.

But by Uliſſes having loſt his ſight,

All men began ſtreight to contemn his might;

For aiming ſtill amiſs, his dreadful blows

Ddi harm himſelf, but never reacht his Foes.

Now Court and Camp all in confuſion be,

A King they’l have, but who, none can agree;

Each Captain wiſht this prize to bear away,

But none ſo hardy found as ſo durſt ſay:

Great Alexander did leave Iſſue none,

Except by Artabaſus daughter one

And Roxane fair whom late he married,

Was near her time to be delivered.

By natures right theſe had enought to claim,

But meaneſs of their mothers bar’d the ſame,

Alleg’d by thoſe who by their ſubtile Plea

Had hope themſelves to bear the Crown away.

A ſiſter K8v 160

A Siſter Alexander had, but ſhe

Claim’d not, perhpas, her Sex might hindrance be.

After much tumult they at laſt proclaim’d

His baſe born brother Aridaus nam’d,

That ſo under his feeble wit and reign,

Their ends they might the better ſtill attain.

This choice Perdiccas vehemently diſclaim’d,

And Babe unborn of Roxane he proclaim’d;

Some wiſhed him to take the ſtyle of King,

Becauſe his Maſter gave to him his Ring,

And had to him ſtill ſince Epheſtion di’d

More then to th’ reſt his favour teſtifi’d.

But he refus’d, with feigned modeſty,

Hoping to be elect more generally.

He hold on this occaſion ſhould have laid,

For ſecond offer there was never made.

’Mongſt theſe contentions, tumults jealouſies,

Seven dayes the corps of their great maſter lies

Untoucht, uncovered ſlighted and neglected,

So much theſe princes their own ends reſpected:

A Contemplation to aſtoniſh Kings,

That he who late poſſeſt all earthly thigns,

And yet not ſo content unleſs that he

Mikght be eſteemed for a Diety;

Now lay a Spectacle to teſtifie

The wretchedneſs of mans mortality.

After ſome time, when ſtirs began to calm,

His body did the Egyptians embalme;

His countenance ſo lively did appear,

That for a while they durſt not come ſo near:

No L1r 161

No ſighn of poyſon in his intrails found,

But all his bowels coloured, well and ſound.

Perdiccas ſeeing Arideus muſt be King

Under his name began to rule each thing.

His chief Opponent who Control’d his ſway,

Was Milager whom he would not take away,

And by a wile he got him in his power,

So took his life unworthily that hour.

Uſing the name and the command of th’ King

To authorize his acts in every thing.

The princes ſeeing Perdiccas power and pride,

For their ſecurity did now provide.

Antigonus for his ſhare Aſia takes,

And Ptolemy next ſure of Egypt makes:

Seaucus afterward held Babylon,

Antipater had long rul’d Macedon.

Theſe now to govern for the king pretends,

But nothing leſs each one himſelf intends.

Perdiccas took no provice like the reſt,

But held command of th’ Army (which was beſt)

And had a higher project in his head,

His Maſters ſiſter ſecretly to wed:

So to the Lady, covertly he ſent,

(That none might know, to furſtrate his intent)

But Cleopatra this Suitor did deny,

For leonatus more lovely in her eye,

To whom ſhe ſent a meſſage of her mind,

That if he came good welcome he ſhould find.

In theſe tumultuous dayes the thralled Greeks.

Their Ancient Liberty afreſh now ſeeks.

L And L1v 162

And gladly would the yoke ſhake off, laid on

Sometimes by Philip and his conquering ſon.

The Athenians force Antipater to fly

To Lamia where he ſhut up doth lye.

To brave Crateus then he ſends with ſpeed

For ſuccours to relieve him in his need.

The like of Leonatus he requires,

(Which at this time well ſuited his deſires)

For to Antipater he now might goe,

His Lady take in th’ way, and no man know.

Antiphilus the Athenian General

With ſpeed his Army doth togther call,

And Leonatus ſeeks to ſtop, that ſo

He joyne not with Antipater their foe.

The Athenian Army was the greater far,

(Which did his Match with Cleopatra mar)

For fighting ſtill, while there did hope remain

The valiant Chief amidſt his foes was ſlain.

’Mongſt all the princes of great Alexander

For perſonage, none like to this Commander.

Now to Antipater Craterus goes,

Blockt up in Lamia ſtill by his foes,

Long marches through Cilicia he makes,

And the remains of Leonatus takes:

With them and his he into Grecia went,

Antipater releas’d from priſonment:

After which time the Greeks did never more

Act any thing of worht, as heretofore:

But under ſervitude their necks remain’d,

Nor former liberty or glory gain’d.

Now L2r 163

Now di’d about the end of th’ Lamian war

Demoſtenes, that ſweet-tongue’d Orator,

Who fear’d Antipater would take his life

For animating the Athenian ſtrife:

To end his dayes by poiſon rather choſe

Then fall into the hands of mortal foes.

Craterus and Antipater now joyne,

In love and in affinity combine,

Craterus doth his daughter Phila wed

Their frinddſhip might the more be ſtrengthened.

Whilſt they in Macedon do thus agree,

In Aſia they all aſunder be.

Perdiccas griev’d to ſee the princes bold

So many Kingdomes in their power to hold,

Yet to regain them, how he did not know,

His ſouldiers ’gainſt thoſe captains would not goe

To ſuffer them go on as they begun,

Was to give way himſelf might be undone.

With Antipater to joyne he ſometimes thought,

That by his help, the reſt might low be brought,

But this again diſlikes; he would remain,

If not in ſtile, in deed a ſoveraign;

(For all the princes of great Alexander

Acknowledged for Chief that old Commander)

Deſires the King to goe to Macedon,

Which once was of his Anceſtors the throne,

And by his preſence there to nullifie

The acts of his Vice-Roy now grown ſo hhigh.

Antigonus of treaſon firſt attaints,

And ſummons him to anſwer his complaints.

L2 This L2v 164

This he avoids, and ſhips himſelf and ſon,

goes to Antipater and tells whats done.

He and Craterus, both with him do joyne,

And ’gainſt Perdiccas all their ſtrength combine.

Brave Ptolemy, to make a fourth then ſent

To ſave himſelf from danger imminent.

In midſt of theſe garboyles with wondrous ſtate

His maſters Funeral doth celebrate:

In Alexandria his tomb he plac’d,

Which eating time hath ſcarcely yet defac’d.

Two years and mroe, ſince natures debt he paid,

And yet till now at quiet was not laid.

Great love did Ptolemy by this act gain,

And made the ſouldiers on his ſide remain.

Perdiccas hears his foes are all combind,

’Gainſt which to goe, is not reſolv’d in mind.

But firſt ’gainſt Ptolemy he judg’d was beſt,

Neer’ſt nunto him, aund fartheſt from the reſt,

Leaves Eumenes the Aſian Coaſt to free

Frokm the invaſions of the other three,

And with his army unto Egypt goes

Brave Ptolemy to th’ utmoſt to oppoſe.

Perdiccas ſurly cariage, and his pride

Did alinate the ſouldiers from his ſide.

But Ptolemy by affability

His ſweet demeanour and his courteſie,

Did make his own, firm to his cauſe remain,

And from the other ſide did dayly gain.

Perdiccas in his pride did ill intreat

Python of haughty mind, and courage great.

Who L3r 165

Who could not brook ſo great indignity,

But of his wrongs his friends doth certifie

The ſouldiers ’gainſt Perdiccas they incenſe,

Who vow to make this captain recompence,

And in a rage they ruſh into his tent,

Knock out his brains: to Ptolemy then went

And offer him his honours, and his place,

With ſtile of the Protector him to grace.

Next day into the camp came Ptolemy,

And is receiv’d of all moſt joyfully.

Their proffers he refus’d with modeſty,

Yields them to Python for his courteſie.

With what he held he was now more content,

Then by more trouble to grow eminent.

Now comes there news of a great victory

That Eumenes got of the other three.

Had it but in Perdiccas life ariv’d,

With greater joy it would have been receiv’d.

Thus Ptolemy rich Egypt did retain,

And Python turn’d to Aſia again.

Whilſt Perdiccas encamp’d in Affrica,

Antigonus did enter Aſia,

And fain would Eumenes draw to their ſide,

But he alone moſt faithfull did abide:

The other all had Kingdomes in their eye,

But he was true to’s maſters family,

Nor could Craterus, whome he much did love.

From his fidelity once make him move:

Two Battles fought and had of both the beſt,

And brave Craterus ſlew among the reſt:

L3 For L3v 166

For this ſad ſtrife he poures out his complaints,

And his beloved foe full ſore laments.

I ſhould but ſnip a ſtory into bits

And his great Acts and glory much eclipſe,

To ſhew the dangers Eumenes befel,

His ſtratagems wherein he did excel:

His Policies, how he did extricate

Himſelf from out of Lan’rinths intricate:

He that at large would ſatiſfie his mind,

In Plutarchs Lives his hiſtory may find.

For all that ſhould be ſaid, let this ſuffice,

He was both valiant, faithfull, patient, wiſe.

Python now choſe Protector of the ſtate,

His rule Queen Euridice begins to hate,

Sees Arrideus muſt not King it long,

If once young Alexander grow more ſtrong,

But that her huſband ſerve for ſupplement,

To warm his ſeat, was never her intent.

She knew her birth right gave her Macedon,

Grand-child to him who once ſat onn that throne

Who was Perdiccas, Philips eldeſt brother,

She daughter to hiſon, who had no other.

Pythons commands, as oft ſhe countermands,

What he appoints, ſhe purpoſely withſtands.

He wearied out at laſt would needs be gone,

Reſign’d his place, and ſo let all alone:

In’s room the ſouldiers choſe Antipater,

Who vext the Queen more then the other far.

From Macedon to Aſia he came,

That he might ſettle matters in the ſame.

He L4r 167

He plac’d, diſplac’d control’d rul’d as he liſt,

And this no man durſt queſtion or reſiſt;

For all the nobles of King Alexander

Their bonnets vail’d to him as chief Commander.

When to his pleaſure all things they had done,

The King and Queen he takes to Macedon,

Two ſons of Alexander, and the reſt,

All to be order’d there as he thought beſt.

The Army to Antigonus doth leave,

And Goverment of Aſia to him gave.

And thus Antipaater the ground-work layes,

On which Antigonus his height doth raiſe,

Who in few years, the reſt ſo overtops,

For univerſal Monarchy he hopes.

With Eumenes he diverſe Battels fought,

And by his flights to circumvent him ſought:

But vain it was to uſe his policy,

’Gainſt him that all deciets coudl ſcan and try.

In this Epitome too long to tell

How finely Eumenes did here excell,

And by the ſelf ſame Traps the other laid,

He to his coſt was righteouſly repaid.

But while theſe Chieftains doe in Aſia fight,

To Greece and Macedon lets turn our ſight.

When great Antipater the world muſt leave,

His place to Poliſperchon did bequeath,

Fearing his ſon Caſſander was unſtaid,

Too raſh to bear that charge, if on him laid.

Antigonus hearing of his deceaſe

On moſt part of Aſſyria doth ſeize.

L4 And L4v 168

And Ptolemy next to incroach begins,

Ally Syria and Phenicia he wins,

The Poliſperchon ’gins to act in’s place,

Recalls Olimpias the Court to grace.

Antipater had baniſh’d her from thence

Into Epire for her great turbulence;

This new Protector’s of another mind,

Thinks by her Majeſty much help to find.

Caſſander like his father could not ſee,

This Poliſperchons great ability,

Slights his Command his actions he diſclaims,

And to be chief himſelf now bends his aims;

Such as his Father had advanc’d to place,

Or by his favours any way had grac’d

Are now at the devotion of the Son,

Preſt to accompliſh what he would have done;

Beſides he was the young Queens favorite,

On whom t’was thought) ſhe ſet her chief delight:

Unto theſe helps at home he ſeeks out more,

Goes to Antigonus and doth implore,

By all the Bonds ’twixt him and’s Father paſt,

And for that great gift which he gave him laſt.

By theſe and all to grant him ſome ſupply,

To take down Poliſperchon grown ſo high;

Fro this Antigonus did need no ſpurs,

Hoping to gain yet more by theſe new ſtirs,

Streight furniſhd him with a ſufficient aid,

And ſo he queick returns thus well appaid,

With Ships at Sea an Army for the Land,

His proud opponent hopes ſoon to withſtand.

But L5r 169

But in his abſence Poliſperchon takes

Such friends away as for his Intereſt makes

By death by priſon, or by baniſhment,

that no ſupply by theſe her might be lent,

Caſſander with his Hoſt to Grecia goes,

Whom Poliſperchon labours to oppoſe;

But beaten was at Sea, and foil’d at Land,

Caſſanders forces had the upper hand,

Athens with many Towns in Greece beſide,

Firm (for his Fathers ſake) to him abide.

Whil’ſt hot in wars theſe two in Greece remain,

Antigonus doth all in Aſia gain;

Still labours Eumenes, would with him ſide,

But all in vaoin, he faithful did abide:

Nor Morhter could nor Sons of Alexander,

Put truſt in any but in this Commander.

The great ones now began to ſhew their mind,

And act as opportunity they find.

Aridaus the ſcorn’d and ſimple King

More then he bidden was could act no thing.

Poliſperchon for office hoping long,

Thinks to inthrone the Prince when riper grown;

Euridice this injury diſdains,

And to Caſſander of this wrong complains.

Hateful the two lettersflawed-reproduction me and houſe of Alexander,

Was to this proud and vindicaative Caſſander;

He ſtill kept lockt within his memory,

His Fathers danger with his Family

Nor thought he that indignity was ſmall,

When Alexander knockt his head to th’ wall.

Theſe L5v 170

Theſe with his love unto the amorous Queen,

Did make him vow, her ſervant to be ſeen.

Olimpias, Ardiaus deadly hates,

As all her Husbands, Children by his mates,

She gave him poyſon formerly (’tis thought)

Which damage both to mind and body brought;

She now with Poliſperchon doth combine,

To make the King by force his Seat reſigne:

And her young grand-child in his State inthrone,

That under him, ſhe might rule all alone.

For aid ſhe goes t’ Epire among her friends,

The better to accompliſh theſe her ends;

Euridice hearing what ſhe intends,

In haſte unto her friend Caſſander ſends,

To leaave his ſiege at Tegea, and with ſpeed,

To ſave the King and her in this their need:

Then by intreaties, promiſes and Coyne,

Some forces did procure with her to joyn.

Olimpias ſoon enters Macedon,

The Queen to meet her bhravely marches on,

But when her Souldiers ſaw their ancient Queen,

Calling to Mind what ſometime ſhe had been;

The wife and Mother of their famous Kings,

Nor darts, nor arrows, now none ſhoots or flings.

The King and Queen ſeeing their deſtiny,

To ſave their lives t’ Amphipolis do fly

But the old Queen purſues them with her hate,

And needs will have their lives as well as state:

the King by extream torments had his end,

And to the Queen theſe preſents ſhe did ſend;

A L6r 171

a Halter, cup of poyſon, and a Sword,

Bids chuſe her death, ſuch kindneſs ſhe’l afford.

The Queen with many a curſe, and bitter check,

At lenfth yields to the Halter her fair neck,

Praying that fatal day might quickly haſte,

On which Olimpias of the like might taſte.

This done the cruel Queen reſts not content,

’Gainſt all that lov’d Caſſander ſhe was bent;

His Brethren, Kinsfolk and his chiefſt friends,

That fell within her reach came to their ends:

Dig’d up his brother dead, ’gainſt natures right,

And threw his bones about to ſhew her ſpight.

the Courtiers wondring at her furious mind,

Wiſht in Epire ſhe had been ſtill confin’d.

In Peloponeſus then Caſſander lay,

Where hearing of this news he ſpeeds away,

With rage, and with revenge he’s hurried on,

To find this cruel Queen in Macedon;

But being ſtopt, at ſtreight Thermopoly,

Sea paſſage gets, and land in Theſaly:

His Army he divides, ſends poſt away,

Poliſperchon to hold a while in play;

And with the reſt Olimpias purſues,

For all her cruelty, to give her dues.

She with the chief o’th’ Court to Pydna flyes,

Well fortifi’d (and on the Sea it lyes)

There by Caſſander ſhe’s blockt up ſo long,

Untill the Famine grows exceeding ſtrong,

Her Couzen of Epire did what he might,

To raiſe the Siege, and put her Foes to flight.

Caſſander L6v 172

Caſſander is reſolved there to remain,

So ſuccours and endeavours proves but vain;

Fain would this wretched Queen capitulate,

Her foe would give no Ear, (ſuch is his hate)

The Souldiers pinched with this ſcarcity,

By ſtealth unto Caſſander dayly fly;

Olimpias mans to hold out to the laſt,

Expecting nothing but of death to taſt:

But his occaſions calling him away,

Gives promiſe for her life, ſo wins the day.

No ſooner had he got her in his hand,

But made in judgement her accuſers ſtand;

And plea the blood of friends and kindreds ſpilt,

Deſiring juſtice might be done for guilt;

And ſo was he acquitted of his word,

For juſtice ſake ſhe bing put to th’ Sword:

This was the end of this moſt cruel Queen

Whoſe fury ſcarcely parallel’d hath been.

The daughter ſiſter, Mother, Wife to Kings,

But Royalty no good conditions brings;

to Husbands death (’tis thought)ſhe gave conſent,

The murtherer ſhe did ſo much lament:

With Garlands crown’d his head, bemoan’d his fates,

His Sword unto Apollo conſecrates.

Her Outrages too tedious to relate,

How for no cauſe but her inveterate hate;

Her Husbands wives and Children after’s death,

Some ſlew, ſome fry’d, of others ſtopt the breath:

Now in her Age ſhe’s forc’d to taſt that Cup.

Which ſhe had others often made to ſip.

Now L7r 173

Now many Towns in Macedon ſuppreſt,

And Pallas fain to yield among the reſt,

The Funerals Caſſander celebrates

Of Aisdæus and his queen with State:

Among their Anceſtors by him they’re laid,

And ſhews of lamentation for them made.

Old Thebes he then rebuilt ſo much of fame,

And Caſſandria raisd after his name.

But leave him building, others in their Urne,

Let’s for a while, now into Aſia turn

True Eumenes endeavours by all Skill,

To keep Antigonus from Shuſhan ſtill;

Having command o’th’ Treaſure he can hire,

Such as no threats nor favour could acquire.

In divers Battles he had good ſucceſs,

Antigonus came off ſtill honourleſs;

When Victor oft he’d been, and ſo might ſtill,

Peuceſtes did betray him by a wile.

T’ Antigonus, who took his Life unjuſt,

Becauſe he never would forgoe his truſt;

Thus loſt he all for his fidelity,

Striving t’uphold his Maſters Family.

But to a period as that did haſte,

So Eumenes (the prop) of death muſt taſt;

All Perſia now Antigonus doth gain.

And Maſter of the Treaſure ſole remain:

Then with Seleucus ſtreight at odds doth fall,

And he for aid to Ptolemy doth call,

The Princes all begin now to envy

Antigonus, his growing up ſo high,

fear L7v 174

Fearing his force, and what might hap e’re long,

Enters into a Combination ſtrong,

Seleucus, Ptolemy Caſſander joynes,

Lyſimachus to make a fourthy combines:

Antigonus deſirous of the Greeks,

To make Caſſander odious to them ſeeks,

Sends forth his declarations near and far,

And clears what cauſe he had to make this war,

Caſſanders outrages at large doth tell,

Shews his ambitious practiſes as well.

The mother of their King to death he’d put,

His wife and ſon in priſon cloſe had ſhut:

And aiming now to make himſelf a king,

And that ſome title he might ſeem to bring,

Theſſalonica he had newly wed,

Daughter to Philip their renowned head:

Had built and call’d a City by his name

Which none e’re did, but thoſe of royal fame:

And in deſpight of their two famous Kings

Hatefull Olinthians to Greece rebrings.

Rebellious Thebes he had reedified,

Which their late King in duſt had damnified,

Requires them therefore to take up their arms

And to requite thie traitor for theſe harms.

Then Ptolemy would gain the Greeks likewiſe,

And he declares the others injuryes:

Firſt how he held the Empire in his hands,

Seleucus driven from Goverment and lands,

The valiant Eumenes unjuſtly ſlain,

And Lord of royal Shuſhan did remain,

There- L8r 175

Therefore requeſts their help to take him down

Before he wear the univerſal Crown.

Theſe princes at the ſea ſoon had a fight,

Where great Antigonus was put to flight:

His ſon at Gaza likewiſe loſt the field,

So Syria to Ptolemy did yield:

And Seleucus recovers Babylon,

Still gaining Countryes eaſtward he goes on.

Demetrius with Ptolemy did fight,

And coming unawares, put him to flight;

But bravely ſend the priſoners back again,

With all the ſpoyle and booty he had tane.

Courteous as noble Ptolemy, or more,

Who at Gaza did the like to him before.

Antigonus did much rejoyce, his ſon

With victory, his loſt repute had won.

At laſt theſe princes tired out with warrs.

Sought for a peace, and laid aſide their jarrs:

Teh terms of their agreement, thus expreſs

That each ſhould hold what now he did poſſeſs,

Till Alexander unto age was grown,

Who then ſhould be enſtalled in the throne.

This toucht Caſſander fore for what he’d done,

Impriſoning bothe the mother and the ſon:

He ſees the Greeks now favour their young Prince

Whom he in durance held, now and long ſince,

That in few years he muſt be forc’d or glad,

To render up ſuch Kingdomes as he had;

Reſolves to quit his fears by one deed done,

So puts to death the Mother and her Son.

This L8v 176

This Roxane for her beauty all commend,

But for one act ſhe did, juſt was her end.

No ſooner was great Alexander dead,

But ſhe Darius daughters murthered.

Both thrown into a well to hider her blot,

Perdiccas was her Partner in this plot.

The heavens ſeem’d ſlow in payin gher the ſame;

But at the laſt the hand of vengeance came.

And for that double fact which ſhe had done,

The life of her muſt goe, and of her ſon

Perdiccas had before for his amiſs,

But by their hands who thought not once of this.

Caſſanders deed the princes do deteſt,

But ’twas in ſhew; in heart it pleas’d them beſt.

That he is odious to the world, they’r glad:

And now they were free Lords of what they had.

When this foul tragdey ws paſt and done,

Polyſperchon brings the other ſon

Call’d Hercules, and elder then his brother,

(But Olimpias would prefer the other)

The Greeks toucht with the murther done of late,

This Orphan prince ’gan to compaſſionate,

Begin to mutter much ’gainſt proud Caſſander,

And place theeir hopes on th’ heir of Alexander.

Caſſander fear’d what might of this enſue,

So Poliſperchon to his counſel drew,

And gives Peloponeſus for his hire,

Who ſlew the prince according to deſire.

Thus was the race and houſe of Alexander

Extinct by this inhumane wretch Caſſander.

Antigo- M1r 177

Antigonus, for all this doth not mourn,

He knows to’s profit this at laſt will turn,

But that ſome Title now he might pretend,

To Cleopatra doth for marriage ſend;

Lyſimachus and Ptolemy the ſame,

And lewd Caſſander too, ſticks not for ſhame:

She then in Lydia at Sardis lay,

Where by the Embaſſage all theſe Princes pray.

Choice above all, of Ptolemy ſhe makes,

With his Embaſſador her journy takes;

Antigonus Lieutenant ſtayes her ſtill,

Untill he further know his Maſters will:

Antigonus now had a Wolf by th’ Ears,

To hold her ſtill, or let her go he fears.

Reſolves at laſt the Princeſs ſhould be ſlain,

So hinders him of her, he could not gain;

Her women are appointed for this deed,

They for their great reward no better ſpeed:

For by command, they ſtreight were put to death,

As vile Conſpirators that ſtopt her breath.

And now he hopes, he’d order’d all ſo well,

The world muſt needs believe what he doth tell;

Thus Philips houſe was quite extinguiſhed,

Except Caſſsanders wife who yet not dead.

And by their means who thought of nothing leſs,

Then vengeance juſt againſt them to expreſs;

Now blood was paid with blood for what was done

By cruel Father, Mother cruel Son:

Thus may we hear, and fear, and ever ſay,

That hadn is righteous ſtill which doth repay.

M The M1v 178

theſe Captains now the ſtile of Kings do take,

For to their Crowns their’s none can Title make;

Demetrius firſt the royal ſtile aſſumed,

By his Example all the reſt preſum’d.

Antigonus himſelf to ingratiate,

Doth promiſe liberty to Athens State;

With Arms and with proviſion ſtores them well,

The better ’gainſt Caſſander to rebel.

Demetrius thether goes, is entertain’d

Not like a King, but like ſome God they feign’d;

Moſt groſly baſe was their great Adulation,

Who Incenſe burnt, and offered oblation:

Theſe Kings afreſh fall to their wars again,

Demetrius of Ptolemy doth gain.

’Twould be an endleſs Story to relate

Their ſeveral Battels and their ſeveral fate,

Their fights by Sea, their victories by Land,

How ſome when down, ſtraight got the upper hand

Antigonus and Seleucus then fight

Near Epheſus, each bringing all his might,

And he that Conquerour ſhall now remain,

The Lordſhip of all Aſia ſhall retain

This day ’twixt theſe two Kings ends all the ſtrife,

For here Antigonus loſt rule and life:

Nor to his Son, did e’re one foot remain

Of thoſe vaſt Kingdomes, he did ſometimes gain.

Demetrius with his Troops to Athens flyes,

Hopes to find ſuccours in his miſeries;

But they adoring in proſperity,

Now ſhut their gates in his adverſity:

He M2r 179

He ſorely griev’d at this his deſperate State

Tryes Foes ſith friends will not compaſſionate.

His peace he then with old Seleucus makes,

Who his fair daughter Stratonica takes,

Antiochus, Seleucus, dear lov’d Son

Is for this freſh young Lady quite undone;

Falls ſo extreamly ſick, all fear’d his life

Yet durſt not ſay, he lov’d his Father wife,

When his diſeaſe the skill’d Phyſitian found,

Who did no ſooner underſtand the ſame,

But willingly reſign’d the beautious Dame:

Caſſander now muſt dye his race is run,

And leaves the ill got Kingdomes he had won.

Two Sons he left, born of King Philips daughter,

Who had an end put to their dayes by ſlaughter;

Which ſhould ſucceed at variance they fell,

The Mother would, the youngeſt might excell:

The eld’ſt inrag’d did play the Vipers part,

And with his Sword did run her through the heart:

Rather then Philips race ſhould longer live,

He whom ſhe gave his life, her death ſhall give.

Thhis by Lyſimacus was after ſlain,

Whoſe daughter he not long before had ta’ne;

Demetrius is call’d in by th’ youngeſt Son,

Againſt Lyſimachus who from him won.

But he a Kingdome more then’s friend did eye,

Seaz’d upon that, and ſlew him traitrouſly.

Thus Philips and Caſſander’s race both gone,

And ſo falls out to be extinct in one,

M2 And M2v 180

And though Caſſander died in his bed,

His Seed to be extirpt, was deſtined

For blood which was decre’d that he ſhould ſpill,

Yet muſt his Children pay for Fathers ill;

Jehu in killing Ahab’s houſe did well,

Yet be aveng’d muſt blood of Jezrel.

Demetrius thus Caſſander’s Kingdoms gains,

And now in Macedon as King he reigns;

Though men and mony both he hath at will,

In neither ſin is content if he ſits ſtill

That Seleucus holds Aſia grievs him ſore,

Thoſe countryes large his Father got before.

Theſe to recover, muſters all his might,

and with his Son in Law will needs go fight;

A mighty Navy rig’d, an Army ſtout,

With theſe he hopes to turn the world about:

Leaving Antigonus his eldeſt Son,

In his long abſence to rule Macedon.

Demetrius with ſo many troubles met,

As Heven and Earth againſt him had been ſet:

Diſaſter on diſaſter him purſue,

His ſtory ſeems a Fable more then true.

At laſt he’s taken and impriſoned

Within an Iſle that was with pleaſures fed,

Injoy’d what ere beſeem’d his Royalty,

Only reſtrained of his liberty:

After three years he died left what he’d won,

In Greece unto Antigonus his Son.

For his Poſterity unto this day,

Did ne’re regain one foot in Aſia.

His M3r 181

His Body Seleucus ſends to his Son.

Whoſe obſequies with wondrous pomp was done.

Next di’d the brave and boble Ptolemy,

Renown’d for bounty, valour, clemency,

Rich Egypt left, and what elſe he had won,

To Philadelphus his more worthy Son

Of the old Heroes, now but two remain,

Seleucus and Lyſimachus theſe twain,

Muſt needs go try their fortune and their might,

And ſo Lyſimachus was ſlain in fight;

’Twas no ſmall joy unto Selucus breaſt,

That now he had out lived all the reſt:

Poſſeſſion of Europe thinks to take,

And ſo himſelf the only Monarch make;

Whilſt with theſe hopes in Greece he did remain,

He was by Ptolemy Ceraunus ſlain.

The ſecond Son of the firſt Ptolemy,

Who for Rebellion unto him did fly;

Seleucus was a Father and a friend,

Yet by him had this moſt unworthy end.

Thus with theſe Kingly Captains have we done,

A little now how the Succeſſion run,

Antigonus, Seleucus and Caſſander,

With Ptolemy, reign’d after Alexander;

Caſſander’s Sons ſoon after’s death were ſlain,

So three ſucceſſors only did remain:

Antigonus his Kingdomes loſt and life,

Unto Seleucus, Author of that ſtrife.

His Son Demetrius, all Caſſanders gains,

And his poſterity, the ſame retains;

M3 Demetrius M3v 182

Demetrius Son was call’d Antigonus,

And his again was nam’d Demetrius.

I muſt let paſs thoſe many Battels fought,

Betwixt thoſe Kings, and noble Pyrrhus ſtout,

And his Son Alexander of Epire,

Whereby immortal honour they acquire;

Demetrius had Philip to his Son,

(Part of whoſe Kingdomes Titus Quintius won)

Philip had Perſeus who was made a Thrale

T’ Emilius the Roman General;

Him with his Sons in Triumph lead did he,

Such riches too as Rome did never ſee:

This of Antigonus, his Seed’s the Fate,

Whoſe Empire was ſubdu’d to th’ Roman State.

Longer Seleucus held the royalty,

In Syria by his Poſterity;

Antiochus Soter his Son was nam’d,

To whom the old Beroſu (ſo much fam’d,)

His Book of Aſſurs Monarchs dedicate

Tells of their names, their wars their riches, fates;

But this is periſhed with many more,

Which oft we wiſh was extant as before.

Antiochus Theos was Soter’s Son,

Who a long war with Egypts King begun;

The Affinityes and Wars Daniel ſets forth,

And calls them ther ethe Kings of South & North,

The Theos murther’d was by his lewd wife,

Seleucus reign’d when he had loſt his life.

A third Seleucus next ſits on the Seat,

And then Antiochus ſirnam’d the great,

Whoſe M4r 183

Whoſe large Dominions after was made ſmall,

By Scipio the Roman General;

Fourth Seleucus Antiochus ſucceeds,

And next Epiphanes whoſe wicked deeds,

Horrid Maſſacres, Murthers, cruelties,

Amongſt the Jews we read in Machabees.

Antiochus Eupater was the next,

By Rebels and Impoſters dayly vext;

So many Princes ſtill were murthered,

The Royal Blood was nigh extinguiſhed;

Then Tygranes the great Armenian King,

To take the Government was called in,

Lucullus, Him, (the Roman General)

Vanquiſh’d in fight, and took thoſe Kingdomes all;

Of Greece and Syria thus the rule did end,

In Egypt next a little time wee’l ſpend.

Firſt Ptolemy being dead, his famous Son

Call’d Philadelphus, did poſſeſs the Throne.

At Alexandria a Library did build,

And with ſeven hundred thouſand Volumes fill’d;

The ſeventy two Interpreters did ſeek,

They might tranſlate the Bible into Greek.

His Son was Evergetes the laſt Prince,

That valour ſhew’d, virtue or excellence,

Philopater was Evergetes Son,

After Epiphanes ſate on the Throne;

Philometor, Evergetes again,

And after him, did falſe Lathurus reign:

Then Alexander in Lathurus ſtead,

Next Auletes, who cut off Pompeys head.

M4 To M4v 184

To all theſe names, we Ptolemy muſt add,

For ſince the firſt, they ſtill that Title had.

Fair Cleopatra next, laſt of that race,

Whom Julius Cæſar ſet in Royal place,

She with her Paramour, Mark Anthony

Held for a time, the Egyptian Monarchy,

Till great Auguſtus had with him a fight

At Actium, where his Navys put to flight;

He ſeeing his honour loſt his Kingdome end,

Did by his Sword his life ſoon after ſend.

His brave Virago Aſpes ſets to her Arms,

To take her life, and quit her from all harms;

For ’twas not death nor danger ſhe did dread,

But ſome diſgrace in triumph to be led.

Here ends at laſt the Grecian Monarchy,

Which by the Romans had its deſtiny;

Thus Kings & Kingdomes have their times & dates,

Their ſtandings overturnings, bounds an fates:

Now up now down now chief, & then broght under,

The heavn’s thus rule, to fil the world with wonder

The Aſſyrian Monarchy long time did ſtand,

But yet the Perſian got the upper hand;

The Grecian longer then the Perſian ſtood,

Then came the Roman like a raging flood;

And with the torrent of his rapid courſe,

Their Crowns their Titles, riches bears by force.

The firſt was likened to a head of gold.

Next Arms and breaſt of ſilver to behold,

The M5r 185

The third, Belly and Thighs of braſs in ſight,

And laſt was Iron, which breaketh all with might;

The ſtone out of the mountain then did riſe,

and ſmote thoſe feet thoſe legs, thoſe arms & thighs

Then gold ſilver, braſs, Iron and all the ſtore,

Became like Chaff upon the threſhing floor.

The firſt a Lion, ſecond was a Bear,

The third a Leopard, which four wingds did rear;

The laſt more ſtrong and dreadful then the reſt,

Whoſe Iron teeth devoured every Beaſt,

And when he had no appetite to eat,

The reſidue he ſtamped under feet;

Yet ſhall this Lion, Bear, this Leopard, Ram,

All trembling ſtand before the powerful Lamb.

With theſe three Monarchyes now have I done,

But how the fourth, their Kingdomes from them won,

To fill the world with terrour and with woe;

My tyred brain leavs to ſome better pen,

This task befits not women like to men:

For what is paſt, I bluſh, excuſe to make,

But humbly ſtand, ſome grave reproof to take;

Pardon to crave for errours, is but vain,

The Subject was too high beyond my ſtrain,

To frame Apology for ſome offence,

Converts our boldneſs into impudence:

This my perſumption ſome now to requite,

Ne ſutor ultra crepidam may write.

The End of the Grecian Monarchy.
After M5v 186

After ſome dayes of reſt, my reſtleſs heart

To finiſh what’s begun, new thoughts impart,

And maugre all reſolves, my fancy wrought

This fourth to th’d other three, now might be brought:

Shortneſs of time and inability.

Will force me to a confus’d brevity.

Tet in this Chaos, one ſhall eaſily ſpy

The vaſt Limbs of a might Monarchy,

What e’re is found amiſs take in good part,

As faults proceeding from my head, not heart.

The Romane Monarchy, being the fourth and laſt, beginning 3213Anno Mundi, 3213.

Stout Romulus, Romes founder, and firſt King,

Whom veſtal Rhea to the world did bring,

His Father was not Mars as ſome devis’d,

But Æmulus in Armour all diſguiz’d:

Thus he deceiv’d his Neece, ſhe might not know

The double injury he then did do.

Where M6r 187

Where ſheperds once had Coats & ſheep their folds

Where Swains & ruſtick Peaſants kept their holds,

A City fair did Romulus erect,

The Miſtreſs of the World, in each reſpect,

His brother Rhemus there by him was ſlain,

For leaping o’re the wall with ſome diſdain.

The ſtones at firſt was cemented with blood,

And bloody hath it prov’d, ſince firſt it ſtood.

This City built and Sacrifices done,

A Form of Government, he next begun;

A hundred Senators he likewiſe choſe,

And with the ſtyle of Patres, honoured thoſe,

His City to repleniſh men he wants,

Great priviledges then to all he grants;

That will within thoſe ſtrong built walls reſide,

And this new gentle Government abide.

Of wives there was ſo great a ſcarcity,

They to their neighbours ſue for a ſupply;

But all diſdain Alliance, then to make,

So Romulus was forc’d this courſe to take:

Great ſhews he makes at Tilt and Turnament,

To ſe theſe ſports, the Sabins all are bent.

Their daughters by the Romans then were caught,

Then to recover them a Field was fought;

But in the end, to final peace they come,

And Sabins as one people dwelt in Rome.

The Romans now more potent ’gin to grow,

And Fedinates they wholly overthrow.

But Romulus then comes unto his end.

Some feigning so the Gods he did aſcend:

Others M6v 188

Others the ſeven and the thirtyeth of his reign,

Affirm, that by the Senate he was ſlain.

Numa Pompilius.

Numa Pompilius next choſe they King,

Held for his piety ſome ſacred thing,

To Janus he that famous Temple built;

Kept ſhut in peace, ſet ope when blood was ſpilt;

Religious Rites and Cuſtomes inſtituted,

And Prieſts and Flamines likewiſe he deputed,

Their Augurs ſtrange, their geſtures and attire,

And veſtal maids to keep the holy fire.

The Nymph Ægeria this to him told,

So to delude the people he was bold:

Forty three years he rul’d with genderal praiſe,

Accounted for a God in after dayes.

Tullius Hoſtilius.

Tullius Hoſtilius was third Roman King,

Who Martial diſcipline in uſe did bring;

War with the antient Albans he did wage,

This ſtrife to end ſix brothers did ingage.

Three call’d Horatii on the Romans ſide,

And Curatii three Albans provide:

The Romans conquer, th’other yield the day,

Yet in their Compact, after falſe they play.

The Romans ſore incens’d their General ſlay,

And from old Alba fetch the wealth away;

Of Latin Kings this was long ſince the Seat,

But now demoliſhed, to make Rome great.

Thirty M7r 189

Thirty two years did Tullus reighn, then dye.

Left Rome in wealth and power ſtill growing high,

Ancus Martius.

Next Ancus Martius ſits upon the Throne,

Nephew unto Pompilius dead and gone,

Rome he inlarg’d, new built again the wall,

Much ſtronger, and more beautiful withal;

A ſtately Bridge he over Typer made.

Of Boats and Oars no more they need the aid.

Fair Oſtia he built this Town, it ſtood

Cloſe by the mouth of famous Typer floud,

Twenty four years time of his Royal race,

Then unto death unwillingly gives place.

Tarquinius Priſcus

Tarquin a Greek at Corinth born and bred,

Who from his Country for Sepition fled.

Is entertain’d at Rome, and in ſhort time.

Bye wealth and favour doth to honour climbe;

He after Martius death the Kingdome had,

A hundred Senators he more did add.

Wars with the Latins he again renews,

And Nations twelve of Tuſcany ſubdues,

To ſuch rude triummphs as young Rome then had,

Some State and ſplendor did this Priſcus add:

Thirty eight years (this ſtronger born) did reign,

And ater all by Ancus Sons was ſlain.

Servius M7v 190

Servius Tullius.

Next Servius Tullius gets into the Throne,

Aſcends not up By merits of his own,

But by the favour and the ſpecial grace

Of Tanquil late Queen obtains the place.

He ranks the people into each degree,

As wealth had made them of ability;

A general Muſter takes, which by account,

To eighty thouſand Souls then did amount.

Forty four years did Servius Tullius reign,

And then by Tarquin Priſcus Son was ſlain.

Tarquinius Superbus the laſt King of the Romans

Tarquin the proud, from manners called ſo,

Sat on the Throne when he had ſain his Foe.

Sextus his Son did moſt unworthily,

Lucretia force, mirrour of Chaſtity

She loathed ſo the fact, ſhe loath’d her life,

And ſhed her guiltleſs blood with guilty knife

Her Husband ſore incens’d to quit this wrong,

With Junius Brutus roſe, and being ſtrong,

The Tarquins they from Rome by force expel,

In baniſhment perpetual to dwell;

The Government they change, a new one bring,

And people ſwear ne’r to accept of King.

An M8r 191

An Apology.

To finiſh what’s begun was my intent,

My thoughts and my endeavours thereto bent;

Eſſays I many made but ſtill gave out,

The more I mus’d, the more I was in doubt:

The ſubject large my mind and body weak,

With many moe diſcouragements did ſpeak.

All thoughts of further progreſs laid aſide,

Though oft perſwaded, I as oft deny’d,

At length reſolv’d, when many years had paſt,

To proſecute my ſtory to the laſt;

And for the ſame, I hours not few did ſpend,

And weary lines (thought lanke) I many pen’d:

But ’fore I could accompliſh my deſire,

My papers fell a prety to th’ raging fire.

And thus my pains (with better things) I loſt,

Which none had cauſe to wail, nor I to boaſt.

Nor more I’le do ſith I have ſuffer’d wrack,

Although my Monarchies their legs do lack.

Nor matter is’t this laſt, the world now ſees,

Hath many Ages been upon his knees.

An M8v 192

A Dialogue between Old England and New; concerning their preſent Troubles, 1642Anno, 1642.


Alas dear Mother, faireſt Queen and beſt,

With honour, wealth, and peace, happy and bleſt;

What ails thee hang thy head, & croſs thine arms?

And ſit i’th’ duſt, to ſigh theſe ſad alarms?

What deluge of new woes thus over-whelme

The glories of thy ever famous Realme?

What means this wailing tone, this mournful guiſe?

Ah, tell thy daughter, ſhe may ſympathize.

Old England.

Art ignorant indeed of theſe my woes?

Or muſt my forced tongue theſe griefs diſcloſe?

And muſt my ſelf diſſect my tatter’d ſtate,

Which ’mazed Chriſtendome ſtands wondring at?

And thou a Child, a Limbe and doſt not feel

My fainting weakned body now to reel?

This N1r 193

This Phyſick purging potion, I have taken,

Will bring conſumption, or an Ague quaking,

Unleſs ſome Cordial, thou fetch from high,

Which preſent help may eaſe my malady.

If I deceaſe. doſt think thou ſhalt ſurvive?

Or by my waſting ſtate doſt think to thrive?

Then weigh our caſe, if’t be not juſtly ſad;

Let me lament alone, while thou art glad.


And thus (alas) your ſtate you much deplroe

In general terms, but will not ſay wherefore:

What medicine ſhall I ſeek to cure this woe,

If th’ wound ſo dangerous I may not know.

But you perhaps, would have me gheſs it out:

What hath ſome Hengiſt like that Saxon ſtout

By fraud or force uſurp’d thy flowring crown,

Or by tempeſtuous warrs thy fields trod down?

Or hath Canutus, that brave valiant Dane

The Regal peacefull Scepter from thee tane?

Or is’t a Norman, whoſe victorious hand

With Engliſh blood bedews thy conquered land?

Or is’t Inteſtine warrs that thus offend?

Do Maud and Stephen for the crown contend?

Do Barons riſe ad ſide againſt their King,

And call in foraign aid toelp the thing?

Muſt Edward be depos’d? or is’t the hour

That ſecond Richard muſt be clapt i’th tower?

Or is’t the fatal jarre, again begun

That from the red white pricking roſes ſprung?

N Muſt N1v 194

Muſt Richmonds aid, the Nobles now implore?

To come and break the Tuſhkes pf tje Boar,

If none of theſe dear Mother, what’s your woe?

Pray do you fear Spains bragging Armado?

Doth your Allye, fair France, conſpire your wrack,

Or do the Scots play falſe, behind your back?

Doth Holland quit you ill for all your love?

Whence is the ſtorm from Earth or Heaven above?

Is’t drought, is’t famine, or is’t peſtilence?

Doſt feel the ſmart, or fear the Conſequence?

Your humble Child intreats you, ſhew your grief,

Though Arms, nor Purſe ſhe hath for your relief,

Such is her poverty, yet ſhall be found

A Suppliant for your help, as ſhe is bound.

Old England.

I muſt confeſs ſome of thoſe ſores you name,

My beauteous bodyt at this preſent maime;

But forreign foe, nor feigned friend I fear,

For they have work enough (thou knowſt) elſewhere

Nor is it Alcies Son, nor Henryes daughter;

Whoſe proud contention cauſe this ſlaughter,

Nor Nobles ſiding, to make John no King,

French Jews unjuſtly to the Crown to bring;

No Edward, Richard, to loſe rule and life,

Nor no Lancaſtrians to renew old ſtrife:

No Duke of York, nor Earl of March to ſoyle

Their hands in kindreds blood whom they did foil

No crafty Tyrant now uſurps the Seat

Who Nephews ſlew that ſo he might be great;

No N2r 195

No need of Tudor, Roſe to unite,

None knows which is the red, or which the white;

Spains braving Fleet a ſecond time, is ſunk,

France knows how oft my fury ſhe hath drunk:

By Edward third and Henry fifth of fame,

Her Lillies in mine Arms avouch the ſame.

My Siſter Scotland hurts me now no more

What Holland is I am in ſome ſuſpence?

But truſt not much unto his excellence.

For wants, ſure ſome I feel, but more I fear,

And for the Peſtilence, who knows how near;

Famine and Plague, two Siſters of the Sword,

Deſtruction to a Land, doth ſoon afford:

They’re for my puniſhment ordain’d n high,

Unleſs our tears prevent it ſpeedily.

But yet I Anſwer not what you demand.

To ſhew the grievance of my troubled Land?

Before I tell th’ Effect, I’le ſhew the Cauſe

Which are my ſins the breach of ſacred Laws,

Idolatry ſupplanter of a Nation,

With fooliſh Superſtitious Adoration,

Are lik’d and countenanc’d by men of might,

The Goſpel troden down and hath no right:

Church Offices were ſold and bought for gain,

That Pope had hope to find, Rome here again,

For Oaths and Blaſphemies did ever Ear

From Belzebub himſelf ſuch language hear;

What ſcorning of the Saints of the moſt high?

What injuries did daily on them lye?

N2 What N2v 196

What falſe reports, what nick-names did they take

Not for their own, but for their Maſters ſake?

And thou poor ſoul, wert jeer’d among the reſt,

Thy flying for the truth was made a jeſt.

For Sabbath-breaking, and for drunkenneſs,

Did ever land profaneſs more expreſs?

From crying blood yet cleanſed am not I,

Martyres and others, dying cauſeleſly.

How many princely heads on blocks laid down

For nought but title to a fading crown?

’Mongſt all the crueltyes by great ones done

Of Edwards youths, and Clarence hapleſs ſon,

Of Jane why didſt thou dye in flowring prime?

Because of royal ſtem, what was thy crime.

For bribery Adultery and lyes,

Where is the nation, I can’t parallize.

With uſury, extortion and oppreſſion,

Theſe be the Hydraes of my ſtout tranſgreſſion.

Theſe be the bitter fountains, heads and roots,

Whence flow’d the ſource, the ſprigs, the boughs & fruits

Of more then thou canſt hear or I relate,

That with high hand I ſtill did perpetrate:

For theſe were threatned the wofull day,

I mockt the Preachers, put it far away;

The Sermons yet upon Record do ſtand

That cri’d deſtruction to my wicked land:

I then believ’d not, ow I feel and ſee,

The plague of ſtubborn incredulity.

Some loſt their livings, ſome in priſon pent,

Some fin’d, from houſe & friends to exile went.

Their N3r 197

Their ſilent tongues to heaven did vengeance cry,

Who ſaw their wrongs & hath judg’d righteouſly

And will repay it ſeven-fold in my lap:

This is fore-runner of my Afterclap

Nor took I warning by my neighbours falls,

I ſaw ſad Germanyes diſmantled walls,

I ſaw her people famiſh’d, Nobles ſlain,

Her fruitfull land, a barren Heath remain.

I ſaw unmov’d, her Armyes foil’d and fled,

Wives forc’d, babes toſs’d, her houſes calcined.

I ſaw ſtrong Rochel yielded to her Foe,

Thouſands of ſtarved Chriſtians there alſo.

I ſaw poor Ireland bleeding out her laſt,

Such crueltyes as all reports have paſt;

Mine heart obdurate ſtood not yet agaſt.

Now ſip I of that cup, an juſt’t may be

The bottome dreggs reſerved are for me.


To all you’ve ſaid, ſad Mother I aſſent,

Your fearfull ſins great cauſe there’s to lament,

My guilty hands in part, hold up with you,

A Sharer in your puniſhment’s my due.

But all you ſay amounts to this effect,

Not what you feel, but what you do expect,

Pray in plain terms, what is your preſent grief?

Then let’s joyn heads & harts for your relief.

N3 Old- N3v 198

Old England.

Well to the matter then, there’s grown of late

’Twixt King and Peers a Queſtion of State,

Which is the chief, the Law, or elſe the King.

’Tis ſaid, my better part in Parliament

To eaſe my groaning Land, ſhew’d their intent,

To cruſh the proud, and right to each man deal,

To help the Church, and ſtay the Common-weal.

So many Obſtacles came in their way,

As puts me to a ſtand what I ſhould ſay,

Old cuſtomes, new Prerogatives ſtood on,

Had they not held Law faſt all had been gone:

Which by their prudence ſtood them in ſuch ſtead

They took high Strafford lower by the head.

And to their Laud be’t ſpoke, they held i’th tower

All Englands Metropolitane that hour;

This done, an act they would have paſſed fain,

No Orelate ſhould his Biſhoprick retain;

Here tugg’d they hard (indeed,) for all men ſaw

This muſt be done by Goſpel not by Law.

Next the Militia they urged ſore,

This was deny’d, (I need not ſay wherefore)

The King diſpleas’d at York, himſelf abſents,

They humbly beg return, ſhew their intents;

The writing, printing, poſting too and fro,

Shews all was done, I’le therefore let it go.

But now I come to ſpeak of my diſaſter,

Contention grown, ’twixt Subjects & their Maſter;

They N4r 199

They worded it ſo long, they fell to blows.

That thouſands lay on heaps, here bleeds my woes,

I that no wars ſo many years have known,

Am now deſtroy’d and ſlaught’red by mine own;

But could th Field alone this ſtrife tide,

One Battel two or three I might abide:

But theſe may be beginnings of more woe

Who knows, but this may be my overthrow.

Oh pity me in this ſad perturbation,

My plundred Towns, my houſes devaſtation,

My weeping Virgins and my young men ſlain;

My wealthy trading fall’n, my dearth of grain.

the ſeed-times come, but ploughman hath no hope

Becauſe he knows not, who ſhall inn his Crop:

The ppor they want their pay, their children bread,

Their woful Mohters tears unpittied,

If any pity in thy heart remain,

Or any child-like love thou doſt retain,

For my relief, do what there lyes in thee,

And recompence that good I’ve done to thee.


Dear Mother ceaſe complaints & wipe your eyes,

Shake off your duſt, chear up, and now ariſe,

You are my Mother Nurſe, and I your fleſh,

Your ſunken bowels gladly would refreſh,

Your griefs I pity, but ſoon hope to ſee,

Out of your troubles much good fruit to be;

To ſee thoſe latter dayes of hop’d for good,

Though now beclouded all with tears and blood:

N4 After N4v 200

After dark Popery the day did clear,

But now the Sun in’s brightneſs ſhall appear.

Bleſt be the Nobles of thy noble Land,

With ventur’d lives for Truths defence that ſtand.

Bleſt be thy Commons who for common good

And thy infringed Laws have boldly ſtood

Bleſt be thy Preachers, who do chear thee on,

O cry the Sword of God and Gideon;

And ſhall I not on them wiſh Mero’s curſe,

That help thee not with ptrayers, Arms and purſe?

And for my ſelf let miſeries abound,

If mindleſs of thy State I e’re be found.

Theſe are the dayes the Churches foes to cruſh,

Ye root out Popelings head, tail, branch and rush;

Let’s bring Baals veſtments forth to make a fire,

Their Mytires, Surplices, and all their Tire,

Copes, rotchets, Croſſiers, and ſuch empty traſh,

And let their Names conſume, but let the ſtaſh

Light Chriſtendome, and all the world to ſee

We hate Romes whore, with all her trumpery.

Go on brave Eſſex with a Loyal heart,

Not falſe to King, nor to the better part;

But thoſe that hurt his pople and his Crown,

As duty binds, expel and tread them down.

And ye brave Nobles chaſe away all fear,

And to this hopeful Cauſe cloſely adhere;

O Mother can you weep, and have ſuch Peers,

When they are gone, then drown your ſelf in tears

If N5r 201

If now you weep ſo much, that then no more

The briny Ocean will o’reflow your ſhore.

Theſe, theſe are they I truſt, with Charles our King,

Out of all miſts ſuch glorious dayes ſhall bring;

That dazled eyes beholding much ſhall wonder

At that thy ſetled peace, thy wealth and ſplendor.

Thy Church and weal eſtabliſh’d in ſuch manner

That all ſhall joy, that thou diſplaydſt thy Banner;

And diſcipline erected ſo I truſt,

That nurſing Kings ſhall come and lick thy duſt:

Then Juſtice ſhall in all thy Courts take place,

Without reſpect of perſon, or of caſe;

Then Bribes ſhall ceaſe, & Suits ſhall not ſtick long

Patience and purſe of Clients oft to wrong:

Then high Commiſſions ſhall fall to decay,

And Purſivants, and Catchpoles want their pay.

So ſhall thy happy Nation ever flouriſh,

When truth & righteouſnes they thus ſhall nouriſh

When thus in peace, thine Armies brave ſend out,

To ſack proud Rome, and all her Vaſſals rout;

There let thy Name, thy fame and glory ſhine,

As did thine Anceſtors in Paleſtine:

And let her ſpoyls full pay, with Intereſt be,

Of what unjuſtly once ſhe poll’d from thee.

Of all the woes thou canſt, let her be ſped,

And on her pour the vengeance threatned;

Bring forth the Beaſt that rul’d the World with’s beck,

And tear his fleſh, & ſet your feet on’s neck;

And make his filthy Den ſo deſolate,

To th’ ſtoniſhment of all that knew his ſtate:

This N5v 202

This done with brandiſh’d Swords to Turky goe,

For then what is’t, but Engliſh blades dare do

And lay her waſte for ſo’s the ſacred Doom,

And do to Gog as thou haſt done to Rome.

Oh Abraham’s ſeed lift up your heads on high,

For ſure the day of your Redemption’s nigh;

The Scales ſhall fall from your long blinded eyes,

And him you ſhall adore who now deſpiſe,

Then fulneſs of the Nations in ſhall flow,

and Jew and Gentile to one worſhip go;

Then follows dayes of happineſs and reſt;

Whoſe lot doth fall to live therein is bleſt:

No Canaanite ſhall then be found i’th’ Land,

And holineſs on horſes bells ſhall ſtand.

If this make may thereto, then ſigh no more,

But if at all, thou didſt not ſee’t before;

Farewel dear Mother, righteſt cauſe prevail,

And in a while, you’le tell another tale.

An N6r 203

An Elegie upon that Honourable and renowned Knight Sir Philip Sidney, who was untimely ſlain at the Siege of Zutphen, 1586Anno, 1586.

When England did enjoy her Halſion dayes,

Her noble Sidney wore the Crown of Bayes;

As well an honour to our Britiſh Land,

As ſhe that ſway’d the Scepter with her hand;

Mars and Minerva did in one agree,

Of Arms and Arts he ſhould a pattern be,

Calliope with Terpſichore did ſing,

Of Poeſie, and of muſick, he was King;

His Rhetorick ſtruck Polimina dead,

His Eloquence made Mercury wax red;

His Logick from Euterpe won the Crown,

More worth was his then Clio could ſet down.

Thalia and Melpomene ſa truth,

(Witneſs Arcadia penned in his youth,)

Are not his tragick Comedies ſo acted

As if your ninefold wit had been compacted.

To ſwhew the world, they never ſaw before

That this one Volume ſhould exhauſt your ſtore;

His wiſer dayes condemn’d his witty works,

Who knows the ſpels that in his Rhetorick lurks.

But N6v 204

But ſome infatuate fools ſoon caught therein,

Fond Cupids Dame had never ſuch a gin

Which makes ſeverer eyes but flight that ſtory,

And men of moroſe minds envy his glory:

But he’s a Beetle head that can’t deſcry

A world of wealth within that rubbiſh lye,

And doth his name, his work his honour wrong,

The brave refiner of our Britiſh tongue,

That ſees not learning, valour and morality,

Juſtice, friendſhip, and kind hoſpitality,

Yea and Divinity within his book,

Such were prejudicate, and did not look.

In all Records his name I ever ſee

Put with an Epithite of dignity,

Which ſhews his worth was great his honour ſuch,

The love his Country ought him, was as much.

Then let none diſallow of theſe my ſtraines

Whilſt Engliſh blood yet runs within my veins.

O brave Achilles, I wiſh ſome Homer would

Engrave in Marble, with Characters of gold

The valiant feats thou didſt on Flanders coaſt,

Which at this day fair Belgia may boaſt.

The more I ſay, the more thy worth I ſtain,

Thy fame and praiſe is far beyond my ſtrain.

O Zutphen, Zutphen that moſt fatal City

Made famous by thy death, much more the pity:

Ah! in his blooming prime death pluckt this roſe

E’re he was ripe, his thread cut Atropos.

Thus man is born to dye, and dead is he,

Brave Hector, by the walls of Troy we ſee.

O Who N7r 205

O who was near thee but did ſore repine

He reſcued not with life that life of thine:

But yet impartial Fates this boon did give,

Though Sidney di’d his valiant name ſhould live:

And live it doth in ſpight of death through fame,

Thus being overcome, he overcame.

Where is that envious tongue, but can afford

Of this our noble Scipio ſome good word.

Great Bartas this unto thy praiſe adds more,

In ſad ſweet verſe, thou didſt his death deplore.

And Phœnix Spencer doth unto his life,

His death preſent in fable to his wife.

Stella the fair, whoſe ſtreams from Conduits fell

For the ſad loſs of her dear Aſtrophel.

Fain would I ſhew how he fames path did tread,

But now into ſuch Lab’rinths I am lead,

With endleſs turnes, the way I find not out,

How to perſiſt my Muſe is more in doubt;

Which makes me now with Silveſter confeſs,

But Sidney’s Muindent(3)se can ſing his worthineſs.

The Muſes aid I crav’d they had no will

To give to their Detractor any quill,

With high disdain, they ſaid they gave no more,

Since Sidney had exhauſted all their ſtore.

They took from me the ſcribling pen I had,

(I to be eas’d of ſuch a task was glad)

Then to reveng this wrong, themſelves engage,

And drave me from Parnaſſus in a rage.

Then wonder not if I no better ſped,

Since I the Muſes thus have injured.

I pen- N7v 206

I penſive for my fault ſate down, and then

Errata through their leave, threw me my pen,

My Poem to conclude, two lines they deign

Which writ, ſhe bad return’t to them again;

So Sidney’s fame I leave to Englands Rolls,

His bones to lie interr’d in ſtately Pauls.

His Epitaph.

Here lies in fame under this ſtone,

Philip and Alexander both in one;

Heir to the Muſes, the Son of Mars in Truth,

Learning, Valour, Wiſdome all in virtuous youth,

His praiſe is much, this ſhall ſuffice my pen,

That Sidney dy’d mong moſt renown’d of men.

In honour of Du Bartas, 16411641.

Among the happy wits this age hath ſhown.

Great, dear, ſweet Bartas thou art matchleſs known

My raviſh’d Eyes and heart with faltering tongue,

In humble wiſe have vow’d their ſervice long,

But knowing th’ task ſo great, & ſtrength but ſmall,

Gave o’re the work before begun withal,

My dazled ſight of late review’d thy lines,

Where Art, and more then Art, in nature ſhines,

Reflection from their beaming Altitude,

Did thaw my frozen hearts ingratitude;

Which N8r 207

Which Rayes darting upon ſome richer ground,

Had cauſed flours and fruits ſoon to abound;

But barren I my Daſey here do bring,

A homely flour in this my latter Spring,

If Summer or my Autumn age do yield,

Flours, fruits in Garden, Orchard, or in Field,

They ſhall be conſecrated in my Verſe,

And proſtrate offered at great Bartas Herſe;

My muſe unto a Child I may compare,

Who ſees the riches of ſome famous Fair,

He feeds his Eyes, but underſtanding lacks

To comprehend the worth of all thoſe knacks:

The glittering plate and Jewels he admires,

The Hats and Fans, the Plumes and Ladies tires,

And thouſand times his mazed mind doth wiſh

Some part (at leaſt) of that brave wealth was his,

But ſeeing empty wiſhes nought obtain,

At night turns to his Mothers cot again

And tells her tales, (his full heart over-glad)

Of all the glorious ſights his Eyes have had:

But finds too ſoon his want of Eloquence,

The ſilly pratler ſpeaks no word of ſenſe,

But ſeeing utterance fail his great deſires,

Sits down in ſilence, deeply he admires:

Thus weak brain’d I, reading thy lofty ſtile,

Thy profound learning, viewing other while;

Thy Art in natural Philoſophy,

They Saint like mind in grave Divinity;

Thy piercing skill in high Aſtronomy,

And curious inſight in Anatomy:

Thy N8v 208

Thy Phyſick, muſick and ſtate policy,

Valour in warr, in peace good husbandry.

Sure lib’ral Nature did with Art not ſmall,

In all the arts make thee moſt liberal.

A thouſand thouſand times my ſenſleſs ſences

Moveleſs ſtand charm’d by thy ſweet influences;

More ſenſleſs then the ſtones to Amphions Lute,

Mine eyes are ſightleſs, and my tongue is mute,

My full aſtoniſh’d heart doth pant to break,

Through grief it wants a faculty to ſpeak:

Volleyes of praiſes could I eccho then,

Had I an Angels voice, or Bartas pen:

But wiſhes can’t accompliſh my deſire,

Pardon if I adore, when I admire.

O France thou did’ſt in him more glory gain

Then in thy Martel, Pipin, Charlemain,

Then in St. Lewes, or thy laſt Henry Great,

Who tam’d his foes in warrs, in bloud and ſweat.

Thy fame is ſpread as far, I dare be bold,

In all the Zones the temp’rate hot and cold.

Their Trophies were but heaps of wounded ſlain,

Thine, the quinteſſence of an heroick brain.

The oaken Garland ought to deck their brows,

Immortal Bayes to thee all men allows.

Who in thy tryumphs never won by wrongs,

Lead’ſt millions chaind by eyes, by ears, by tongues

Oft have I wondred at the hand of heaven,

In givign one what would have ſerved ſeven.

If e’re this golden gift was ſhowr’d on any,

Thy double portion would have ſerved many.

Unto O1r 209

Unto each man his riches is aſſign’d

Of Name, of State, of Body and of Mind:

Thou hadſt thy part of all, but of the laſt,

O pregnant brain, O comprehenſion vaſt:

Thy haughty Stile and rapted wit ſublime

All ages wondring at, ſhall never climb.

Thy ſacred works are not for imitation,

But Monuments to future Admiration.

Thus Bartas fame ſhall laſt while ſtarrs do ſtand,

And whilſt there’s Air or Fire, or Sea or Land.

But leaſt mine ignorance ſhould do thee wrong,

To celebrate thy merits in my Song.

I’le leave thy praiſe to thoſe ſhall do thee right,

Good will, not skill, did cauſe me bring my Mite.

His Epitaph.

Here lyes the Pearle of France, Parnaſſuse Glory;

The World rejoyc’d at’s birth, at’s death was ſorry,

Art and Nature joyn’d, by heavens high decree

Now ſhew’d what once they ought, Humanity:

And Natures Law, had it been revocable

To reſcue him from death, Art had been able.

But Nature vanquiſh’d Art, ſo Bartas dy’d,

But Fame out-living both, he is reviv’d.

O In O1v 210

In Honour of that High and Mighty Princeſs Queen Elizabeth Of Happy Memory.

The Proeme.

Although great Queen thou now in ſilence lye

Yet thy loud Herald Fame doth to the sky

Thy wondrous worth proclain in evry Clime,

And ſo hath vow’d while there is world or time.

So great’s thy glory and thine excellence,

The ſond thereof rapts every humane ſence,

That men account it no impiety,

To ſay thou wert a fleſhly Diety:

Thouſands bring offerings (though out of date)

Thy world of honours to accumulate,

’Mongſt hundred Hecatombs of roaring verſe,

Mine bleating ſtands before thy royal Herſe.

Thou never didſt nor canſt thou now diſdain

T’ accept the tribute of a loyal brain.

Thy clemency did yerſt eſteem as much

The acclamations of the poor as rich,

Which makes me deem my rudeneſs is no wrong,

Though I reſound thy praiſes ’mongſt the throng.

The O2r 211

The Poem.

No Phœnix pen, or Spencers poetry,

No Speeds nor Cambdens learned Hiſtory,

Elizahs works, warrs praiſe, can e’re compact,

The World’s he Theatre where ſhe did act.

No memoryes nor volumes can contain

The ’leven Olympiads of her happy reign:

Who was ſo good, ſo juſt, ſo learn’d ſo wiſe,

From all the Kings on earth ſhe won the prize

Nor ſay I more then duly is her due,

Millions will teſtifie that this is true.

She hath wip’d off th’aſperſion of her Sex,

That women wiſdome lack to play the Rex:

Spains Monarch ſayes not ſo, nor yet his hoſt:

She taught them better manners, to their coſt.

The Salique law, in force now had not been,

If France had ever hp’d for ſuch a Queen.

But can you Doctors now this point diſpute,

She’s Argument enough to make you mute.

Since firſt the ſun did run his nere run race,

And earth had once a year, a new old face,

Since time was time, and man unmanly man,

Come ſhew me ſuch a Phœnix if you can?

Was ever people better rul’d then hers?

Was ever land more happy freed from ſtirrs?

Did ever wealth in England more abound?

Her victoryes in forreign Coaſts reſound,

Ships more invincible then Spain’s her foe

She wrackt, ſhe ſackt, ſhe ſunk his Armado:

O2 Her O2v 212

Her ſtately troops advanc’d to Lisbons wall

Don Anthony in’s right there to inſtall

She frankly helpt, Franks brave diſtreſſed King,

The States united now her fame do ſing,

She their Protectrix was, they well do know

Unto our dread Virago what they owe.

Her Nobles ſacrific’d their noble blood,

Nor men nor Coyn ſhe ſpar’d to do them good.

The rude untamed Iriſh, ſhe did quel.

Before her picture the proud Tyrone fell.

Had ever prince ſuch Counſellours as ſhe?

Her ſelf Minerva caus’d them ſo to be.

Such Captains and ſuch ſouldiers never ſeen,

As were the Subjects of our Pallas Queen.

Her Sea-men through all ſtraights the world did round;

Terra incognita might know the ſound.

Her Drake came laden home with Spaniſh gold:

Her Eſſex took Cades, their Herculean Hold:

But time would fail me, ſo my tongue would to,

To tell of half ſhe did, or ſhe could doe.

Semiramis to her, is but obſcure,

More infamy then fame, ſhe did procure.

She built her glory but on Babels walls,

Would wonder for a while, but yet it falls.

Fierce Tomris (Cyrus heads-man) Scythians queen,

Had put her harneſs off, had ſhee but ſeen

Our Amazon in th’ Camp of Tilbury,

Judging all valour and all Majeſty

Within that Princeſs to have reſidence,

And proſtrate yieled to her excellence.

Dido O3r 213

Dido firſt Foundreſs of proud Cartage walls,

(Who living conſummates her Funeralls)

A great Eliza but compar’d with ours,

How vaniſheth her glory, wealth and powers.

Profuſe proud Cleopatra, whoſe wrong name,

Inſtead of glory, prov’d her Countryes ſhame:

Of her what worth in Storyes to be ſeen,

But that ſhe was a rich Egyptian Queen.

Zenobya potent Empreſs of the Eaſt,

And of all theſe, without compare the beſt,

Whom none but great Aurelius could quel;

Yet for our Queen is no fit Parallel.

She was a Phoenix Queen, ſo ſhall ſhe be,

Her aſhes not reviv’d, more Phoenix ſhe.

Her perſonal perfections, who would tell,

Muſt dip his pen in th’ Heleconian Well,

Which I may not, my pride doth but aſpire

To read what others write, and ſo admire.

Now ſay, have women worth? or have they none?

Or had they ſome, but with our Queen is’t gone?

Nay Maſculines, you have thus taxt us long,

But ſhe , though dead, will vindicate our wrong.

Let ſuch as ſay our Sex is void of Reaſon,

Know tis a Slander now, but once was Treaſon.

But happy England which had ſuch a Queen;

Yea happy, happy, had thoſe dayes ſtill been;

But happineſs lyes in a higher ſphere,

Then wonder not Eliza moves not here.

Full fraught with honour, riches and with dayes

She ſet, ſhe ſet, like Titan in his rayes.

O3 No O3v 214

No more ſhall riſe or ſet ſo glorious ſun

Untill the heavens great revolution.

If then new things their old forms ſhall retain,

Eliza ſhall rule Albion once again.

Her Epitaph.

Here ſteps The Queen, this is the Royal Bed,

Of th’ Damask Roſe, ſprung from the white and red,

Whoſe ſweet perfume fills the all-filling Air:

This Roſe is wither’d, once ſo lovely fair.

On neither tree did grow ſuch Roſe before,

The great was our gain, or loſs the more.


Here lyes the pride of Queens, Pattern of Kings,

So blaze it Fame, here’s feathers for thy wings.

Here lyes the envi’d, yet unparalled Prince,

Whoſe living virtues ſpeak, (though dead long ſince)

If many worlds, as that Fantaſtick fram’d,

In every one be her great glory fam’d.

David O4r 215

Davids Lamentation for Saul and Jonathan.

Alas ſlain is the Head of Iſrael,

Illuſtrious Saul whoſe beauty did excell,

Upon thy places mountainous and high,

How did the Mighty fall, and falling dye?

In Gath let not this things be ſpoken on,

Nor publiſhed in ſtreets of Askalon,

Leſt the dauthters of the Philiſtines rejoyce,

Leſt the uncircumcis’d lift up their voice.

O Gilbo Mounts, let never pearled dew,

Nor fruitfull ſhowres your barren tops beſtrew,

Nor fields of offrings ever on you grown,

Nor any pleaſant thing e’re may you ſhow;

For there the Mighty Ones did ſoon decay,

The ſhiedl of Saul was vilely caſt away,

There had his dignity ſo ſore a ſoyle,

As if his head ne’re felt the ſacred oyle.

Sometimes from crimſon blood of gaſtly ſlain,

The bow of Jonathan ne’re trun’d in vain:

Nor from the fat, and ſpoils of Mighty men

With bloodleſs ſword did Saul turn back agen.

O4 Plea O4v 216

Pleaſant and lovely, were thy both in life,

And in their death was founnd no parting ſtrife.

Swifter then ſwifteſt Eagles ſo were they,

Stronger then Lions ramping fro their prey.

O Iſraels Dames, o’reflow your beauteous eyes

For valiant Saul who on Mount Gilbo lyes,

Who cloathed you in Cloath of richeſt Dye,

And choice delights, full of variety,

On your array put ornaments of gold,

Which made you yet more beauteous to behold

O! how in Battle did the mighty fall

In midſt of ſtrength not ſuccoured at all.

O lovely Jonathan! how waſt thou ſlain?

In places high, full low thou didſt remain.

Diſtreſt for thee I am, dear Jonathan,

Thy love was wonderfull, ſurpaſſing man,

Exceeding all the love that’s Feminine,

So pleaſant haſt thou been, dear brother mine,

How are the mighty fall’n into decay?

And warlike weapons periſhed away?

To O5r 217

To the Memory of my dear and ever honoured Father Thomas Dudley Eſq; Who deceaſed, 1653-07-31July 31. 1653 and of his Age, 77.

By duty bound, and not by cuſtom led

To celebrate the praiſes of the dead,

My mournfull mind, ſore preſt, in trembling verſe

Preſents my Lamentations at his Herſe,

Who was my Father, Guide, Inſtructer too,

To whom I ought whatever I could doe:

Nor is’t Relation near my hand ſhall tye;

For who more cauſe to boaſt his worth then I?

Who heard or ſaw, obſerv’d or knew him better?

Or who alive then I, a great debtor?

Let malice bite, and envy knaw its fill.

He was my Father, and Ile praiſe him ſtill.

Nor was his name, or life lead ſo obſcure

That pitty might ſome Trumpeters procure.

Who after death might make him falſly ſeem

Such as in life, no man could juſtly deem.

Well known and lov’d, where ere he liv’d, by moſt

Both in his native, and in foreign coaſt

Theſe to the world his merits could make known,

So needs no Teſtimonial from his own;

But now or never I muſt pay my Sum;

While others tell his worth, I’le not be dumb:

One O5v 218

One of thy Founders, him New-England know,

Who ſtaid thy feeble ſides when thou waſt low

Who ſpent his ſtate, his ſtrength, & years with care

That After-comers in them might have ſhare.

True Patriot of this little Commonweal,

Who is’t can tax thee ought, but for thy zeal?

Truths friend thou wert, to errors ſtil a foe,

Which caus’d Apoſtates to malign ſo.

Thy love to true Religion e’re ſhall ſhine,

My Fathers God, be God of me and mine.

Upon the earth he did not build his neſt,

But as a Pilgrim what he had, poſſeſt.

High thoughts he gave no harbour in his heart,

Nor honours pufft him up, when he had part:

Thoſe titles loath’d, which ſome too much do love

For truly his ambition lay above.

His humble mind ſo lov’d humility,

He left it to his race for Legacy:

And oft and oft, with ſpeeches mild and wiſe,

Gave his in charge, that Jewel rich to prize.

No oſtentation ſeen in all his wayes,

As in the mean ones of our fooliſh dayes,

Which all they have, and more ſtill ſet to view,

Their greatneſs may be judgd by what they ſhew.

His thoughts were more ſublime, his actions wiſe,

Such vanityes he juſtly did deſpiſe.

Nor wonder ’twas, low things ne’r much did move

For he a Manſion had, prepar’d above

For which he ſigh’d and pray’d & long’d full ſore

He might be cloath’d upon, for evermore.

Oft O6r 219

Oft ſpake of death, and with a ſmiling chear,

He did exult his end was drawing near,

Now fully ripe as ſhock of wheat thats grown,

Death as a Sickle hath him timely mown,

And in celeſtial Barn hath hous’d him high,

Where ſtorms, nor ſhowrs nor ought can damnifie.

His Generation ſerv’d his labours ceaſe;

And to his Fathers gathered is in peace.

Ah happy Soul, ’mongſt Saints and Angels bleſt,

Who after all his toyle, is now at reſt:

His hoary head in righteouſneſs was ſound:

As joy in heaven on earth let praiſe reſound.

Forgotten never be his memory,

His bleſſing reſt on his poſterity:

His pious Footſteps followed by his race,

Where we with joy each other face ſhall ſee,

And parted more by death ſhall never be.

His Epitaph.

Within thi Tomb a Patriout lyes

That was both pious, juſt and wiſe,

To Truth a ſhield, to right a Wall,

To Sectrayes a whip and Maul,

A Magazine of Hiſtory,

A Prizer of good Company

In manners pleaſant and ſevere

The Good him lov’d, the bad did fear,

And when his time with years was ſpent

If ſome rejoyc’d, more did lament.

An O6v 220

An Epitaph On my dar and ever honoured Mother Mrs. Dorothy Dudley, Who deceaſed 1643-12-27Decemb.27.1643. and of her age, 61

Here lyes,

A Worthy Matron of unſpotted life,

A loving Mother and obedient wife,

A friendly Neighbor, pitiful to poor,

Whom oft ſhe fed, and clothed with her ſtore;

To Servants wiſely aweful, but yet kind,

And as they did, ſo they reward did find:

A true Inſtructor of her Family,

The which ſhe orderd with dexterity.

The publick meetings ever did frequent,

And in her Cloſet conſtant hours ſhe ſpent;

Religious in all her words and wayes,

Preparing ſtill for death, till end of dayes:

Of all her Children, Children, liv’d to ſee,

Then dying, left a bleſſed memory.

Contemplations. O7r 221


Some time now paſt in the Autumnal Tide,

When Pœbus wanted but one hour to bed,

The trees all richly clad, yet void of pride,

Where gilded o’re by his rich golden head.

Their leaves & fruits ſeem’d painted, but was true

Of green, of red, of yellow, mixed hew,

Rapt were my ſences at this delectable view.


I wiſt not what to wiſh, yet ſure thought I,

If ſo much excellence abide below;

How excellent is he that dwells on high?

Whoſe power and beauty by his works we know.

Sure he is goodneſs, wiſdome glory, light,

That hath this under world so richly dight:

More Heaven then Earth was her, no winter & no night.


Then on a ſtately Oak I caſt mine Eye,

Whoſe ruffling top the Clouds ſeem’d to aſpire:

How long ſince thou waſt in thine Infancy?

Thy ſtrength, and ſtature, more thy years admire,

Hath hundred winters paſt ſince thou waſt born

Or thouſand ſince thou brak3ſt thy ſhell of horn,

If ſo, all theſe as nought, Eternity doth ſcorn.

4 The O7v 222


Then higher on the gliſtering Sun I gaz’d,

Whoſe beams was ſhaded by the leavie Tree,

The more I look’d, the more I grew amaz’d,

And ſoftly ſaid, what glory’s like to thee?

Soul of this world, this Univerſes Eye,

No wonder ſome made thee a Deity:

Had I not better known, (alas) the ſame had I.


Thou as a Bridegroom from thy Chamber ruſhes,

And as a ſtrong man, joyes to run a race,

The morn doth uſher thee, with ſmiles & bluſhes,

The Earth reflects her glances in thy face.

Birds infects, Animals with Vegative,

Thy heart from death and dulneſs doth revive:

And in the darkſome womb of fruitful nature dive.


Thy ſwift Annual, and diurnal Courſe,

Thy daily ſtreight, and yearly oblique path

Thy pleaſing fervor, and thy ſcorching force,

All mortals here the feeling knowledg hath

Thy preſence makes it day, thy abſence night,

Quaternal Seaſons cauſe by thy might:

Hail Creature, full of ſweetneſs, beauty & delight.


Art thou ſo full of glory, that no Eye

Hath ſtrength, thy ſhining Rayes once to behold?

And is thy ſplendid Throne erect ſo high?

As to approach it, can no eartly mould.

How full of glory then muſt thy Creator be?

Who gave this bright light luſter unto thee:

Admir’d, ador’d for ever, be that Majeſty.

8 Silent O8r 223


Silent alone, where none or ſaw or heard,

In pathleſs paths I lead my wandring feet,

My humble Eyes to lofty Skyes I rear’d

To ſing ſome Song, my mazed Muſe thought meet.

My great Creator I would magnifie,

That nature had, thus decked liberally:

But Ah, and Ah, again, my imbecility!


I heard the merry graſho[[er then ſing

The black clad Cricket, bear a ſecond part,

They kept one tune, and plaid on the ſame ſtring.

Seeming to glory in their little Art.

Shall Creatures abject, thus their voices raiſe?

And in their kind reſound their makers praiſe:

Whilſt I as mute, can warble forth no higher layes.


When preſent times look back to Ages paſt,

And men in being fancy thoſe are dead,

It makes things gone perpetually to laſt

And calls back moneths and years that long ſince fled

It makes a man more aged in conceit,

Then was Methuſela or’s grand-ſire great:

While of their perſons & their acts his mind doth treat.


Sometimes in Eden fair, he ſeems to be,

Sees glorious Adam there made Lord of all,

Fancyes the Apple, dangle on the Tree,

That turn’d his Sovereign to a naked thral.

Who like a miſcreant’s driven from that place,

To get his bread with pain, and ſweat of face

A penalty impos’d on his backſliding Race.

12 Here O8v 224


Here ſits our Grandame in retired place,

And in her lap, her bloody Cain new born,

The weeping Imp oft looks her in the face.

Bewails his unknown hap, and fate forlorn;

His Mother ſighs, to think of Paradiſe,

And now ſhe loſt her bliſs, to be more wiſe,

Believing him that was, and is, Father of lyes.


Here Cain and Abel came to ſacrifice,

Fruits of the Earth, and Fatlings each do bring,

On Abels gift the fire deſcends from Skies,

But no ſuch ſign on falſe Cain’s offering;

With ſullen hateful looks he goes his wayes.

Hath thouſand thoughts to end his brothers dayes,

Upon whoſe blood his future good he hopes to raiſe


There Abel keeps his ſheep, no ill he thinks,

His brother comes, then acts his fratricide,

The Virgin Earth, of blood her firſt draught drinks

But ſince that time ſhe often hath been cloy’d;

The wretch with gaſtly face and dreadful mind,

Thinks each he ſees will ſerve him in his kind,

Though none on Earth but kindred near then could he find.


Who fancyes not his looks now at the Barr,

His face like death, his heart with horror fraught,

Nor Male-factor ever felt like warr,

When deep diſpair, with wiſh of life hath ſought,

Branded with guilt and cruſht with treble woes,

A Vagabond to Land of Nod he goes

A City builds, that wals might him ſecure from foes.

16 Who P1r 225


Who thinks not oft uupon the Fathers ages.

Their long deſcent how nephews ſons they ſaw,

The ſtarry obſervations of thoſe Sages,

And how their precepts to their ſons were law,

How Adam ſigh’d to ſee his Progeny,

Cloath’d all in his black ſinfull Livery,

Who neither guilt, nor yet the puniſhment could fly.


Our Life compare we with their length of dayes

Who to the tenth of theirs doth nw arrive?

And though thus ſhort, we ſhorten many wayes,

Living ſo little while we are alive;

In eating, drinking, ſleeping, vain delight

So unawares comes on perpetual night,

And puts all pleaſures vain unto eternal flight.


When I behold the heavens as in their prime.

And then the earth (though old) ſtil clad in green,

The ſtones and trees, inſenſible of time,

Nor age nor wrinkle on their front are ſeen;

If winter come and greeneſs then do fade,

A Spring returns, and they more youthfull made,

But Man grwos old, lies down, remains where once he’s laid.


By birth more noble then thoſe creatures all,

Yet ſeems by nature and by cuſtome curs’d,

No ſooner born, but grief and care makes fall

That ſtate obliterate he had at firſt.

Nor youth, nor ſtrength, nor wiſdom ſpring again

Nor habitations long their names retain.

But in oblivion to the final day remain.

P Shall P1v 226


Shall I then praiſe the heavens the trees, the earth

Becauſe their beauty and their ſtrength laſt longer

Shall I wiſh ther, or never to had birth,

Becauſe they’re bigger, & their bodyes ſtronger?

Nay, they ſhall darken, periſh, fade and dye,

And when unmade, ſo ever ſhall they lye,

But man was made for endleſs immortality.


Under the cooling ſhadow of a ſtately Elm

Cloſe ſate I by a goodly Rivers ſide.

Where gliding ſtreams the Rocks did overwhelm;

A lonely place, with pleaſures dignifi’d.

I once that lov’d the ſhady woods ſo well,

Now thought the rivers did the trees excel,

And if the ſun would evre ſhine, there would I dwell.


While on the ſtealing ſtream I fixt mine eye.

Which to the long’d for Ocean held its courſe,

I markt, nor crooks, nor rubs that there did lye

Could hinder ought, but ſtill augment its force

O happy Flood, quoth I, that holds thy race

Till thou arrive at thy beloved place.

Nor is it rocks or ſhoals that can obſtruct thy pace


Nor is’t enough, that thou alone may’ſt ſlide,

But hunderd brooks in thy cleer waves do meet,

So hand in hand along with thee they glide

To Thetis houſe, where all imbrace and greet:

Thou Emblem true, of what I count the beſt,

Or could I lead my Rivolets to reſt,

So may we preſs to that vaſt manſion, ever bleſt.

Ye P2r 227


Ye Fiſh which in this liquid Region ’bide,

That for each ſeaſon, have your habitation,

Now ſalt, now freſh where you think beſt to glide

To unknown coaſts to give a viſitation,

In Lakes and pponds you leave your numerous fry,

So nature taught and yet you know not why,

You watry folk that know not your felicity.


Look how the wantons frisk to taſt the air,

Then to the colder bottome ſtreight they dive,

Eftſoon to Neptun’s glaſſie Hall repair

To ſee what trade they great ones there to drive,

Who forrage o’re the ſpacious ſea-green field,

And take the trembling prey before it yield,

Whoſe armour is their ſcales, their ſpreading ſins their ſhield.


While muſing thus with contemplation fed,

And thouſand fancies buzzing in my brain,

The ſweet-tongu’d Philomel percht ore my head,

And chanted forth a more melodious ſtrain

Which rapt me ſo with wonder and delight,

I judg’d my hearing better then my ſight,

And wiſht me wings with her a while toake my flight.


O merry Bird (ſaid I) that fears no ſnares,

That neither toyles nor hoards up in thy barn,

Feels no sad thoughts, nor cruciating cares

To gain more good, or ſhun what might thee harm

Thy cloaths ne’re wear, thy meat is everywhere.

Thy bed a bough thy drink the water cleer,

Reminds not what is paſt, nor whats to come doeſt fear

P2 The P2v 228


The dawning morn with ſongs thou doſt prevent,

Sets hundred notes unto thy feathered crew,

So each one tunes his pretty inſtrument,

And warbling out the old began anew,

And thus they paſs their youth in ſummer ſeaſon,

Then follow thee into a better Region.

where winter’s never felt by that ſweet airy legion.


Man at the beſt a creature frail and vain,

In knowledg ignorant, in ſtrength but weak,

Subject to ſorrows, loſwſes, ſickneſs, pain,

Each ſtorm his ſtate, his mind, his body break.

From ſome of theſe he never finds ceſſation,

But day or night, within, without, vexation,

Troubles from foes, from friends, from deareſt, near’ſt Relation


And yet this ſinfull creature, fril and vain,

This lump of wretchedneſs, of ſin and ſorrow

This weather-beaten veſſel wrackt with pain,

Joyes not in hope of an eternal morrow,

Nor all his loſſes, croſſes and vexation.

In weight, in frequency and long duration

Can make him deeply groan for that divine Tranſlation


The Mariner that on ſmooth waves doth glide,

Sings merrily, and ſteers his Barque wwith eaſe,

As if he had command of wind and tide,

And now become great Maſter of the ſeas;

But ſuddenly a ſtorm ſpoiles all the ſport.

And makes him long for a more quiet port.

Which ’gainſt all adverſe winds may ſerve for fort.

So P3r 229


So he that faileth in this world of pleaſure,

Feeding on ſweets, that never bit of th’ ſowre,

That’s full of friends, of honour and of treaſure,

Fond fool, he takes this earth ev’n for heav’ns bower.

But ſad affliction comes & makes him ſee

Here’s neither honour, wealth, nor ſafety;

Only above is found all with ſecurity.


O Time the fatal wrack of mortal things,

That draws oblivions curtains over kings,

Their ſumptuous monuments, men know them not,

Their names without a Record are forgot.

Their parts, their ports, their pomp’s all laid in th’ duſt

Nor wit nor gold, nor buildings ſcape times ruſt,

But he whoſe name is grav’d in the white ſtone

Shall laſt and ſhine when all of theſe are gone.

The Fleſh and the Spirit.

In ſecret place where once I ſtood

Cloſe by the Banks of the Lacrim flood

I heard two ſiſters reaſon on

Things that are paſt, and things to come;

One fleſh was call’d, who had her eye

On worldly wealth and vanity;

The other Spirit, who did rear

Her thoughts unto a higher ſphear

Siſter, quoth Fleſh, what liv’ſt thou on

Nothing but Meditation?

Both P3v Doth Contemplation feed thee ſo

Regardedly to let earth goe?

Can Speculation ſatiſfy

Notion without Reality?

Doſt dream of things beyond the Moon

And doſt thou hope to dwell there ſoon?

Haſt treaſures there laid up in ſtore

That all in th’ world thou count’ſt but poor

Art fancy ſick or turn’d a Sot

To catch at ſhadowes which are not?

Come, come, Ile ſhew unto thy fence,

Induſtry hath its recompence.

What canſt deſire, but thou maiſt ſee

True ſubſtance in variety?

Doſt honour like? acquire the ſame,

As ſome to their immortal fame:

And trophyes to they name erect

Which wearing time ſhall nere deject

For riches doſt thou long full ſore?

Behold enough of precious ſtore.

Earth hath more ſilver, pearls and gold,

Then eyes can ſee, or hands can hold.

Affect’s thou pleaſure take thy fill,

Earht hath enough of what you will.

Then let not goe, what thou maiſt find,

For things unknown, only in mind.


Be ſtill thou unregenerete part,

Diſturb no more my ſetled heart,

For I have vow’d, (and ſo will doe)

Thee as a foe, ſtill to purſue

Am P4r 231

And combate with thee will and muſt,

Untill I ſee thee laid in th’ dust.

Siſters we are, ye twins we be

Yet deadly feud twixt thee and me;

For from one father are we not,

Thou by old Adam waſt begot,

But my ariſe is from above

Whence my dear father I do love.

Thou ſpeakſt me fair but hatſt me ſore,

Thy flatt’ring ſhews Ile truſt no more.

How oft thy ſlave haſt thou me made,

when I believ’d what thou haſt ſaid,

And never had more cauſeof woe

Then when I did what thou bad’ſt doe.

Ile ſtop mine ears at theſe thy charms,

And count them for my deadly harms,

Thy ſinfull pleaſures I doe hate,

Thy riches are to me no bait,

Thine honours doe, nor will I love;

For my ambition lyes above.

My greateſt honour it ſhall be

When Io am victor over thee,

And triumph ſhall, with laurel head,

When thou my Captive ſhalt be led,

How do I live, thou needſt not ſcoff,

For I have meat thou nowſt not off

The hidden Manna I doe eat,

The word of life it is my meat.

My thoughts do yield me more content

Then can thy hours in pleaſure ſpent.

P4 Nor P4v 232

Nor are they ſhadows which I catch,

Nor fancies vain at which I ſnatch,

But reach at things that are ſo hign,

Beyond thy dull Capacity;

Eternal ſubſtance I do ſee,

With which inriched I would be:

Mine Eye doth pierce the heavens, and ſee

What is Inviſible to thee.

My garments are not ſilk nor gold,

Nor ſuch like traſh which Earth doth hold,

But Royal Robes I ſhall have on,

More glorious then the gliſtring Sun;

My Crown not Diamonds, Pearls, and gold,

But ſuch as Angels heads infold.

The City where I hope to dwell,

There’s none on Earth can parallel;

The ſtately Walls both high and ſtrong,

Are made of pretious Jaſper ſtone;

Teh Gate sof Pearl, both rich and clear,

And Angels are for Porters there;

The Streets thereof tranſparent gold,

Such as no Eye did e’re behold,

A Chryſtal River there doth run,

Which doth proceed from the Lambs Throne:

Of Life, there are the waters ſure,

Which ſhall remain for ever pure,

Nor Sun, nor Moon, they have no need,

For glory doth from God proceed:

No Candle there, nor yet Torch light,

For there ſhall be no darkſome night.

From P5r 233

From ſickneſs and imfirmity,

For evermore they ſhall be free,

Nor withering age ſhall e’re come there,

But beauty ſhall be bright and clear;

This City pure is not for thee,

For things unclean there ſhall not be:

If I of Heaven may have my fill,

Take thou the world, and all that will.

The Vanity of all worldly things.

Aa he ſaid vanity, ſo vain ſay I,

Oh! vanity, O vain all under Sky;

Where it the man can ſay, lo I have found

On brittle Earth a Conſolation found

What is’t in honour to be ſet on high?

No, they like Beaſts and Sons of men ſhall dye

And whil’ſt they live, how oft doth turn their fate,

He’s now fcaptive, that was King of late

What is’t in wealth, great Treaſures to brain?

No that’s but labourk, anxious care and pain,

He heaps up richs, and he heaps up ſorrow,

It’s his to day, but who’s his heir to morrow?

What then? Content in pleaſrues canſt thou find,

More vain then all, that’s but to graſp the wind.

The ſenſual ſenſes for a time they pleaſe

Mean while the conſcience rage, who ſhall appeaſe?

What P5v 234

What is’t in beauty? No that’s but a ſnare,

They’re foul enought to day, that once were fair.

What is’t in flowring youth, or manly age?

The firſt is prone to vice, the laſt to rage.

Where is it then, in wiſdom, learning arts?

Sure if on earth, it muſt be in thoſe parts:

Yet theſe the wiſeſt man of men did find

But vanity, vexation of mind.

And he that knowes the moſt, doth ſtill bemoan

He knows not all that here is to be known.

What is it then, to doe as Stoicks tell.

Nor laugh, nor weep, let things go ill or well.

Such Stoics are but Stocks ſuch teaching vain,

While man is man, he ſhall have eaſe or pain.

If not in honour beauty, age nor treaſure

Nor yet in learning wiſdome youth nor pleaſure,

Where ſhall I climb, ſound, ſeek ſearch or find

That Summum Bonum which may ſtay my mind?

Ther eis a path, no vultures eye hath ſeen,

Where Lion fierce, nor lions whelps have been,

Which leads unto that living Cryſtal Fount,

Who drinks thereof, the world doth nought account

The depth & ſea have ſaid tis not in me,

With pearl and gold, it ſhall not valued be.

For Saphire, Onix, Topaz who would change:

Its hid from eyes of men, they count it ſtrange.

Death and deſtruction the ſame hath heard,

But where & what it is, from heaven’s declar’d,

It brings to honour, which ſhall ne’re decay,

It ſtores with wealth which time can’t wear away.

It P6r 235

It yieldeth pleaſures far beyond conceit,

And truly beautifies without deceit,

Nor ſtrength, nor wiſdome nor freſh youth ſhall fade

Nor death ſhall ſee, but are immortal made.

This pearl of price, this tree of lite, this ſpring

]Who is poſſeſſed of, ſhall reign a King

Nor change of ſtate, nor cares ſhall ever ſee,

But wear his crown unto eternity

This ſatiates the Soul, this ſtayes the mind,

And all the reſt, but Vanity we find.

P6v 236

The Author to her Book.

Thou ill-form’d offspring of my feeble brain,

Who after birth did’ſt by my ſide remain,

Till ſnatcht from thence by friends, leſs wiſe then true

Who thee abroad, expos’d to publick view,

Made thee in raggs, halting to th’preſs to trudg,

Where errors were not leſſened (all may judg)

At thy return my bluſhing was not ſmall,

My rambling brat (in print) ſhould mother call,

I caſt thee by as one unfit for light,

Thy Viſage was ſo irkſome in my ſight;

Yet being mine own, at length affection would

Thy blemiſhes amend if ſo I could:

I waſh’d thy face, but more defects I ſaw,

And rubbing off a ſpot, ſtill made a flaw.

I ſtretcht thy joynts to make thee even feet,

Yet ſtill thou run’ſt mroe hobling then is meet;

In better dreſs to trim thee was my mind,

But nought ſave home-ſpun Cloth, i’th’ houſe I find

In this array ’mongſt Vulgars mayſt thou roam

In Criticks hands, beware thou doſt not come;

And take thy way where yet thou art not known,

If for thy Father askt, ſay, thou hadſt none:

And for thy Mother ſhe alas is poor,

Whch caus’d her thus to ſend thee out of door.

P7r 237

Several other Poems made by the Author upon Diverſe Occaſions, were found among her Papers after her Death, which ſhe never meant ſhould come to publick view, amongſt which, theſe following (at the deſire of ſome friends that knew her well) are here inſerted

Upon a Fit of Sickneſs, 1632Anno. 1632. Ætatis ſuæ, 19.

Twice ten years old, notully told

Since nature gave me breath,

My race is run, my thread is ſpun,

lo here is fatal Death.

All men muſt dye, and ſo muſt I

this cannot be revok’d

For Adams ſake, this word God ſpake

when he ſo high provok’d.

Yet live I ſhall, this life’s but ſmall,

in place of higheſt bliſs,

Where I ſhall have all I can crave,

no life is like to this.

For what’s this life, but care and ſtrife?

ſince firſt we cam efrom womb,

Our ſtrength doth waſte, our time doth haſt,

and then we go to th’ Tomb.

O bubble P7v 238

O Bubble blaſt, how long can’ſt laſt?

that alwayes art a breaking,

No ſooner blown, but dead and gone,

ev’n as a word that’s ſpeaking

O whil’ſt I live this grace me give,

I doing good may be.

Then deaths arreſt I ſhall count beſt,

becauſe it’s thy decree;

Beſtwo much coſt there’s nothing loſt,

to make Salvation ſure,

O great’s the gain, though got wtih pain.

comes by profeſſion pure.

The race is run, the field is won,

the victory’s mine I ſee,

For ever know, thou envious foe,

the foyle belongs to thee.

Upon ſome diſtemper of body.

In anguiſh of my heart repleat with woes,

And waſting pains, which beſt my body knows,

In toſſing ſlumbers on my wakeful bed,

Bedrencht with tears that flow’d from mournful head

Till nature had exhauſted all her ſtore,

Then eyes lay dry, diſabled to weep more;

And looking up into his Throne on high,

Who ſendeth help to thoſe in miſery;

He chac’d away thoſe clouds, and let me ſee

My Anchor caſt i’th’ vale with ſafety.

He eas’d my Soul of woe, my fleſh of pain,

And brought me to the ſhore from troubled Main;

Before P8r 239

Before the Birth of one of her Children.

All things within this fading world hath end,

Adverſity doth ſtill our joyes attend;

No tyes ſo ſtrong no friends ſo dear and ſweet,

But with deaths parting blow is ſure to meet.

The ſentence paſt is moſt irrovocable,

A common thing, yet oh inevitable,

How ſoon, my Dear death may my ſteps attend.

How ſoon’t may be thy Lot to loſe thy friend,

We both are ignorant, yet love bids me

Theſe farewell lines to recommend to thee,

That when that knots untyd that made us one,

I may ſeem thine, who in effect am none

And if I ſee not half my dayes that’s due,

What nature would, God grant to yours and you;

The many faults that well you know I have,

Let be interr’d in my oblivions grave,

If any worth or virtue were in me,

Let that live freſhly in thy memory

And when thou feel’ſt no grif, as I no harms.

Yet love thy dead, who long lay in thine arms:

And when thy loſs ſhall be repaid with gains

Look to my little babes my dear remains.

And if thou love thy ſelf, or lovedſt me

Theſe O protect from ſtep Dames injury.

And if chance to thine eyes ſhall bring this verſe,

With ſome ſad ſighs honour my abſent Herſe;

And kiſs this paper for thy loves dear ſake,

Who with ſalt tears this laſt Farewel did take.


P8v 240

To my Dear and loving Husband.

If ever two were one, then ſurely we.

If ever man were lov’d by wife, then thee,

If ever wife was happy in a man,

Compare with me ye woemn if you can.

I prize thy love more then whole Mines of gold,

Or all the riches that the Eaſt doth hold.

My love is ſuch that Rivers cannot quench,

Nor ought but love from thee, give recompence.

Thy love is ſuch I can no way repay,

The heavens reward thee manifold I pray.

Then while we live, in love lets ſo perſever,

That when we live no more, we may live ever.

A Letter to her Husband, abſent upon Publick employment.

My head, my heart, mine Eyes, my life, nay more,

My joy, my Magazine of earthly ſtore,

If two be one, as ſurely thou and I

How ſtayeſt thou there, whilſt I at Ipſwich lye?

So many ſteps, head from the hart to ſever

If but a neck, ſoon ſhould we be together:

I like the earth this ſeaſon, mourn in black,

My Sun is gone ſo far in’s Zodiack,

Whome whilſt I ’joy’d, nor ſtorms, nor froſts I felt,

His warmth ſuch frigid colds did cauſe to melt.

My chilled limbs now nummed lye forlorn:

Return, return ſweet Sol from Capricorn,

Q1r 241

In this dead time, alas, what can I more

Then view thoſe fruits which through thy heat I bore?

Then view thoſe fruits which through thy heat I

Which ſweet contentment yield me for a ſpace,

True living Pictures of their Fathers face.

O ſtrange effect now thou art Southward gone,

I weary grow, the tedious day ſo long;

But when thou Northward to me ſhalt return,

I wiſh my Sun my never ſet but burn

Within the Cancer of my glowing breaſt,

The welcome houſe of him my deareſt gueſt.

Where ever, ever ſtay, and go not thence,

Till natures ſad decree ſhall call thee hence;

Fleſh of thy fleſh, bone of thy bone,

I here, thou there, yet both but one.



Phœbus make haſte, the day’s too long be gone,

The ſilent night’s the fitteſt time for moan;

But ſtay this once, unto my ſuit give ear,

And tell my griefs in either Hemiſphere:

(Adn if the whirling of thy wheels don’t drown’d

The woful accents of my doleful ſound,

If in thy ſwift Carrier thou canſt make ſtay,

I crave this boon, this Errand by the way.

Commend me to the man mroe lov’d then life,

Shew him the ſorrows of his widdowed wife;

My dumpiſh thoughts my groans, my brakiſh tears

My ſobs, my longing hopes, my doubting fears,

And if he love, how can he there abide?

My Intereſt’s more then all the world beſide.

Q He Q1v 242

He that can tell the ſtarrs or Ocean ſand,

Or all the graſs that in the Meads do ſtand,

The leaves in th’ woods, the hail or drops or rain,

Or in a corn-field number every grain.

Or every mote that in the ſun-ſhine hops,

May count my ſighs, and number all my drops:

Tell him, the countleſs ſteps that thou doſt trace,

That once a day, thy Spouſe thou mayſt imbrace;

And when thou canſt not treat by loving mouth,

Thy rayes afar, ſalute her from the ſouth.

But for one moneth I ſee no day (poor ſoul)

Like thoſe far ſcituate under the pole,

Which day by day long wait for thy ariſe,

O how they joy when thou doſt light the skyes.

O Phœbus, hadſt thou but thus long from thine

Reſtrain’d the beams of thy beloved ſhine,

At thy return, if ſo thou could’ſt or durſt

Behold a Chaos blacker then the firſt.

Tell him here’s worſe then a confuſed matter,

His little world’s a fathom under water,

Nought but the fervor of his ardent beams

Hath powerto dry the torrent of theſe ſtreams.

Tell him I would ſay more, but cannot well,

Oppreſſed minds, abrupte――t tales do tell.

Now poſt with double ſpeed, mark what I ſay,

By all our loves conjure him not to ſtay.

Another. Q2r 234243


As loving Hind that (Hartleſs) wants her Deer,

Scuds through the woods and Fern with harkning ear,

Perplext, in every buſh & nook doth pry,

Her deareſt Deer might anſwer ear or eye;

So doth my anxious ſoul, which now doth miſs,

A dearer Dear (far dearer Heart) then this.

Still wait with doubts, & hopes, and failing eye,

His voice to hear, or perſon to diſcry.

Or as the penſive Dove doth all alone

(On withered bough) moſt uncouthly bemoan

The abſence of her Love, and loving Mate,

Whoſe loſs hath made her ſo unfortunate:

Ev’n thus doe I, with many a deep ſad groan

Bewail my turtle true, who now is gone,

His preſence and his ſafe return, ſtill wooes.

With thouſand dolefull ſighs & mournfull Cooes.

Or as the loving Mullet, that true Fiſh,

Her fellow loſt, nor joy nor life do wiſh,

But lanches on that ſhore, there for to dye,

Where ſhe her captive husband doth eſpy.

Mine being gone, I lead a joyleſs life,

I have a loving phere, yet ſeem no wife:

But worſt of all, to him can’t ſteer my courſe,

I here, he there, alas, both kept by force:

Return my Dear, my joy, my only Love,

Unto thy Hind, thy Mullet and thy Dove,

Who neither joyes in paſture, hou?ſe nor ſtreams,

The ſubſtance gone, O me, theſe are but dreams

Q2 Toge- Q2v 244

Together at one Tree, oh let us brouze,

And like two Turtles rooſt within one houſe,

And like the Mullets in one River glide,

Let’s ſtill remain but one, till death divide.

Thy loving Love and Deareſt Dear,

At home, abroad, and every where.


To her Father with ſome verſes.

Moſt truly honoured, and as truly dear,

If worth in me, or ought I do appear,

Who can of right better demand the ſame?

Then may your worthy ſelf from whom it came.

The principle might yield a greater ſum,

Yet handled ill, amounts but to this crum;

My ſtock’s ſo ſmall, I know not how to pay,

My Bond remains in force unto this day;

Yet for part paymetn take this ſimple mite.

Where nothing’s to be had Kings looſe their right

Such is my debt, I may not ſay forgive,

But as I can, I’le pay it while I live:

Such is my bond, none can diſcharge but I,

Yet paying is not payd until I dye.


In Q3r 245

In reference to her Children 1656-06-2323 June, 1656

I had eight birds hatcht in one neſt,

Four Cocks there were, and Hens the reſt,

I nurſt them up with pain and care,

Nor coſt, nor labour did I ſpare,

Till at the laſt they felt their wing.

Mounted the Trees, and learn’d to ſing;

Chief of the Brood then took his flight,

To Regions far and left me quite:

My mounful chirps I after ſend,

Till he return, or I do end,

Leave not thy neſt, thy Dam and Sire,

Fly back and ſing amidſt this Quire.

My ſecond bird did take her flight,

And with her mate flew out of ſight:

Southward they both their courſe did bend,

And Seaſons twain they ther eid ſpend:

Till after blown by Southern gales,

They Northward ſteerd with filled ſayles.

A prettier bird was no where ſeen,

Along the Beach among the treen.

I have a third of colour white,

On whom I plac’d no ſmall delight;

Coupled with mate loving and true,

Hath alſo bid her Dam adieu:

And where Aurora firſt appears,

She now hath percht, to ſpend her years;

Q3 One Q3v 246

One to the Academy flew

To chat among that learned crew.

Ambition moves ſtill in his breaſt

That he might chant above the reſt,

Striving for more then to do well,

That nightingales he might excell.

My fifth, whoſe down is yet ſcarce gone

Is ’mongſt the ſhrubs and buſhes flown,

And as his wings increaſe in ſtrength,

On higher boughs he’l pearch at length

My other three, ſtill with me neſt,

Untill they’r grown, then as the reſt,

Or here or there, they’l take their flight,

As is ordain’d, ſo ſhall they light.

If birds coudl weep, then would my tears

Let others know what are my fears

Leſt this my brood ſome harm ſhould catch,

And be ſurpriz’d for want of watch,

Whilſt pecking corn, and oid of care

They fall un’wares in Fowlers ſnare:

Or whilſt allur’d with bell and glaſs,

The net be ſpread, and caught, alas.

Or leaſt by Lime twigs they be Foyl’d,

Or by ſome greedy hawks be ſpoyl’d.

Or would my young, ye ſaw my breaſt,

And knew what thoughts there ſadly reſt,

Great was my pain when I you bred,

Great was my care, when I you fed,

Long Q4r 247

Long did I keep you ſoft and warm,

An whm wings kept of all harm,

My cares are more, and fears then ever,

My throbs ſuch now, as ’fore were never:

Alas my birds, you wiſdome want,

Of perils you are ignorant,

Oft times in graſs, on trees, in flight,

Sore accidents on you may light.

O to your ſafety have an eye,

So happy may you live and die:

Mean while my dayes in tunes Ile ſpend,

Till my weak layes with me ſhall end.

In ſhady woods I’le ſit and ſing,

And things that paſt, to mind I’le bring.

Once young and pleaſant, as are you,

But former toyes (no joyes) adieu.

My age I will not once lament,

But ſing, my time ſo near is ſpent.

And from the top bough take my flight,

Into a country beyond ſight,

Where old ones, inſtantly grow young,

And there with Seraphims ſet ſong:

No ſeaſons cold, nor ſtorms they ſee;

But ſpring laſts to eternity,

When each of you ſhall in your neſt

Among your young ones take your re2st,

In chirping language, oft them tell,

You had a Dam that lov’d you well,

That did what could be done for young,

And nurſt you up till you were ſtrong,

Q4 And Q4v 248

And ’fore ſhe once would let you fly,

She ſhew’d you joy and miſery;

Taught what was good, and what was ill,

What would ſave life, and what would kill?

Thus gone, amongſt you I may live,

And dead, yet ſpeak, and counſel give:

Farewel my birds, farewell adieu,

I happy am, if well with yonu.


In memory of my dear grand-child Elizabeth Bradſtreet, who deceaſed 1665-08Auguſt, 1665. being a year and a half old.

Farewel dear babe, my hearts too much content,

Farewel ſweet babe, the pleaſure of mine eye,

Farewel fair flower that for a ſpace was lent,

Then ta’en away unto Eternity.

Bleſt babe why ſhould I once bewail thy fate,

Or ſigh the dayes ſo ſoon were terminate;

Sith thou art ſetled in an Everlaſting ſtate.


By nature Trees do rot when they are grown.

And Plumbs and Apples throughly ripe do fall,

And Corn and graſs are in their ſeaſon mown,

And time brings down what is both ſtrong and tall.

But plants new ſet to be eradicate,

And buds new blown, to have ſo ſhort a date,

Is by his hand alone that guides nature and fate.

In Q5r 249

In memory of my dear grand child Anne Bradſtreet Who deceaſed 1669-06-20June 20. 1669 being three years and ſeven Moneths old.

With troubled heart & trembling hand I write,

The Heavens have chang’d to ſorrow my delight.

How oft with diſappointment have I met,

When I on fading things my hopes have ſet?

Experience might ’fore this have made me wiſe,

To value things according to their price:

Was ever ſtable joy yet found below?

Or perfect bliſs without mixture of woe.

I knew ſhe was but as a withering flour,

That’s here to day perhaps gone in an hour;

Like as a bubble or the brittle glaſs,

Or like a ſhadow turning as it was.

More fool then I to lok on that was lent,

As if mine own, when thus impermanent.

Farewel dear child, thou ne re ſhall come to me,

But yet a while, and I ſhall go to thee,

Mean time my throbbing heart’s chear’d up with this

Thou with thy Saviour art in endleſs bliſs.

On Q5v 250

On my dear Grand-child Simon Bradſtreet, Who dyed on 1669-11-1616. Novemb. 1669. being but a moneth, and one day old.

No ſooner came, but gone, and fal’n aſleep,

Acquaintance ſhort, yet parting cau’d us weep,

Three flours, two ſcarcely blown, the laſt i’th’ bud,

Cropt by the’ Almighties hand: yet is he good,

With dreadful awe before him let’s be mute,

Such was his will, but why, let’s not diſpute,

With humble hearts and mouths put in the duſt,

Let’s ſay he’s merciful and well as juſt

He will return, and make up all our loſſes,

And ſmile again, after our bitter croſſes.

Go pretty babe go rest with Siſters twain

Among the bleſt in endleſs joyes remain.


To the memory of my dear Daughter in Law, Mrs. Mercy Bradſtreet, who deceaſed 1669-09-06Sept. 6. 1669. in the 28. year of her Age.

And live I ſtill to ſee relations gone,

And yet ſurvive to ſound this wailing tone,

Ah, woe is me, to write thy Funeral Song,

Who might in reaſon yet have lived long,

I ſaw the branches lopt the Tree now fall,

I ſtood ſo nigh, it cruſht me down withal:

My bruiſed heart lies ſobbing at the Root,

That thou dear Son hath loſt both Tree and fruit:

Thou then on Seas ſailin got forreign Coaſt;

Was ignorant what riches thou hadſt loſt.

But Q6r 251

But ah too ſoon thoſe heavy tydings fly,

To strike thee with amazing miſery;

Oh how I ſimpathize with thy ſad heart,

And in thy griefs ſtill bear a ſecond part:

I loſt a daughter dear, but thou a wife,

Who lov’d thee more (it ſeem’d) then her own life.

Thou being gone, ſhe longer could not be,

Becauſe her Soul ſhe’d ſent along with thee.

One week ſhe only paſt in pain and woe.

And then her ſorrows all at once did go;

A Babe ſhe left before, ſhe ſoar’d above,

The fifth and laſt pledg of her dying love,

E’re nature would, it hither did arrive,

No wonder it no longer did ſurvive.

So with her Children four, ſhe’s nowat reſt,

All freed from grief (I truſt) among the bleſt;

She one hath left, a joy to thee and me,

The Heavens vouchſafe ſhe may ſo ever be,

Chear up (dear Son) thy fainting bleeding heart,

In him alone, that cauſed all this ſmart;

What though thy ſtrokes full ſad & grievous be,

He knows it is the beſt for theee and me.

A Fune-
Q6v 252

A Funeral Elogy, Upon that Pattern and Patron of Virtue, the truely pious, peerleſs & matchleſs Gentlewoman Mrs. Anne Bradſtreet, right Panaretes Mirror of Her Age, Glory of her Sex, whoſe Heaven-born-Soul leaving its earthly Shrine, choſe its native home, and was taken to its Reſt, upon 1672-09-1616th Sept. 1672.

Ask not why hearts turn Magazines of paſſions

And why that grief is clad in ſev’ral faſhions;

Why She on progreſs goes, and doth not borrow

The ſmalleſt reſpite from th’extreams of ſorrow,

Her miſery is got to ſuch an height,

As makes the earth groan to ſupport its weight,

Such ſtorms of woe, ſo ſtrongly have beſet her,

She hath no place for worſe, nor hope for better;

Her comfort is, if any for her be,

That none can ſhew more cauſe of grief then ſhe.

Ask not why ſome in mournfull black are clad;

The Sun is ſet, there needs muſt be a ſhade.

Ask not why every face a ſadneſs ſhrowdes;

The ſetting Sun ore-caſt us hath with Clouds.

Ask Q7r 253

Ask not why the great glory of the Skye

That gilds the ſtarrs with heavenly Alchamy,

Which all the world doth lighten with his rayes,

The Perſian God the Monarch of the dayes;

Ask not the reaſon of his extaſie,

Paleneſs of late, in midnoon Majeſty,

Why that the palefac’d Empreſs of the night

Diſrob’d her brother of his glorious night

Did not the language of the ſtarrs foretel

A mounfull Scœne when they with tears did ſwell?

Did not the glorious people of the Skye

Seem ſenſible of future miſery?

Did not the lowring heavens ſeem to expreſs

The worlds great loſe, and their unhappineſs?

Behold how tears flow from the learned hill,

How the bereaved Nine do daily fill

The boſome of the fleeting Air with groans,

And wofull Accents, which witneſs their moanes.

How doe the Goddeſſes of verſe the learned quire

Lament their rival Quil, which all admire?

Could Maro’s Muſe but hear her lively ſtrain,

He would condemn his works to fire again.

Methinks I hear the Patron of the Spring,

The unſhorn Diety abrupty ſing.

Some doe for anguiſh weep, for anger I

That Ignorance ſhould live, and Art ſhould die.

Black, fatal, diſmal, inauſpicios day,

Unbleſt for ever by Sol’s precious Ray,

Be it the firſt of Miſeries to all;

Or laſt of Life, defam’d for Funeral.

When Q7r 254

When this day yearly comes, let every one,

Caſt in their urne, the black and diſmal ſtone.

Succeeding years as they their circuit goe,

Leap o’re this day, as a ſad time of woe.

Farewell my Muſe, ſince thou haſt left thy ſhrine,

I am unbleſt in one, but bleſt in nine.

Fair Theſpian Ladyes, light your torches all,

Attend your glory to its Funeral,

To court her aſhes with a learned tear,

A briny ſacrifice let not a ſmile appear.

Grave Matron, whoſo ſeeks to blazon thee,

needs not make uſe of witts falſe Heraldry;

Whoſo ſhould give thee all thy worth would ſwell

So high, as ’twould turn the world infidel.

Had he great Maro’s Muſe, or Tully’s tongue,

Or raping numbers like the Thracian Song,

In crowning of her merits he would be

ſumptuouſly poor, low in Hyperbole.

To write is eaſie but to write on thee,

Truth would be thought to forfeit modeſty.

He’l ſeem a Poet that ſhall ſpeak but true;

Hyperbole’s in others, are thy due.

Like a moſt ſervile flatterer he will ſhow

Though he write truth, and make the ſubject, You.

Virtue ne’re dies, time will a Poet raiſe

Born under beter Starrs, ſhall ſing thy prai?ſe.

Praiſe her who liſt, yet he ſhall be a debtor

For Art ne’re feign’d, nor Nature fram’d a better.

Her virtues were ſo great, that they do raiſe

A work to trouble fame, aſtoniſh praiſe.

When Q8r 255

When as her Name doth but ſalute the ear,

Men think that they perfections abſtract hear.

Herbreaſt was a brave Pallace, a Broad-ſtreet,

Where all heroick ample thoughts did meet,

Where nature ſuch a Tenement had tane,

That others ſouls, to hers, dwelt in a lane.

Beneath her feet, pale envy bites her chain,

And poiſon Malice whetts her ſting in vain.

Let every Laurel, every Myrtel bough

Be ſtript for leavest’adorn and load her brow.

Victorious wreathes, which ’cauſe they never fade

Wiſe elder times for Kings and Poets made.

Letnot her happy memory e’re lack

Its worth in Fames eternal Almanack,

Which none ſhall read, but ſtraight their loſs deplore,

And blame their Fates they were not born before.

Do not old men rejoyce their fates did laſt,

And infants too, that theirs did make ſuch haſt,

In ſuch a welcome time to bring them forth,

That they might be a witneſs to her worth.

Who undertakes this ſubject to commend

Shall nothing find ſo hard as how to end.

Finis & non.

John Norton.

Omnia Romanæ fileant Miracula Gentis.