Sack makes men from words
Fall to drawing of swords,
And quarrelling endeth their quaffing;
Whil'st dagger-ale barrels
Beare off many quarrels,
And often turne chiding to laughing.
Sack's drinke for our masters,
All may be ale-tasters;
Good things the more common the better.
Sack's but single broth:
Ale's meat, drink, and cloath,
Say they that know never a letter.
But not to entangle
Old friends till they wrangle,
And quarrell for other men's pleasure;
Let Ale keep his place,
And let Sack have his grace,
So that neither exceed the due measure.
And them that are fat maketh leane : The hungry doth feed,
And, if there be need,
Spent spirits restoreth againe.
Tobacco infused
May safely be used
For purging, and killing of lice:
Not so much as the ashes
But heales cuts and slashes,
And that out of hand in a trice,
The poets of old
Many fables have told
Of the gods and their symposia ; But Tobacco alone,
Had they known it, had gone
For their nectar and ambrosia,
It is not the smack
Of ale, or of sack,
That can with Tobacco compare :
For taste, and for smell,
It beares away the bell
From them both where ever they are. For all their bravado,
That both their noses will wipe Of the praises they desire, Unlesse they conspire
To sing to the tune of his pipe.
Turpe est difficiles habere nugas
THE PRAISES OF A COUNTRY LIFE. HAPPY is he, that from all businesse cleere,
As the old race of mankind were,
With his own oxen tils his sire's left lands,
And is not in the usurer's bands:
Nor, souldier-like, started with new alarms,
Nor dreads the sea's inraged harms:
But flees the barre and courts, with the proud
And waiting chambers of great lords.
The poplar tall, he then doth marrying twine
With the grown issue of the vine;
And with his hooke lops off the fruitlesse race,
And sets more happy in the place:
Or in the bending vale beholds a-farre
The lowing herds there grazing are:
Or the prest honey in pure pots doth keepe
Of earth, and sheares the tender sheepe:
Or when that Autumne thro' the fields lifts round
His head, with mellow apples crown'd,
How plucking peares, his own hand grafted had,
And purple-matching grapes, he's glad!
With which, Priapus, he may thanke thy hands,
And, Sylvane, thine that kept'st his lands!
Then now beneath some ancient oake he may
Now in the rooted grasse him lay,
Whilst from the higher bankes do slide the floods,
The soft birds quarrell in the woods,
The fountaines murmure as the streames do creep, And all invite to easie sleep.
Then when the thund'ring Jove, his snow and Are gathering by the wintry houres; [showres Or hence, or thence, he drives with many a hound Wild bores into his toyles pitch'd round:
Or straines on his small forke his subtill nets
For th' eating thrush, or pit-fals sets:
And snares the fearfull hare, and new-come crane, And 'counts them sweet rewards so ta’ne,
Who (amongst these delights) would not forget
Love's cares, so evill, and so great?
But if, to boot with these, a chaste wife meet
For houshold aid, and children sweet;
Such as the Sabine's, or a sun-burnt blowse,
Some lusty quick Apulian's spouse;
To deck the hallow'd harth with old wood fir'd
Against the husband comes home tir'd;
That penning the glad flock in hurdles by
Their swelling udders doth draw dry:
And from the sweet tub, wine of this yeare takes,
And unbought viands ready makes:
Not Lucrine oysters I could then more prize,
Nor turbot, nor bright golden eyes;
If with bright flouds, the winter troubled much,
Into our seas send any such :
Th' Ionian-god-wit, nor the Ginny hen,
Could not go down my belly then.
More sweet than olives, that new gather'd be
From fattest branches of the tree:
Or the herb sorrell, that loves meadows still,
Or mallows loosing bodies ill :
Or at the feast of bounds, the lambe then slaine,
Or kid forc'd from the woolfe againe,
Among these cates how glad the sight doth come
Of the fed flocks approaching home!
To view the weary oxen draw, with bare
And fainting necks, the turned share!
The wealthy houshold swarme of bondmen met,
And 'bout the steeming chimney set!
These thoughts when usurer Alphius, now about
To turne more farmer, had spoke out
'Gainst the Ides, his moneys he gets in with paine,
At th' Calends puts all out againe.
SALMACIS & HERMAPHRODITUS:
My wanton lines do treat of amorous love,
Such as would bow the hearts of gods above.
Thou, Venus. our great Citheræan queene,
That hourely trip'st on the Idalian greene;
Thou, laughing Erycina, daigne to see.
These verses wholly consecrate to thee:
Temper them so within thy Paphian shrine,
That every lover's eye may melt a line;
Command the god of love, that little king,
To give each verse a sleight touch with his wing;
That as I write, one line may draw the other,
And every word skip nimbly o're another.
There was a lovely boy the nymphs had kept,
That on th' Idalian mountaines oft had slept,
Begot and born by pow'rs that dwelt above,
By learned Mercury on the queene of love.
A face he had that shew'd his parents' fame,
And from them both conjoyn'd he drew his name:
So wondrous faire he was, that (as they say)
Diana being hunting on a day,
She saw the boy upon a green banke lay, him,
And there the virgin huntresse meant to slay him;
Because no nimphs would now pursue the chace,
For all were struck blind with the wanton's face.
He lor'd besides to see the Lician grounds,
And know the wealthy Carians' utmost bounds.
Using to travell thus, one day he found
A christall brook that tril'd along the ground;
A brook that in reflection did surpasse
The cleare reflection of the clearest glasse;
About the side there grew no foggy reeds,
Nor was the front compast with barren weeds,
But living turfe grew all along the side,
And grasse that ever flourish'd in his pride;
Within this brook a beautious nymph did dwell,
Who for her comely feature did excel;
So faire she was, of such a pleasing grace,
So straight a body, and so sweet a face,
So soft a belly, such a lusty thigh,
So large a forehead, such a cristall eye,
So soft and moist a hand, so smooth a brest,
So faire a cheek, so well in all the rest:
That Jupiter would revell in her bower
Were he to spend again his golden shower.
Her teeth were whiter than the morning-milk,
Her lips were softer than the softest silk,
Her haire as far surpast the burnisli'd gold,
As silver doth excell the basest mold;
Jove courted her for her translucent eye,
And told her he would place her in the skie;
Promising her, if she would be his love,
He would ingrave her in the Heavens above:
Telling this lovely nymph, that if he would,
He could deceive her in a shower of gold;
Or like a swan come to her naked bed,
And so deceive her of her maidenhead,
But yet because he thought that pleasure best
Where each consenting joines each loving brest,
He would put off that all commanding crowne,
Whose terrour stroke th' aspiring giants down;
That glitt'ring crown whose radiant sight did tosse
Great Pelion from the top of mighty Osse,
He would depose from his world-swaying head,
To tast the amorous pleasure of her bed;
This added, he besides the more to grace her,
Like a bright star he would in Heaven's vault place
her.
By this the proud lascivious nymph was mov'd,
Perceiving that by great love she was lov'd:
And hoping as a star she should e're long
Be stern or gracious to the sea-man's song,
(For mortals still are subject to the eye,
And what it sees they strive to get as high)
She was contented that almighty love
Should have the first and best fruits of her love;
For women may be likned to the yeare,
Whose first fruits still do make the daintiest
cheare.
But yet Astræa first should plight her troath,
For the performance of love's sacred oath ;
Just times, decline, and all good daies are dead,
When heavenly oaths had need be warranted.
This heard great Iupiter and lik'd it well,
And hastily he seeks Astræa's cell,
About the massie Earth searching her tower;
But she had long since left this earthly bower,
And flew to Heaven above, loathing to see
The sinfull actions of humanity:
Which when love did perceive, he left the Earth,
And flew up to the place of his own birth;
The burning heavenly throne, where he did spy
Astrea's pallace in the glitt'ring sky.
This stately tower was builded up on high,
Far from the reach of any mortall eye;
And from the pallace side there did distill
A little water through a little quill,
The dew of justice which did seldom fall,
And when it dropt, the drops were very small:
Glad was great love, when he beheld her tower,
Meaning a while to rest him in her bower;
And therefore sought to enter at her doore,
But there was such a busie rout before,
(Some serving-men, and some promooters be,)
That he could passe no foot without a fee:
But as he goes he reaches out his hands,
And paies each one in order as he stands,
And still as he was paying those before,
Some slipt again betwixt him and the doore:
At length (with much adoe) he past them all,
And entring straight into a spatious hall,
Full of darke angles and of hidden waies,
Crooked meanders, infinite delaies,
All which delaies and entries he must passe
E're he could come where just Astræa was:
All these being past by his immortall wit,
Without her doore he saw a porter sit,
An aged man that long time there had been,
Who us'd to search all those that entred in,
And still to every one he gave this curse,
None must see justice but with empty purse.
This man searcht love for his own private gaine,
To have the money which did yet remaine,
Which was but small, for much was spent before
On the tumultuous rout that kept the doore;
When he had done he brought him to the place
Where he might see divine Astræa's face,
There the great king of gods and men in went,
And saw his daughter Venus there lament,
And crying loud for justice, whom Jove found
Kneeling before Astræa on the ground,
And still she cried and begg'd for a just doome
Against black Vulcan, that unseemely groome,
Whom she had chosen for her only love,
Though she was daughter to great thundring Jove;
And though the fairest goddesse, yet content'
To marry him though weake and impotent:"
But for all this they alwaies were at strife,
For evermore he rail'd at her his wife,
Telling her still "thou art no wife of mine,
Another's strumpet, Mars his concubine."
By this Astræa spy'd almighty love,
And bow'd her finger to the queene of love,
To cease her suit which she would heare anon,
When the great king of all the world was gone';
Then she descended from her stately throne,
Which seat was builded all of jasper stone,
And o're the seat was painted all above
The wanton unseene stealths of amorous Jove.
There might a man behold the naked pride
Of lovely Venus in the vale of Ide,
When Pallas and Jove's beauteous wife and she
Strove for the prise of beautie's rarity,
And there lame Vulcan and his Cyclops strove
To make the thunderbolt for mighty Jove;
From this same stately throne she down descended,
And said the griefes of Jove should be amended,
Asking the king of gods what lucklesse cause,
What great contempt of state, what breach of laws,
(For sure she thought some uncouth cause befell
That made him visite poore Astræa's cell)
Troubled his thoughts, and if she might decide it,
Who vext great Jove full dearly should abide it:
Jove only thank'd her, and began to show
His cause of coming, (for each one doth know
The longing words of lovers are not many
If they desire to be enjoy'd of any,)
Telling Astræa, it would now befall
That she might make him blest that blesseth all:
For as he walk'd upon the flowry Earth,
To which his own hands whilome gave a birth,
To see how streight he held it, and how just
He rul'd this massie pondrous heap of dust;
He laid him down by a coole river's side,
Whose pleasant water did so gently slide,
With such soft whispering, for the brooke was deep,
That it had lull'd him in a heavenly sleep.
When first he laid him down there was none neere
him,
(For he did call before, but none could heare him,)
But a faire nymph was bathing when he wak'd,
(Here sight great love, and after brought forth)
nak'd:
He seeing lov'd the nymph, yet here did rest
Where just Astræa might make love be blest,
If she would passe her faithfull word so far
As that great love should make the maid a star;
Astræa yeelded, at which love was pleas'd,
And all his longing hopes and feares were eas'd,
love took his leave and parted from her sight,
Whose thoughts were full of lovers' sweet delight;
And she ascended to the throne above,
To heare the griefes of the great queen of love:
But she was satisfied and would no more
Raile at her husband as she did before;
But forth she tript apace, because she strove
With her swift feet to overtake great love;
She skipt so nimbly as she went to look him,
That at the pallace doore she overtook him;
The way was plaine and broad as they went out,
And now they could see no tumultuous rout.
Here Venus fearing lest the love of love
Should make this maid be plac'd in Heaven above;
Because she thought this nymph so wondrous bright
That she would dazell her accustom'd light,
And fearing now she should not first be seen
Of all the glittering stars as she had been;
But that the wanton nymph would every night
Be first that should salute each mortall sight,
Began to tell great love she griev'd to see
The Heaven so full of his iniquity:
Complaining that each strumpet now was grac'd,
And with immortall goddesses was plac'd,
Intreating him to place in Heaven no more
Each wanton strumpet, and lascivious whore.
Jove, mad with love, minded not what she said,
His thoughts were so intangled with the maid:
But furiously he to his pallace lept,
Being minded there till morning to have slept.
For the next morne so soone as Phoebus' raies
Should yet shine coole by reason of the seas,
And e're the parting teares of Thetis bed
Should be quite shak'd from off his glittering head,
Astraca promis'd to attend great love
At his own pallace in the Heavens above,
And at that pallace she would set her hand
To what the love-sick god should her command:
But to descend to Earth she did deny,
She loath'd the sight of any mortall eye,
And for the compasse of the earthly round
She would not set one foot upon the ground:
Therefore love meant to rise but with the Sun,
Yet thought it long untill the night was done.
In the meane space Venus was drawn along
By her white doves unto the sweating throng
Of hammering blacksmiths, at the lofty hill
Of stately Ætna, whose top burneth still;
For at that mountaine's glittering top
Her cripple husband Vulcan kept his shop;
To him she went, and so collogues that night
With the best straines of pleasure's sweet delight,
That ere they parted she made Vulcan sweare
By dreadfull Styx, (an oath that gods do feare)
If love would make the mortall maid a star,
Himselfe should frame his instruments of war:
He took his oath by black Cocytus lake
He never more a thunderbolt would make;
For Venus so this night his senses pleas'd,
That now he thought his former griefes were eas'd,
She with her hands the blacksmith's body bound,
And with her ivory armes she twin'd him round,
And still the faire queen with a pretty grace
Dispers'd her sweet breath o're his swarthy face;
Her snowy armes so well she did display,
That Vulcan thought they melted as they lay,
Untill the morn in this delight they lay,
Then up they got and hasted fast away
In the white charriot of the queen of love,
Towards the pallace of great thundring love:
Where they did see divine Astræa stand
To passe her word for what love should command
In limp'd the blacksmith, after stept his queen,
Whose light arraiment was of lovely green:
When they were in, Vulcan began to sweare,
By oaths that Jupiter himselfe doth feare,
If any whore in Heaven's bright vault were seen,
To dim the shining of his beauteous queen,
Each mortall man should the great god disgrace,
And mock almighty Jove unto his face:
And giants should enforce bright Heaven to fall
Ere he would frame one thunder-bolt at all;
Jove did intreat him that he would forbeare,
The more he spake the more did Vulcan sweare.
Jove heard the words and 'gan to make his moane,
That mortall men would pluck him from his throne,
Or else he must incur this plague he said,
Quite to forgo the pleasure of the maid;
And once he thought rather than lose those blisses,
Her heavenly sweets, her most delicious kisses,
Her soft embraces, and the amorous nights,
That he should often spend in her delights,
He would be quite thrown down by mortall hands
From the blest place where his bright pallace stands
But afterwards he saw with better sight,
He should be scorn'd by every mortall wight,
If he should want his thunderbolts to beat
Aspiring mortals from his glittering seat;
Therefore the god no more did wee or move her,
But left to seeke her love, though not to love her;
Yet he forgot not that he woo'd the lasse,
But made her twice as beautious as she was,
Because his wonted love he needs would shew.
This have I heard, but yet not thought it true
And whether her cleare beauty was so bright,
That it could dazzle the immortall sight
Of gods, and make them for her love despaire,
I do not know, but sure the maid was faire:
Yet the faire nymph was never seen resort
Unto the savage and the bloudy sport
Of chaste Diana, nor was ever wont
To bend a bow, nor never us'd to hunt;
Nor did she ever strive with pretty cunning
To overgo her fellow nymphs in running:
For she was the faire water nymph alone,
That unto chaste Diana was unknown.
It is reported that her fellows us'd,
To bid her (though the beautious nymph refus'd)
To take a painted quiver, or a dart,
And put her lazie idlenesse apart.
But she would none; but in the fountaines swims,
Where oft she washeth o're her snowy limbs;
Sometimes she comb'd her soft dishevell'd haire,
Which with a fillet ty'd she oft did weare;
But sometimes loose she let it hang behind,
When she was pleas'd to grace the easterne wind,
For up and down it would her tresses hurle,
And as she went it made her loose haire curle:
Oft in the water did she see her face,
And oft she us'd to practice what quaint grace
Might well become her, and what comly feature
Might be best fitting so divine a creature.
Her skin was with a thin vaile over-thrown,
Through which her naked beauty clearly shone;
She us'd in this light raiment as she was
To spread her body on the dewy grasse :
Sometimes by her own fountaines as she walks
She nipt the flowers from off the fertile stalks,
And with a garland of the sweating vine
Sometimes she doth her beautious front entwine;
But she was gathering flow'rs with her white hand,
When she beheld Hermaphroditus stand
By her cleare fountaine wondring at the sight,
That there was any brooke could be so bright,
For this was the bright river where the boy
Did dye himselfe, that he could not enjoy
Himselfe in pleasure, nor could taste the blisses
Of his own melting and delicious kisses.
Here did she see him, and by Venus' law
She did desire to have him as she saw :
But the faire nymph had never seen the place
Where the boy was, nor his inchanting face;
But by an uncouth accident of love
Betwixt great Phoebus and the son of Jove,
(Light-headed Bacchus) for upon a day
As the boy-god was keeping on his way,
Bearing his vine-leaves and ivy bands
To Naxos, where his house and temple stands,
He saw the nymph, and seeing he did stay,
And threw his leaves and ivy bands away.
Thinking at first she was of heavenly birth,
Some goddesse that did live upon the Earth;
Virgin Diana that so lovely shone
When she did court her sweet Endimion;
But he a god, at last did plainly see
She had no marke of immortality:
Unto the nymph went the young god of wine.
Whose head was chaf'd so with the bleeding vine,
That now, or feare, or terrour had he none,
But 'gan to court her as she sat alone;
"Fairer than fairest" (thus began his speech)
Would but your radiant eye please to enrich
My eye with looking, or one glance to give
Whereby my other parts may feed and live,
Or with one sight my senses to enspire,
Far livelier than the stoln Promethean fire;
Then might I live, then by the sunny light
That should proceed from thy chiefe radiant sight
I might survive to ages, but that missing,"
(At that same word he would have fain been kissing)
"I pine (fair nymph.) O never let me dye
For one poore glance from thy translucent eye,
Far more transparent than the clearest brooke:"
The nymph was taken with his golden hook,
Yet she turn'd back and would have tript away,
But Bacchus forc'd the lovely maid to stay,
Asking her why she strugled to be gone,
Why such a nymph should wish to live alone;
Heaven never made her faire that she should vaunt
She kept all beauty, yet would never grant
She should be borne so beautious from her mother,
But to reflect her beauty on another:
"Then with a sweet kisse cast thy beames on me,
And I'le reflect them back again on thee.
At Naxos stands my temple and my shrine,
Where I do presse the lusty swelling vine;
There with green ivy shall thy head be bound,
And with the red grape be incircled round;
There shall Silenus sing unto thy praise
His drunken reeling songs and tipling laies.
Come hither, gentle nymph:" here blusht the maid,
And faine she would have gone, but yet she staid.
Bacchus perceiv'd he had o'recome the lasse,
And down he throws her in the dewy grasse
And kist the helplesse nymph upon the ground,
And would have strai'd beyond that lawfull bound
This saw bright Phoebus, for his glittering eye
Sees all that lies below the starry sky:
And for an old affection that he bore
Unto this lovely nymph long time before,
(For he would oft times in his circle stand,
And sport himselfe upon her snowy hand:)
He kept her from the sweets of Bacchus' bed,
And 'gainst her will he sav'd her maiden-head.
Bacchus perceiving this, apace did hie
Unto the pallace of swift Mercury;
But he did find him far below his birth,
Drinking with theeves and catchpoles on the Earth,
And they were parting what they stole to day,
In consultation for to morrow's prey;
To him went youthfull Bacchus, and begun
To shew his cause of griefe against the Sun,
How he bereft him of his heavenly blisses,
His sweet delight, his nectar-flowing kisses,
And other sweeter sweets, that he had won
But for the malice of the bright fac'd Sun;
Intreating Mercury by all the love
That had him born amongst the sons of Jove,
(Of which they two were part) to stand his friend.
Against the god that did him so offend;
The quaint tongu'd issue of great Atlas' race,
Swift Mercurie, that with delightfull grace,
And pleasing accents of his feigned tongue,
Hath oft reform'd a rude uncivill throng
Of mortals, that great messenger of love,
And all the meaner gods that dwell above,
He whose acute wit was so quick and sharp,
In the invention of the crooked harp:
He that's so cunning with his jesting slights
To steale from heavenly gods, or earthly wights,
Bearing a great hate in his grieved breast
Against that great commander of the west,
Bright fac'd Apollo; for upon a day
Young Mercury did steale his beasts away;`
Which the great god perceiving streight did show
The piercing arrows, and the fearefull bow [him,
That kill'd great Pithon, and with that did threat
To bring his beasts againe, or he would beat him;
Which Mercury perceiving, unespi'd,
Did closely steale his arrows from his side;
For this old grudge he was the easier won
To help young Bacchus 'gainst the fiery Sun:
And now the Sun was in the middle way,
And had o'ercome the one halfe of the day;
Scorching so hot upon the reeking sand
That lies upon the meere Egyptian land,
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