THE SECOND DAY OF THE FIRST Week of the most excellent, learned, and divine Poet, William, Lord Bartas. Done out of French into English Heroical verse by THOMAS WINTER, Master of Artes. Nec verbum verbo curabis reddere fidus Interpres. Hor. de art Poet. LONDON, Printed for james Shaw. 1603. To his Translation. GO little echo of another's voice, Tell in thy mother tongue a stranger's mind. And when thou comest abroad, and findest choice Of readers differing in their various kind, Reeccho back unto the gentle spirit, Such thanks as his judicious skill shall merit. But if thou meet with any dunsing lavell, That is an homager to ignorance, And yet doth enviously presume to cavil, And blunder out such words as these by chance: That he sees not how Bartas doth surpass, Divide his word, and turn him back the Ass. TO THE HONOURABLE hands of the most noble and valorous Knight, Sir Walter Raleigh, Lord Warden of the Stanneries, Captain of her majesties Guard, Lieutenant of the county of Cornwall, and Governor of the I'll of jersey. BEing desirous (my honourable Lord) to exhibit some testimony of that ardent desire which I have to do your Lordship service, I am enforced to imitate that poor man, which wanting better means to express his affection, offered his hands full of running water to Artax●rxes. For, knowing your Lordship's love to learning, (for Ars non habet inimicum nisi ignorantem) and having no invention of mine own, I have boldly adventured to draw water from another man's fountain, and to commend this poor translation to your favourable censure and honourable protection. Which I do the more humbly desire, for that I know your Lordship's honourable name will be a sufficient bulwark against those snarling dogs, Quibus innatum est, ut non pro feritate, sed pro consuetudine latrent, which bark more of custom then of cursedness; which being guilty to themselves of their own imperfections, and having such muddy wits, that a man would swear they were borne at Puddle wharf, do notwithstanding labour to build their own reputation upon other men's disgraces; and by disgorging their malicious censures upon the painful endeavours of all those which either diligently write, or painfully translate, do think to purchase a lease of eternal commendation. I will not blot my paper with any commendation of my Author, who was so noble for his birth, so famous for his learning, and so admirable for his invention; lest I should seem to hang out a bush where good wine is already known to be sold, or to light a candle when the Sun is in his vertical point. For if he prove any where distasteful to your judicious understanding, I must ascribe the fault to myself, which have done him injury, to clothe him with a suit so ill fitting to his proportion. But how mean soever it be, my humble request is, that your Lordship will accept it as a pledge of his dutiful love, which is desirous to be ever at your Lordship's commandment. And so humbly presuming to kiss your fair hands, I pray continually for the happy success of all your honourable designments. Your honours most humbly devoted, TH. WINTER. In Gulielmi Salustij primae Hebdomadis Diem secundum à Thoma Wintero Anglicè reddi●um. QVod tibi materiem tantam, tam nobile pensum Sumpsisti, valde laudo applaudoque libenter. Nominis auspicio quid convenientius aptes, Quam quod nunc proc●dis opus tam divite venâ? Quem potuit decuisse magis tot scribere fumos, Fulmina cum ventis, tempestatesque sonoras, unde repent ruit lapis ille c●●aunius atris Nubibus excussus, cum jupiter intonat altè; Quis melius nimbos & roscida tempora dicat, Atque pruinosos grumos, cùm stiria pendet Et glacies per quam tecti suggrundia squalent; Aeris & quicquid dat contignatio triplex, Quâ Natura locans aeterni frigoris arcem Rorat agros, atque unde iovis distringitur ira: Quam qui fers Hyemis nomen? quip ille putatur Nimborumque nivisque pater plwialibus astris. Phoebus aws, Tellus mater, matertera nubes, Aër circus, ubi sese haec miracula pandunt, Quo natura suam solet exercere palestram. Macte; tuum vatem vates imitare priorem, Floribus ornatus vernantia tempora posthaec Persequere, ut qui nunc nobis tot dira minando Luxuriem mundique decus frondare videris; Obstrictis ventis, & factus, mitior auras Dando salutares, dicare Salustius alter. Io. Sanfordus. In secundi Diei primae Hebdomadis versionem. FRendis Salusti mutatio tanta diei Quod sit facta tuae? quod quae lux unica Gallis Emicuit primò: tandem suffulserit Anglis? Improbus iniustè praecordia livor adurit, Et te Naturae capiunt oblivia sacrae, Quae de vicino fieri vult lumine lumen. Et tamen hos oculo si quis conspexerit aequo Winteri radios, quibus est lux addita luci, Dixerit in Gallis micuisse crepuscula verbis, Sed medium fulsisse diem sub sole Britanno. Ed. Lapworth. Eiusdem de Die translato. EST fraudulenti trahere de die diem, Transferre forsan de Die Diem est scelus: Si sit vel error, error hic culpâ caret, Fietque foelix scelere Translator suo. Ed. Lapw. To the Translator. Heaven, Labour, Art, all jointly did conspire To crown thy verse with neverfading bays: First Gods sweet breath did teach thy Muse t'aspire To carol out Lord Bartas heavenly lays. Then thy high thoughts to second this rare choice, drove forth with matchless pains thy great intent: And last to sing God's notes with Angel's voice, Art did consort to make a full consent. Great choice, great pains, great art, all good, all great▪ All three thy little book do greatly praise: Why strive I then in Honour's chair to seat Thy Muse, which of itself, itself can raise? O then brave imp of Phoebus still pursue Thy great design, advance thy Poetry: Let envious France by reading find this true, That Bartas scorns not our rich livery. Then shall the French an English wonder see, How Winter yields a spring of Poesy. Douglas Castillion. john Davies of Hereford in praise of the Author, and Translator. WInter, a man would think thy works are cold, That did but hear thy name, or know thy kind, But yet such heat this work of thine doth hold, As in a summers day we scarce shall find Among our hote-brained Poets. Thou hast hit Upon that heat (though with another fire) That did inflame the rarest Poets wit, That ere in France (world's garden) did respire. Bartas, the bosom of whose blessed Muse With Homer's sacred fire (refined) did burn: Did (as should seem) into thy breast infuse That fire by touching him; for thou dost turn His heat to thine, and thine to his, if so Both in this Tract translated thou dost show. His opinion Touching translators, and translation. TO turn one tongue t'another is a trick That many tongues-men can in prose perform; But when the tongues on numbered feet do stick, It's hard two tongues discordant to conform. Who word for word, and phrase for phrase translates In verse, may vaunt he earns his Author's fame: But, but few tongues are tied t'our English pates, That can with ease directly do the same. Many translators have we, but not many That turn not th' Author's meaning with his words. Famous were England if she had not any, That to themselves such liberty affords. To translate so, is to adulterate: And all Adulterers God and men do hate. Omne bonum, Dei donum. The Argument. Our Poet intending a Discourse of the world's creation, and having in the first day of this Week indiciously declared that the world had a beginning, against the absurd paradoxes of some doting philosophers, which held that it was from all eternity: and ha●ing both taxed and answered their atheistical curiosity, which busy their ●dle and addle brains, about inquiring what God did before the creation: proving also that there can be but one world, and confuting diverse other errors of the ancients: showeth, that God ●irst made some cònfused matter or Chaos, of which he afterward framed the particular parts of the whole body of this world. And then shortly and sweetly discoursing of the light, the d●y and the night, ●ith the singular commodities redounding to mankind by their successive revolutions, he ends that book with the creation of the Angels. All which being learnedly performed, ●e addresseth himself in this second book to the deciphering of the second days creation. Wherein, first he layeth open th● vanity of the lascivious and wenching pamphleteers of our age, which prodigally spend their precious time, in adorning some degenerate imp●, or loose-living Lady with those honours, which should be only confined to virtuous designments. Then he invoketh the assistance of God's spirit, and briefly proposing his chaste intention, falls directly to the handling of the ●lements, their number and composition in mixed bodies; of the commodity and inconvenience of their agreeing or disagreeing proportions in man's body: then reasoning of their continuance, he refutes divers errors touching the generation, corruption and alteration of things in their matter and form. After, breathing a while, he enters a discourse of the Air, showing how it is divided, what the temperature of each region is, with the causes of the same: and how the mists, the blasts, the clouds, the dew, the ye and other watery meteors are engendered: and consequently entreateth of the falling stars, and comets, with the rest of the fiery impressions which are often seen in the two extreme regions of the air. Hereunto he adjoineth a philosophical narration of the thunder and lightning, touching in brief their strange yet certain effects; not omitting, for the more absolute complement of his discourse, to assign probable reasons of the rainbow, the circles about the Sun and Moon, and the many Suns and Moons, which affright the ignorant with their appearance. But albeit he shows himself a Philosopher in producing these natural reasons, yet he would have every man to show himself a Christian, in not wholly resting satisfied with these second causes; but ever so to acknowledge the wisdom of the Almighty, that he rather admire the creator, then adore the creature: adding thereunto the religious use, which Christians should make of these impressions and prodigious signs. And that he may clip the wings of man's pride, which is wont to soar beyond itself in self-conceits, he demonstrates how it is impossible for the most cunning naturalist, to render sound reasons of all accidents. Then leaving the air, he overthrows their opinion which hold but three elements, and shows the difference between that elementary and our compounded fire; adjoining thereunto a brief treatise of the matter, the motion and number of the celestial spheres. And answering those which are of opinion, that there are no waters above the firmament, he assumes a fit occasion to mention the general flood; with an elegant description whereof he ends this second days work. All which excellent points he adorns with such pleasant illustrations, that Omne tulit punctum, qui miscuit utile dulci. The second day of the first Week of the Lord Bartas. THose Learned wits, whose soothing rhymes do change The v●nity of lascivious Poets. Fowl into fair, and lewd with chaste do range, And of a bastard, dwarf, blind, ●●irting boy Do make a god, nay all the gods to sway: They lose both seed and travel of their hand, In ploughing of th'ungrateful fruitless sand. And setting nets for to entrap the wind Of some vain praise, which doth their wisdom blind, They imitate the Spider's curious pain, Which weaves a needless web withouten gain. But though more dear than time we nought possess, Yet would I grieve their loss of that the less, If by their guileful verse their too much Art Made not their hearers share with them a part. The sugared bait of those their learned writs, Doth shroud that poison, which the younger wits Quaff down with breathless draughts, and loves hot wine, Making them host at drunken Bacchus' sign, Distempers so their stomachs, that they feed On such ill meats as no good humours breed. Their charming numbers with a mighty glance, Cast headlong down fresh readers to mischance. Which by a vain desire soon make them ●lide, From this lives mountain, where they might abide. The songs to which their Muse sweet notes doth frame, Are bellows of lewd lust, which do inflame That wanton heat, which yet young tender age, In modest ashes keeps in vassalage. The chaste in●ention of the L. Ba●tas. Now all such as I am, I have devoted That art and wit which heaven hath me allotted, To th' honour of great jove, such verse to frame, As virgins reading need not blush for shame. Inuocatio. Thou Learning's spring, soul of this worldly round, Sith thou wilt have my low-tuned verse to sound Of thy great praise, grant that my keaking quill, Celestial Nectar ever may distill: And fill this volume with her horns store, Which cherished once a god then late y bore. That in some rate it may be correspondent, To the greatness of so grave an argument. Rid clean the path, which now I am to tread, From bushy brakes which do it overspread. Throughout my course so lend me still thy light, That to my Inn I may arrive ere night. The chaos created of nothing That endless end▪ broad length and height profound, Which yet no world, yet was a worldly round: That massy lump which nourished civil hatred, Was instantly of very nought created: And was that fertile soil from which should grow Earth, water, air, the fire, and heaven also. Th● composition of ●he fo●●e ●lement● i● mixed bodies. Now these four brethren two-twind generation, Thus made, not only keep their several station, But are the simples too, to make the mixed Of every thing, whereon our sense is fixed. Whether their only qualities remain, And in each part of each mixed body reign: Or their essential forms be all combined, These four as one sole body are defined. Simile. As in a crystal glass we see the blood Of grapes, allayed with Achelou● flood. Or as the meat and drink▪ which we have singled Out for our nurture, in us is mingled, And by our inward heat yields moisture, good To be converted into purest blood. This in a burning brand we see full plain, Example. His firetowers up, his heavenly home t'attain, His air to smoke, hi● earth to ashes goeth, Out of his knobs the boiling water floweth. Like war our bodies quiet peace maintaineth: For fire and air in vital spirits remaineth, The flesh is earth, the humours water be. Yea in each particle we plainly see Each of these mingled, though some one's minority, Among his brethren bears not like authority. So in the blood, those muddy lees which crave (As being earthy) lowest place to have, Are melancholy; in the middle swims The purest blood like air; about the brims Lies watery phlegm; and on the top there bubbles That fiery choler which so many troubles. Yet in the body no one element One element ●lw●●es predominant in ●ixt bodies. Doth daily play the king, but is content To take his turn, and so his subiect● awes, As if they take new Lord, he makes new laws. As each good townseman blood or wealth nought heeding, Simile. Is ruled, which erst in ruling made proceeding In a free city, which doth lose his fashion, Soon as the rulers suffer alteration. For the light vulgar tossed with every wind, Are to their prince's humours still inclined chameleon-like, which change of colours weareth, As oft as change of object him anneareth. Example. So th' element of which wine most partaketh, Now moist, now dry, now hot, now cold it maketh. And as these four are coupled more or less, So do th' effects and taste the same express: So that in time the juice of grapes unripe, Becomes new wine to fill the empty pipe; And that same new grows good as it grows old▪ Which kept too long, for vinegar is sold. Any element excessively predominant, i● dangerous to t●e body. Now whiles the Prince which keeps the rest in awe, Doth subjugate his greatness to the law; He rules in safety and doth still increase, His commons joy for their so happy peace. But if of subjects blood which he doth spill By dint of sword, he never take his fill, At length his rage dispeopling so his land, Must leave his realm to savage beasts command▪ Right so as long as some one element, Doth rule the rest with modest government; And a proportion in the humours found, Though some do more than other some abound, The body's in fair plight, as those fair lines, Drawn on the surface, are thereof good signs. Caligula. But if that cruel king it represent, Who wished that all of his great regiment, Had one sole neck, that at one chop he might Butcher all Rome in furious despite: Then doth it breed corruption of the rest, And th' house whereof the tyrant is possessed, Doth by degrees decay; so that the eye The bodies total change may soon descry. Excess o● moisture c●●set● the dropsy. So whensoe'er the liver is oppressed With moisture, which it cannot well digest, Which runs along the flesh, it makes it swell, And stops the conduit pipes which should expel Moist excrements, and bolteth fast the door, Which to the panting breath should evermore Yield back; and in the water doth torment The dropsie-sicke with thirsty languishment. Nor doth it leave the patiented any rest, Until the grave be of his corpse possessed. Excess of dryness causeth the Hectic ●●●er. So, too much drought a lingering fever breeds, Which with some pain on th' Hectic daily feeds; Feebles the sinews, clads the heart with grief, The face with sadness, plays the very thief, In stealing from the limbs their moist relief, Like as the flaming torch, which is the chief Cause of his piecemeal burning clean away, Feeds by his life, lives by his own decay. Nor doth it l●nd the patiented any rest, Until the grave be of his corpse possessed. So too much heat doth breed the fever lourdane, Excess of h●at● the cause of th● quartane ague. The tongue surcharging with a slimy burden, And makes the drudging pulse to troth apace, And in the brain more diverse shapes doth trace With a fantastic pencil, then can art, Or chance, or Nature to the eye impart. Nor doth it lend the burning patiented rest, Until the grave be of his corpse possessed. So too much cold upon the aged pate Excess of cold causeth old age. Doth clap a hoary fleece, and doth abate The flesh, and furrows up the late-smooth forehead, Hollows the eyes, and makes a man abhorred Unto himself, and gliding through each part, Doth by his winters frieze the very heart. Nor doth it lend the aged any rest, Until the grave be of his corpse possessed. Yet think not that this great excess doth bring Nibil in ●ibilum riducitur. Annihilation unto any thing: It only doth diversify the fashion, So as the matter by this commutation, Do it within, or else without remain, Nor can be said to lose, nor yet to gain. What ere is made, is of that matter framed, Which in the ancient nought the * M●t●ri●●rima. First was named. And whatsoever is resolved again, Unto that former matter runs amain. For since that God of nothing made this All, ●x ni●il●●i●il fit. Of nought is nothing made, nor ever shall Aught unto nought be brought: but all that's borne, Or dies again doth only change his form. His body sometimes shrinks, sometimes is lengthened, Sometimes is thickened, sometimes straightened, 〈◊〉. And if (in sooth) of nothing body were, The earth untilled should fruit abundant bear; Desired children, virgins should enjoy; And each thing grow each where without annoy; The thirsty heart should in the Ocean lie; The monstrous whale should dwell upon the dry; The fleecy sheep should graze amid the air; The service tree, and eke the pine-tree fair, Should take their rooting in the raging flood; Out of the oak the chestnut tree should bud; And from the chestnut tree should acorns fall; And natures laws being violated all, The eagle with the silly dove should match, And each of these the others brood should hatch. Nothing can enlarge itself by itself. And if that bodies of themselves could grow, Then man which in his growing is so slow, Should instantly be of that very stature, Which in full age is given him by nature. Vnplanted trees with levy branches dight, Should rob the shaded groves of Phoebus' light. The suckling elephant his back should yield, Unto the warlike castle for the field. The youngling Colt courageously should neigh, Bucephal-like in war to break the ray. Contrariwise, if aught annihild be, Than whatsoe'er we touch, or taste, or see, Still losing something of his quantity, At length should come unto a nullity. If death could something to a nothing bring, Then should that change be utter perishing. Exemplific●ti● Sometimes the mountains prouder tops do fall, But then the dales are filled therewithal. And when as Rhone, or Thesis' swelling pride, Doth overflow the field through which they glide, No more on either side is drowned and lost, Then is recovered on the other coast. The lovely heaven doth shower down many a flood, That his beloved spouse the earth may bud; Which she repays squirting them up amain, Through hidden pores of herbs and trees again. He that this only observation makes, Simil. How wax a hundred diverse fashion takes, Yet still the same; to him the daily change Of this inferior world cannot be strange. The world's First ma●ter is this wax unformed▪ Which with a thousand forms is all adorned; The form is the seal, and heavens great King, Is this high Chancellor, who with his ring, His great or lesser seals doth print upon her, Which sometime bring her shame, and sometimes honour. With us is nothing firm and constant; here Both life and death in turn do domineer. One body springs not till another fade, Only the matter is immortal made. God's writing table, body of this All, Receiver of what accidents befall; All like itself, all in itself compacted, It neither is enlarged nor contracted. Whose essence is vuchanged, but her shape No fewer outward fashions doth escape, Then Proteus, or the fish called Manie-feetes, Which for to pray amid the watery deep, Himself discolours, and in imitation Fitly resembles our French-neighbour nation, Materie prima Gall● similis. Which like an ape doth evermore delight, To be in stranger fashions alway dight: Whose shirt no oftener suffers any change, Then his apparel doth a fashion strange. This Matter is a Lais, whose delight Would change a hundred lovers in a night▪ Who scarcely of some younker's arm unlaced, Hath in her cogitation strait embraced Another's culling, and her novel sport, Doth cause her wish for plenty of that sort. For this same matter pricked with strong desire Of change: and yet unable to attire Herself with every shape, doth by succession Receive in every part a new impression. The cause of the transmutation of the elements. The chiefest cause of these evanishments, Is deadly feud of our four elements; Which in their turn do prey one on the other, As snow and water being maid and mother, Do make a mutual change: each of these four, In two chief qualities doth show his power; Whereof the one doth still the sceptre sway, To whom the other doth his homage pay. Those elements whose forces disagree, And wholly savour of antipathy, Maintain a longer fight in open field, Or either of them to the other yield. The fire to water turns not speedily, Nor doth the air raven so greedily Upon the earth: for being deadly foes, They fight both with their fingers and their toes. But air to water, earth to fire likewise Doth sooner turn; for that they symbolise Some quality: and easier 'tis to quell One enemy▪ then two that do rebel. Sith then this world's children none can see, Until these elements conjoined be In holy wedlock: and that nothing dies, Till by divorce these four are enemies; Which by unconstant changing of their place, Produce those various forms, wherewith the face Of this great All is so embellished: Simil. (Just as a song is sweetly relished With some few notes in sundry line and space▪ Which by their charming, sweet, harmonious grace, Do make the hearer's ears the broad high way, By which they may their souls from them convey. Or as the letters of the Alphabet, Simil. By being in a diverse order set, Do make these words; and then these words again, Which here do flow from my poëtike brain, Changing their rank, every these sacred lines, With choice of new discourse a thousand times.) It wants not reason: why Gods careful hand, Sharing among them, all their common land, Gave ea●h a place fit for his quantity, Which also might preserve his quality. He than that sees a drossy wedge of gold, Example▪ Mai●terd by V●l●an, how it doth unfold His wished riches, and how lingeringly The gold unto the gold doth strive to sli●; The silver seeks the silver, and the brass Between them both doth run, and how that mass Composed of pieces neither like his fellow, Doth branch itself in streams, black, white, and yellow: He doth conceive that soon as God assigned A place, to which each one should be confined▪ The earth, the fire, the water, and the air, Unto their like do speedily repair. So than this Chaos muddy lees do sink The situation of t●e ●arth & the fi●e. Right downward by their natural instinct. The fire doth try a new conclusion, Runs through the chinks of this Confusion, And sparkleth upward by his nimble pace, And of this lower world gets highest place. As one may see when as the dawn doth paint Simil. The Zenith of Catay with colours acquaint, Dead pools to reak, and from the poarie ground, Exhaled vapours in the air abound. Th● situation of t●e water and the air. But least the fire which doth the rest enclose, Should burn the earth by his too near repose, As arbiters between such deadly foes, Did God the water and the air dispose. One of which two could never end their fight, The water parentlike would take delight To help the earth: the air would desire T'uphold the quarrel of his cousin fire. But both of them their sundered love uniting, Might quickly end their quarrel and their fight: Which questionless if't had not been perfou●ned, This newmade world to his first state had turned. The air is placed above, the water under, No chance, but God so placing them asunder, Who that each thing in other may take pleasure, Hath made his works in number, weight, and measure. For if near Vulcan, Neptune had his place, Th●t choleric element would strait embrace Suspect of outrage, and his place forsake, That of his wrong some judgement he might take. Now than the links of this most holy chain, Which doth the members of this All contain, Are such as he alone can them untie, Who linked them together cunningly. The water armed with moisture and with cold, Doth in one arm the cold-drie earth enfold, And in the other doth the air embrace; The air as hot and moist doth high apace To join himself by heat unto the fire, And by his moisture water doth desire. Simil. As when the shepherdess chance to meet, Trampling the flowers with their tripping feet, Marrying their pitches to the oaten sounds, And sportfully do dance their rustic rounds Under the branches of some shady tree, By joining hand in hand so coupled be, As that the first clinching her fellow fast▪ Is joined by her fellows to the last. For sith the earth alonely doth not nourish Why th●●●rt● is th● c●●ter of th● world▪ Those creatures which in the same do flourish▪ But, which is more, doth with her dugs supply Food to the winged people of the sky, And gluts the scaly troop with longed food, Wh●ch cleave the billows of the briny flood, So that what ere doth creep, run, swim or fly, Is by this Mother nursed carefully: It did behove that she should counter-waigh Herself, that so she might the firmer stay Against the barking of the stonnie main, And might the anger-swollen cheeks disdain Of Auster, who in parching heat delighteth, And Boreas, who with freezing cold still fighteth. It did behove, her body dull and flow, Should farthest be from heaven here below, That she might near be wheeled about, by force Of heavens swift and never-resting course: Which doth with strong and stubborn ravishment, Pull round about the highest element. And sith again that the harmonious course Of heavenly planets, is th'immortal source Of life in earthly things, and that their changing Is caused by the stars their circled ranging: Th'almighty could no fit lodge provide, Whereas our grandam earth might well abide, Then in the centre of this worldly round. For vital beams wherewith the stars abound, Do shatter down their powerful influence Upon the air his waving residence, On th' arched fire, and on the swelling main Where scaly people wanting lungs remain. But they in fine unite their forces all, Within the circle of this earthy ball, Simil. Which is the world's nave: like as we may See in a wheel which chalketh out his way Amid the mud; whose widest spokes do meet Within the button by their joined feet. Simil. And as the Sun doth pierce the window glass, So do these starry influences pass, Through every part without impediment Of the transparent fiery element, The regions of the air, and water bright, But not the earth, wherein is firmly pight The world's foundation; so that we name, (And justly too) the water, air and flame, The concubines of ever-moving heaven, For that his Sun, and Moon, and Starry-seven, Never enjoy their love, but when by chance By these three regions along they glance: When heaven husband-like hath no intent To be divorced from the driest element: And with such seed as still doth animate Each living thing, he doth engravidate The fruitful earth his lawful wedded bride; And with a body so diversifide In disposition and in outward form, He doth the structure of this All adorn. Why the wa●er is placed between the earth and the air. The water lighter than the earthy lump, And heavier than the air, doth pitch his jump Between them both; that being moist and cold, By those two qualities he may be bold, To slack the thirsty dryness of our Mother, And cool the fervour of his airy brother. Apostrophe ad Musam suam. But whither away my Muse? thou wanton stay, Spend not thy Poetry at one essay: Surcease to day, to sing of sea and land, Their compass, power and praise▪ and where they stand. Do not too hastily prevent the time, Wherein the world was in his flowing prime: Le●ue mountain rocks with waters overspread, Till Phoebus rise again from's eastern bed: For when he shows again his blushing face, Then shall Gods powerful hand asunder place These mingled bodies; and shall richly dight The earth, with bushy trees of goodly height. It's time my love, my joy and only dear, To soar aloft, to lodge no longer here. Or never now 'tis time, to graft my wings On thy immortal virgin-pin●onings: That on thy back I being nimbly light, May safely unto heaven take my flight. Come, come then luckily, thy shoulder lend, That mounted on the same I hence may wend To gain that crown, to win that wreathed bay, Which never Poets, that in France did sway, Did wear; and which the heavens niggardize Hath long concealed from my longing eyes. The air (which foggy mists doth entertain, The air hov● and why it is d●uided into three r●g●o●s. The play-game of the tempests and the rain; Th'inconstant house where winged clouds abide, Swift Aeol●s his kingdom and his pride. The shop where winds are sold, whose traffic maketh, That every moving thing of life partaketh) Is not all one, for men by learning guided, Into three lofts have't rightfully divided. Whereof the highest (for that the restless course Regi● suprema. Of the first Mover pulls it round by force, From Ea●t to West, and likewise from the West Unto the place where fair Aurora's dressed: And for it bounds upon the burning ●●ame) The learned do this fit the hottest name. That fit wherein we breath, by turn doth hold Regio infima. Now melting heat, now all-congealing cold: Now neither, so his waters in the Spring Are coldly hot; in Autumn wavering, In winter cold, and hot in summers reign, For then the earth rebat●th back again Those beams, which starry bowmen shoot apace; Especially the Sun (the heavens chief grace) Who for his shafts doth evermore delight, To make the circled earth his but tanned white. Medi●●●●io. The middle-loft, for that it still remaineth far from the burning ●eeling, which containeth This lower world in his fiery seat, Unable also to partake the heat, Which from the earth is banded bolt-upright, Doth in continual freezing take delight. For how could water hardened be to hail, Even when the summer heat doth so prevail, That harvest fields look white, if yeie cold His shivering climates did not all enfold? Why the middle region is th● coldest. assoon as Phoebus hath his court removed From the * T●● sig●● Gemini. two twins, so mutually beloved, And takes his lodging with his * Cancer. Crabbed host, Or panting Lion; then this middle coast His cold redoubleth: for environed With heat of armies newly mustered, Which more then ere are now encouraged To have his coldest times unwintered: Delays the time to train his men no longer, His forces joined together are the stronger. S●mil. As Christians leaving far their native land, Fear not the fury of the Turkish band, Marching disorderly; make now and then, As many squadrons, as there be of men; So that sometime the clowns with bills and bows, Drive them before them with their stubborn blows: But when they see the Mooned flags appear, (Arms of old Ottoman) and when they hear The horrid thunder of cannon's sound, Which by their shock do level with the ground, The strongest walls that ever yet immured Rhodes and Belgrada, while their prime endured, Strait they retire, and in some neighbour plain, Do set themselves in order all again; Their warlike courage doth increase their strength, Their blood doth boil for heat, and at the length The bordering circumcised people's aid Doubling their forces, makes their foes afraid. This antiperistasis (for 'tis no danger T●e effects of the Antiperistasis of the ●i●●le region. To naturalise a word that is a stranger▪ Yea in this work, where we have no one word, That doth so strong an emphasis afford) Doth cause that in the heat of winter's cold, We feel the chimney hotter manifold Then in the summer: and that Scythia, Saluted often by Orithia Her blustering lover, evermore doth breed Children, whose stomachs craving still to feed, Continually digest more store of meat, Both in the winter, and in summers heat, Then those lean scranlings whom the Delphian torch▪ Upon the Lybian sand doth alway scorch. This makes that we, which have the happy luck Sweet air into our spongy lungs to suck, More lively heat within our stomachs hide, When freezing janivere doth here abide: Then when the Sun is banished for a while From Chus, and to our tropic doth recoil, God's mighty hand did thus the air divide, That in the middle lo●t there might reside The mists, the comets and the windy train, The tempests and the dew, the y●e and rain. Some of the which appointed are to make The earth to yield her fruit, the rest to take Weapons against our sins: that so they might Engrave in hardest hearts each day and night, The awful love, the sweet-alluring fear Of him, which of this All the crown doth wear. Simil. As in a cupping-glass a little flame, To shun a vacuum (which is nature's shame) Or 〈◊〉 itself from cupped parts doth bring Th●abounding humour, which lies pestering The flesh; which being thin and too subtle, Doth by the ruddy eyes distill each while: Right so the Sun, whose yellow golden hair Doth daily gild this and that hemisphere, Two sorts of vapours evermore exhales From waving fields, and from the flowery dales. E●●●atio. The one is thin, pure, nimble, burning, dry, Vapour. T●e other hot, moist, rising heavily, Which run amid the air throughout the year, And make the world unlike itself appear. O●●he blasts, o● n●l d●w. If then a vapour do so thinly rise, As that it cannot be in any wise To water turned; and his heavy wing Glued with cold, lie only hovering Upon the earth his gaudy flowered weed, A blackness in the air it strait doth breed, And therewithal a sluggish mi●tie blast, Upon the herbs and flowers hangeth fast. O● the d●w a●● the ye●. If so this vapour lingeringly do fly Scarce to the middle region of the sky, Yet higher than the clouds, it's in a trice, In April dew, in januarie y●e. 〈◊〉 the rain. But if this vapour actively do get, Unto the shivering winter's cabinet; The water which hath got the highest place, Is turned in a very little space By cold into a ●loud, and through the sky, Upon the winged winds doth swiftly fly: Until his waters dropping down amain, Do find their grandam rivers once again. Whether one cloud be driven by the wind, Conjectural reason●of the rain. Against another in a furious kind; And with a stubborn shock are forced again, To shed their water in a shower of rain: As oftentimes, a wanton lad doth dash Simil. The brittle vessels, serving for to wash, Between his waggish hands, and so doth spill The water which the vessels erst did fill: Or whether it be, a gentler gale do play Amid the air, and sighing in his way, Wrings out their tears: as after a great rain, Another shower stilleth down again From tops of forests trees; when as the wind Among their bushy boughs doth pleasure find, And sports to crispe their waving levy tresses: Or whether it be a higher cloud that presses The under cloud with a moist heavy weight; And that the humour se●kes an issue strait, priest by another water: as is s●ene, The more that * Grapes. Bacchus presents piled been Upon the hurdle in the vintage time, The faster doth the new, sweet, fuming wine Stream from the bottom pierced all below, And to the frothy tub amain doth flow. Then many heavenly streams our floods augment, Save tears is nothing scene: the firmament Darkened with clouds, in drops doth seem to still, And stinking frogs the earthy plains to fill: How frogs may b●●nge●dred v●●●h t●● rain Whether the vapour that doth upward ●lie, Be of itself both cold, hot, moist and dry; Whose mixture quickeneth every living thing: Or whether it be, the Eastern blustering Sweeping the earth, do heap into the sky Some fertile dust, whereof confusedly These ugly things are made; as near the brim, Where some new mountain flood doth swiftly swim, The frothy mud is turned in a strange kind Into a frog, which yet vnshhaped behind Within the dirt enjoys some small pastime, Half dead, and half alive, half flesh, half slime. Of the snow. Sometimes it happeneth, that the freezing cold Congeals the total cloud; then we behold Great locks of heavenly wool to tumble down, The trees unleaved, no grass upon the ground, The world hath all one die; above the snow The stag his horned head can hardly show. Of the ●aile. Sometimes it chanceth otherwise again, Soon as the cloud is turned into rain, Th'excessive cold that's in the middle fit, To haily bullets hardeneth it full oft; Which falling down (alas they so should fall) Our hoped vintage greedily forestall; Without a sickle reap our unripe grain, Vnblossome all our trees, and do constrain The birds to leave the nests they lately made, Do rob the woods and groves of wont shade, Do bruise our bullocks grazing as they go, Do make our very houses crack for woe, Of t●e winds how they are caused. If so the stars which Gods creating hand Sowed scatteringly upon the heavenly land, Draw fumes from off the earth both hot and dry, Their active fire would lodge them instantly In Phoebus' lap: but t●ey no sooner gain The fit, where freezing cold doth still remain, And feel the strength of their audacious foes, But strait they strive to gain a sweet repose Upon the earth from whence they did ascend, Assisted by the weight she did them lend. But from the fields there fumes another fire, Which comes to aid them in their back re●ire Which stops their downward course, restores their hearts, And weapons to their trembling hands imparts. With these fresh soldiers they fiercely fight, Now tumbling down, now towering bolt upright, Driving now here, now there our air along, According as the matter's weak, or strong. This holds but for a while, for in this fray The heat and cold both bearing equal sway, To end this stir, one lets their upward flight, The other stops their fall with all his might: So that this vapour taking little rest, To move in circled wise doth hold it best, And buzzing flies from pole to pole, from Spain To Eastern India, and back again. These puffing winds although they quickened be The f●ur● thi●● winds resembled t● th● four seasons of the year, the foore hum●●s of a man● body, the four elements, and t●e foore ages. By spirit and vapour of like quality: Yet doth the diverse place where they are borne, With diverse names and power them all adorn▪ Whiles I observe the four winds principal, Which quarter out the cantons of this All, In their effects as humming on they fly, I find that they resemble properly Four times of th'year, four humours that abound, Four simples, whereof nature doth compound Each mingled body, and the fourfold age, Which man runs over in his pilgrimage. The wind which doth with fair Aurora dwell, The Eastwind. Resembles in his nature passing well●, The naked summer and the tender age, The fire and choler (apt to kindle rage.) The wind which barbarous Africa doth greet, The Sout●. Is like the joyful Spring▪ the air most sweet: That age wherein man doth in strength excel, The blood wherein the soul of man doth dwell. The wind which doth with drops bedew the West, The W●st. The water and the phlegm resembles best, The age wherein man's strength falls to decay, The time when hoary winter beareth sway. The North. The wind which from the shivering North doth fly▪ May be compared and not injuriously, To Autumn, earth, and melancholy sad, And to the age when man becomes a lad. Not ●●at until this time we have not learned More winds than East, West, North and South are termed. The man that lives upon the watery plain, Hath on his compass noted thirty twain. Though, as the places number do exceed, From whence these exhalations do proceed; So are the winds in number numberless, Which cleanse the air of misty fogginess. Yet from what place so ere they sally forth, They mustered are by South, East, West or North. The effects of the winds. Sometimes they with a whizzing broom do sweep The air, where dusky clouds their court do keep, Sometimes they dry the fields which drowned been, With tears of Phaeton his weeping kin. Sometimes they temper with a welcome cold The air, which while the fainting dog-days hold, Do fry for heat. They ripe the ruddy pear, The bean in husk, the corn within the ear. They make the winged ship to fly with ease, Throughout the world upon the raging seas. And with a lingering hast whirling around The millstone, under which the grain is ground, To undivided atomies they bring The seed, which from the earth they made to spring. diverse effects of th● hot exhalations. Now if the fume be hot and glutinous, And yet unable to be mutinous Against the icicles, ●hat rule and reign Amid the air; then doth it still remain, hovering between us and the middle sky, Until it kindled be, and downward fly: Just like a squib (that serves for sportful games) Or like an arrow feathered all with flames. But when again the exhalation Of the comets. Surmounts cold winter's habitation, It lights itself and makes a blazing star, Foredooming some mischance that is not far. But then his flame having more nurture Than th'other vapour, longer doth endure; Whether the fume ytossed withouten stay, Become a brand by heavens circled sway, Kindling itself like coals that overspread With straw, do for a while lie seeming dead, Which afterward the artisan doth shake, Of darksome night a lightsome day to make: Or whether from the highest element, It do receive his fiery nutriment, Like as the torch of flaming life deprived, Is by the burning link again revived. According as the vapour's thick or rare, Of the other fiery impressions in the air. Long, equal, large, unequal, round, or square, It makes those various shapes in th'air appear, Whose sight doth make the sottish quake for fear. Here doth a steeple seem to flame by night, There doth a cruel dragon come in sight. Here is the torch, and there the arrow flies, The forked beam and spear here greet our eyes, And there the dart, which crossing in their ways, Clashing together sparkle out their rays. The wanton goat with fiery tassels dight, By often skips doth simple men affright, The bloody tresses of a twinkling star, Do threaten on the other side from far, To plague the neat-h●ards with tempestuous hail, With storms to souse the mariners that sail, To punish shepherds with their flocks decay, And citizens with many a bloody fray. What rumbling noise in heaven do I hear? Of the thunder. The walls of this great All as doth appear, In every corner suffer batterment, It seems Proserpina hath some intent, To set at large her furious daughters three, And leave her queenedome of black Tartary, And in the air to hold her hellish reign. I know that some do study ●o maintain, That when the vapour doth ascend on high, Compact of air and water evenly, And burning vapours mounting up likewise Into the middle region of the skies, The hotter fume y compassed around With cold thick clouds which in the air abound, Doubles his heat, and taking heart of grace, Makes war on his cold neighbour foes apace. Simil. The lion banished from the forest wide His native home, and forced to abide In some strait den, where maids and idle boys Do hisfe, and mock, and anger him with toys, Doth fill his narrow park with dreadful sound, Runs forth and back in such his straightened pound, And being mad, doth not so much desire His liberty, as to revenge his ire: Right so this fire craving for to rend His floating prison, cannot be content; But ●till bestirs him running round about, Wi●h grumbling, rumbling, and a thundering rout, Until he make a renting breach below, And thundering cannon-shot on us do throw. For longing in these sharp and cruel wars, To join his weak enfeebled soldiers Unto his brother forces, and obtain In Cynthia's lap that he may still remain; He snarlingly endeavours forth to get, But with so huge an host he is beset, And so entrenched every where about, That though he strive on this side to get out, And now on that side skirmish with the cold, Yet finds he many a soldier that is bold, Courageously to stand against his strength, And so despairing, furiously at length Forgets his honour, and doth back retire, With shame enough as wanting his desire. The ocean boils for fear, and Neptune's band, Effects of the thunder. Finding the sea too strait, do high to land. The earth doth quake, the shepherd all alone, Is hardly safe under the rocky stone. The sky is rift in twain, and Pluto's self Looks pale and bleak like some night-wandering elf. The air doth flame throughout with fiery flashes, For then the lightning which so fiercely dashes Against the cloud, the which it doth surprise, Doth sparkle forth those flames which dim our eyes. Right like the man on whom the Muses fawn, Simil. Doth with his steel before the morning dawn, Compel the sparks to issue from the flint Until they kindle his half burned lint. And which is more, the lightning being framed Stran●e effe●●● of the lightning. Of fumes which of themselves are still inflamed, Can break the bones with his admired art, Yet keep the flesh from feeling any smart: Can melt the coin wherewith the niggard's blessed▪ Yet with his burning force not hurt the chest: Can break the foining blade short off in twain, Yet miss the scabbard that doth it contain: Can kill the babe, ere it be brought to light, Yet to the mother offer no despite, Who with the strange event astonished, Doth see her child no sooner borne then dead. Can burn the shoe, and not offend the foot, Nor pierce the tun, yet draw the liquor out. I have beheld with these (then younger) eyes, This thundering flame a woman to surprise, ●xa●ple. And from those parts to whiff away the hairs, Which here to name my modest Muse forbears. O● the circles abou● t●e Sun and Moon. Shall I conceal those various shapes, which be Painted in heavens face? Sometimes I see A fiery circle framed of many a ray, Which Sun and Moon, and other stars display; Which on some cloud whiles they are darted down, Of substance thick, and by his figure round, Through which they cannot pass with all their strength, Fly round about the edges at the length, And do a crown resemble very right. Like as the torch, which when it burneth bright Within some angle of a darksome cell, Whose gate is bolted, cannot very well Send through the door the lustre of his rays, But by the chinks his flaming light displays. Of the rainbow. But when the Sun gins himself to shroud In Thetis bed, and on some adverse cloud, Unable any longer to contain His watery humour, shoots his beams amain; Then doth he shadow his resplendent face Upon that cloud▪ and variously doth trace The bending of that particoloured bow, Whose sight doth glad our faces here below. For th' adverse cloud, which doth the arrows take Of this great archer, instantly doth make That on the neighbour cloud they back rebound, And doth with Titan's golden beams compound His various colours: altogether like The Sun, which while his darts some viol strike Upon thy window▪ thou dost strait espy The trembling brightness banded upwardly, Against the s●eling of thy glittering hall. Of the diverse S●ns & Moons which are sometimes seen. But if contrariwise the cloud do fall, Not over against, nor under, but beside The Sun or Moon▪ (the heavens nightly pride) Both one and th' other on th●t cloud do trace, With powerful skill their two or threefold face, The silly vulgar are astonished, To see at once three coachmen furnished, To draw the Sun, the father of the day; And that the night for anger doth assay, To have more Moons in heaven to r●maine, And there as crowned Queens to rule and reign. But why (o foolish men) go ye about, An Apostrophe to those that wholly ground themselves upon reaso●. To search the wonders of th' Almighty out With your so shallow sense? what proud desire, Nay madness rather, makes you so aspire Without his help to open all his works? I know that in a learned man there lurks That skill, whereby he can some reason show, Of whatsoever moveth here below: But not so sound, that he may leave a man Without all scruple; and if so he can, Yet of these instruments when we do boast, We should commend those cunning fingers most, Which set them all on work, and by such ways Things more than dead to life again do raise. When thunder roars, that voice me seemeth rings, T●e religious use that we should make of th●se meteors and impressions. Which makes kings shepherds, and of shepherds kings. The towre-bruising shock oflightning, telleth What wondrous power in God's right hand there dwelleth. When as I see the flashes in the air, I see beams of God's eyes divinely fair. When timely rain doth fall, I then espy▪ How he showers down his blessings plenteously. When as the bridges in the fields are drowned, And streams do overwhelm our tilled ground; methinks that God doth weepingly lament Those sins, whereof we never do repent. And never doth the bow in heaven appear, But it's a seal and pledge to me most dear, That never more the universal flood, Sh●ll proudly overwave that forest wood, Which Atlas seemeth in the clouds to hide, Or doth on snowy Caucasus abide. But chief I am moved, when heavens ire, Salutes our eyes with prodigies of fire: When this great All is all disordered, And his old customs strangely altered. The most learned unable to assign true reasons of all accidents. Suppose there do in some one scholar flourish As many wits, as Pallas deigns to nourish: And let thilk man out of his subtle brain, Show me a certain reason of the rain, Of milk, and flesh, and wool, which whilom fell From heaven; and let his deeper skill me tell, How in the clouds that store of grain might grow, Which hath been seen at twice to overflow That part of Germany where it did fall, Which vulgarly Carinthia men do call. The heavens great King doth now and then delight, To cross each where the course of nature's might: Minding that such irregularities, Should heralds be of future miseries. That fiery shower which once was seen to reign On the * Plutarch in the l●fe of Crafs●●. Lucanian fields; (when Rome did train, And send their bravest soldiers to that field, Which unto fat Euphrates way doth yield) Foretold the Parthians never missing bow, Should all th' Italian armies overthrow. That rattling noise of arms, those trumpets sound, Which from abou● did simple men astound, (While as the * Plutarch in the life of Marius. Romans' most courageous crew, So many Danes and Almains fiercely slew) Tell us that chance in nature worketh nought, Against the errors Epicurus taught. Thou which dost see the lightnings threefold stroke Dash out * A certain Arrian Bishop, who for h●s horrible blasphemies, was s●ine by the lightning. Olympus brains, which did provoke Blasphemously the triple-unitie: Darest thou presume t'expect impunity From God, while thou dost bark against his Grace, And shamest not to spit upon his face, Whose justice never leaves unpunished Blasphemous mouths against him opened? Thou jew, no jew, but now a barbarous seed Of Turkish, ●Scythian, or Tartarian breed; What is thy thought, when as thou dost espy Thy * Iose●●us i● the wars of t●e I●●oes. temple threatened with a sword on high? But that th' Almighty with his powerful hand, Should power his vengeance down upon thy land. That dearth and famine should sweep them away, Which to the pestilence were not a pray: And that the sword should seize on them again, Which had escaped from the former twain: That execrable mothers in that stowre, Their miserable children should devour: That there the plough his rustiness should scour, Where flourished of late thy stately bower. And all for murdering in thy deadly strife, That King which came from heaven to give thee life. That stream of blood which once was seen to flow, Those craggy rocks from whence great jone did throw His fearful lightning on Liguria land, And all those bloody crosses seem to stand On mournful habits of appearing men, Did seem to cry with open mouth, that then In Genes the Turk with his enraged crew, Should pitch their standards, as it did ensue. O frantic France, how is't thou gainest nought, An apos●op●● to his o●vne country of France. By all those signs whereby thy God hath sought To call thee home? canst thou with tearlesse eyes Behold those fearful fiery prodigies, Wherewith the heavens do us all affright, That * He understands the comet seen in the year▪ 1577 blazing star which threatens every night, Our land with war, with pestilence and hunger, Three deadly points of that prepared thunder, Which when th' Almighty ginneth once to frown, On us rebellious men he poureth down? But what (alas) can heaven unarmed prevail, When as thy back threshed with so many a flail, Draws not one sigh from thy obdurate heart? Thou art delighted with thy painful smart, Thy hunger makes thee on thy flesh to feed, And makes thy blood thy drink; and thou indeed As dull as one that hath the lethargy, Shunnest the salve might cure thy malady, The more thou feelest the spur, the more thou tirest, And void of holy care, thou less desirest T'amend thy ways, but like an Ass dost strive To fat thyself with blows, with loss to thrive: And as the iron or the steeled blade, So thou by hammering art harder made. But better 'ttwere I see this talk to end, Then speaking to the deaf my time misspend: I see 'ttwere better tread my wont way, And in my verse God's greatest works display. Of the elementary fi●●. As then in court the king is hemmed in With princes of his royal blood and kin, And next to them with nobles of his train, And after them with magistrates again, Marching along in order and degree, As they are nearest to his Majesty: So God in order wisely did dispose, That Cynthia should that element enclose, Which did in his resplendent activeness The nature of the heavens best express; And after him, the others as they been Anneared unto the planets by their kin. And yet foole-many crediting their eyes Above their reason, many ways devise To pull this essence from his native place, And with his want this lower All deface. The fire giving brightness, heat and flame, Ignis encomium. Wellspring of motion, Alchemist of fame, A cleanser, quickener, smith and soldier, Bell-founder, surgeon, cook and cannoner, And goldsmith too, which doth and can do all, Embracing round the air and earthy ball. If so the fire (say they) encamped be Objection. Between the heaven and us, than should we see The same by night; for than our eyes do mark The shining glowworms in the greatest dark. Besides, how should we see the worlds eynes, Throughout so great an element to shine? Sith that with us the sharpest sighted eye Can nothing through a candle's flame espy, You unbelieving men, if so the puffs Solution. Of wanton Zephyrus, or angry snuffs Of rainy Auster, made you not believe They have a being▪ you would credence give, That from the earth unto the firmament, There were a vacuum and no element. And your opinion would aswell desire, To think no air, as to conceive no fire. Those torches wherewith we prolong the days The difference between the elementary and our mixed fire. (Which in the winter Capricorn assays To drown in Western seas, t'enlarge the night) Compared unto the Sun, the heavens great light, Are less, by many hundredth times, obscure, Then is our mixed and compound fire impure, Compared to that resplendent element, This lower Universe his chiefest ornament. Our fire is nothing but a lightsome shade Of darksome thick and pitchy grossness made: But that above, by being wholly pure From mixture of compounded nouriture. And being far removed from our sight, And unacquainted with the blustering might Of Aeolus, doth much resemblance bear Unto the nature of the heavenly sphere. Of the matter of the heaven's. But (heavenly God) what matter may I name, Of which thou didst the heavenly arches frame? Uncertain, I resemble every hour, The cock that stands upon some steepled tower, Which doth as oft new place and master find, As in the air we feel a change of wind. Sometimes I am of Aristotle's train, Sometimes I follow Plato's mind again; Tracking the footsteps of the Stagirite, I rob the firmament of mixture quite. I do aver that God's omnipotence Did fashion heaven of a quintessence: Sith that the elements directly fly, Some to the centre, others to the sky. But heavens course giving no inch of ground, Is ever turned in a circled round. Their motion dures not, but they so abide, As God the world's first day did them divide: But never-breathing heaven still doth run, That constant p●sting course it hath begun: It treads one path, moved with unburdened weight, And knows not what it is a team to bait. The earth and water, fire and air united, Are with an inbred warring hate delighted, Cau●ing in time their springing and their fall, Increase and decrease; suffering not at all, Beneath the horned planet any form, For one half hour one subject to adorn: But heaven never knows death's equal rigour, Growing in year's, it groweth not in vigour, Nor wears with use, but's flowering eld may bear Resemblance to his childhood every where. Tracing again the steps of Plato's skill, How a●d to what use the elements may be in the hea●e●s, according to Plato's opinion. The heavenly orbs with elements I fill. Th'earth makes them solid, that they never crave A fleeting disposition to have; The air transparent, fire makes them light, hot, nimble, active, and resplendent bright. And all the eadges which do counter-kisse Their fellow-wheeling globes, do never miss Of water, whose cold humour stops the course Of burning heat, arising from the source Of their swift motion, lest the heavenly land Should be converted to a flaming brand. Not that I equalize these elements, The differenc● between those elements whereof the heavens, and those whereof the Sublunary bodies are compounded. Of which I frame the heavenly tenements, To those dull bodies which are here below, Which men by sight and frequent handling know. They are all pure, a heavenly harmony Combines their substances eternally. Their air is free from tossing, and their fire From burning; and their earth doth not desire From his high mansion to tumble down, Nor doth their water fleet upon the ground. Lo, here th'extent of human surquedry Blinded with error and simplicity, Which dares (as though his cunning could calcine The matter of the heavenly orbs) define With an unbridled tongue, what wood and stone Th'almighty chose to carpenter his throne. I rather had still doubtful to remain, Then lead awry the simple of my train; Waiting for holy Paul his rediscent: Orfreed from the vicious pesterment Ofthis rebellious flesh, which doth depress My clogged soul with counter-heavinesse, These eyes may see the beauties of that place, Diuers●●●●nions touching the number of the spheres. If then I ought would see save God's bright face, But men as many curious questions move, About the number of the spheres above: One holds but one, through which he makes to glide The eyes, wherewith this All is beautified: Like as amid the sea, the scaly train Divide the surges of the watery plain. Another judging all things by his eye, Marking the seven planets in the sky To have a diverse course; and that beside The other stars (which fixed do abide, Guilding by night the heavenly firmament) Run but one way; his wise experiment By such his observation hath found, Eight ●undry lofts in the celestial round. Another ma●king in the starry sky, A threefold motion dancing actively, And that on● body hath but one sole race By natural instinct; doth forthwith place A ninth and tenth, not numbering in that count Th' imperial sphere, which doth the rest surmount; Where streams of nectar never cease to flow, Where soul-delighting pleasures ever grow, Where one may see a● all times flourishing The pleasing beauties of a happy spring; Where life doth never die through crooked eld, Where Gods high parliament is alway held His glorious essence being hemmed in With troops of many a flaming Seraphin, And souls of men which he hath purchased By having of that body murdered, Whose glorious resurrection and ascent, Hath placed the earth above the firmament. But here i'll stop my over-posting team. Not daring to discuss so deep a theme. C●eli encomion. O fair and tenfold round, which hat'st to stay, Life of this Universe, spring of the day, Mould of thyself, begetter of the year, Which never changest place, yet dost appear To fly so fast, that only in our mind, We can thy never-lingring motion find: Finite, yet infinite, from growing free, From discord, death and hateful misery, Which lovest sound and dancing harmony, still like thyself in all eternity, Transparent, light, law of this lower round; Which with thy limits every thing dost bound▪ And yet unbounded art, which dost enfold What ever thing this lower All doth hold, Throne of great jove: I willingly would sing The various orders of thy quavering▪ If time would give me leave, and that this Day Would not be overlong by that essay. Besides, I fear that some detracting tongue, Will blab abroad among each vulgar throng, That to each gale of wind for small avail, My tattling Muse doth spread her fartheled sail; And that a longer web she moughten weave, She quills each thread, not caring when to leave. But think who ere thou be, that reasonless I do not here so many works express Of the creation; sith I understand By that great firmament (which Gods right hand What is understood by the firmament. Gen. 1.6. Did hang this day between our watery plain, And that above the sky) the whirling train Of spheres and air, and th'hottest element, Which make a large dividing sunderment Between the waters of our azured deep, And those which God above the sky doth keep. Now in the learned books of high esteem, Against ●hose ●hich hold no waters above the firmament. My ignorance hath not so little seen, But we●l I know, that their so curious skill Presumes with subtle arguments to fill Their volumes, scoffing at the crystal sphere, And at the waters which are placed there, And at that ocean which doth all contain Which underneath his compass doth remain. Simil. But as a modest matrons beauteous face, (Who as contented with the bounteous grace Which nature frankly hath bestowed upon her, Strives not with painting to increase her honour Of her so fair art-wanting countenance) Deserves more praise, then doth th'immodest glance, The wanton gesture, and the mincing pace, The borrowed tresses and depainted grace, Wherewith a courtesan of filthy trade Maintains her beauty which gins to fade: So of the holy tongue I more account, Although the country phrase it not surmount, And that bare truth be her sole ornaments, Then of Athenian painted eloquence And guilded lines, wherewith men strive to shade The errors, which their vain conceits have made. I rather had my reason oft should lie, Then from the sacred truth once go awry, Gen. 1.6. Psal 104.3.148.4. Which in so many places loud doth cry, That God hath placed some waters o'er the sky. Be it that their estranged quality, With these below have small affinity: Or turned unto a cloudy element, Do compass round the starry firmament▪ Or be it (as some say) a crystal sphere, Embrace the golden firmament each where. And why shall I tossed with uncertainties, Conclude of these as doubtless verities? A●g. a pari. I see not why man's reasonable sense Should not believe, that his omnipotence, Who whilom made the sea like walls to stand For jacob's troop to pass as on dry land, Can not above the wheeling globes compose That watery sphere, the others to enclose. Thou seest that every hour the clouds contline, So many seas which threatening us with rain, Are only vnderpropt with feeble air, Tossed with each wind that thither doth repair, And yet so weak, that it can hardly bear The littlest burden any one can rear. Thou seest the sea which doth our mother bound, Spite of all accidents remaineth round; His waves not daring once their bounds to pass, To equalize their circled watery mass. Why then believest thou not this vaulted sphere Upon his back a total sea may bear▪ Yet that the water firmly may abide? O stony heart, persuade thyself beside, That God sustains those waters in that case; And think if nature's working take such place, Arg. a mi●●●i. That pearl and crystal glass are by her skill Composed of streams, which droppingly distill; What then at once can the Almighty do, Which did create both heaven and nature too? Persuade thy unbelieving mind again, That this proud palace where thou hold'st thy reign, though built with wondrous art, would soon decay, If on a watery ground it did not stay. For as the brain doth hold the highest seat Simil. Of man's small universe, t'allayalay the heat Which from the cordial parts doth ever flow, With his cool moisture; altogether so, That God might mix the water with the flame, And cool the ardour of the heavenly frame, He placed above the starry firmament, A vaulted sea of that moist element. Mentioning t●e waters abo●● the firmament, be assumes occasion to mention the flood, which be describes mo●● elegantly. These higher waters (as the stories go) joining themselves unto the floods below, And striving with their overswelling pride, The proudest mountain tops with waves to hide, Had drowned this All, if (dancing on the flood) Noah had not shut the world into a wood; Building an Ark, a huge and mighty frame, Keeping alive all creatures in the same. They were no sooner in, but strait the Lord With only power of his almighty word, Opened the door of that vast, horrid cave, Where Aeolus his crew their dwelling have; And bolted in the cloud-expelling North, And let the rainy southern issue forth; Which 'gins forthwith to wag his dropping wing, His beard hath no one hair but is a spring: A night of clouds envelops him around, His hanging locks in rain are showered down, And whiles t●e thickest clouds he fiercely dashes, They break out into showers and stormy flashes. The frothy torrent, and the river stowre, Do make each other swell in one self hour; Their mingled waters scorn their former banks, Run to the sea to play their furious pranks, Spoiling the hopeful harvest as they go, The earth doth quake ●nd sweat for very woe, Not leaving in her veins one watery drop. And thou, o heaven, thy scluses dost unstop, To plague thy sister earth, whose former race Was shameless, lawless and withouten grace; Who took her only and her chief delight, To offer to her maker much spite. The land is hid, now Neptune hath no shore, The rivers bend their course to him no more, They are a sea themselves, and all the number Of seas, which erst divided were asunder, Make but one ocean; yea this universe Is nothing but a watery wilderness, Which longs to join his liquid waving plain, Unto the floods which in the heavens remain. The sturgeon coasting by the castled bowers, Admires the drowning of so many towers. The mular and the manat side those rocks, Where lately fed the wantonizing flocks Of bearded goats: the Dolphin cuts the ●loud Where it surmounts the highest mountain wood. The horse, the tiger, hart, the hound, the hare, By their swift paces now unsuccoured are: They seek for ground (alas) but 'tis no booting, For still they see they lose their hoped footing. The beaver, torteise and the crocodile, Which did enjoy a twofold house ere while, Have nought but water now wherein to dwell: The tender lambkins and the Lions fell, The ravenous wolf, the nimble fallow dear, Swim side by side without suspicious fear; The swallow, yearly Herald of the spring, The vulture hatched for hateful ravening▪ fight, and striving longer to contend, Against their certain near approaching end, Not finding where to perch themselves again, Do fall at length into the angered main. As for poor men in that tempestuous stowre, Imagine one to get some lofty tower, Another to ascend some mountain hill, Another practising his climbing skill, With hands and fe●te clasping some cedar tree, Striving upon his upmost top to be; But still the flood rising as they ascend, If once they stay, their sinful life doth end. One hardily upon some plank doth venture, Another doth into some coffer enter, Another swimmeth in some kneading tub, Another half asleep perceives the flood T'assail his bed and life at once; another Keeps with his arms and legs a swimming pother. Whereby he may resist the waters wrath, Whose rage but even then devoured hath Hard by his side his sister and his brother, His friend, his child, his father and his mother: But wearied at the length doth y●●ld again, Unto the mercy of the cruel main. All stand at once at death his loathed door, But yet the cruel Parcaes, which of yore Were armed with many a murdering device, To rake to them the things of greatest price, No other hangmen at this instant have, Beside the frothy over-whelming wave. Mean while the Ark securely doth remain, Upon the surges of that watery plain; though all unrigd from any haven far, For God was both her pilot and her star. Thrice fifty days this monstrous flood did stay, Making of all this lower All a pray, Until this spoil had moved at length the Lord, Who had no sooner sounded with his word Unto those wasting floods a back retire, But instantly the billows do conspire, To run unto their former place and state; And strait the swelling rivers do abate: The sea bounds in itself▪ the hills appear, The forest trees which drowned were whilere, Do show their slimy boughs; the champion field Increaseth as the waters backward yield. And to be brief, God's thunder-shooting hand Did let the Sun behold again the land; That he again might see the smoke arise, Of a devout, sweetsmelling sacrifice, Fuming with sweet Panchayan franke-incense, Unto the praise of his omnipotence. He concludeth with a prayer for the Church. O God, sith thou art pleased in this our age, To save thy holy ship from stormy rage; Grant that those few, whose settled confidence Is anchored on thy sacred providence, May by thy blessing evermore increase In number, faith and love, the bond of peace. FINIS.