THE Plague of Athens, Which happened in the SECOND YEAR OF HE Peloponnesian Warr. First described in Greek by Thucydides; Then in Latin by Lucretius.  
Now attempted in English, By THO. SPRAT.  
LONDON, Printed by E. C. for Henry Brome at the Gun in Ivy-lane, 1667.   

Let this Book be Printed,  
Roger L'Estrange.  
March 28. 1665.   

To my Worthy and Learned Friend, Dr. Walter Pope, late Proctor of the University of Oxford.  
SIR,  
I Know not what pleasure you could take in bestowing your commands so unprofitably, unless it be that for which Nature sometimes cherishes and allows Monsters, The love of Variety. This only delight you will receive by turning over this rude and unpolisht Copy, and comparing it with my excellent Patterns, the Greek and Latin. By this you will see how much a noble Subject is changed and disfigured by an ill hand, and what reason Alexander had to forbid his Picture to be drawn but by some celebrated Pencil. In Greek Thucydides so well and so lively expresses it, that I know not which is more a Poem, his description, or that of Lucretius. Though it must be said, that the Historian had a vast advantage over the Poet; He having been present on the place, and assaulted by the disease himself, had the horror familiar to his Eyes, and all the shapes of the misery still remaining on his mind, which must needs make a great impression on his Pen and Fancy. Whereas the Poet was forced to allow his footsteps, and only work on that matter he allowed him. This I speak, because it may in some measure too excuse my own defects: For being so far removed from the place whereon the disease acted his Tragedy; and time having denied us many of the circumstances, customs of the Country, and other small things which would be of great use to any one who did intend to be perfect on the subject; besides only writing by an Idea of that which I never yet saw, nor care to feel, (being not of the humour of the Painter in Sir Philip Sidney, who thrust himself into the midst of a Fight, that he might the better delineate it.) Having, I say, all these disadvantages, and many more, for which I must only blame myself, it cannot be expected that I should come near equalling him, in whom none of the contrary advantages were wanting. Thus then, Sir, by emboldening me to this rash attempt, you have given opportunity to the Greek and Latin to Triumph over our Mother tongue. Yet I would not have the honour of the Countries or Languages engaged in the comparison, but that the inequality should reach no farther than the Authors. But I have much reason to fear the just indignation of that excellent Person, (the present Ornament and Honour of our Nation) whose way of writing I imitate: for he may think himself as much injured by my following him, as were the Heavens by that bold man's counterfeiting the sacred and unimitable noise of Thunder by the sound of Brass and Horses hoofs. I shall only say for myself, that I took Cicero's advice, who bids us in imitation propose the Noblest pattern to our thoughts; for so we may be sure to be raised above the common Level, though we come infinitely short of what we aim at. Yet I hope that renowned Poet will have none of my crimes any way reflect on himself; for it was not any fault in the excellent Musician, that the weak Bird, endeavouring by straining its throat, to follow his Notes, destroyed herself in the Attempt. Well, Sir, by this, that I have chosen rather to expose myself than be disobedient, you may guess with what zeal and hazard I strive to approve myself,  
SIR, Your most Humble and Affectionate Servant, THO. SPRAT.   
THUCYDIDES, Lib. 2. 
As it is excellently Translated by Mr. Hobbs.  
IN the very beginning of Summer, the Peloponnesians, and their Confederates, with two thirds of their forces, as before invaded Attica, under the conduct of Archidamus, the son of Zeuxidamas, King of Lacedaemon, and after they had encamped themselves, wasted the Country about them.  
They had not been many days in Attica, when the Plague first began amongst the Athenians, said also to have seized formerly on divers other parts, as about Lemnos, and elsewhere; but so great a Plague, and Mortality of Men, was never remembered to have happened in any place before. For at first, neither were the Physicians able to cure it, through ignorance of what it was, but died fastest themselves, as being the men that most approached the sick, nor any other art of man availed whatsoever. All supplications to the Gods, and inquiries of Oracles, and whatsoever other means they used of that kind, proved all unprofitable; insomuch as subdued with the greatness of the evil, they gave them all over. It began (by report) first, in that part of Aethiopia that lieth upon Egypt, and thence fell down into Egypt and Africa, and into the greatest part of the Territories of the King. It invaded Athens on a sudden, and touched first upon on those that dwelled in Pyraeus, insomuch as they reported that the Peloponnesians had cast poison into their Wells; for Springs there were not any in that place. But afterwards it came up into the high City, and then they died a great deal faster. Now let every man, Physician, or other, concerning the ground of this sickness, whence it sprung, and what causes he thinks able to produce for great an alteration, speak according to his own knowledge; for my own part, I will deliver but the manner of it, and lay open only such things, as one may take his Mark by, to discover the same if it come again, having been both sick of it myself, and seen others sick of the same. This year, by confession of all men, was of all other, for other Diseases, most free and healthful. If any man were sick before, his disease turned to this; if not, yet suddenly, without any apparent cause preceding, and being in perfect health, they were taken first with an extreme ache in their Heads, redness and inflammation of the Eyes; and then inwardly their Throats and Tongues grew presently bloody, and their breath noisome and unsavoury. Upon this followed a sneezing and hoarseness, and not long after, the pain, together with a mighty cough, came down into the breast. And when once it was settled in the Stomach, it caused vomit, and with great torment came up all manner of bilious purgation that Physicians ever named. Most of them had also the Hickeyexe, which brought with it a strong Convulsion, and in some ceased quickly, but in others was long before it gave over. Their bodies outwardly to the touch, were neither very hot, nor pale, but reddish, livid, and beflowred with little pimples and whelks; but so burned inwardly, as not to endure any the lightest clothes or linen garment to be upon them, nor any thing but mere nakedness, but rather, most willingly to have cast themselves into the cold water. And many of them that were not looked to, possessed with insatiate thirst, ran unto the Wells; and to drink much, or little, was indifferent, being still from ease and power to sleep as far as ever. As long as the disease was at the height, their bodies wasted not, but resisted the torment beyond all expectation, insomuch as the most of them either died of their inward burning in 9 or 7 days, whilst they had yet strength, or if they escaped that, than the disease falling down into their bellies, and causing there great exulcerations and immoderate looseness, they died many of them afterwards through weakness: For the disease (which took first the head) began above, and came down, and passed through the whole body; and he that overcame the worst of it, was yet marked with the loss of his extreme parts; for breaking out both at their Privy-members; and at their Fingers and Toes, many with the loss of these escaped. There were also some that lost there Eyes, & many that presently upon their recovery were taken with such an oblivion of all things whatsoever, as they neither knew themselves nor their acquaintance. For this was a kind of sickness which far surmounted all expression of words, and both exceeded Humane Nature, in the cruelty wherewith it handled each one, and appeared also otherwise to be none of those diseases that are bred amongst us, and that especially by this. For all, both Birds and Beasts, that use to feed on Humane flesh, though many men lay abroad unburied, either came not at them, or tasting perished. An Argument whereof as touching the Birds, is the manifest defect of such Fowl, which were not then seen, neither about the Carcases, or any where else; but by the Dogs, because they are familiar with Men, this effect was seen much clearer. So that this disease (to pass over many strange particulars of the accidents that some had differently from others) was in general such as I have shown; and for other usual sicknesses, at that time, no man was troubled with any. Now they died, some for want of attendance, and some again with all the care and Physic that could be used. Nor was there any, to say, certain Medicine, that applied must have helped them; for it did good to one, it did harm to another; nor any difference of Body for strength or weakness that was able to resist it; but it carried all away what Physic soever was administered. But the greatest misery of all was the dejection of Mind, in such as found themselves beginning to be sick, (for they grew presently desperate, and gave themselves over without making any resistance) as also their dying thus like Sheep, infected by mutual visitation: For if men forbore to visit them for fear, than they died forlorn, whereby many Families became empty, for want of such as should take care of them. If they forbore not, than they died themselves, and principally the honestest men. For out of shame, they would not spare themselves, but went in unto their friends, especially after it was come to this pass, that even their Domestics, wearied with the lamentations of them that died, and overcome with the greatness of the calamity, were no longer moved therewith. But those that were recovered, had much compassion both on them that died, and on them that lay sick, as having both known the misery themselves and now no more subject to the like danger: For this disease never took any man the second time so as to be mortal. And these men were both by others counted happy, and they also themselves, through excess of present joy, conceived a kind of light hope, never to die of any other sickness hereafter. Besides the present affliction, the reception of the Country people, and of their substance into the City, oppressed both them, and much more the people themselves that so came in. For having no Houses, but dwelling at that time of the year in stifling Booths, the Mortality was now without all form; and dying men lay tumbling one upon another in the streets, and men half dead about every Conduit through desire of water. The Temples also where they dwelled in Tents, were all full of the dead that died within them; for oppressed with the violence of the Calamity, and not knowing what to do, Men grew careless, both of Holy and Profane things alike. And the Laws which they formerly used touching Funerals, were all now broken; every one burying where he could find room. And many for want of things necessary, after so many deaths before, were forced to become impudent in the Funerals of their Friends. For when one had made a Funeral Pile, another getting before him, would throw on his dead, and give it fire. And when one was in burning, another would come, and having cast thereon him whom he carried, go his way again. And the great licentiousness, which also in other kinds was used in the City, began at first from this disease. For that which a man before would dissemble, and not acknowledge to be done for voluptuousness, he durst now do freely, seeing before his Eyes such quick revolution, of the rich dying, and men worth nothing inheriting their Estates; insomuch as they justified a speedy fruition of their Goods, even for their pleasure, as Men that thought they held their Lives but by the day. As for pains, no man was forward in any action of Honour, to take any, because they thought it uncertain whether they should die or not, before they achieved it. But what any man knew to be delightful, and to be profitable to pleasure, that was made both profitable and honourable. Neither the fear of the Gods, nor Laws of men, awed any man. Not the former, because they concluded it was alike to worship or not worship, from seeing that alike they all perished: nor the latter, because no man expected that lives would last, till he received punishment of his crimes by Judgements. But they thought there was now over their heads some far greater Judgement decreed against them; before which fell, they thought to enjoy some little part of their Lives.   

The Plague of ATHENS.  

I.  
UNhappy Man! by nature made to sway,  
And yet is every Creatures prey,  
Destroyed by those that should his power obey.  
Of the whole World we call Mankind the Lords,  
Flattering ourselves with mighty words;  
Of all things we the Monarches are,  
And so we rule, and so we domineer;  
All creatures else about us stand  
Like some Praetorian Band,  
To guard, to help, and to defend;  
Yet they sometimes prove Enemies,  
Sometimes against us rise;  
Our very Guards rebel, and tyrannize.  
Thousand Diseases sent by Fate,  
(Unhappy Servants!) on us wait;  
A thousand Treacheries within  
Are laid weak Life to win;  
Huge Troops of Maladies without,  
(A grim, a meager, and a dreadful rout:)  
Some formal Sieges make,  
And with sure slowness do our Bodies take;  
Some with quick violence storm the Town,  
And all in a moment down:  
Some one peculiar sort assail,  
Some by general attempt prevail.  
Small Herbs, alas, can only us relieve,  
And small is the assistance they can give;  
How can the fading Off spring of the Field  
Sure health and succour yield?  
What strong and certain remedy?  
What firm and lasting life can ours be?  
When that which makes us live, doth every Winter die?   

II.  
Nor is this all, we do not only breed  
Within ourselves the fatal seed  
Of change, and of decrease in every part,  
Head, Belly, Stomach, and the Root of Life the Heart,  
Not only have our Autumn, when we must  
Of our own Nature turn to Dust,  
When Leaves and fruit must fall;  
But are exposed to mighty Tempests too,  
Which do at once what that would slowly do,  
Which throw down Fruit and Tree of Life withal.  
From ruin we in vain  
Our bodies by repair maintain,  
Bodies composed of stuff,  
Mouldering and frail enough;  
Yet from without as well we fear  
A dangerous and destructful War,  
From Heaven, from Earth, from Sea, from Air.  
We like the Roman Empire should decay,  
And our own force would melt away  
By the intestine jar  
Of Elephants, which on each other prey,  
The Caesars and the Pompey's which within we bear:  
Yet are (like that) in danger too  
Of foreign Armies, and external foe,  
Sometimes the Gothish and the barbarous rage  
Of Plague or Pestilence, attens Man's age,  
Which neither Force nor Arts assuage;  
Which cannot be avoided, or withstood,  
But drowns, and overruns with unexpected Flood.   

III.  
On Aethiopia, and the Southern-sands,  
The unfrequented Coasts, and parched Land,  
Whither the Sun too kind a heat doth send,  
(The Sun, which the worst Neighbour is, and the best Friend)  
Hither a mortal influence came,  
A fatal and unhappy flame,  
Kindled by Heavens angry beam.  
With dreadful frowns the Heavens scattered here  
Cruel infectious heats into the Air,  
Now all their stores of poison sent,  
Threatening at once a general doom,  
Lavished out all their hate, and meant  
In future Ages to be innocent,  
Not to disturb the World for many years to come.  
Hold! Heavens hold! Why should your Sacred Fire,  
Which doth to all things Life inspire,  
By whose kind beams you bring  
Each year on every thing,  
A new and glorious Spring,  
Which doth th' Original seed  
Of all things in the womb of Earth that breed,  
With vital heat and quick'ning feed,  
Why should you now that heat employ,  
The Earth, the Air, the Fields, the Cities to annoy?  
That which before revived, why should it now destroy?   

IV.  
Those Africa Deserts straight were double Deserts grown,  
The ravenous Beasts were left alone,  
The ravenous beasts than first began  
To pity their old enemy Man,  
And blamed the Plague for what they would themselves have done.  
Nor stayed the cruel evil there,  
Nor could be long confined unto one Air,  
Plagues presently forsake  
The Wilderness which they themselves do make,  
Away the deadly breaths their journey take.  
Driven by a mighty wind,  
They a new booty and fresh for age find.  
The loaded wind went swiftly on,  
And as it past was heard to sigh and groan.  
On Egypt next it seized,  
Nor could but by a general ruin be appeased.  
Egypt in rage back on the South did look,  
And wondered thence should come th' unhappy stroke,  
From whence before her fruitfulness she took.  
Egypt did now curse and revile  
Those very Lands from whence she has her Nile;  
Egypt now feared another Hebrew God,  
Another Angel's Hand, a second Aaron's Rod.   

V.  
Then on it goes, and through the Sacred Land  
It's angry Forces did command,  
But God did place an Angel there,  
Its violence to withstand,  
And turn into another road the putrid Air.  
To Tyre it came, and there did all devour,  
Though that by Seas might think itself secure:  
Nor stayed, as the great Conquerors did,  
Till it had filled and stopped the tide,  
Which did it from the shore divide,  
But past the waters, and did all possess,  
And quickly all was wilderness.  
Thence it did Persia overrun,  
And all that Sacrifice unto the Sun;  
In every limb a dreadful pain they felt,  
Tortured with secret coals did melt;  
The Persians called upon their Sun in vain,  
Their God increased the pain.  
They looked up to their God no more,  
But curse the beams they worshipped before,  
And hate the very fire which once they did adore.   

VI  
Glutted with ruin of the East,  
She took her wings and down to Athens past;  
Just Plague! which dost no parties take,  
But Greece as well as Persia sack.  
While in unnatural quarrels they  
(Like Frogs and Mice) each other slay;  
Thou in thy ravenous claws took'st both away.  
Thither it came, and did destroy the Town,  
Whilst all its Ships and Soldiers looked upon:  
And now the Asian Plague did more  
Than all the Asian Force could do before.  
Without the Walls the Spartan Army sat,  
The Spartan Army came too late;  
For now there was no farther work for fate.  
They saw the City open lay,  
An easy and bootless prey,  
They saw the rampires empty stand,  
The Fleet, the Walls, the Forts Unmanned.  
No need of cruelty or slaughters now  
The Plague had finished what they came to do:  
They might now unresisted enter there,  
Did they not the very Air,  
More than th' Athenians fear.  
The Air itself to them was wall, and bulwarks too.   

VII.  
Unhappy Athens! it is true, thou wert  
The poudest work of Nature and of Art:  
Learning and strength did thee compose,  
As soul and body us:  
But yet thou only thence art made  
A nobler prey for Fates t' invade.  
Those mighty numbers that within thee breath,  
Do only serve to make a fatter feast for Death.  
Death in the most frequented places lives,  
Most tribute from the crowd receives;  
And though it bears a sigh, and seems to own  
A rustic life alone:  
It loves no Wilderness,  
No scattered Villages,  
But mighty populous Palaces,  
The throng, the tumult, and the town;  
What strange, unheard of Conqueror is this,  
Which by the forces that resist it doth increase!  
When other Conquerors are  
Obliged to make a slower war,  
Nay sometimes for themselves may fear,  
And must proceed with watchful care,  
When thicker troops of enemies appear;  
This stronger still, and more successful grows;  
Down sooner all before it throws,  
If greater multitudes of men do it oppose.   

VIII.  
The Tyrant first the haven did subdue,  
Lately the Athenians (it knew)  
Themselves by wooden walls did save,  
And therefore first to them th' infection gave,  
Lest they new succour thence receive.  
Cruel Fyraeus! now thou hast undone,  
The honour thou before hadst won:  
Not all thy Merchandise,  
Thy wealth, thy treasuries,  
Which from all Coasts thy Fleet supplies,  
Can to atone this crime suffice.  
Next o'er the upper Town it spread,  
With mad and undiscerned speed,  
In every corner, every street,  
Without a guide did set its feet,  
And too familiar every house did greet.  
Unhappy Greece of Greece! great Theseus now  
Did thee a mortal injury do,  
When first in walls he did thee close,  
When first he did thy Citizens reduce,  
Houses and Government, and Laws to use.  
It had been better if thy people still  
Dispersed in some field, or hill,  
Though Savage, and undisciplined did dwell,  
Though barbarous, untame, and rude,  
Than by their numbers thus to be subdued;  
To be by their own swarms avoid,  
And to be civilised only to be destroyed.   

IX.  
Minerva started when she heard the noise,  
And dying men's confused voice.  
From Heaven in haste she came to see  
What was the mighty prodigy.  
Upon the Castle pinnacles she sat,  
And dared not nearer fly,  
Nor midst so many deaths to trust her very Deity.  
With pitying look she saw at every gate  
Death and destruction wait;  
She wrung her hands, and called on Jove,  
And all th' immortal powers above;  
But though a Goddess now did pray,  
The Heavens refused, and turned their ear away.  
She brought her Olive, and her Shield,  
Neither of these Alas! assistance yield.  
She looked upon Medusa's face,  
Was angry that she was  
Herself of an Immortal Race,  
Was angry that her Gorgon's head  
Could not strike her as well as others dead;  
She sat, and wept a while, and then away she fled.   

X.  
Now Death began her sword to where,  
Not all the Cyclops sweat,  
Nor Vulcan's mighty Anvils could prepare  
Weapons enough for her,  
No weapon large enough but all the Air;  
Men felt the heat within 'em rage,  
And hoped the Air would it assuage,  
Called for its help, but th' Air did them deceive,  
And aggravate the ills it should relieve.  
The Air no more was Vital now,  
But did a moral poison grow;  
The Lungs which used to fan the heart,  
Only now served to fire each part,  
What should refresh more ased the smart,  
And now their very breath,  
The chiefest sign of life, turned the cause of death.   

XI.  
Upon the Head first the disease,  
As a bold Conqueror doth seize,  
Begins with Man's Metropolis,  
Secured the Capitol, and then it knew  
It could at pleasure weaker parts subdue.  
Blood started through each eye;  
The redness of that Sky,  
foretell a tempest nigh.  
The tongue did flow all ore  
With clotted Filth and Gore;  
As doth a Lions when some innocent prey  
He hath devoured and brought away:  
Hoarseness and sores the throat did fill,  
And stopped the passages of speech and life;  
No room was left for groans or grief;  
Too cruel and imperious ill!  
Which not content to kill,  
With tyrannous and dreadful pain,  
Dost take from men the very power to complain.   

XII.  
Then down, it went into the breast,  
There are all the seats and shops of life possessed,  
Such noisomo smells from thence did come,  
As if the stomach were a tomb;  
No food would there abide,  
Or if it did, turned to the enemy's side,  
The very meat new poisons to the Plague supplied.  
Next to the heart the fires came,  
The heart did wonder what usurping flame,  
What unknown furnace should  
On its more natural heat intrude,  
Straight called its spirits up, but found too well,  
It was too late now to rebel.  
The tainted blood its course began,  
And carried death where ere it ran,  
That which before was Nature's noblest Art,  
The circulation from the heart,  
Was most destructful now,  
And Nature speedier did undo,  
For that the sooner did impart  
The poison and the smart,  
The infectious blood to every distant part.   

XIII.  
The belly felt at last its share,  
And all the subtle labyrinths there  
Of winding bowels did new Monsters bear.  
Here seven days it ruled and swayed,  
And ofner killed because it death so long delayed.  
But if through strength and heat of age,  
The body overcame its rage,  
The Plague departed, as the Devil doth,  
When driven by prayers away he goeth.  
If Prayers and Heaven do him control,  
And if he cannot have the soul,  
Himself out of the roof or window throws,  
And will not all his labour lose,  
But takes away with him part of the house:  
So here the vanquished evil took from them  
Who conquered it, some part, some limb;  
Some lost the use of hands, or eyes,  
Some arms, some legs, some thighs,  
Some all their lives before forgot,  
Their minds were but one darker blot;  
Those various pictures in the head,  
And all the numerous shapes were fled;  
And now they ransacked memory  
Languished in naked poverty,  
Had lost its mighty treasury;  
They passed the Lethe-Lake, although they did not die.   

XIV.  
Whatever lesser Maladies men had,  
They all gave place and vanished;  
Those petty tyrants fled,  
And at this mighty Conqueror shrunk their head.  
Fevers, Agues, Palsies, Stone,  
Gout, Colic, and Consumption,  
And all the milder Generation,  
By which Mankind is by degrees undone,  
Quickly were rooted out and gone;  
Men saw themselves freed from the pain,  
Rejoiced, but all alas, in vain,  
'Twas an unhappy remedy,  
Which cured 'em that they might both worse and sooner die.   

XV.  
Physicians now could nought prevail,  
They the first spoils to the proud Victor fall,  
Nor would the Plague their knowledge trust,  
But feared their skill, and therefore slew them first:  
So Tyrants when they would confirm their yoke,  
First make the chiefest men to feel the stroke,  
The chiefest and the wisest heads, lest they  
Should soon disobey,  
Should first rebel, and others learn from them the way.  
No aid of herbs, or juices power,  
None of Apollo's art could cure,  
But helped the Plague the speedier to devour.  
Physic itself was a disease,  
Physic the fatal tortures did increase,  
Prescriptions did the pains renew,  
And Aesculapius to the sick did come,  
As afterwards to Rome,  
In form of Serpent, brought new poisons with him too.   

XVI.  
The streams did wonder, that so soon  
As they were from their Native mountains gone,  
They saw themselves drunk up, and fear  
Another Xerxes Army near.  
Some cast into the pit the Urn,  
And drink it dry at its return:  
Again they drew, again they drank;  
At first the coolness of the stream did thank,  
But straight the more were scorched, the more did burn;  
And drunk with water in their drinking sank:  
That Urn which now to quench their thirst they use,  
Shortly their Ashes shall enclose.  
Others into the Crystal brook,  
With faint and wondering eyes did look,  
Saw what a ghastly shape themselves had took,  
Away they would have fled, but them their legs forsaken.  
Some snached the waters up,  
Their hands, their mouths the cup;  
They drunk, and found they flamed the more,  
And only added to the burning store.  
So have I seen on Lime cold water thrown,  
Straight all was to a Ferment grown,  
And hidden seeds of fire together run:  
The heap was calm, and temperate before,  
Such as the Finger could endure;  
But when the moistures it provoke,  
Did rage, did swell, did smoke,  
Did move, and flame, and burn, and straight to ashes broke.   

XVII.  
So strong the heat, so strong the torments were,  
They like some mighty burden bear  
The lightest coverig of Air.  
All Sexes and all Ages do invade  
The bounds which Nature laid,  
The Laws of modesty which Nature made.  
The Virgins blush not, yet unclothed appear,  
Undressed do run about, yet never fear.  
The pain and the disease did now  
Unwillingly reduce men to  
That nakedness once more,  
Which perfect health and innocence caused before.  
No sleep, no peace, no rest,  
Their wand'ring and affrighted minds possessed;  
Upon their souls and eyes,  
Hell and Eternal horror lies,  
Unusual shapes, and imagies,  
Dark pictures, and resemblances  
Of things to come, and of the World below,  
O'er their distempered fancies go:  
Sometimes they curse, sometimes they pray unto  
The Gods above, the Gods beneath;  
Sometimes they cruelties, and fury breath,  
Not sleep, but waking now was sister unto death.   

XVIII.  
Scattered in Fields the Bodies lay,  
The earth called to the Fowls to take their Flesh away.  
In vain she called, they come not nigh,  
Nor would their food with their own ruin buy,  
But at full meals, they hunger, pine and die.  
The Vulture's afar off did see the feast,  
Rejoiced, and called their friends to taste,  
They rallied up their troops in haste,  
Along came mighty droves,  
Forsook their young ones, and their groves,  
Each one his native mountain and his nest;  
They come, but all their carcases abhor,  
And now avoid the dead men more  
Than weaker birds did living men before.  
But if some bolder fowls the flesh essay,  
They were destroyed by their own prey.  
The Dog no longer barked at coming guest,  
Reputes its being a domestic Beast,  
Did to the woods and mountains haste:  
The very Owls at Athens are  
But seldom seen and rare,  
The Owls depart in open day,  
Rather than in infected Ivy more to stay.   

XIX.  
Mountains of bones and carcases,  
The streets, the Marketplace possess,  
Threatening to raise a new Acropolis.  
Here lies a mother and her child,  
The infant sucked as yet, and smiled,  
But straight by its own food was killed.  
There parents hugged their children last,  
Here parting lovers last embraced,  
But yet not parting neither,  
They both expired and went away together.  
Here prisoners in the Dungeon die,  
And gain a twofold liberty,  
They meet and thank their pains  
Which them from double chains  
Of body and of iron free.  
Here others poisoned by the scent  
Which from corrupted bodies went,  
Quickly return the death they did receive,  
And death to others give;  
Themselves now dead the air pollute the more,  
For which they others cursed before,  
Their bodies kill all that come near,  
And even after death they all are murderers here.   

XX.  
The friend doth hear his friends last cries,  
Parteth his grief for him, and dies,  
Lives not enough to close his eyes.  
The father at his death  
Speaks his son heir with an infectious breath;  
In the same hour the son doth take  
His father's will, and his own make.  
The servant needs not here be slain,  
To serve his master in the other would again;  
They languishing together lie,  
Their souls away together fly;  
The husband gasp'th and his wife lies by,  
It must be her turn next to die,  
The husband and the wife  
Too truly now are one, and live one life.  
That couple which the Gods did entertain,  
Had made their prayer here in vain;  
No fates in death could then divide,  
They must without their privilege together both have died.   

XXI.  
There was no number now of death,  
The sisters scarce stood still themselves to breath:  
The sisters now quite wearied  
In cutting single thread,  
Began at once to part whole looms.  
One stroke did give whole houses dooms;  
Now died the frosty hairs,  
The Aged and decrepit years,  
They fell, and only begged of Fate,  
Some few months more, but 'twas alas too late,  
Then Death, as if ashamed of that,  
A Conquest so degenerate,  
Cut off the young and lusty too;  
The young were reckoning over  
What happy days, what joys they had in store;  
But ffate, ere they had finished their account, them slew.  
The wretched Usurer died,  
And had no time to tell where he his treasures hid.  
The Merchant did behold  
His Ships return with Spice and Gold;  
He saw't, and turned aside his head,  
Nor thanked the Gods, but fell amidst his riches dead.   

XXII.  
The Meetings and Assemblies cease, no more  
The people throng about the Orator,  
No course of Justice did appear,  
No noise of Lawyers filled the ear,  
The Senate cast away  
The Robe of Honour, and obey  
Deaths more restless sway,  
Whilst that with Dictatorian power  
Doth all the great and lesser Officers devour.  
No Magistrates did walk about;  
No purple awed the rout,  
The common people too  
A purple of their own did show;  
And all their Bodies o'er,  
The ruling colours bore,  
No Judge, no Legislators sit  
Since this new Draco came,  
And harsher Laws did frame,  
Laws that like his in blood are writ.  
The Benches and the Pleading-place they leave,  
About the streets they run and rave:  
The madness which Great Solon did of late  
But counterfeit  
For the advantage of the State,  
Now his successors do too truly imitate.   

XXIII.  
Up starts the Soldier from his bed,  
He though Death's servant is not freed,  
Death him cashiered, 'cause now his help she did not need.  
He that ne'er knew before to yield,  
Or to give back or lead the Field,  
Would fain now from himself have fled.  
He snatched his sword now rusted o'er,  
Dreadful and sparkling now no more,  
And thus in open streets did roar:  
How have I death so ill deserved of thee,  
That now thyself thou shouldst revenge on me?  
Have I so many lives on thee bestowed?  
Have I the earth so often died in blood?  
Have I to flatter thee so many slain?  
And must I now thy prey remain?  
Let me at least, if I must die,  
Meet in the Field some gallant enemy.  
Send Gods the Persian troops again;  
No they're a base and degenerate train;  
They by our Women may be slain.  
Give me great Heavens some manful foes,  
Let me my death amidst some valiant Grecians choose,  
Let me survive to die at Syracuse,  
Where my dear Country shall her Glory lose  
For you Great Gods! into my dying mind infuse,  
What miseries, what doom  
Must on my Athens shortly come:  
My thoughts inspired presage,  
Saughters and Battles to the coming Age;  
Oh! might I die upon that glorious stage:  
Oh that! but than he grasped his sword, & death concludes his rage.   

XXIV.  
Draw back, draw back thy sword, O Fate!  
Lest thou repent when 'tis too late,  
Lest by thy making now so great a waste,  
By spending all Mankind upon one feast,  
Thou starve thyself at last:  
What men wilt thou reserve in store,  
Whom in the time to come thou mayst devour,  
When thou shalt have destroyed all before:  
But if thou wilt not yet give o'er,  
If yet thy greedy Stomach calls for more,  
If more remain whom thou must kill,  
And if thy jaws are craving still,  
Carry thy fury to the Scythian coasts,  
The Northern wildness, and eternal frosts!  
Against those barbarous crowds thy arrows whet,  
Where Arts and Laws are strangers yet;  
Where thou may'st kill, and yet the loss will not be great,  
There rage, there spread, and there infect the Air,  
Murder whole towns and families there,  
Thy worst against those Savage nations dare,  
Those whom Mankind can spare,  
Those whom mankind itself doth fear;  
Amidst that dreadful night, and fatal cold,  
There thou may'st walk unseen, and bold,  
There let thy Flames their Empire hold.  
Unto the farthest Seas, and Nature's ends,  
Where never Summer Sun its beams extends,  
Carry thy plagues, thy pains, thy heats,  
Thy raging fires, thy torturing sweats,  
Where never ray, or heat did come,  
They will rejoice at such a doom.  
They'll bless thy Pestilential fire,  
Though by it they expire,  
They'll thank the very Flames with which they do consume.   

XXV.  
Then if that banquet will not thee suffice,  
Seek out new Lands where thou mayst tyrannize;  
Search every forest, every hill,  
And all that in the hollow mountains dwell;  
Those wild and untame troops devour,  
Thereby thou wilt the rest of men secure,  
And that the rest of men will thank thee for.  
Let all those humane beasts be slain,  
Till scarce their memory remain;  
Thyself with that ignoble slaughter fill,  
'Twill be permitted thee that blood to spill.  
Measure the ruder world throughout,  
March all the Ocean shores about,  
Only pass by and spare the British Isle.  
Go on, and (what Columbus once shall do,  
When days and time unto their ripeness grow)  
Find out new lands, and unknown countries too.  
Attempt those lands which yet are hid  
From all Mortality beside:  
There thou mayst steal a victory,  
And none of this world hear the cry  
Of those that by thy wounds shall die;  
No Greek shall know thy cruelty,  
And tell it to posterity.  
Go, and unpeople all those mighty Lands,  
Destroy with unrelenting hands;  
Go, and the Spaniards sword prevent;  
Go, make the Spaniard innocent;  
Go, and root out all mankind there,  
That when the European Armies shall appear,  
Their sin may be the less,  
They may find all a wilderness,  
And without blood the gold and silver there possess.   

XXVI.  
Nor is this all which we thee grant;  
Rather than thou shouldst full employment want,  
We do permit in Greece itself thy Kingdom plant.  
Ransack Lycurgus streets throughout,  
They've no defence of walls to keep thee out.  
On wanton and proud Corinth seize,  
Nor let her double waves thy flames appease.  
Let Cyprus feel more fires than those of Love:  
Let Delos which at first did give the Sun,  
See unknown Flames in her begun,  
Now let her wish she might unconstant prove,  
And from her place might truly move:  
Let Lemnos all thy anger feel,  
And think that a new Vulcan fell,  
And brought with him new Anvils, and new hell.  
Nay at Athens too we give thee up,  
All that thou findest in Field, or camp, or shop,  
Make havoc there without control  
Of every ignorant and common soul.  
But then kind Plague, thy conquests stop;  
Let Arts, and let the learned there escape,  
Upon Minerva's self commit no rape;  
Touch not the sacred throng,  
And let Apollo's Priests be (like him) young,  
Let him be healthful too, and strong.  
But ah! too ravenous Plague, whilst I  
Strive to keep off the misery,  
The learned too as fast as others round me die;  
They from corruption are not free,  
Are mortal though they give an immortality.   

XXVII.  
They turned their Authors o'er, to try  
What help, what cure, what remedy  
All Nature's stores against this Plague supply,  
And though besides they shunned it every where,  
They searched it in their books, and fain would meet it there.  
They turned the Records of the ancient times,  
And chiefly those that were made famous by their crimes;  
To find if men were punished so before,  
But found not the disease nor cure.  
Nature alas! was now surprised,  
And all her Forces seized,  
Before she was how to resist advised:  
So when the Elephants did first affright  
The Romans with unusual fight,  
They many battles lose,  
Before they knew their foes,  
Before they understood such dreadful troops t'oppose.   

XXVIII.  
Now every different Sect agrees  
Against their common adversary the disease,  
And all their little wranglings cease;  
The Pythagoreans from their precepts swerve,  
No more their silence they observe,  
Out of their Schools they run,  
Lament, and cry, and groan;  
They now desired their Metempsychosis;  
Not only do dispute, but wish  
That they might turn to beasts, or fowls, or fish.  
If the Platonics had been here,  
They would have cursed their Master's year,  
When all things shall be as they were,  
When they again the same disease should bear:  
And all the Philosophers would now,  
What the great Stagyrite shall do,  
Themselves into the waters headlong throw.   

XXIX.  
The Stoic felt the deadly stroke,  
At first assault their courage was not broke,  
They called to all the Cobweb aid,  
Of rules and precepts which in store they had;  
They bid their hearts stand out,  
Bid them be calm and stout;  
But all the strength of precepts will not do't.  
They can't the storms of passions now assuage,  
As common men, are angry, grieve, and rage.  
The Gods are called upon in vain,  
The Gods gave no release unto their pain,  
The Gods to fear even for themselves began.  
For now the sick unto the temples came,  
And brought more than a holy flame,  
There at the Altars made their prayer,  
They sacrificed and died there,  
A sacrifice not seen before;  
That Heaven, only used unto the gore  
Of Lambs or Bulls, should now  
Loaded with Priests see its own Altars too.   

XXX.  
The woods gave funeral piles no more,  
The dead the very fire devour,  
And that almighty Conqueror overpower.  
The noble and the common dust  
Into each others graves are thrust,  
No place is sacred, and no tomb,  
'Tis now a privilege to consume;  
Their ashes no distinction had;  
Too truly all by death are equal made.  
The Ghosts of those great Heroes that had fled  
From Athens long since banished,  
Now o'er the City hovered;  
Their anger yielded to their love,  
They left th' immortal joys above,  
So much their Athens danger did them move,  
They came to pity and to aid,  
But now, alas! were quite dismayed,  
When they beheld the marbles open laid,  
And poor men's bones the noble Urns invade:  
Back to the blessed seats they went,  
And now did thank their banishment,  
By which they were to die in foreign Countries sent.   

XXXI.  
But what, Great Gods! was worst of all,  
Hell forth its magazines of Lusts did call,  
Nor would it be content  
With the thick troops of souls were thither sent;  
Into the upper world it went.  
Such guilt, such wickedness,  
Such irreligion did increase,  
That the few good who did survive,  
Were angry with the Plague for suffering them to live,  
More for the living than the dead did grieve.  
Some robbed the very dead,  
Though sure to be infected ere they fled,  
Though in the very Air sure to be punished.  
Some nor the shrines nor temples spared,  
Nor Gods, nor Heavens feared,  
Though such examples of their power appeared.  
Virtue was now esteemed an empty name,  
And honesty the foolish voice of fame;  
For having passed those torturing flames before,  
They thought the punishment already o'er,  
Thought Heaven no worse torments had in store;  
Here having felt one Hell, they thought there was no more.   
FINIS.   

A List of some choice Books, Printed for Henry, Brome at the Gun in Ivy-lane.  

POems Lyrique, by Mr. Henry Bold.  
POems Macronique, by Mr. Henry Bold.  
POems Heroic, etc. by Mr. Henry Bold.  
Songs and Poems by Mr. A. Brome, the second Edition.  
All the Songs and Poems on the Long Parliament, from 1640 till 1661. by Persons of Quality.  
Songs and Poems by the Wits of both Universities.  
Scarronides, or Virgil travesty, a Mock-Poem, being the first Book of Virgil's Aeneis in English, Burlesque.  
Scarronnides, or Virgil travesty, a Mock-Poem, being the fourth Book of Virgil's Aeneis in English, Burlesque: both by a Person of Honour.  
Also, a List of what Damages we have received by the Dutch; And a brief History of the late War with the Turks.  
Sir George downing's Reply. 

PLAYS.  
The English Moor.  
The Lovesick Court.  
The New Academy.  
The Weeding of Covent-garden.  
The Royal Exchange.  
The Jovial Crew; or the Merry Beggars.  
All by Mr. Bichard Brome.    
Two excellent pieces of Music, the Division Viol., or the Art of playing extempore on a Ground in folio. The principles of Practical Music in a Compendious Method for Beginners either in Singing or Playing, both by Mr. Ch. Simpson.  
Diodates' Notes, on the whole Bible in fol.  
The Complete History of Independency in 4 Parts, by Clement Walker Esq.  
Bp. Ushers 18 Sermons preached at Oxon.  
Blood for Blood, in 35 Tragical Stories.  
The Temple of Wisdom, by John Heyden.  
Trapp on the Major Prophets, in fol.  
The Alliance of Divine Offices, by Hamond Lestrange.  
Dr. Sparks Devotions on all the Festivals of the year, adorned with sculpture.  
Bp. sanderson's 5 Cases of Conscience, lately published.  
Divine Anthems sung in all great Cathedrals in England.  
A Brief rule of Life.  
A Guide to Heaven from the word, or directions how to close savingly with Christ, with strict Observations on the Lord's Day, in 12.  
A Geographical Descripton of All Towns, Countries, Ports, Seas, and Rivers, in the whole World.  
Justice Revived, or the whole Office of a Country Justice, 8ᵒ.  
The Exact Constable: Both by Mr. Wingate Esq.  
All Mr. L'Estrange's pieces against the Presbyterians.