THE AUTHOR'S POSTSCRIPT TO HIS SATIRES. T is not for every one to relifh a true and naaral fatire, being of itfelf, befides the nature and abred bitterness and tartness of particulars, both ard of conceit and harsh of ftyle, and therefore annot but be unpleafing both to the unfkilful and ver musical car; the one being affected with onya fhallow and easy matter, the other with a nooth and current difpofition: fo that I well oresee in the timely publication of these my conealed fatires, I am fet upon the rack of many ercileffe and peremptory cenfures, which fith the almest and most plausible writer is almost fatally abject to, in the curiofity of these nicer times, ow may I hope to be exempted upon the occafion f fo bufy and stirring a subject? One thinks it nif-befeeming the author, becaufe a poem; anoher, unlawful in itself, because a satire; a third, armful to others, for the sharpness; and a fourth, anfatire-like, for the mildness: the learned, too perfpicuous, being named with Juvenal, Perfius, and the other ancient fatires: the unlearned, favourless, because too obfcure, and obfcure, because not under their reach. What a monster muft he be that would please all! Certainly look what weather it would be, if every almanack fhould be verified: much what like poems, if every fancy fhould be fuited. It is not for this kind to defire or hope to please, which naturally fhould only find pleasure in displeasing: notwithstanding, if the fault finding with the vices of the time may honefly accord with the good will of the parties, I had as lieve eafe myself with a flender apology, as wilfully bear the brunt of caufelefs anger in my filence: for poetry itself, after the fo effectual and abfolute endeavours of her honoured patrons, either the needeth no new defence, or elle might well fcorn the offer of fø impotent and poor a client. Only for my own part, though were she a more unworthy mistrefs, I think the might be inoffenfively ferved with the broken meffes of our twelve o'clock hours, which homely fervice fhe only claimed and found of me, for that fhort while of my attendance: yet having thus foon taken my folenin farewell of her, and fhak'd hands with all her retinue, why fhould it be an eye-fore unto any, fith it can be no lofs to myfelf? For my fatires themselves, I fee two obvious cavils to be answered: one concerning the matter; than which I confefs none can be more open to danger, to envy; fith faults loath nothing more than the light, and men love nothing more than their faults; and therefore, what through the nature of the faults, and fault of the perfons, it is impoffible fo violent an appeachment should be quietly brooked. But why fhould vices be unblamed for fear of blame? And if thou may'st fpit upon a toad unvenomed, why may'ft hou not speak of vice without danger? Efpecially fo warily as I have endeavoured; who, in the unpartial mention of fo many vices, may fafely profefs to be altogether guiltlefs in myself to the intention of any guilty perfon who might be blemifhed by the likelihood of my conceived application, thereupon choofing rather to marre mine own verfe, than another's name; which, notwithstanding, if the injurious reader fhall wreft to his own fpight, and difparaging of others, it is a fhort anfwer, Art thou guilty? Complain not, thou art not wronged. Art thou guiltless? Complain not, thou art not touched. The other, concerning the manner, wherein perhaps too much stooping to it yield nothing but a flashy and loofe concerto the judgment. Whereas the Roman numbers, tying but one foot to another, offereth a grea freedom of variety, with mach more delight a the reader. Let my fecond ground be, the w known dainties of the time; fuch, that men to ther choose carelessly to lose the sweet of the ke nel, than to urge their teeth with breaking the fhell wherein it was wrapped; and therefore in that which is unseen is almost undone, and that a almoft unfeen which is unconceived, either i would fay nothing to be untalk'd of, or f with my mouth open, that I may be underfood Thirdly, the end of this pains was a fatire, the end of my fatire a further good, which whe ther I attain or no, I know not; but let me plain with the hope of profit, rather than pep ly obfcure only for a bare name's fake. the low reach of the vulgar, I fhall be thought not to have any whit kindly raught my ancient Ro-well afford a pleafing harmony to the ear, fo verfe, to which he fettereth himself, as it may man predeceffors, whom, in the want of more late and familiar precedents, I am conftrained thus far off to imitate; which thing I can be fo willing to grant, that I am further ready to warrant my action therein to any indifferent cenfure. First, therefore, I dare boldly avouch, that the English is not altogether fo natural to a fatire as the Latin; which I do not impute to the nature of the language itself, being fo far from difabling it any way, that methinks I durft equal it to the proudest in every refpect; but to that which is common to it with all the other common languages, Italian, French, German, &c. In their poefies, the fettering together the Teries of the verfes, with the bonds of like cadence or definence of rhyme, which, if it be unufually abrupt, and not dependent in fenfe upon fo near affinity of words, I know not what a leathsome kind of harfhnefs and difcordance it breedeth to any judicial ear; which if any more confident adverfary fhall goinfay, I wish no better trial than the tranflation of one of Perfius's fatires into English; the difficulty and diffonance whereof fhall make good my affertion befides, the plain experience there-fo I might have fomewhat to ftop the mout of in the fatires of Ariosto, (fave which, and one bafe French fatire, I could never attain the view of any for my direction, and that also might for need ferve for an excufe at least) whose chain quarrel, I think my firft fatire doth fomewhat th Notwithstanding, in the expectation of t femble the four and crabbed face of Juven which I, endeavouring in that, did determina omit in the reft, for thefe forenamed caufis, which let be as favourable as so thankkis a wa A DEFIANCE TO ENVY. NAY, let the prouder pines of Ida feare The fudden fires of heaven, and decline Whofe fwelling grains are like begall'd alone, Stand ye fecure, ye fafer shrubs below, Let high attempts dread euvy and ill tongues, So wont big oaks feare winding ivy weed; So adders fhroud themfelves in faireft leaves; Nor the low bush feares climbing ivy twine; Nor bafer deed dreads envy and ill tongues, That envy should accoft my muse and me, And hopen now to fhoulder from above Or lift the rather in late triumph reare May-be the might in ftately ftanzas frame And fomewhat fay, as more unworthy done, Then might vain Envy wafte her duller wing, But now fuch lowly fatires here I fing, Too good (if ill) to be expos'd to blame; Since in our fatire lies both good and ill, And they and it in varying readers will. Would the but fhade her tender browes with bay, So good and ill in fickle cenfure lies. That now lie bare in careleife wilful rage; And trance herself in that sweet extacy, That rouzeth drooping thoughts of bashful age: (Though now thofe bays and that afpired thought, In careleffe rage fhe fets at worse than nought.) Or would we loofe her plumy pineon, Manicled long with bonds of modeft feare, [gone, Witneffe, ye Mufes, how I wilful fung mong; The ruder fatire fhould go ragg'd and bare, Would we but breathe within a wax-bound | Whether fo me lift my lovely thought to fing, quill, Pan's feven-fold pipe, fome plaintive pastoral, To teach each hollow grove and fhrubby hill, Each murmuring brook, each folitary vale, To found our love, and to our fong accord, Wearying Echo with one changleffe word. Or lift us make two striving fhepherds Ling, Another layeth a well-marked lamb, Or fpotted kid, or fome more forward fteere; And from the paile doth praise their fertile dam : So do they ftrive in doubt, in hope, in feare, Come dance, ye nimble Dryads, by my fide; Ye gentle wood-nymphs, come; and with ya bring The willing fawns, that mought your cald Come nymphs and. fawns, that haunt thei: fhady groves, While I report my fortunes or my loves. Or whether lift me fing fo perfonate, At Colin's feet I throw my yielding reed; But now (ye Mufes) fith your facred hefts fend. SATIRES. BOOK I. PROLOGUE. I firft adventure, with fool-hardy might, Whence damned vice is forouded quite from fame, The world's eye-bleared with those fameless lyesz SATIRE I. NOR ladies wanton love, nor wand'ring knight, To paint fome Bloweffe with a borrowed grace; As mought the Graces move my mirth to praise. + E. of Surrey, Wyar, Sidney, Dyer, &c. Of ivy mix'd with bays, circling around |