1201

1205

1210

[sce:

115

For not so common was his bountie shared;
Let God, (said he) if please, care for the manie, 1:95
for my selfe must care before els anie:
So did he good to none, to manie ill,
So did he all the kingdome rob and pill,
Yet none durst speake, ne none durst of him plaine;
So great he was in grace, and rich through gaine.
Ne would he anie let to have accesse
Unto the Prince, but by his owne addresse:
For all that els did come, were sure to faile;
Yet would he further none but for availe.
For on a time the Sheepe, to whom of yore
The Foxe had promised of friendship store,
What time the Ape the kingdome first did gaine,
Came to the Court, her case there to complaine;
How that the Wolfe, her mortall enemie,
Had sithence slaine her Lambe most cruellie;
And therefore crav'd to come unto the King,
To let him knowe the order of the thing.
"Soft Gooddie Sheepe! (then said the Foxe) not
Unto the King so rash ye may not goe;
He is with greater matter busied
Than a Lambe, or the Lambes owne mothers hed.
Ne certes may I take it well in part,
That ye my cousin Wolfe so fowly thwart,
And seeke with slaunder his good name to blot:
For there was cause, els doo it he would not : 1220
Therefore surcease, good Dame, and hence depart."
So went the Sheepe away with heavie hart:
So manie moe, so everie one was used,
That to give largely to the boxe refused.
Now when high Iove, in whose almightie hand 1225
The care of Kings and power of Empires stand,
Sitting one day within his turret hye,
From whence he vewes, with his black-lidded eye,
Whatso the heaven in his wide vawte containes,
And all that in the deepest earth remaines;
And troubled kingdome of wilde beasts behelde,
Whom not their kindly Sovereigne did welde,
But an usurping Ape, with guile suborn'd,
Had all subverst; he sdeignfully it scorn'd
In his great heart, and hardly did refraine,
But that with thunder bolts he had him slaine,
And driven downe to hell, his dewest meed:
But, him avizing, he that dreadfull deed
Forbore, and rather chose with scornfull shame
Him to avenge, and blot his brutish name
Unto the world, that never after anie
Should of his race be voyd of infamie;

And his false counsellor, the cause of all,
To damne to death, or dole perpetuall,

1230

1235

1240

From whence he never should be quit, nor stal'd. 1245
Forthwith he Mercurie unto him cal'd,
And bad him flie with never resting speed
Unto the forrest, where wilde beasts doo breed,
And there enquiring privily, to learne
What did of late chaunce to the Lyon stearne, 1250
That he rul'd not the Empire, as he ought;
And whence were all those plaints unto him brought
Of wrongs, and spoyles, by salvage beasts com-
Which done, he bad the Lyon be remitted [mitted:
Into his seate, and those same treachours vile 1255
Be punished for their presumptuous guile.
The Sonne of Maia, soone as he receiv'd
That word, streight with his azure wings he cleav'd

1260

The liquid clowdes, and lucid firmament;
Ne staid, till that he came with steep descent
Unto the place, where his prescript did showe.
There stouping, like an arrowe from a bowe,
He soft arrived on the grassie plaine,
And fairly paced forth with easie paine,
Till that unto the Pallace nigh he came.
Then gan he to himselfe new shape to frame;
And that faire face, and that ambrosiall hew,
Which wonts to decke the gods immortall crew,
And beautefie the shinie firmament,
He doft, unfit for that rude rabblement.
So, standing by the gates in strange disguize,
He gan enquire of some in secret wize,
Both of the King, and of his government,
And of the Foxe, and his false blandishment:
And evermore he heard each one complaine
Of foule abuses both in realme and raine.
Which yet to prove more true, he meant to see,
And an ey-witnes of each thing to bee.
Tho on his head his dreadfull hat he dight,
Which maketh him invisible in sight,
And mocketh th' eyes of all the lookers on,
Making them thinke it but a vision.
Through power of that, he runnes through enemies
Through power of that, he passeth through the herds
Of ravenous wilde beasts, and doth beguile
Their greedie mouthes of the expected spoyle ;
Through power of that, his cunning theeveries
He wonts to worke, that none the same espies;
And, through the power of that, he putteth on
What shape he list in apparition.

1280

[swerds;

1:36

1290

130

That on his head he wore, and in his hand
He tooke Caduceus his snakie wand,
With which the damned ghosts he governeth,
And furies rules, and Tartare tempereth.
With that he causeth sleep to seize the eyes,
And feare the harts, of all his enemyes;
And, when him list, an universall night
Throughout the world he makes on everie wight;
As when his Syre with Alcumena lay:
Thus dight, into the Court he tooke his way,
Both through the gard, which never him deseride,
And through the watchmen, who him never spide :
Thenceforth he past into each secrete part,
Whereas he saw, that sorely griev'd his hart,
Each place abounding with fowle iniuries,
And fild with treasure rackt with robberies;
Each place defilde with blood of guiltles beasts,
Which had been slaine to serve the Apes beheasts;
Gluttonie, malice, pride, and covetize,
And lawlesnes raigning with riotize;
Besides the infinite extortions,

1308

1310

Done through the Foxes great oppressions,
That the complaints thereof could not be tolde.
Which when he did with lothfull eyes beholde,
He would no more endure, but came his way, 1335
And cast to seeke the Lion, where he may,
That he might worke the avengement for this shame
On those two caytives, which had bred him blame.
And, seeking all the forrest busily,
At last he found, where sleeping he did ly:
The wicked weed, which there the Foxe did lay,
From underneath his head he tooke away,
And then him waking, forced up to rize.

Ver. 1264. TODD. Ver. 1294. T. WARTON.

- paine,] Labour or exertion. Fr. peine tempereth.] Governs. A plain Latinism

1325

1330

The Lion looking up gan him avize,
As one late in a traunce, what had of long
Become of him: for fantasie is strong.
"Arise, (said Mercurie) thou sluggish beast,
That here liest senseles, like the corpse deceast,
The whilste thy kingdome from thy head is rent,
And thy throne royall with dishonour blent :
Arise, and doo thy selfe redeeme from shame,
And be aveng'd on those that breed thy blame."
Thereat enraged, soone he gan upstart,
Grinding his teeth, and grating his great hart;
And, rouzing up himselfe, for his rough hide
He gan to reach ; but no where it espide :
Therewith he gan full terribly to rore,
And chafte at that indignitie right sore.

1335

And threatned death, and thousand deadly dolours,
To them that had purloyn'd his Princely honours.
With that in hast, disroabed as he was,

He toward his owne Pallace forth did pas;
And all the way he roared as he went,
That all the forrest with astonishment
Thereof did tremble, and the beasts therein
Fled fast away from that so dreadfull din.
At last he came unto his mansion,
Where all the gates he found fast lockt anon,
And manie warders round about them stood :
With that he roar'd alowd, as he were wood,
That all the Pallace quaked at the stound,
As if it quite were riven from the ground,
And all within were dead and hartles left;

1345

1350

1355

1365

1370

And th' Ape himselfe, as one whose wits were reft,
Fled here and there, and everie corner sought,
To hide himselfe from his owne feared thought.
But the false Foxe when he the Lion heard,
Fled closely forth, streightway of death afeard, 1360
And to the Lion came, full lowly creeping,
With fained face, and watrie eyne halfe weeping,
T'excuse his former treason and abusion.
And turning all unto the Apes confusion:
Nath'les the Royall Beast forbore beleeving,
But bad him stay at ease till further preeving.
Then when he saw no entrance to him graunted,
Roaring yet lowder that all harts it daunted,
Upon those gates with force he fiercely flewe,
And, rending them in pieces, felly slewe
Those warders strange, and all that els he met.
But th' Ape still flying he no where might get :
From rowme to rowme, from beame to beame he fled
All breathles, and for feare now almost ded:
Yet him at last the Lyon spyde, and caught,
And forth with shame unto his iudgement brought.
Then all the beasts he caus'd assembled bee,
To heare their doome, and sad ensample see:
The Foxe, first Author of that treacherie,
He did uncase, and then away let flie.
But th' Apes long taile (which then he had) he
Cut off, and both eares pared of their hight; [quight
Since which, all Apes but halfe their eares have left,
And of their tailes are utterlie bereft.

1375

1390

So Mother Hubberd her discourse did end: 133 Which pardon me, if I amisse have pend; For weake was my remembrance it to hold, And bad her tongue that it so bluntly tolde.

YE heavenly spirites, whose ashie cinders lie
Under deep ruines, with huge walls opprest,
But not your praise, the which shall never die
Through your faire verses, ne in ashes rest;
If so be shrilling voyce of wight alive
May reach from hence to depth of darkest hell,
Then let those deep abysses open rive,
That ye may understand my shreiking yell!
Thrice having seene under the heavens veale
Your toombs devoted compasse over all,
Thrice unto you with lowd voyce I appeale,
And for your antique furie here doo call,

The whiles that I with sacred horror sing
Your glorie, fairest of all earthly thing!

The same yet vaunting Greece will tell the storie
Ot loves great Image in Olympus placed;
Mansolus worke will be the Carians glorie;
And Crete will boast the Labyrinth, now raced;
The antique Rhodian will likewise set forth
The great Colosse, erect to Memorie;
And what els in the world is of like worth,
Some greater learned wit will magnifie.
But I will sing above all moniments

Seven Romane Hils, the worlds Seven Wonder ments.

Tam'd all the world, hath tam'd herselfe at last; The pray of Time, which all things doth de

vowre!

Rome now of Rome is th' onely funerall,
And onely Rome of Rome hath victorie;
Ne ought save Tyber hastning to his fall
Remaines of all: O worlds inconstancie!

That which is firme doth flit and fall away,
And that is flitting doth abide and stay.

IV.

She, whose high top above the starres did sore,
One foote on Thetis, th' other on the Morning,
One hand on Scythia, th' other on the More
Both heaven and earth in rounduesse compassing;
Iove fearing, least if she should greater growe,
The Giants old should once againe uprise,
Her whelm'd with hills, these Seven Hils, which
be nowe

Tombes of her greatnes which did threate the skies:
Upon her head he heapt Mount Saturnal,
Upon her bellie th' antique Palatine,
Upon her stomacke laid Mount Quirinal,
On her left hand the noysome Esquiline,

And Cælian on the right; but both her feete
Mount Viminal and Aventine doo meete.

Who lists to see, what ever nature, arte,

And heaven, could doo; O Rome, thee let him see,
In case thy greatnes he can gesse in harte,
By that which but the picture is of thee!
Rome is no more: but, if the shade of Rome
May of the bodie yeeld a seeming sight,
It's like a corse drawne forth out of the tombe
By magicke skill out of eternall night:
The corpes of Rome in ashes is entombed,
And her great spirite, reioyned to the spirite
Of this great masse, is in the same enwombed;
But her brave writings, which her famous merite
In spight of Time out of the dust doth reare,
Doo make her Idole through the world appeare.

VI.

Such as the Berecynthian Goddesse bright,
In her swifte charret with high turrets crownde,
Proud that so manie gods she brought to light;
Such was this Citie in her good daies fownd:
This Citie, more than that great Phrygian mother
Renowm'd for fruite of famous progenie,
Whose greatnes by the greatnes of none other,
But by her selfe, her equall match could see:
Rome onely might to Rome compared bee,
And onely Rome could make great Rome to
tremble:

So did the gods by heavenly doome decree,
That other earthlie power should not resemble

Her that did match the whole earths puisaunce,
And did her courage to the heavens advaunce.

VII.

Ye sacred ruines, and ye tragick sights,
Which onely doo the name of Rome retaine,
Olde moniments, which of so famous sprights
The honour yet in ashes doo maintaine;
Triumphant arcks, spyres, neighbours to the skie;
That you to see doth th' heaven it selfe appall;
Alas, by little ye to nothing flie,

The peoples fable, and the spoyle of all!

And though your frames do for a time make warre

Through armes and vassals Rome the world subdu'd,

That one would weene that one sole Cities strength
Both land and sea in roundnes had survew'd,
To be the measure of her bredth and length:
This peoples vertue yet so fruitfull was
Of vertuous nephewes, that posteritie,
Striving in power their grandfathers to passe,
The lowest earth iom'd to the heaven hie;
To th' end that, having all parts in their power,
Nought from the Romane Empire might be quight;
And that though Time doth Commonwealths ¦
devowre,

Yet no time should so low embase their hight,
That her head earth'd in her foundations deep
Should not her name and endles honour keep

IX.

Ye cruell starres, and eke ye gods unkinde,
Heaven envious, and bitter stepdame Nature!
Be it by fortune, or by course of kinde,
That ye doo weld th' affaires of earthlie creature:
Why have your hands long sithence traveiled
To frame this world, that doth endure so long!
Or why were not these Romane palaces
Made of some matter no lesse firme and strong!
I say not, as the common voyce doth say,
That all things which beneath the Moone have
Are temporall, and subiect to decay: [being
But I say rather, though not all agreeing

With some that weene the contrarie in thought,
That all this Whole shall one day come to nought.

X.

As that brave sonne of Aeson, which by charmes
Atcheiv'd the Golden Fleece in Colchid land,
Out of the earth engendred men of armes
Of dragons teeth, sowne in the sacred sand;
So this brave Towne, that in her youthlie daies
An hydra was of warriours glorious,
Did fill with her renowned nurslings praise
The firie sunnes both one and other hous:
But they at last, there being then not living
An Hercules so ranke seed to represse,
Emongst themselves with cruell furie striving,
Mow'd downe themselves with slaughter merci-
lesse;

Renewing in themselves that rage unkinde, Which whilom did those earthborn brethren blinde.

Nor the swift furie of the flames aspiring,
Nor the deep wounds of victours raging blade,
Nor ruthlesse spoyle of souldiers blood-desiring,
The which so oft thee, Rome, their conquest made;
Ne stroke on stroke of fortune variable,
Ne rust of age hating continuance,

Nor wrath of gods, nor spight of men unstable,
Nor thou oppos'd against thine owne puissance;
Nor th' horrible uprore of windes high blowing,
Nor swelling streames of that god snakie-paced,
Which hath so often with his overflowing
Thee drenched, have thy pride so much abaced;
But that this nothing, which they have thee left,
Makes the world wonder what they from thee
reft.

XIV.

As men in Summer fearles passe the foord,
Which is in Winter lord of all the plaine,
And with his tumbling streames doth beare aboord
The ploughmans hope and shepheards labour
vaine :

And as the coward beasts use to despise
The noble Lion after his lives end,
Whetting their teeth, and with vaine foolhardise
Daring the foe that cannot him defend :
And as at Troy most dastards of the Greekes
Did brave about the corpes of Hector colde:
So those, which whilome wont with pallid cheekes
The Romane triumphs glorie to behold,

Now on these ashie tombes shew boldnesse vaine,

And, conquer'd, dare the Conquerour disdaine.

XV.

Ye pallid spirits, and ye ashie ghoasts,
Which, ioying in the brightnes of your day, [boasts
Brought foorth those signes of your presumptuous
Which now their dusty reliques do bewray;
Tell me, ye spirits! (sith the darksome river
Of Styx, not passable to soules returning,
Enclosing you in thrice three wards for ever,
Don not restraine your images still mourning,)

XIV. 3.- aboord] From the bank. Fr. bari. Toud.

Tell me then, (for perhaps some one of you
Yet here above him secretly doth hide,)
Doo ye not fecle your torments to acerewe,
When ye sometimes behold the ruin'd pride [hands,
Of these old Romane works, built with your
Now to become nought els but heaped sands!

XVI.

Like as ye see the wrathfull sea from farre
In a great mountaine heap't with hideous noyse,
Eftsoones of thousand billowes shouldred narre,
Against a rocke to breake with dreadfull poyse:
Like as ye see fell Boreas with sharpe blast
Tossing huge tempests through the troubled skie,
Eftsoones having his wide wings spent in wast,
To stop his wearie cáriere suddenly:
And as ye see huge flames spred diverslie,
Gathered in one up to the heavens to spyre,
Eftsoones consum'd to fall downe feebily:
So whilom did this Monarchie aspyre

As waves, as winde, as fire, spred over all,
Till it by fatall doome adowne did fall.

XVII.

So long as Ioves great bird did make his flight,
Bearing the fire with which heaven doth us fray,
Heaven had not feare of that presumptuous might,
With which the Giaunts did the gods assay.
But all so soone, as scortching sunne had brent
His wings which wont the earth to overspredd,
The Earth out of her massie wombe forth sent
That antique horror, which made heaven adredd.
Then was the Germane Raven in disguise
That Romane Eagle scene to cleave asunder,
And towards heaven freshly to arise

Out of these mountaines, now consum'd to pouder; In which the foule, that serves to beare the lightning,

Is now no more seen flying, nor alighting.

XVIII.

These heapes of stones, these old wals, which ye sce,
Were first enclosures but of salvage soyle;
And these brave pallaces, which maystred bee
Of Time, were shephcards cottages somewhile.
Then tooke the shepheards kingly ornament [steele:
And the stout hynde arm'd his right hand with
Eftsoones their rule of yearely Presidents
Grew great, and sixe months greater a great deele;
Which, made perpetuall, rose to so great might,
That thence th' Imperiall Eagle rooting tooke,
Till th' heaven it selfe, opposing gainst her might,
Her power to Peters successor betooke;

Who, shepheardlike, (as fates the same foreseeing,)

Doth shew that all things turne to their first being.

No otherwise than raynie cloud, first fed
With earthly vapours gathered in the ayre,
Eftsoones in compas arch't, to steepe his hed,
Doth plonge himselfe in Tethys bosome faire;
And, mounting up againe from whence he came,
With his great bellie spreds the dimmed world,
Till at the last, dissolving his moist frame,
In raine, or snowe, or haile, he forth is horld;
This Citie, which was first but shepheards shade,
Uprising by degrees, grewe to such height,
That Queene of land and sea her selfe she made.
At last, not able to beare so great weight, [vade;
Her power, disperst, through all the world did
To shew that all in th' end to nought shall fade.

XXI.

The same, which Pyrrhus and the puissaunce
Of Afrike could not tame, that same brave Citie,
Which, with stout courage arm'd against mis-
Sustein'd the shocke of common enmitie; [chaunce,
Long as her ship, tost with so manie freakes,
Had all the world in armes against her bent,
Was never seene, that anie fortunes wreakes
Could breake her course begun with brave intent.
But, when the obiect of her vertue failed,
Her power it selfe against it selfe did arme;
As he that having long in tempest sailed,
Faine would arrive, but cannot for the storme,
If too great winde against the port him drive,
Doth in the port it selfe his vessell rive.

XXII.

When that brave honour of the Latine name,
Which mear'd her rule with Africa, and Byze,
With Thames inhabitants of noble fame,
And they which see the dawning day arize;
Her nourslings did with mutinous uprore
Harten against her selfe, her conquer'd spoile,
Which she had wonne from all the world afore,
Of all the world was spoyl'd within a while:
So, when the compast course of the universe
In sixe and thirtie thousand yeares is ronne,
The bands of th' elements shall backe reverse
To their first discord, and be quite undonne:

The seedes, of which all things at first were bred,
Shall in great Chaos wombe againe be hid.

Soone growes through humours superfluitie. That came to passe, when, swolne with plentis pride,

Nor prince, nor peere, nor kin, they would abide.

XXIV.

If the blinde Furie, which warres breedeth oft,
Wonts not t' enrage the hearts of equall beasts,
Whether they fare on foote, or flie aloft,
Or armed be with clawes, or scalie creasts;
What fell Erynnis, with hot burning tongs,
Did grype your hearts with noysome rage imbew'd,
That, each to other working cruell wrongs,
Your blades in your owne bowels you embrew'd ?
Was this (ye Romanes) your hard destinie?
Or some old sinne, whose unappeased guilt
Powr'd vengeance forth on you eternallie ?
Or brothers blood, the which at first was spilt
Upon your walls, that God might not endure
Upon the same to set foundation sure?

XXV.

O that I had the Thracian Poets harpe,
For to awake out of th' infernall shade
Those antique Cæsars, sleeping long in darke,
The which this auncient Citie whilome made!
Or that I had Amphions instrument,
To quicken, with his vitall notes accord,
The stonie ioynts of these old walls now rent,
By which th' Ausonian light might be restor❜d!
Or that at least I could, with pencill fine,
Fashion the pourtraicts of these palacis,
By paterne of great Virgils spirit divine!
I would assay with that which in me is,
To builde, with levell of my loftie style,
That which no hands can evermore compyle.

[hie

Thou that at Rome astonisht dost behold
The antique pride, which menaced the skie,
These haughtie heapes, these palaces of olde,
These wals, these arcks, these baths, these temples
Iudge, by these ample Ruines vew, the rest
The which iniurious Time hath quite outworne,
Since of all workmen helde in reckning best;
Yet these olde fragments are for paternes borne:
Then also marke, how Rome, from day to day,
Repayring her decayed fashion,

Renewes herselfe with buildings rich and gay;
That one would iudge, that the Romaine Dæmon

XXVII. 12. — the Romaine Dæmon Demon is Platonick. T. WARTON.