So am I made the servant of the manie,

And laughing stocke of all that list to scorne,
Not honored nor cared for of anie;

But loath'd of losels as a thing forlorne:
Therefore I mourne and sorrow with the rest,
Untill my cause of sorrow be redrest.—
Therewith she lowdly did lament and shrike,
Pouring forth streames of teares abundantly;
And all her Sisters, with compassion like,
The breaches of her singulfs did supply.
So rested shee: and then the next in rew
Began her grievous plaint, as doth ensew.

EUTERPE.

LIKE as the dearling of the Summers pryde, Faire Philomele, when Winters stormie wrath The goodly fields, that earst so gay were dyde In colours divers, quite despoyled hath,

All comfortlesse doth hide her chearlesse head During the time of that her widowhead:

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185

191

195

All these, and all that els the Comick Stage
With seasoned wit and goodly pleasance graced, 200
By which mans life in his likest imáge
Was limned forth, are wholly now defaced;
And those sweete wits, which wont the like to frame,
Are now despizd, and made a laughing game.
And he, the man whom Nature selfe had made 205
To mock her selfe, and Truth to imitate,
With kindly counter under mimick shade,
Our pleasant Willy, ah! is dead of late:
With whom all ioy and iolly meriment
Is also deaded, and in dolour drent.

In stead thereof scoffing Scurrilitie,
And scornfull Follie with Contempt is crept,
Rolling in rymes of shameless ribaudrie
Without regard, or due Decorum kept;

Ver. 207.

210

counter] This word is interpreted, by the Author of the Supplement to Johnson's Dictionary, a trial of skill. Topr

Our pleasant groves, which planted were with
That with our musick wont so oft to ring, [paines,
And arbors sweet, in which the shepheards swaines
Were wont so oft their Pastoralls to sing,
They have cut downe, and all their pleasaunce
That now no Pastorall is to bee hard. [mard,

In stead of them, fowle goblins and shriek-owles
With fearfull howling do all places fill;
And feeble Eccho now laments, and howles,
The dreadfull accents of their outcries shrill.
So all is turned into wildernesse,
Whilest Ignorance the Muses doth oppresse.

And I, whose ioy was earst with spirit full
To teach the warbling pipe to sound aloft,
(My spirits now dismayd with sorrow dull,)
Doo mone my miserie with silence soft.
Therefore I mourne and waile incessantly,
Till please the heavens affoord me remedy.—

Therewith shee wayled with exceeding woe,
And pitious lamentation did make;
And all her Sisters, seeing her doo soe,
With equall plaints her sorrowe did partake.
So rested shee: and then the next in rew
Began her grievous plaint, as doth ensew.

TERPSICHORE.

280

285

290

295

300

315

And in our royall thrones, which lately stood
In th' hearts of men to rule them carefully,
He now hath placed his accursed brood,
By him begotten of fowle Infamy;
Blind Error, scornefull Follie, and base Spight,
Who hold by wrong that wee should have by right.

They to the vulgar sort now pipe and sing,
And make them merrie with their fooleries;
They cherelie chaunt, and rymes at randon fling,
The fruitfull spawne of their ranke fantasies;
They feede the eares of fooles with flattery,
And good men blame, and losels magnify.

All places they doo with their toyes possesse,
And raigne in liking of the multitude;
The Schooles they fill with fond new-fanglenesse,
And sway in Court with pride and rashnes rude;

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325

Mongst simple Shepheards they do boast their skill,
And say their musicke matcheth Phoebus quill. 330
The noble hearts to pleasures they allure,
And tell their Prince that learning is but vaine;
Faire Ladies loves they spot with thoughts impure,
And gentle mindes with lewd delights distaine;
Clerks they to loathly idlenes entice,
And fill their bookes with discipline of vice.

So every where they rule, and tyrannize,
For their usurped kingdomes maintenaunce,
The whiles we silly Maides, whom they dispize
And with reprochfull scorne discountenaunce,
From our owne native heritage exilde,
Walk through the world of every one revilde.

Nor anie one doth care to call us in,
Or once vouchsafeth us to entertaine,
Unlesse some one perhaps of gentle kin,
For pitties sake, compassion our paine,
And yeeld us some reliefe in this distresse ;
Yet to be so reliev'd is wretchednesse.

So wander we all carefull comfortlesse,
Yet none doth care to comfort us at all;
So seeke we helpe our sorrow to redresse,
Yet none vouchsafes to answere to our call;
Therefore we mourne and pittilesse complaine,
Because none living pittieth our paine.-

With that she wept and wofullie waymented,
That naught on earth her griefe might pacifie;
And all the rest her dolefull din augmented
With shrikes, and groanes, and grievous agonie.
So ended shee: and then the next in rew
Began her pitecus plaint, as doth ensew

ERATO.

YE gentle Spirits! breathing from above,
Where ye in Venus silver bowre were bred,
Thoughts halfe devine, full of the fire of love,
With beawtie kindled, and with pleasure fed,
Which ye now in securitie possesse,
Forgetfull of your former heavinesse ;

Now change the tenor of your ioyous layes,
With which ye use your Loves to deifie,
And blazon foorth an earthlie Beauties praise
Above the compasse of the arched skie:
Now change your praises into piteous cries,
And Eulogies turne into Elegies.

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345

35

355

360

365

370

Such as ye wont, whenas those bitter stounds
Of raging love first gan you to torment,
And launch your hearts with lamentable wounds 37
Of secret sorrow and sad languishment,
Before your Loves did take you unto grace;
Those now renew, as fitter for this place.

For I that rule, in measure moderate,
The tempest of that stormie passion,
And use to paint in rimes the troublous state
Of lovers life in likest fashion,

Am put from practise of my kindlie skill,
Banisht by those that Love with leawdnes fill.

410

For neither you nor we shall anie more
Find entertainment or in Court or Schoole:
For that, which was accounted heretofore
The learneds meede, is now lent to the foole ;
He sings of love, and maketh loving layes,
And they him heare, and they him highly prayse.-

With that she powred foorth a brackish flood
Of bitter teares, and made exceeding mone;
And all her Sisters, seeing her sad mood,
With lowd laments her answered all at one.
So ended she and then the next in rew
Began her grievous plaint, as doth ensew.

CALLIOPE.

415

420

What oddes twixt Irus and old Inachus,
Twixt best and worst, when both alike are dedd ;
If none of neither mention should make,
Nor out of dust their memories awake?

Or who would ever care to doo brave deed,
Or strive in vertue others to excell;

If none should yeeld him his deserved meed,
Due praise, that is the spur of dooing well ?
For if good were not praised more than ill,
None would choose goodnes of his owne freewill.
Therefore the Nurse of Vertue I am hight,
And golden Trompet of Eternitie,
That lowly thoughts lift up to heavens hight,
And mortall men have powre to deifie :
Bacchus and Hercules I raisd to heaven,
And Charlemaine amongst the starris 'seaven.

But now I will my golden clarion rend,
And will henceforth immortalize no more;
Sith I no more find worthie to commend
For prize of value, or for learned lore:
For noble Peeres, whom I was wont to raise,
Now onely seeke for pleasure, nought for praise.

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445

Such happines have they, that do embrace
The precepts of my heavenlie discipline;
But shame and sorrow and accursed case
Have they, that scorne the schoole of Arts divine, 526
And banish me, which do professe the skill
To make men heavenly wise through humbled will.

However yet they mee despise and spight,
I feede on sweet contentment of my thought,
And, please my selfe with mine owne selfe-delight, 525
In contemplation of things heavenlie wrought:
So, loathing earth, I looke up to the sky,
And, being driven hence, I thether fly.

530

Live she for ever, and her royall p'laces

580

Be fild with praises of divinest wits,

That her eternize with their heavenlie writs!

Thence I behold the miserie of men,
Which want the bliss that Wisedom would them
breed,

And like brute beasts doo lie in loathsome den
Of ghostly darknes, and of gastlie dreed:
For whom I mourne, and for my selfe complaine,
And for my Sisters eake whom they disdaine.-

WRONG'D, yet not daring to expresse my paine,

To you (great Lord) the causer of my care,
In clowdie teares my case I thus complaine
Unto your selfe, that onely privie are.

But if that any Edipus unware

Shall chaunce, through power of some divining spright, To reade the secrete of this riddle rare,

And know the purporte of my evill plight;
Let him rest pleased with his owne insight,
Ne further seeke to glose upon the text:
For griefe enough it is to grieved wight
To feele his fault, and not be further vext.

But what so by my selfe may not be showen, May by this Gnatts complaint be easily knowen.

We now have playde, Augustus, wantonly,
Tuning our song unto a tender Muse,
And, like a cobweb weaving slenderly,

Have onely playde: Let thus much then excuse
This Gnats small Poëme, that th' whole historie 5
Is but a iest, though envie it abuse :

But who such sports and sweet delights doth blame, Shall lighter seeme then this Gnats idle name.

11

Hereafter, when as season more secure
Shall bring forth fruit, this Muse shall speak to thee
In bigger notes, that may thy sense allure,
And for thy worth frame some fit Poesie :
The golden ofspring of Latona pure,
And ornament of great loves progenie,
Phoebus, shall be the author of my song,
Playing on ivorie harp with silver strong.

He shall inspire my verse with gentle mood
Of Poets Prince, whether he woon beside
Faire Xanthus sprincled with Chimæras blood;
Or in the woods of Astery abide ;

Or whereas mount Parnasse, the Muses brood,
Doth his broad forhead like two hornes divide,
And the sweete waves of sounding Castaly
With liquid foote doth slide downe easily.

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20

Nor how th' halfe horsy people, Centaures hight,
Fought with the bloudie Lapithaes at bord;
Nor how the East with tyranous despight
Burnt th' Attick towres, and people slew with sword;
Nor how mount Athos through exceeding might
Was digged downe; nor yron bands abord
The Pontick sea by their huge Navy cast;
My volume shall renowne, so long since past.

Nor Hellespont trampled with horses feete,
When flocking Persians did the Greeks affray: 50
But my soft Muse, as for her power more meete,
Delights (with Phoebus friendly leave) to play
An easie running verse with tender feete.
And thou, dread sacred child, to thee alway,
Let everlasting lightsome glory strive,
Through the worlds endles ages to survive.