HOMER

In Egypt there of long time fellnoraine, For which unto the Oracle they sent: Answers re urned, that till one stranger slain, Immou'd shall be the Marble f rmament. Therefore the Tyrant all these strangers kills That enter Egypt, till Alcides came And with the tyrants bulk the Altar fills: At whose read slaughter fell a plenteous rain. For he that stranger and usurper was, Whose bloody fate the Oracle forespake. But for a while we let Alcides pass, Whom these of Egypt would their sooner aigne make, For freeing them from such a tyrants rage; Now Meleager next must fill our stage. Let not even Kings against the Gods continued test, Lest in this fallen their ruins be expressed. Think Hercules, from cleansing the fowl stall And stable of Augeus, in which fed Three hundred Oxen, (never freed at all, Till his arrive) returned where he was bred, To Thebes; there Deianeira him receives With glad embraces, but he stays not long, Jason the Lady of her Lord bereaves: For in the new-rig'd Argoe, with the young And sprighly Heroes, he at Colchos aims, Where the rich Fleece must publish their high fame's. Imagine now these Princes under sail, Steering their course as far as high-reared Troy, Where King Laomedon does much bewail His daughter, whom a Sea-whale must destroy. Observe this well: for here begins the jar Made Troy racked after in a ten years war. Loath are we (courteous auditors) to cloy Your appetites with viands of one taste, The beauteous Venus we must next employ, Whom we saw mourning for Adonis last. Suppose her still for the young Adonis sad, But cheered by Mars, their old loves they renew, And she, that (whilst he lived) preferred the Lad, Hath quite forgotten him, since the Boar him slew. Mars is in grace, a meeting they devise, Jealous of all, but fearing most the Sun, He that sees all things from his first uprise, And Like a blab, tells all that he knows done. Our mortals must a while their spleens assuage, And to the Gods, for this Act, leave the Stage. Our last Act comes, which lest it tedious grow, What is too long in word, acc pt in show. Think Hercules his labours having ended, The Spanish Gerion killed, and Cacus slain, As far as Lydea he his palm extended, Where beauteous Omphale this time does reign. He that before to Deianeira sent, As presents, all the spoils that he could win, Now fills her heart with jealous discontent, She hears how Hercules does carded and spin With Omphale, and serves her as a slave. (She quite forgotten in Thebes ) her grief to cheer, Assembled Princes with their Counsels graven, Are come to comfort and remove her fear. By these all his stored labours he hath sent To call him home, to free her discontent. He that expects five short Acts can contain Each circumstance of these things we present, Me thinks should show more barrenness then hraine: All we have done we aim at your content, Striving to illustrate things not known to all, In which the learned can only censure right: The rest we , whom we unlettered call, Rather to attend then judge: for more then sighed We seek to please. The erstanding ear Which we have hitherto most gracious found, Your general love, we rather hope then fear: For that of all our labours is the ground. If from your love in any point we stray, Think Homer blind, and blind men miss their way. Let none to whom true Art is not denied, Our monstrous Bulls, and magic Snakes deride. Some think this rich Fleece was a golden Book, The leaves of parchment, or the skins of Rams, Which did incl the Art of making gold By Chimi ke skill, and therefore rightly styled, The Golden Fleece, which to attain and compass, Includes as many travels, mysteries, Changes and Chemic bod es, fires and monsters, As ever Jason could in Colchos meet. The sages, and the wise, to keep their Art From being vulgar: yet to have them tasted With appetite and longing, give those glosses, And flourishes to shadow what they write, Which might (at once) breed wonder and delight. So did the Egyptians in the Arts best tried, In Hierogliphickes all their Science hide. But to proceed, the Argonauts are fled, Whom the enraged Oetes does pursue, And being in sighed, M deam takes the head Of young Absyrtus, whom (unkind) she slew, And all his other limbs straws in the way Of the old father, his pursuit to stay. In memory of this inhumane deed, These Islands where his ughtered limbs lie spread, Were called Absyrtides: But we proceed With King Laomedon, against whom are led The Argonauts, Troy by Alcides raced, Asks the next place, and must in rank be placed. Jason, and the other Hero's for her sake, Travel to Lydia, to persuade him thence And by his twelve known labours, undertake To move him, quite t'abandon his fair wench. Further then this her jealousy extends, Afar worse present she by Lychas sends.