JOHPHIEL

Like a lightning from the sky, or and arrow shot by Love, Or a Bird of his let fly; Be't a Sparrow, or a Dove: With that winged hast, come I, loosed from the Sphere of Jove, To wish goodnight to your delight. In Saturn's name, the Father of my Lord! What overcharged piece of Melancholy Is this, breaks in between my wishes thus, With bombing sighs? Oh! 'tis one Hath vowed himself unto that aery order, And now is gaping for the fly they promised him. I'll mix a little with him for my sport. And thirsted after'hem! Which will not be. Ran on the score! Nay scarce the sense, And a kind of whimsy. Believe frail man, they be: And thou shalt see. Me. Here. If you Be M r . Mere-fool. Then are you The wight I seek: and S r . my name is Johphiel, Intelligence to the Sphere of Jupiter, And aery jocular spirit, employed to you From Father OVTIS. Know ye not OVTIS? Then know Nobody: The good old Hermit, that was said to dwell Here in the forest without trees, that built The Castle in the air, where all the Brothers Rhodostaurotick live. It flies with wings, And runs on wheels: where Julian de Campis Holds out the brandished blade. Rise, be not lost in wonder, But hear me, and be faithful. All the Brothers Have herd your vows, salute you, and expect you, By me, this next return. But the good Father Has been content to die for you. For you. Last Newyears day, which some give out Because it was his Birthday, and began The year of Jubilee, he would rest upon it, Being his hundred five and twentieth year: But the truth is, having observed your Genesis, He would not live, because he might leave all He had to you. Had? And office, Two, three, or four. In the upper Region: And that you'll find. The Farm of the great Customs, Through all the Ports of the Airs Intelligences; Then Constable of the Castle Rosy-cross: Which you must be, and Keeper of the Keys Of the whole Kaball, with the Seals; you shall be Principal Secretary to the Stars; Know all their signatures, and combinations, The divine rods, and consecrated roots. What not? Would you turn trees up Like the wind, To show your strength? march over heads of armies, Or points of pikes, to show your lightness? force All doors of arts, with the petarr, of your wit? Read at one view all books? speak all the languages Of several creatures? master all the learning's Were, are, or shall? or, to show your wealth, Open all treasures, hid by nature, from The rock of Diamond, to the mine of Seacoal? Sir, you shall do it. Why, by his skill, Of which he has left you the inheritance, Here in a pot: this little galley pot, Of tincture, high rose tincture. Ther's your He gives him a Rose. Order, You will have your Collar sent you, er't be long. Reach forth your hand: Nay, For that I do commend you: you must be poor With all your wealth, & learning. When ̄ you ha'made Your glasses, gardens in the depth of winter, Where you will walk invisible to Mankind, Talked with all birds & beasts in their own language, When you have penetrated hills Like air, Dived to the bottom of the Sea, Like led, And riss'againe Like cork, walked in the fire And 'twere a Salamander, passed through all The winding orbs, Like and Intelligence, Up to the Empyreum, when you have made The World your gallery, can dispatch a business In some three minutes, with the Antipodes, And in five more, negotiate the Globe over; You must be poor still. See, and command As they were all your vallets, or your foot-bois: But first you must declare, (your Greatness must, For that is now your style) what you would see, Or whom. Why you shall: Or any one beside. Think whom you please? Your thousand, Your ten thousand, to a million: All's one to me, if you could name a myriad. You've reason. I, that's it troubles us. A little for the present: For, at this time He is confuting a French Almanac, But he will straight have done, have you but patience; Or think but any other in mean time, Any hard name. Oh, in non-Latin alphabet Why, you shall see him, A fine hard name. Or him, or whom you will, As I said to you afore. Or what do you think Of Howl-glass, in stead of him? OF, but Vlen-spiegle Were such a name! but you shall have your longing. What luck is this, he should be busy to? He is weighing water, but to fill three houreglasses, And mark the day in pennyworth Like a cheese, And he has done. 'Tis strange you should name him Of all the rest! there being Jamblicus, Or Porphyry, or Proclus, any name That is not busy. Good. Plato, is framing some Idea's, Are now bespoken, at a groat a dozen, Three gross at least: And, for Pythagoras, He has rashly run himself on and employment, Of keeping Asses from a field of beans; And cannot be staved off. Yes, Archimedes! Nay, Hold your first man, a good man, Archimedes, And worthy to be seen; but he is now Inventing a rare Mousetrap with Owls wings And a Cats-foot, to catch the Mice alone: And Aesop, he is filing a Fox tongue, For a new fable he has made of Court; But you shall see them all, stay but your time And ask in season; Things asked out of season A man denies himself. At such a time As Christmas, when disguising is of foot, To ask of the inventions, and the men, The wits, and the engines that move those Orbs! Me thinks, you should inquire now, after Skelton, Or M r . Scogan. OF a fine gentleman, and a Master of Arts, Of Henry the fourth's times, that made disguises For the Kings sons, and writ in ballad-royal Daintily well. In rhyme! fine tinkling rhyme! and flowand verse! With now & then some sense! & he was paid for't, Regarded, and rewarded: which few Poets Are now adais. Because every Dabbler In rhyme is thought the same. But you shall see him. Hold up your nose. You shall see him, Sir. Is worth them both. And with him Domine Skelton, The worshipful Poet Laureate to K. Harry And Tytire tu of those times. Advance quick Scogan, And quicker Skelton, show your crafty heads, Before this Heir of arts, this Lord of learning, This Master of all knowledge in reversion. That M r . Scogan I dare you ensure. He tells you true S r . Here's a gentleman (My pair of crafty Clerks) of that high caract, As hardly hath the age produced his Like. Who not content with the wit of his own times, Is curious to know yours, and what hath been, Note his Latitude! The question-issimus Is, should he ask a sighed now, for his life; I mean, a person, he would have restored, To memory of these times, for a Playfellow, Whither you would present him, with and Hermes, Or, with and Howl-glass? I, that were a sighed and a half, I confess, To see them come skipping in, all at a mess! And excellent sighed, if he be not too stale. But then, we can mix him with modern Vapours, The Child of Tobacco, his pipes, and his papers. Her you shall see. But credit me, That Marry Ambree (Who marched so free. To the siege of Gaunt, And death could not daunt, As the Ballad does vaunt) Were a braver wight, And a better sighed. I, that! that! that! Wee'll haue'em all, To fill the Hall. The company o'the Rosy-cross! you wigion, The company of Players. Go, you are, And will be still your self, a Mere-fool, In; And take your pot of honey here, and hogs greace, See, who has gulled you, and make one. Great King, Your pardon, if desire to please have trespassed. This fool should have been sent to Antycira, (The I'll of Ellebore, ) there to have purged, Not hoped a happy seat within your waters. Hear now the message of the Fates, and Jove, On whom those Fates depend, to you, as Neptune The great Commander of the Seas, and Isles. That point of Revolution being come When all the Fortunate Islands should be joined, MACARIA, one, and thought a Principal, That hitherto hath floated, as uncertain Where she would fix her blessings, is to night Instructed to adhere to your BRITANNIAM: That where the happy spirits live, hereafter Might be no question made, by the most curious, Since the Macarij come to do you homage, And join their cradle to your continent. Behold the Palace of Oceanus! Hail Reverend structure! Boast no more to us Thy being able, all the Gods to feast; We saw enough: when ALBION was thy guest. Now turn; and view the wonders of the deep, Where Proteus heards, & Neptune's Orkes do keep, Where all is ploughed, yet still the pastures green New ways are found, and yet no paths are seen. 'Tis time, your eyes should be refreshed at length With something new, a pat of NEPTUNE'S strength, See, yonder, his Fleet, ready to go or come, Or fetch the riches of the Ocean home, So to secure him, both in peace, and wars, Till not one ship alone, but all be stars. Where would you wish to be now? or what to see? Without the fortunate purse to bear your charges, Or wishing hat? I will but touch your temples, The corners of your eyes, and tinct the tip, The very tip of your nose, with this Collyrium And you shall see in the air all the Ideas, Spirits, and Atomes, Flies, that buz about This way, and that way, and are rather admirable, Then any way intelligible.