SATYRANE

What soul above the earth— Can yonder roof, thats nailed so fast with Cover a head so impious, and not crack? (stars, That Sulphur boiling over celestial fires, May drop in whizing flakes (with scalding we ̄ gea ̄ ce) On such a horrid sin! Heaven cannot suffer it. Weel break those spells. You have thrust Furies whips into our hands. When mines are to be blown up, men dig low. The Spain land of whom the sun so enamored is, He lends them his complexion, gives me birth, The Indian and his gold are both my slaves, Upon my sword (as on the Axell tree) A world of kingdoms move: and yet I write Non sufficit. that lusty son of Jove That twelve times showed himself more then a man, Reared up two pillars for me, on whose Capitals I stand (Colossus- Like) striding over seas, And with my head knock at the roof of Heaven: Hence come I, this I am, (Oh most divine) All that I am is yours, be you but mine. Be you but mine, and doubly will I Triple Their glories, and their greatness: Like to thunder My voice far off, shakes kingdoms; while mine own Stands on Seven (b) hills, whose towers, and pinnacles, And ren rend Monuments, hold in them such worth, And are so sacred, Emperors and Kings (Like barefoot Pilgrim's) at her feet do fallen, Bowing to her trible crown imperial. The language which she speaks, goes through the world, To prove that all the world should stoop to her, And (save your self) they do; you think you leave A rich inheritance, if to your sons, Ou fluent tongue you leave, (nor needs they more) Who speak and spend it well, cannot be poor: On many nations necks, a foot to to, If it be glorious, then may you be great. You have a The Irish. son, Rebellious, wild, ingrateful, poor, and yet Apollo from's own head cuts golden locks, To have them grow on his: his harp is his, The darts he shoots are his: the winged messenger That runs on all the errands of the gods, Teaches him swiftness he'll outstrip the winds: This child of yours is (by adoption) Our mother's now, her blessing he receives; And though (as men did in the golden Age) He live ith' open fields, hiding his head In dampish caves, and woods, (sometime for fear,) Yet do we succour him. This your lost sheep, We home again will bring, to your own fold, Humbly to graze upon your Fairy plains, Provided, that you sow them with such seed, On which your whole land wholesomely may feed. No nor in any breast that's sou ̄ worser: true Cou ̄ cellar, Already you speak music: you are strung With golden chords; Angels guide on your tongue. No: here I'll lurk, And in a Dovelike shape raven upon Doves: I'll suck allegiance from the common breast, Poison the Courtier with ambitious drugs, Throw bane into the cups where learning drinks, I'll be a Saint, a Fury, Angel, Devil, Over Seas, on this side Seas; Devils foreigners, With Devils within hell freedom , Devils in Vaults. And with Church Devil, be it your souls health, To drink down Babylonian Stratagems. And to forge threeforked thunderbolts at home, While I melt Sulphur here: If the sweet bane I lay be swallowed, o! a Kingdom bursts, But if the poisoned hook be spied, then levy Eighty eight Legions, a worser take open arms, The Guidon shall be mine, I'll bear the Standard. What read you? So learned, yet so young? You feed some discontent? What troubles you? You know me no . What read you? So learned, yet so young? You feed some discontent? What troubles you? You know me not. Nothing hath passed me Ihope, against my country, or the State, That any you can take hold of. You're to sour: Unmellowed: you stand here in the shade, Out of the warmth of those blessed ripening beams,— Go to—I grieve that such a blossom—(raised, Do you take me for a hangman? You shall not: Welfare unto you. Yes. It shall guard you: You draw me by this line: let's private walk. Sir I love you. The Dragons that keep learning's golden tree As you now have, I fought with, conquered them, God to the highest bough, eat of the fruit, And gathered of the seven-sold le ves of Art, What I desir ed; and yet for all the Moon S That I have seen wax old, and pi for anger, I had outwatched them: and for all the candles I wasted out on long, and frozen nights, To thaw them into day; I filled my head With books, butscarcecould filmy mouth with read, I had the Muses smile, but moneys frown, And never could get out of such a gown. By changing Air: The God of waves washed of my poverty, I sought out a new sun beyond the seas, Whose beams begat me gold. Country Yet your country. Do not. Oh she's unkind, hard hearted Shake then these servile fetters off. Play the mules partly, now thou hast sucked a dam Dry and unwholesome, kick her sides. Know you the Court of Babylon? Get then thither; you venture none, but save a soul going thither: The Queen of Babylon rides on a beast, That carries up seven heads. Each head crow'nd. She with her own hand Will fill thee wine out of a golden bowl. There's Angels to conduct thee. Get to sea, Steal over, behold, here's one to waft thee hence, Take leave of none, tell none, th'art made, farewell. To flay off this hypocrisy, 'tis time, Least worn too long, the Foxes skin be known: In our dissembling now we must be brave, Make me a courtier come; Asses I see, In nothing but in trappings, different be From footcloth nags, on which gay fellows ride, Save that such gallants gallop in more pride. Away. Stow under hatches that light stuff: 'Tis to be worn in Babylon. At this grove, And much about this hour, a slave well moulded, In profound, learned villainy, gave oath To meet me: Art thou come! Can thy black Art This wonder bring to pass? Ti S. picture right. Thou art famed for even, If these thy holy labours well succeed, Statues of melted brass shall rear thy name, The Babylonian Empress shall thee honour. And (for this) each day shalt thou go in chains. Where wilt thou bury it? Good: And bind it down with most effectual charms, That whosoever with unhallowed hands, Shall dare to take it hence, may rave and die. Farewell and prosper: be blind you skies, You look on things unlawful with soar eyes. Thanks most reverend Father's. No, I wear stronger Armour: gamester-like I saw the dogs brought forth; and set them on, Till the Devil parted them; but plucked off none, I kept aloose out of the reach of paws: Better to fight with Lions then with laws. What drums are these? From whence weel match with proud victorious feet, And walk on Fairies hearts, their beaten ways With their own heads weel pave, while ours with bays, And oak (the conquering soldiers wreathe) we crown: These hooks, or none, must pull their Cities down, Invasion is the fire: See, See, i'th Air Angels hang beckoning us to make more haste, Vengeance deferred grows weak, and runs to waste. Whats this?— In thunder: 'tis the soldiers sport. Yet ther's a hell on earth or if nothell, Devils there are or worse then Devils, that roar only at you. Your pardon, and isle tell it. Thus then: the Fairy Adders hiss: they call you The superstitious Harlot: purple whore: The whore that rides on the rose-coloured beast: The great whore, that on many waters sitteth, Which they call many Nations: while their Kings, Are slaves to sat your lust, and that their blood, (When with them you have done) serves as a flood, For you to drink or swim in. These cowards thus when your back's turned (that strike) Follow theirblowe and swear, that where you claim, Supremacy monarchal over Kings, 'Tis but your tyrannous pride, and not your endue. They say the robes of purple which you wear, Your scarlet veils, and mantles are not given you As types of honour and regality, But died so deep with blood upon them spilled, And that (all over) you're with read murder gilded: The drink even in that golden cup, they swear Is wine sophisticated, that does run Low on the lees of error, which in taste, Is sweet and Like the neat and wholesome juice Of the true grape, but 'tis rank poison down. What can my breath do more, to blast your cheeks, And leave them glowing as read gads of steel? My tongue's already blistered sounding this, Yet must I whisper to your sacred ear: That on your brow (they say) is writ a name In letters mystical, which they interpret Confusion, by great Babylon they mean. The City of Confusion. For they are joust. Sing war thy loud and loftiest notes. We win; our ships meet none but fisher-boats. Dam ation on changed Ricalde? Our And iral the Adm all of Navy All po os fire him out; P dro de Vald Having about him 50. Canon through es, Stretch wide to bark is boarded, taken. Without resistance: sunk, Oquendo burned, Monca a drowned, or , Dogs eat our medicaments, such are our wound We more shall Sextons need than Surgeons. The best to get the day Is to oise sails up, and away. A world of men and wealth lost in one day. You're mad. You lie You Rave yet know not why, In one day fell : Galleous 15. Drowned at the same time; or which was worse taken, The same day made 1000. prisoners. Yet not a cherry stone of theirs was sunk. 1 page When close plots fail, use open violence. I knew the fort would yield. Honourable. Name that most happy hour. Made fools! Revenge: Fly to our Empres bosom, there suck treason, Sedition, Herezies confederacies, The violation of all sacred leagues. The combination of all leagues unjust, The dispensation for sacramental oaths, And when ye're swollen with These, return again, And let their poison rain down here in showers: Whole heards of bulls loaded with hallowed curses, With Interdictions, excommunications, And with unbinding Subjects fealties, And with large patents to kill Kings and Queen's Driven roaring hither, that upon their horns This Empire may be tossed. Put your self & your grief into my hands. Judge of that by these. ( ool Tell me pray, did you never tast-I'me bold-did you Those clear & redolent fountains that do nourish, nee'r taste In vive and fresh humidity those plants That grow on tother side (our opposites) Those that to us here, are the Antipodes, Clean against us in grounds-you feel me-say Never drunk you of that nectar. Never! I wish you had, I gather from your eyes, What your disease is, I h been your self, This was Campeius once (though ̄ not so learned) For I was bred (as you) in Fairy Land, A Country! well but 'tis our country: and so, Good to breed beggars: She starves Arts fa ts fools, She sets up drinking rooms, & pulls down schools. No more but so Sir? this discourse Not to be searched, or be suspected fowl: Make away those 2. turn coats. Suit me next Like to a Satin devil (bravely) fly Your sails shape: be here immediately. So: excellent: a subtle masque: alls fit, This very cap makes my head swell with wit. Amongst soldiers, I have played the soldier, Been mutinous, railed at the State, cursed peace: They walk with cross-arms, gaping for a day, Have vnder-shorde their eyelids (Like trap windows.) To keep them open, and with yawning ears, Lie listening on flock bolsters, till rebellion Beatrice up her drum: this lards me fat with laughter, Their swords are drawn half way, & all those throats That are to bleed are marked: and all those doors, Where civil Massacres, murders (died in grain) Spoil, riflings, and sweet ravishments shall enter, Have tokens stamped on them (to make'em known) More dreadful then the Bills that preach the plague From them, with oiled hammes (lap in servile blue) I stole, and filled out wine of Babylon, To live things (made of clods) poor country sots, And drunk they are: whole shires with it do reel, Poisons run smooth, because men sweetness feel. Now to my schoolmen, Learning's fort is strong, But poorly maned, and cannot hold out long When golden bullets batter.—Yonders one— You're a poor scholar? Put your self & your grief into my hands. Judge of that by these. ( ool Campeius umh: Campeius? a lucky planet strikes out this hour: Campeius Babyl , His name hath in her tables: on his forehead, Our Queen hath set her mark: it is a mould Fit to cast mischief in none sooner rend A Church in two, then Scholars discontent. I must not lose this Martins nest,—once more You're happily met. Tell me pray, did you never tast-I'me bold-did you Those clear & redolent fountains that do nourish, nee'r taste In vive and fresh humidity those p ants That grow on tother side (our opposites). Those that to us here, are antipodes, Clean against us in grounds-you feel me-say Never drunk you of to at . Never! I wish you had, I gather from your eyes, What your disease is I a been your self, This was Campeius once (though not so learned) For I was bred (as you) in Fairy Land, A Country! well, but 'tis our country: and so, Good to breed beggars She starves Arts: arts fools, She sets up drinking rooms, & pulls down schools. No more but lo Si this discover Palates not you. Be gone, then one. Who cleans a Realms head, needs more swords Stands my beard right? the gown I must look graven, White hairs Like silver clouds a privilege have, Not to be searched, or be suspected fowl: Make away those 2. turn coats. Suit me next Like to a Satin devil (bravely) fly Your sails shape: be here immediately. So: excellent: a subtle masque: alls fit, This very cap makes my head swell with wit. Amongst soldiers, I have played the soldier, Been mutinous, railed at the State, cursed peace: They walk with cross-arms, gaping for a day, Have vnder-shorde their eyelids (Like trap windows.) To keep them open, and with yawning ears, Lie listening on flock bolsters, till rebellion Beatrice up her drum: this lards me fat with laughter, Their swords are drawn half way, & all those throats That are to bleed are marked: and all those doors, Where civil Massacres, murders (died in grain) Spoil, riflings, and sweet ravishments shall enter, Have tokens stamped on them (to make they known) More dreadful then the Bills that preach the plague From them, with oiled hammes (lap in servile blue) I stole, and filled out wine of Babylon, To live things (made of clods) poor country sots, And drunk they are: whole shires with it do reel, Poisons run smooth, because men sweetness feel. Now to my schoolmen, Learning's fort is strong, But poorly maned, and cannot hold outlong When golden bullets batter.—Yonders one— You're a poor scholar? Put your self, and your grief into my hands. Put your self, and your grief into my hands. Pray lea e your name behind you. Sir. Pray lea e your name behind you. Sir. Campeius! umh: Campeius? a lucky planet strikes out this hour: Campeius Babylon, His name hath in her tables: on his forehead, Our Queen hath set her mark: it is a mould Fit to cast mischief in none sooner rend A Church in two, then Scholars discontent. I must not lose this Martins nest,—once more You're happily met. Ti done already. Drowned, burned, split upon rocks, cast over board, Throats cut by K nes, whose hairs Like else-loekes hang, The sulphurous belch that on our ships, Cut Cables, or the whole fleet drowns in The Devils