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To graze the ranker mead ; that noble herd He straight revokes his bold resolve, and more
Then to the stream, when neither friends, nor force, Gave leave to slacken and unbend his cares,
Nor speed, nor art, avail, he shapes his course; Attended to the chase by all the flow'r
Thinks not their rage so desp'rate to essay Of youth, whose hopes a nobler prey devour; An element more merciless than they. Pleasure with praise and danger they would buy, But fearless they pursue, nor can the flood And wish a foe that would not only fly.
Quench their dire thirst: alas! they thirst for The stag now conscious of his fatal growth,
blood. At once indulgent to his fear and sloth,
So t'wards a ship the oar-finn'd galleys ply, To some dark covert his retreat had made, Which wanting sea to ride, or wind to fly, Where nor man's eye, nor heaven's should invade Stands but to fall revenged on those that dare His soft repose ; when th' unexpected sound Tempt the last fury of extreme despair. Of dogs and men his wakeful ear does wound. So fares the stag; among th' enraged hounds Roused with the noise, he scarce believes his ear, Repels their force, and wounds returns for Willing to think th' illusions of his fear
By common hands; but if he can descry
Proud of the wound, to it resigns his blood,
And stains the crystal with a purple flood. Exulting, till he finds their nobler sense
This a more innocent and happy chase Their disproportion'd speed doth recompense ;
Than when of old, but in the self-same place, Then curses his conspiring feet, whose scent Fair Liberty pursued, and meant a prey Betrays that safety which their swiftness lent:
To lawless power,
here turn'd, and stood at bay; Then tries his friends ; among the baser herd,
When in that remedy all hope was placed Where he so lately was obey'd and fear'd, Which was, or should have been at least, the last. His safety seeks: the herd, unkindly wise,
Here was that Charter seal'd wherein the crown Or chases him from thence or from him flies. All marks of arbitrary power lays down ; Like a declining statesman, left forlorn
Tyrant and slave, those names of hate and fear, To his friends' pity, and pursuers' scorn,
The happier style of king and subject bear: With shame remembers, while himself was one Happy when both to the same centre move, Of the same herd, himself the same had done. When kings give liberty and subjects love. Thence to the coverts and the conscious groves,
Therefore not long in force this Charter stood; The scenes of his past triumphs and his loves, Wanting that seal, it must be seal'd in blood. Sadly surveying where he ranged alone,
The subjects arm’d, the more their princes gave, Prince of the soil, and all the herd his own, Th' advantage only took the more to crave; And like a bold knight-errant did proclaim Till kings, by giving, giye themselves away, Combat to all, and bore away the dame,
And ev’n that power that should deny betray. And taught the woods to echo to the stream “ Who gives constrain'd, but his own fear reviles, His dreadful challenge, and his clashing beam; Not thank’d, but scorn'd; nor are they gifts, but Yet faintly now declines the fatal strife,
spoils.” So much his love was dearer than his life.
Thus kings, by grasping more than they could Now ev'ry leaf, and ev'ry moving breath
hold, Presents a foe, and ev'ry foe a death.
First made their subjects by oppression bold; Wearied, forsaken, and pursued, at last
And popular sway, by forcing kings to give All safety in despair of safety placed,
More than was fit for subjects to receive, Courage he thence resumes, resolved to bear Ran to the same extremes; and one excess All their assaults, since 'tis in vain to fear. Made both, by striving to be greater, less. And now, too late, he wishes for the fight When a calm river, raised with sudden rains, That strength he wasted in ignoble flight; Or snows dissolved, o'erflows th' adjoining plains, But when he sees the eager chase renew'd,
The husbandmen with high-raised banks secure Himself by dogs, the dogs by men pursued,
Their greedy hopes, and this he can endure;
But if with bays and dams they strive to force (* Originally, our Charles.]
His channel to a new or narrow course,
Sea. We heard it too
Plot. There, friend, there is
Cyph. Sir, excuse me.
Plot. Sir, it is conscience; I do believe you might Sue me in chancery.
Cyph. Sir, you show the virtues of an heir.
Plot. Yes, sir, his transitory pelf,
Quart. I shall be glad To give thanks for you, sir, in pottle draughts, And shall love Scotch-coal for this wreck the better As long as I know fuel.
Plot. Then my poet No longer shall write catches, or thin sonnets, Nor preach in verse as if he were suborn'd By him that wrote the Whip, to pen lean acts, And so to overthrow the stage for want Of salt or wit. Nor shall he need torment Or persecute his muse ; but I will be His god of wine t’inspire him. He shall no more Converse with the five-yard butler ; who, like
thunder, Can turn beer with his voice, and roar it sour : But shall come forth a Sophocles and write Things for the buskin. Instead of Pegasus, To strike a spring with’s hoof, we'll have a steel Which shall but touch a butt, and straight shall A purer, higher, wealthier Helicon. [flow
Sale. Frank, thou shalt be my Phoebus. My next Shall be thy uncle's tragedy, or the Life (poem And Death of two Rich Merchants.
Ware. Why as we ought, sir, strangely.
Plot. This valiant captain and this man of wit First fox'd him, then transform'd him. We will
T'im. Plague take you, captain.
Bright. Mr. Timothy !
New. 'Slight, sir, here be
Tim. How's this ! my hands
Plot. We have rare news for you.
Plot. Your father,
Tim. How ?
Plot. They by this have made a meal
Bright. Fall down,
Plot. This fellow here
Cyph. "Tis too true, sir.
if I had gone with him !
[11e frigns to weep. Sea. Fie, sir! good truth, it is not manly in you, To weep for such a slight loss as a father.
Tim. I do not cry for that.
Tim. No, but to think,
Sea. I assure you,
Tim. For then might I
Plot. You'd not do
Plot. He wore
Bright. I've heard He'd make his jack go empty, to cozen neighbours.
Plot. Yes, when there was not fire enough to warın A mastich-patch t apply to his wife's temples,
In great extremity of tooth-ache. This is
Broke in estate, and then broke from the Counter, True, Mr. Timothy, is't not !
Where Mr. Seathrift laid him in the hole Tini. Yes: then linen
For debt, among the ruins of the city, To us was stranger than to Capuchins.
And trades like him blown up, take thee from dust, My flesh is of an order, with wearing shirts Give thee free education, put thee in Made of the sacks that brought o'er cochineal, My own fair way of traffic ; nay, decree Copperas, and indigo. My sister wears
To leave thee jewels, land, my whole estate, Smocks made of currant-bags.
Pardon'd thy former wildness, and couldst thou sort Sea. I'll not endure it ;
Thyself with none but idle gallants, captains, Let's show ourselves.
And poets, who must plot before they eat, Ware. Stay, hear all first.
And make each meala stratagem? Then could none New. Thy uncle was such another.
But I be subject of thy impious scoffs ? Bright. I have heard
I swoon at sight of meat ; I rise a glutton He still last left th’Exchange; and would commend From half an orange: Wretch, forgetful wretch! The wholesomeness o'th' air in Moor-fields, when 'Fore heaven I count it treason in my blood The clock struck three sometimes.
That gives thee a relation. But I'll take Plot. Surely myself,
A full revenge. Make thee my heir ! I'll first Cypher his factor, and an ancient cat,
Adopt a slave, brought from some galley ; one Did keep strict diet, had our Spanish fare, Which laws do put into the inventory, Four olives among three. My uncle would And men bequeath in wills with stools, and brassLook fat with fasting ; I ha' known him surfeit
pots ; Upon a bunch of raisins ; swoon at sight
One who shall first be household-stuff, then my heir. Of a whole joint, and rise an epicure
Or to defeat all thy large aims, I'll marry. From half an orange.
[They undisguise. Cypher, go find me Baneswright ; he shall straight Ware. Gentlemen, 'tis false.
Provide me a wife. I will not stay to let Cast off your cloud. D'you know me, sir ! My resolution cool. Be she a wench Plol. My uncle !
That every day puts on her dowry, wears Sea. And do you know me, sir ?
Her fortunes, has no portion, so she be Tim. My father!
Young and likely to be fruitful, I'll have her : Ware. Nay,
By all that's good, I will ; this afternoon ! We'll open all the plot, reveal yourself.
I will about it straight. Plot. Cypher the waterman !
Sea. I follow you.
(Ex. WARE. CYPHER. Quart. Salewit, away!
And as for you, Tim, mermaid, triton, haddock, I feel a tempest coming. (Ex. Quart. and Salewit. The wond'rous Indian fish caught near Peru, Ware. Are you struck
Who can be of both elements, your sight With a torpedo, nephew ?
Will keep you well. Here I do cast thee off, Sea. Ha' you seen too
And in thy room pronounce to make thy sister A Gorgon's head, that you stand speechless ? or My heir ; it would be most unnatural Are you a fish in earnest ?
To leave a fish on land. 'Las ! sir, one of your Bright. It begins to thunder.
Bright fins and gills must swim in seas of sack, New. We will make bold to take our leaves. Spout rich canaries up like whales in maps; Ware. What, is your captain fled ?
I know you'll not endure to see my jack
Nor fast in Paul's, you. I do hate thee now, Sea. Troth, it is not kindly done.
Worse than a tempest, quicksand, pirate, rock,
(Exeunt BRIGHT, NEW. Or fatal lake, ay, or a privy-seal. Ware. Now, Mr. Seathrift,
Go let the captain make you drunk, and let You see what mourners we had had, had we Your next change be into some ape, ('tis stale Been wreck'd in earnest. My grieved nephew here To be a fish twice) or some active baboon. Had made my cellar flow with tears, my wines And when you can find money out, betray Had charged glass-ordnance, our funerals had been What wench i' th' room has lost her maidenhead Bewail'd in pottle-draughts.
Can mount to th' king, and can do all your feats, Sea. And at our graves
If your fine chain and yellow coat come near Your nephew and my son had made a panegyric, Th’ Exchange, I'll see you ; so I leave you. And open'd all our virtues.
[Ex. Sra. Ware. Ungrateful monster!
Were there a dext'rous beam and two-pence hemp, Sea. Unnatural villain !
Never had man such cause to hang himself. Ware. Thou enemy to my blood !
Tim. I have brought myself to a fine pass too. Sea. Thou worse than parricide !
(father Into a pond to leap carps, or beget Ware. Death o' my soul! Did I, when first thy | A goodly race of pickrel.
Richard BRATHWAITE, mentioned incidentally lieutenant of the county. His latter days were by Warton as a pastoral poet, but more valuable spent near Richmond, in Yorkshire, where he as a fluent though inelegant satirist, was the son of died with a highly respectable character. To Thomas Brathwaite of Warcop, near Appleby, in the list of his pieces enumerated by Wood two Westmorland. When he had finished his educa- have been since added by Mr. Ellis and Mr. tion at both universities, his father gave him the Malone, amounting in all to nineteen, among estate of Barnside, in Westmorland, where he which are two tragi-comedies, Mercurius Britanheld a commission in the militia, and was deputy- | nicus and the Regicidium.
FROM A “STRAPPADO FOR THE DEVIL.."
But a strange ghost appear'd and forced him stay,
A man there was who had lived a merry life
The spirit, well approving what he said,
(* There is, perhaps, no work in English which illustrates more fully and amusingly the manners, occupations, and opinions of the time when it was written than Brathwaite's Strappado; but it is a strange, undigested and ill-arranged collection of poems, of various kinds and of different degrees of merit, some of them composed considerably before the rest, but few without claims to notice. The principal part consists of satires and epigrams, although the author purposely confounds the distinction between the two:
I call't an Epigram which is a Satire. He never scruples to use the plainest terms, and though he seldom inserts names, he spares neither rank nor condition.--COLLIER, Bridge. Cat. p. 32.]
(Bora, 1698. Died, 1674.]
If the memory of Milton has been outraged Arcades, presents an inspiring idea of human by Dr. Johnson's hostility, the writings of Black beatitude. burne, Hayley, and, above all, of Symmons, may When turned of thirty he went to Italy, the be deemed sufficient to have satisfied the poet's most accomplished Englishman that ever visited injured shade. The apologies for Milton have i her classical shores. The attentions that were indeed been rather full to superfluity than defec there shown to him are well known. We find tive. Dr. Johnson's triumphant regret at the
him at the same time, though a stranger and a supposed whipping of our great poet at the uni- heretic, boldly expressing his opinions within the versity, is not more amusing than the alarm of verge of the Vatican. There, also, if poetry ever his favourable biographers at the idea of admitting deigns to receive assistance from the younger it to be true. From all that has been written on art, his imagination may have derived at least the subject, it is perfectly clear that Milton congenial impressions from the frescot's of committed no offence at college which could Michael Angelo, and the pictures of Raphael ; deserve an ignominious punishment. Admitting and those impressions he may have possibly Aubrey's authority for the anecdote, and his recalled in the formation of his great poem, authority is not very high, it points out the punish when his eyes were shut upon the world, and ment not as a public infliction, but as the personal when he looked inwardly for "godlike shapes act of his tutor, who resented or imagined some and forms," unkindnesses.
In the eventful year after his return from the The youthful history of Milton, in despite of Continent, the fate of Episcopacy, which was yet this anecdote, presents him in an exaited and undecided, seemed to depend chiefly on the amiable light. His father, a man of no ordinary influence which the respective parties could attainments, and so accomplished a musician* as exercise upon the public mind, through the to rank honourably among the composers of his medium of the press, which was now set at liberty age, intended him for the ministry of the church, by the ordinance of the Long Parliament. Miland furnished him with a private tutor, who ton's strength led him foremost on his own side probably seconded his views; but the piety that of the controversy; he defended the five ministers, was early instilled into the poet's mind grew up,
whose book was entitled Smectymnuus', against with the size of his intellect, into views of religious the learning and eloquence of Bishop Hall and independence that would not have suited any Archbishop Usher, and became, in literary wardefinite ecclesiastical pale ; and if Milton had fare, the bulwark of his party. It is performing become a preacher, he must have founded a this and similar services, which Dr. Johnson calls church of his own.
Whilst a boy, the intensity Milton's va pouring away his patriotism in keeping of his studies laid the seeds of his future blind a private boarding-house ; and such are the ness; and at that period the Latin verses addressed slender performances at which that critic proposes to his father attest not only the prematurity of that we should indulge in some degree of merrihis attainments, but the endearing strength of his ment. Assuredly, if Milton wielded the pen affections.
instead of the sword, in public dispute, his enemies The few years which he spent at his father's had no reason to regard the former weapon as house, at Horton, in Buckinghamshire, after either idle or impotent in his hand. An invitation leaving the university, and before setting out ou to laugh on such an occasion, may remind us of his travels, were perhaps the happiest in his life. what Sternhold and Hopkins denominate “awful In the beautiful scenery of that spot, disinclined mirth ;" for of all topics which an enemy to to any profession by his universal capacity, and Milton's principles could select, his impotence thirst for literature, he devoted himself to study, in maintaining them is the most unpropitious to and wrote the most exquisite of his minor poems. merriment. Such a mind, in the opening prime of its genius, The most difficult passage of his life for his enjoying rural leisure and romantic walks, and biographers to comment upon with entire satisluxuriating in the production of Comus and the faction, is his continued acceptance of Cromwell's
wages after Cromwell had become a tyrant. It * Milton was early instructed in music. As a poet ho
would be uncandid to deny, that his fear of the speaks like one habituated to inspiration under its influence, and seems to have attached considerable import
return of the Stuarts, the symptoms of his havin ance to the science in his system of education,
† From the initial letters of their names.