Lucasta [44]
miniature-pictures of the Golden Age on similar occasions to the present. Thus Carew, in his poem TO SAXHAM, says:--
"The Pheasant, Partridge, and the Lark Flew to thy house, as to the Ark. The willing Oxe of himself came Home to the slaughter with the Lamb. And every beast did thither bring Himself, to be an offering." Carew's POEMS, 1651, p. 34.
<46.6> Vice.
<46.7> We should read THEMSELVES.
A LADY WITH A FALCON ON HER FIST. TO THE HONOURABLE MY COUSIN A[NNE] L[OVELACE.]
I. This Queen of Prey (now prey to you), Fast to that pirch of ivory In silver chaines and silken clue, Hath now made full thy victory:
II. The swelling admirall of the dread Cold deepe, burnt in thy flames, oh faire! Wast not enough, but thou must lead Bound, too, the Princesse of the aire?
III. Unarm'd of wings and scaly oare, Unhappy crawler on the land, To what heav'n fly'st? div'st to what shoare, That her brave eyes do not command?
IV. Ascend the chariot of the Sun From her bright pow'r to shelter thee: Her captive (foole) outgases him; Ah, what lost wretches then are we!
V. Now, proud usurpers on the right Of sacred beauty, heare your dombe; Recant your sex, your mastry, might; Lower you cannot be or'ecome:
VI. Repent, ye er'e nam'd he or head, For y' are in falcon's monarchy, And in that just dominion bred, In which the nobler is the shee.
A PROLOGUE TO THE SCHOLARS. A COMAEDY PRESENTED AT THE WHITE FRYERS.<47.1>
A gentleman, to give us somewhat new, Hath brought up OXFORD with him to show you; Pray be not frighted--Tho the scaene and gown's The Universities, the wit's the town's; The lines each honest Englishman may speake: Yet not mistake his mother-tongue for Greeke, For stil 'twas part of his vow'd liturgie:-- From learned comedies deliver me! Wishing all those that lov'd 'em here asleepe, Promising SCHOLARS, but no SCHOLARSHIP.
You'd smile to see, how he do's vex and shake, Speakes naught; but, if the PROLOGUE do's but take, Or the first act were past the pikes once, then-- Then hopes and joys, then frowns and fears agen, Then blushes like a virgin, now to be Rob'd of his comicall virginity In presence of you all. In short, you'd say More hopes of mirth are in his looks then play.
These feares are for the noble and the wise; But if 'mongst you there are such fowle dead eyes, As can damne unaraign'd, cal law their pow'rs, Judging it sin enough that it is ours, And with the house shift their decreed desires, FAIRE still to th' BLACKE, BLACKE still to the WHITE-FRYERS;<47.2> He do's protest he wil sit down and weep Castles and pyramids . . . . . . . . . No, he wil on, Proud to be rais'd by such destruction, So far from quarr'lling with himselfe and wit, That he wil thank them for the benefit, Since finding nothing worthy of their hate, They reach him that themselves must envy at:
<47.1> This was the theatre in Salisbury Court. See Collier, H. E. D. P. iii. 289, and Halliwell's DICTIONARY OF OLD PLAYS, art. SCHOLAR. From the terms of the epilogue it seems to have been a piece occupying two hours in the performance. Judging, I presume, from the opening lines, Mr. Halliwell supposes it to have been originally acted at Gloucester Hall. Probably Mr. Halliwell is right.
<47.2> A quibble on the two adjacent theatres in Whitefriars and Blackfriars.
THE EPILOGUE.
The stubborne author of the trifle<48.1> crime, That just now cheated you of two hours' time, Presumptuous it lik't him,<48.2> began to grow Carelesse, whether it pleased you or no.
But we who ground th' excellence of a play On what the women at the dores wil say, Who judge it by the benches, and afford To take your money, ere his oath or word His SCHOLLARS school'd, sayd if he had been wise He should have wove in one two COMEDIES; The first for th' gallery, in which the throne
"The Pheasant, Partridge, and the Lark Flew to thy house, as to the Ark. The willing Oxe of himself came Home to the slaughter with the Lamb. And every beast did thither bring Himself, to be an offering." Carew's POEMS, 1651, p. 34.
<46.6> Vice.
<46.7> We should read THEMSELVES.
A LADY WITH A FALCON ON HER FIST. TO THE HONOURABLE MY COUSIN A[NNE] L[OVELACE.]
I. This Queen of Prey (now prey to you), Fast to that pirch of ivory In silver chaines and silken clue, Hath now made full thy victory:
II. The swelling admirall of the dread Cold deepe, burnt in thy flames, oh faire! Wast not enough, but thou must lead Bound, too, the Princesse of the aire?
III. Unarm'd of wings and scaly oare, Unhappy crawler on the land, To what heav'n fly'st? div'st to what shoare, That her brave eyes do not command?
IV. Ascend the chariot of the Sun From her bright pow'r to shelter thee: Her captive (foole) outgases him; Ah, what lost wretches then are we!
V. Now, proud usurpers on the right Of sacred beauty, heare your dombe; Recant your sex, your mastry, might; Lower you cannot be or'ecome:
VI. Repent, ye er'e nam'd he or head, For y' are in falcon's monarchy, And in that just dominion bred, In which the nobler is the shee.
A PROLOGUE TO THE SCHOLARS. A COMAEDY PRESENTED AT THE WHITE FRYERS.<47.1>
A gentleman, to give us somewhat new, Hath brought up OXFORD with him to show you; Pray be not frighted--Tho the scaene and gown's The Universities, the wit's the town's; The lines each honest Englishman may speake: Yet not mistake his mother-tongue for Greeke, For stil 'twas part of his vow'd liturgie:-- From learned comedies deliver me! Wishing all those that lov'd 'em here asleepe, Promising SCHOLARS, but no SCHOLARSHIP.
You'd smile to see, how he do's vex and shake, Speakes naught; but, if the PROLOGUE do's but take, Or the first act were past the pikes once, then-- Then hopes and joys, then frowns and fears agen, Then blushes like a virgin, now to be Rob'd of his comicall virginity In presence of you all. In short, you'd say More hopes of mirth are in his looks then play.
These feares are for the noble and the wise; But if 'mongst you there are such fowle dead eyes, As can damne unaraign'd, cal law their pow'rs, Judging it sin enough that it is ours, And with the house shift their decreed desires, FAIRE still to th' BLACKE, BLACKE still to the WHITE-FRYERS;<47.2> He do's protest he wil sit down and weep Castles and pyramids . . . . . . . . . No, he wil on, Proud to be rais'd by such destruction, So far from quarr'lling with himselfe and wit, That he wil thank them for the benefit, Since finding nothing worthy of their hate, They reach him that themselves must envy at:
<47.1> This was the theatre in Salisbury Court. See Collier, H. E. D. P. iii. 289, and Halliwell's DICTIONARY OF OLD PLAYS, art. SCHOLAR. From the terms of the epilogue it seems to have been a piece occupying two hours in the performance. Judging, I presume, from the opening lines, Mr. Halliwell supposes it to have been originally acted at Gloucester Hall. Probably Mr. Halliwell is right.
<47.2> A quibble on the two adjacent theatres in Whitefriars and Blackfriars.
THE EPILOGUE.
The stubborne author of the trifle<48.1> crime, That just now cheated you of two hours' time, Presumptuous it lik't him,<48.2> began to grow Carelesse, whether it pleased you or no.
But we who ground th' excellence of a play On what the women at the dores wil say, Who judge it by the benches, and afford To take your money, ere his oath or word His SCHOLLARS school'd, sayd if he had been wise He should have wove in one two COMEDIES; The first for th' gallery, in which the throne