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They meet the fire, the test, as martyrs Would,
And though opinion stamp them not, are gold.
I could say more of such, but that I fly
That never yet did friend or friendship seek,
That to speak well, think it above all sin, Of any company but that they are in, Called every night to supper in these fits, And are received for the Covey of Wits; That censure all the town and all the affairs,
And know whose ignorance is more than theirs :
Let these men have their ways, and take their times
To vent their libels and to issue rhymes,
I study other friendships, and more one
Be, or be not, to get the Valteline?
Or the States' ships sent forth be like to
So far without enquiry what the States, Brunsfield, and Mansfield, do this year, my fates
Shall carry me at call; and I'll be well, Though I do neither hear these news, nor tell
Of Spain or France; or were not pricked down one
Of the late mystery of reception;
But that's a blow by which in time I may Lose all my credit with my Christmas clay,
And animated porcelaine of the court;
I have decreed; keep it from waves and press,
Lest it be justled, cracked, made nought or less.
Live to that point I will, for which I am
And dwell as in my centre, as I can,
'Mongst which, if I have any friendships sent,
Such as are square, well-tagged, and permanent,
Not built with canvas, paper, and false lights,
As are the glorious scenes at the great sights:
And that there be no fevery heats nor colds.
And free it from all question to preserve.
Are asked to climb. First give me faith, who know
Myself a little; I will take you so,
As you have writ yourself: now stand, and then,
Sir, you are Sealed of the Tribe of BEN.
1 But for a sealing.] i.e. becoming sureties This is the town's honest man, described with for them, joining them in their bonds.
Nor their deal
Of news they get, to strew out the long meal.]
such scorn and indignation in a former page. See Epig. cxv. p. 252 a.
THE DEDICATION OF THE KING'S NEW CELLAR TO BACCHUS.
Accessit fervor capiți, numerusque
Since, BACCHUS, thou art father
Where now thou art made dweller,
For, Bacchus, thou art freër
So may the Muses follow
That when King James above here Shall feast it, thou mayst love there The causes and the guests too, And have thy tales and jests too, Thy circuits and thy rounds free, As shall the feast's fair grounds be. Be it he hold communion In great St. George's union; Or gratulates the passage Of some well wrought embassage,
1 And Charles brings home the lady.] This was written when the match with the Infanta of Spain was in agitation, and the prince was at the Spanish court.-WHAL.
This cellar was built by Inigo Jones. The
Whereby he may knit sure up
ON THE COURT PUCELL.
Does the Court Pucell then so censure me, And thinks I dare not her? let the world see. What though her chamber be the very pit, Where fight the prime cocks of the game for wit;
And that as any are strook, her breath
New in their stead, out of the candidates! What though with tribade lust she force a
And in an epicone fury can write news Equal with that which for the best news goes, As aëry, light, and as like wit as those! What though she talk, and can at once with them
Make state, religion, bawdry, all a theme; And as lip-thirsty, in each word's expense, Doth labour with the phrase more than the sense!
What though she ride two mile on holydays
To church, as others do to feasts and plays, To shew their tires, to view and to be viewed !
What though she be with velvet gowns
And spangled petticoats brought forth to th' eye,
As new rewards of her old secrecy ! What though she hath won on trust, as many do,
And that her truster fears her! must I too? I never stood for any place: my wit Thinks itself nought, though she should value it.
I am no Statesman, and much less Divine; For bawdry, 'tis her language, and not mine.
Farthest I am from the idolatry
To stuffs and laces; those my man can buy.
circumstance is worth mentioning, as it serves to corroborate what has been more than once asserted, that till the period of the appearance of Chloridia, no breach of friendship had taken place between him and our author.
And trust her I would least, that hath for
In contract twice; what can she perjure more?
Indeed her dressing some man might delight,
Her face there's none can like by candle-
Not he that should the body have, for case
The wits will leave you if they once per-
You cling to lords; and lords, if them you leave
For sermoneers: of which now one, now other,
They say you weekly invite with fits o' th' mother,
And practise for a miracle; take heed, This age will lend no faith to Darrel's deed ;1
Or if it would, the Court is the worst place Both for the mothers and the babes of grace;
For there the wicked in the chair of scorn, Will call't a bastard, when a prophet's born.2
TO THE HONOURED COUNTESS OF***,
And the right ways you take unto the right,
Is of so brave example, as he were
By all oblique degrees, that killing height
And though all praise bring nothing to your name,
Who (herein studying conscience, and not
Are in yourself rewarded; yet 'twill be
Only your time you better entertain,
For you admit no company but good,
Or your allies, you make your books your
And study them unto the noblest ends,
The same it was inspired, rich, and refined.
These graces, when the rest of ladies
Not boasted in your life, but practised true,
So are they profitable to be known:
these impostures [vol. ii. p. 263 6]. The last couplet of this poem has a singular bearing on the juggle of Joanna Southcote.
This age will lend no faith to Darrel's deed.] Many impostures of possession by evil spirits were practised about this time by Roman Catholics to delude and make converts of the [Drummond reports, in the Conversations, vulgar. The boy of Bilson is a famous instance. Several others, amongst whom is this stolen out of his pocket by a gentleman who "That piece of the Pucelle of the Court was of Darrel, are mentioned in the Devil is an drank him drousie, and given Mrs. Boulstraid; Ass. Darrel was the author of a book printed which brought him great displeasure." Donne, in 4to, 1600, intituled, A true narration of the strange and grievous vexation by the devil, of in his Elegy on the death of this lady, speaks of seven persons in Lancashire, and William her as young, beautiful, and witty, and proof Sommers of Nottingham; as perhaps he was against the sins of youth.-F. C.] equally concerned in carrying on the imposture. This book was answered by Dr. Harsnet, afterwards Archbishop of York, in a piece intituled, A discovery of the fraudulent practices of John Darrel minister. WHAL.
See the Devil is an Ass for a fuller account of
3 This is an excellent little poem. There seems to have been no occasion for suppressing the lady's name. It would not be difficult to suggest a person whom the lines would fit; but the safer way, perhaps, is to follow the poet's executors. [Most probably the Countess of Rutland.-F. C.]
ON LORD BACON'S BIRTH-DAY.
[22nd January, 1621.]
Hail, happy GENIUS of this ancient pile! How comes it all things so about thee smile ?
The fire, the wine, the men and in the midst
Thou stand'st as if some mystery thou
Pardon, I read it in thy face, the day
And so do I. This is the sixtieth year,
Son to the grave wise Keeper of the Seal,
England's high Chancellor: the destined heir,
In his soft cradle, to his father's chair: Whose even thread the Fates spin round and full,
Out of their choicest and their whitest wool. 'Tis a brave cause of joy, let it be known, For 'twere a narrow gladness, kept thine
Give me a deep-crowned bowl, that I may sing,
In raising him, the wisdom of my King.
THE POET TO THE PAINTER.2
Why, though I seem of a prodigious waist,
1 Hail, happy Genius of this ancient pile ! that was only proper to himself, in that he How comes it all things so about thee smile? seemed to me ever by his work one of the When Lord Bacon was High Chancellor of Eng- greatest men, and most worthy of admiration, land, he procured from the king York House for that had been in many ages. In his adversity the place of his residence, for which he seems to ever prayed that God would give him strength, have had an affection, as being the place of his for greatness he could not want. Neither could Í birth, and where his father had lived all the condole, in a word or syllable for him; as knowtime he possessed the high office of Lord ing no accident could do harm to virtue, but Keeper of the Great Seal. Here, in the begin- rather help to make it manifest." This, with the ning of the year 1620-21, he kept his birthday commentators' leave, is a very pretty specimen with great splendour and magnificence, which of "old Ben's flattery of kings," and "hatred of gave occasion to the compliment expressed in all merit but his own!" [Gifford omits to state the short poem above. The verse indeed, like when this eulogium was published.-F. C.] most of Jonson's, is somewhat harsh, but there 2 The Poet to the Painter.] This is an anis much good sense, and a vein of poetry to re-swer," as Jonson calls it, to the following misecommend it to our notice. The reader will rable attempt at verse, by Sir William Burlase: observe the poem implies a very beautiful fiction; the poet starting, as it were, on his entering York House, at the sight of the Genius of the place performing some mystery, which he discovers from the gaiety of his look, and takes occasion from thence to form the congratulatory compliment.-WHAL.
Nothing is more remarkable in Jonson's character than the steadiness of his friendship. It is for this reason (for I can discover no other) that Steevens and Malone insist particularly on the fickleness of his attachments! When Jonson wrote this poem, Lord Bacon was in the full tide of prosperity; the year after, misfortune overtook him; and he continued in poverty, neglect, and disgrace till his death, which took place in 1627. Yet the poet did not change his language; nor allow himself to be checked by the unpopularity of the ex-Chancellor's name, or the dread of displeasing his sovereign and patron, from bearing that generous testimony to his talents and virtues which is inserted in his Discoveries, and which concludes with these words:-"My conceit of Lord Verulam's person was never increased by his place or honour: but I have, and do reverence him for the greatness
THE PAINTER TO THE POET.
To paint thy worth, if rightly I did know it,
BEN, I would shew it.
But in this skill my unskilful pen will tire,
Then, what a painter's here! or what an eater
And he a cheater?
"Tis true, as my womb swells, so my back
And the whole lump grows round, de
formed, and droops;
But yet the Tun at Heidelberg had hoops.
But whilst you curious were to have it be
O, had I now your manner, mastery, might,
How I would draw, and take hold and de-
But you are he can paint, I can but write:
Yet when of friendship I would draw the
A lettered mind, and a large heart would place
To all posterity; I will write Burlase.
of consequence to no mortal Surely the demon of Venbeen at Walpole's elbow, this sentence.-Royal and
1 Of this distinguished nobleman, the pride tery on what was and ornament of the British Peerage, a most but themselves. interesting account is given by Lord Clarendon, geance must have with whom he stood deservedly high. "No-when he penned body but Lord Orford (says Sir E. Brydges), Noble Authors. who could decry Sir Philip Sidney" (and Lord 2 Methought I read the ancient art of Thrace, Falkland), "would have traduced a man possessed of so many qualities to engage the esteem castle was the most accomplished horseman of And saw a centaur, &c.] The Earl of Newof mankind as the Duke of Newcastle: but Lord his time: his celebrated work on the method of Orford had a tendency to depreciate the loyal- managing horses, of which a magnificent edition ists." He had a tendency to depreciate what-in folio appeared some years ago, was not pubever was great and good. Dead to every gene- lished during the poet's life. rous feeling, selfish, greedy, and sneakingly ostentatious, Walpole, in the midst of a baby-house, surrounded with a collection of childish trumpery, had the audacity to speak in this manner of a man, who, after strenuously fulfilling every duty of life, as a patriot, a soldier, and a statist, retired to his paternal seat, where he lived in the practice of a magnificent hospitality, the friend of genius, the liberal patron of worth, employing the close of an active and honourable life in innocent and elegant pursuits which might benefit many and could injure none.
"What a picture of foolish nobility was this stately poetic couple (the duke and duchess), retired to their own little domain" (it was at least as extensive as Strawberry Hill) "and intoxicating one another with circumstantial flat
As I began to wish myself a horse.] This is probably an allusion to the very pretty incident with which Sir Philip Sidney so aptly opens his Defence of Poesy. Pietro Pugliana, he says, discoursed with such fertileness and spirit on the various merits of the animal, " that if I had not been a piece of a logician before I came to him, I think he would have persuaded me to have wished myself a horse."
Away with the Cæsarian bread! At these immortal mangers Virgil fed.] Al luding to that circumstance in the life of Virgil, of his being employed in the stables of Augustus, and having his customary allowance of bread doubled, for the judgment he gave of a colt the emperor had just bought.-WHAL.