Chapter 3

The large-commanding Thracians wee Have fear'd. More large command hath hee, Who all alone himselfe retyres, And keepes sure guard o're his desires. Thy unwarlike breast, with shield of proofe Forbeare to fortifie; throw off From thy unpractic'd sides the shirt Of Mayle, so hard about thee girt. Let not the Quiver and the bow Such homage to thy soft neck doe.

An Cimber, an te lectus ab ultimis Pictus Britannis ambiat, an Geta, Nil allabores; ipse miles, Ipse tibi pugil, ipse Ductor. Exile regnum, _Pausilipi_, sumus: Sed se obsequentem qui sibi subdidit, Hic grande fecit, si suasmet Ipse roget peragatque leges.

Whether't bee _Dane_, or _Pict_, ta'ne out From farthest _Brittaine_, hems th'about Or _Goth_, ne're labour much to know Thine owne Commander, Champion too. Wee are--'tis true a kingdome small; But, _Pausilipius_, hee that shall His flatt'ring selfe, t' himselfe subdue, A businesse great doth undergoe; If his owne lawes hee can perswade, And doth performe them being made,

Armata Regem non faciet cohors, Non tincta vulgi purpura sanguine, Aut nobili stellatus auro Frontis apex, teretique gemma. Rex est, profanos qui domuit metus: Qui cum stat unus, castra sibi facit; Casumq; fortunamque pulchro Provocat assiduus duello.

An host, makes no Kings title good, Nor Robes deepe dy'd in peoples blood. A high brow set with starrs of gold, Or Jems more glorious to behold. Hee who hath tam'd all coward feares, And his owne Guard himselfe prepares, Who practic'd, in faire combate, first Dares Chance and Fortune do their worst;

Non ille vultum fingit ad improbi Decreta vulgi, non popularia Theatra, non illum trophaea, Non volucri movet aura plausu. Beatus, a quo non humilem gravis Fortuna vocem, non tumidam levis Expressit umquam curiosis Dum tacitus premit ora fatis.

That man's a King. Hee doth not faine His lookes to th' votes o'th' vulgar straine, The popular stage, and publike showes Ne're moves him, nor the ayre that blowes With swift applause; Hee's blest whose sprite Fall Fortune sad, or fall she light, Hath ne're exprest, to th'standers by, A low complaint, or haughty cry; But, lest the curious Fates displease-- Hee should, holds modestly his peace.

Ad prima si quis vulnera non gemit, Solo peregit bella silentio: Celare qui novit sinistros, Ille potest bene ferre casus. Ille, & caducis se licet undi; Suspendat auris pontus, & in caput Unius & flammas, & undam, & Vertat agens maria omnia Auster, Rerum ruinas, mentis ab ardua Sublimis aula, non sine gaudio Spectabit, & late ruenti Subjiciens sua collo caelo

At's first wounds, who nor grones, nor quakes, A Conquest with his silence makes: Hee that mischance knowes how to hide, The worst of ills, can best abide. Hee, though the Sea should every where Hang up its waves i'th' flitting ayre; And the rough winds on him, should presse Flames mix'd with billowes, nay whole Seas, From the high Court of's lofty mind I'th' midst o'th' ruine, sport can find; Sets to his neck to th' falling skye,

Mundum decoro vulnere fulciet; Interq; caeli fragmina, lugubre Telluris insistet sepulchrum, ac Incolumis morientis aevi Heres, ab alto prospiciet, magis Haec magnae quam sint quae pedibus premit, Quam quae relinquet; jam tum Olympi Non dubius moriturus hospes.

And props the world most valiantly: To the now gasping Age safe heyre, Leans on the Earth's sad sepulchre, Whence, 'midst the fragments of the skye, Hee sees most clearly from on hye, How much more great those things appeare, Hee treads on, then indeed they are, Being then prepar'd, and ready drest To dye _Olympus_ certaine guest.

Quo cum volentem fata reduxerint, Nil interest, an morbus, an hosticus Impellat ensis, quo supremum Urget itur. Semel advehemur Quam navigamus semper in insulam Seu lata magnis stravimus aequora Regis carinis; seu Quirites, Exigua vehimur phaselo. Illo beatum margine me meus Exponat asser. Cur ego sistere Aeterno reformidens quietus Littore, si peritura linquam?

Where, when by th' Fates hee's gladly brought, Whether disease, it matter's not, Or enemies sword, doth thrust him on, When his last journey he must run. To th' Port wee are but once brought in To which w'have alwayes sayling bin: Whether, as mighty Princes, wee In gallant ships have spread the Sea; Or, as the common sort of men, In smaller Barks, have carryed been. May my poore bottome to that brinke Mee happy bring; why should I shrinke-- Safe on th'Aeternall shore to stand, If with such trash I can shake hand?

_Ad Q. Delliam._

Non tam populari exemplo, quam potius rationis ductu vitam esse instituendam.

_Ode 10. Lib. 4._

To Q. Dellius.

_That our life ought not to bee instituted so much by popular example, as by the guiding of reason._

_Ode 10. Lib. 4._

Delli, si populo duce Vita degenerem carpimus orbitam, Erramus, procul arduis Virtus se nimium seposuit jugis. Illuc quo via tritior, Hoc est certa minus. Longus inutili Error nectitur ordine: Et mores populum, non ratio trahit.

Wee erre (my _Dellius_) if wee take That baser path of life, the people make; In highest and remotest Hills Vertue sequesters up her selfe, and dwells. There where the way more beaten lyes, Lesse certaine, and more slipp'ry alwayes 'tis. From fruitlesse order, errours grow; Custome, not reason, drawes the people now.

Casu vivitur, & viam Non metam premimus, qua praeeuntium Per vestigia civium Insanae strepitus plebis, & improbae Voces invidiae vocant. Exemplis trahimur & trahimus retro, Soli nemo sibi est malus, Nulli vita sua est: dum vaga postero Tubam turba premit gradu, Sunt primi exitio saepe sequentibus.

Men live by Chance, our time we spend I'th' way, like Truants, and forget the end, Where 'mid'st the throng of passers by, The noyse of the mad rout, the hatefull cry Of envy, calls, wee're drawne amaine B'example; others wee draw back againe; No man is ill to himselfe alone, Nor no mans life is onely call'd his owne. Whil'st that the rambling rout treads o're With after steps, the heeles of them before, They that goe formost are design'd A mischiefe oft to those that come behind.

Me Parnassus & integer Plebeiis Helicon caetibus eripit Sublimem; unde vagantium Errores animorum, & male desidis Vulgi damna patent. juvat Ex alto intrepidum colle jacentia Despectare pericula, & Cantum non propriis vivere casibus.

_Pernassus_, and chaste _Helicon_ Sublimes and takes mee from the vulgar throng: From whence, the false mistakes I view And wandring mindes of the too slothfull crew; And from on hye I fearelesse see, With sport, the dangers that below me lye; Thus warily with joy I live, And by, other mens mischances I can thrive.

_Ad Sigismundum Laetum._

Gloriae inanis despicientiam & silentium commendat.

Ode 11. l. 4.

To Sigismundus Laetus.

_Hee Commends the despising of vaine-glory, and silence._

Od. 11. Lib. 4.

Laete, quid cassis sequimur fugacem Gloriam telis? fugit illa Mauri More, vel Parthi, regeritque ab ipso Vulnera tergo. Hospes unius negat esse tecti Garrulus vulgi favor: hic inani Aure rumores legit, inde veris Falsa remiscet.

Why fleeting glory follow wee, _Laetus_, with weapons all in vaine? When like a Moore, or Parthian, shee Flyes at her backe with wounded Trayne. The Talking-peoples love, denyes Under one roofe a guest to fix: With's empty care, one takes up lyes, And them with truths, doth subt'ly mix,

Hic velut nidum positurus haesit, Mox ubi vano vacuum tumultu Pectus illusit, tacitis in altum Subsilit alis, Vera laus sciri fugit. ipse pulcher Se sua Titan prohibet videri Luce: qui totus potuit latere, Major habetur.

Another sticks, and thinkes to build His nest: but when he plainly sees His empty breast with noise beguild, Aloft with silent wings, hee flees. True praise would not be knowne; the Sun Forbids from being seen below By his own light: and hee that can Ecclipse himselfe, doth brighter show.

Qui premit sacram taciturnitate Pectoris gazam; bene non silenti Tutus in vulgo bene suspicaci Regnat in aula. Praeterit mutas bene cymba ripas; Quae simul raucis strepuere saxis, In latus cautam sapiens memento Avertere proram.

Hee that in silence, of his mind The sacred Treasury containes; Safety i'th' vulgar noyse doth find: In's doubtfull Court, and wisely raignes. Still banks thy Pinnace well may passe. But when with hoarse rocks they do roare, Remember wisely to forecast And turn't aside with wary Oare.

_Ad Ianum Libinium._

Solitudinem suam excusat.

_Ode 12. Lib 4._

To Ianus Libinius.

_Hee excuses his retyrednesse._

_Ode 12. Lib. 4._

Quid me latentem sub tenui lare Dudum moretur, cum mihi civium Amica certatim patescant Atria, saepe rogas _Libini_. Me plenus, extra quid cupiam? meo In memet ipsum clausus ab ostio, In se recedentis reviso Scenam animi vacuumq; relustro Vitae theatrum, sollicitus mei Spectator, an quae fabula prodii Matura procedam, & supremo Numinis excipienda plausu. Omnes recenset numen, & approbat Vel culpat actus: quo mea judice Si scena non leve peracta est, Sim populo sine teste felix.

What 'tis detaines me here, and why-- I hide my selfe from every eye. How in so poore a house I spend My houres, y'have often ask'd me, friend; When the free Courts of free-borne men, Fall out, which first shall let me in. I enjoy my selfe, what need I more? Of every sense I lock the dore; And close shut up, a taske I find In the retyring house o'th' mind: The Theatre of my life I view My owne spectator and iudge too-- Whether the tale I first begun In well digested Acts I'ue spun; In every scene, if every clause Goes neatly off, with heav'ns applause: Each Action scan'd, is there set free Or sentenc'd by authoritie-- If there, with _well Done_ I escape, I'me blest without the peoples clap.

Odi loquacis compita gloriae Plebeia: quam cum fama faventibus Evexit auris, saepe misso Invidiae stimulata telo, Aut invidentum territa vocibus, Parum obstinatis & male fortibus Dimittit alis. Illa nudam Plangit humum, lacerosq; saxis Affligit artus. Me melius tegat Privata virtus, & popularia Numquam volaturum per ora Celet iners sine laude tectum. Semota laudem si meruit, vetat Audire virtus. tutius invidi Longinqua miramur: propinquis Laevus amat comes ire Livor.

I hate the common road of praise, Or what the gaping vulgar raise, Which with a pleasant gale a while Fame hurries, but doth soone beguile: Now Envie's sting it feeles, ere long Th'Artillery of some spightfull tongue: Thus chac'd, with weak'ned wings it dyes; Or torne, on the bare ground it lyes. A private fame, a meane house, where I live conceal'd from popular ayre, Best fits my mind, and shelters me: Vertue t'her owne praise deafe should be. Our emulation, things a farre off command, But Envy haunts things that are neere at hand.

_Ad Caesarem Pausilippium._

Adversa constanti animo ferenda esse.

_Ode 13. Lib. 4._

Si quae flent mala lugubres Auferrent oculi, Sidoniisego Mercarer bene lacrymas Gemmis, aut teretum merce monilium, At ceu rore seges viret, Sic crescunt riguis tristia fletibus. Urget lacryma lacrymam; Fecundusq; sui se numerat Dolor. Quem fortuna semel virum Udo degenerem lumine viderit, Illum saepe ferit; mala Terrentur tacito fatae silentio. Ne te, ne tua fleveris Quae tu, care, vocas, _Pausilipi_, mala, Quam pellunt lacrymae, fovent Sortem: dura negant cedere mollibus. Siccas si videat genas, Durae cedet hebes sors patientiae.

To Caesar Pausilippius.

_That adversity is to bee endured with a constant mind._

Ode 13. l. 4.

If mournfull eyes could but prevent The evils they so much lament Sidonian Pearles, or Gems more rare, Would be too cheap for ev'ry teare. But moyst'ned woes grow fresh, and new, As Come besprinkled with the dew. Teare followes teare, and fruitfull griefe Hath from it selfe, its owne reliefe. The man whom Fortune doth espy With drooping spirit, and moyst'ned eye, Shee, often strikes; ill Fate, amaine Runs Scarr'd no notice being ta'ne. Bewayle not then thy selfe, deare friend, Or evills that on thee attend; What they expell, teares cherish oft; Hard things deny to yeild to soft. Mischance is conquered, when she spies A valiant patience with dry eyes.

_Ad Crispum Laevinium._

Rogatus cur saepe per viam caneret, respondet.

_Ode 44. Lib 4._

To Crispus Laevinius.

_Being asked why hee sung so often as hee travailed, hee answers._

_Ode 44. Lib. 4._

Cum meam nullis humeros onustus Sarcinis tecum patriam reviso Laetus, & parvo mihi cumque dives Canto viator. Tu siles moestum: tibi cura Musas Demit, & multi grave pondus auri. Quaeque te quondam male fida rerum Turba relinquet. Dives est qui nil habet; illa tantum Quae potest certa retinere dextra, Seque fert secum vaga quo, migrare Jussit egestas.

As cheerefully I walke with thee, My shoulders from all burdens free. Our native soyle again to see Rich to my selfe I sing, Whil'st care strikes thee, and thy Muse dumb, The heavy weight of thy vast summe, Or what estate in time to come The faithlesse rout may bring. Hee's rich that nothing hath; Hee that In's certaine hand holds his estate, That makes himselfe his constant mate Where need commands him go;

Quid mihi, qui nil cupiam, deesse Possit? umbro si placet una _Pindi_ Vallis: o sacrum nemus, o jocosa Rura Camoena! Quae meos poscet via cunq; gressus, Delphici mecum, mea regna, colles Itis, & fessum comitante circum- Sistitis umbra. Me Gothus saevis religet catenis, Me Scythes captum rapiat; soluta Mente, vobiscum potero tremendos Visere Reges.

What can I want, that nought desire? Then _Pindus_ vale, I reach no higher: O sacred Grove! O pleasant quire In those coole shades below! What paths soe're my steps invite Ye Delphian hills, my sole delight Doe goe with mee; in weary plight, And veyle me with good grace. Let th'_Goth_ his strongest chaines prepare, The _Scythian_ hence mee captive teare, My mind being free with you, I'le stare The Tyrants in the face.

_Ad Munatium._

Nihil in rebus humanis non taedio plenum esse.

_Ode 15. Lib. 4._

To Munatius.

_That nothing in humane affaires is not full of tediousnesse._

Ode 15. l. 4.

Nil est, _Munati_, nil, iterum canam, Mortale, nil est, immedicabilis Immune taedi. Clarus olim Sol proavis atavisque nobis, Parum salubris, nec macula reus Damnatur una; quicquid in arduo Immortale mortales _Olympo_ Vidimus, invidiae caduca Fuscamus umbra. non placet incolis Qui Sol avitis exoritur jugis; Aut prisca quae dudum paternam Luna ferit radiis fenestram.

Nothing _Munatius_, nothing I sing't againe, That's mortall, nothing from th'uncured paine Of tediousnesse is free. The Sun Which bright to our forefathers shone To us, but little healthfull, doth appeare, And though not guilty of one spott, not cleare: Whatsoe're immortall thing we see In high _Olympus_, silly wee Doe over-cast with Envy's shade; here one From his owne native Hills the rising Sun. Disclaimes; or th'ancient Moone, that strikes Her beames through's fathers glasse, dislikes.

Caelo quotannis, & patriis leves Migramus arvis; hunc tepidae vocant Brumae Batavorum, huic aprici Ausoniae placuere soles. Frustra; fideles si dominum retro Morbi sequuntur, nec tacitus Dolor Absistit, aut Veiente curru, Aut Veneta comes ire cymba.

Each yeare we change our ayre, and soyle, so light; Him, _Hollands_ warmer Climate doth invite: Another differs, and doth cry _Ausonia_'s clearer Suns please mee. In vaine all this, if faithfull sicknesses Wait close behind; if secret griefes ne're cease, All's one, whether in Chariot Thou goest, or in Venetian boat.

Tandemque nobis exulibus placent Relicta; certam cui posuit domum Virtus, huic nunquam paternae Fumus erit lacrymosus aulae. Virtus agresti dives in otio Sese ipsa claudit finibus in suis Plerumque, & insonti quietum In palea solium reclinat.

Poore exiles! then, things left doe please us most, Who a sure building can from vertue boast, To him the smoke of's father's Hall Doth never hurt his eyes at all. Vertue oft-times, rich in a rustick ease Confines her selfe to her owne private blisse; And in the guiltlesse straw, her throne With great delight can leane upon.

Ad Iesum Opt. Max.

Ex sacro Salomonis Epithalamio.

_Indica mihi quem diligit anima mea, ubi pascas, ubi cubes in meridie._

Ode 19. Lib. 4.

Dicebas abiens: Sponsa vale; simul Vicisti liquidis nubila passibus. Longam ducis, Jesu, In desideriis moram. Ardet iam medio summa dies polo, Jam parcit segeti messor, & algidas Pastor cum grege valleis, Et picta volucres petunt. At te quae tacitis destinet otiis O Jesu regio? quis mihi te locus Caecis invidet umbris, Aut spissa nemorum coma? Scirem quo jaceas cespite languidus, Quis ventus gracili praeflet anhelitu, Quis rivus tibi grato Somnum praetereat sono; Ah! ne te nimio murmure suscitent Nostrae diluerent flumina lacrymae, Et suspiria crudis Miscerentur Etesiis.

Out of _Solomon_'s sacred Marriage Song.

CHAP. 1. 7. _Tell mee (o thou whom my soule loveth) where thou feedest, where thou makest thy flocks to rest at noone, &c._ +paraphrastikos+

Od. 19. Lib. 4.

Thou said'st, farewell my Spouse, & went'st away More fleet then Clouds with liquid paces stray: Oh what a longing, Jesu thus With thy delay thou mak'st in us? 'Tis now high noone, the scorching Sun doth burne I'th' mid'st o'th' pole, the mower spares the corne, The Shepheard, with his flocks, is glad-- And painted birds, to seeke coole shade. But Jesu! where art thou? what region's blest By holding thee so long in silent rest? What darksome shade denyes my love? Or with thick boughs what shady Grove? Knew I on what green Turfe thou dost repose Thy fainting limbs; what wind with soft breath blowes' What streame, with bubling, passing by Disturbs thy sleep, or wakens thee; Oh! lest the too much noise should raise thee, I Would let fall streams of teares should qualifie; My warmer sighes thou mix'd should'st find With the cold blasts o'th'Easterne wind.

_Ex sacro Salomonis Epithalamio._

En dilectus meus loquitur mihi: Surge, propera amica mea, columba mea, formosa mea, & veni. Iam enim hiems transiit, imber abiit & recessit. &c.

_Ode 21. Lib. 4._

Out of _Salomon_'s sacred marriage song.

_My beloved spake and said unto mee, rise up my love, my Dove, my faire one, and come away; for loe the winter is past, the raine is over and gone: the flowers appeare on the earth, the time of singing of birds is come, and the voice of the Turtle is heard in our Land. The fig tree putteth forth, &c._

_Ode 21. Lib. 4._

Fallor? an Elysii laeva de parte Sereni Me mea vita vocat! Surge soror, pulchris innectito lora columbis; Pulchrior ipsa super Scande rotas, Libaniq; levem de vertice currum, Has, age flecte domos. Ad tua decidu fugiunt vestigia nimbi, Turbidus imber abiit: Ipsa sub innocuis mitescunt fulmina plantis, Ipsa virescit hiems.

Do I mistake? or from Elyzium cleare My life's call doe I heare? Sister arise, and harnesse thy sweet paire Of Doves, thy selfe more faire; Mount and drive hither, here let thy Chariot stop, From _Libanus_ hye top; At thy approach the falling showres doe fly, Tempestuous stormes passe by, The lightning's quench'd under thy harmlesse feet, Winter turnes Spring to see't.

Interea sacris aperit se scena viretis Sub pedibusq; tibi Altera floret humus, alterq; vagantia laetus Sidera pascit ager. Hic etiam trepidi pendent e rupibus haedi, Praecipitesq; caprae; Hinnuleique suis, passim dum flumina tranant, Luxuriantur aquis.

While in the sacred Green, a bow're we see Doth spread it selfe for thee. The Earth new Turff's it selfe for thee to tread, The straying starrs fresh fields make glad. Here with their dams, of Kids th'amazed flocks Hang on steep sides of Rocks; Here as they swim, the wanton Hinds do play In the coole streames all day.

It Leo cum Pardo viridis de colle Saniri Mitis uterque regi, Cumque suo passim ludunt in montibus agno Exsuperantque juga. Plurimus hos circum tacito pede labitur amnis, Pumicibusque cavis Per violas lapsae per declives hyacinthos, Exspatiantur aquae.

The Lion with the Libard downe is l'ed Tame and well governed; Each with his Lamb about the Mountaines skip, O're Hills they lightly trip. By these a spacious brooke doth slowly glide, Which with a spreading tyde Through bending Lilyes, banks of Violets From th'hollow Pumice sweats.

Lene fluunt rivi, muscosis lene susurrus Murmurat e scopulis. In vitrio pisces saliunt hilares crystallo, Dulce queruntur aves. Nec vero, si moesta placent saletia caelo Flebile murmur abest: Nam sibi dum vestro regemunt ex orbe palumbes, Huc sonus ille venit. Sic dum se viduo solatur Carmine turtur, Gaudia nostra placent.

The rivers gently flow, and a still sound From mossie Rocks doth bound. The sporting fish dance in the christall Mayne, The Birds sweetly complaine, The ayre, if dolefull comforts please, doth ring With mournfull murmuring. For when the Doves eccho each others cry That sound doth hither fly. As they with widowed notes themselves do please, Just so, our joyes increase.