Part 2

_Minerva_ started when she heard the noise, And dying mens confused voice. From Heaven in haste she came to see What was the mighty prodigie. Upon the Castle pinacles she sate, And dar’d not nearer fly, Nor midst so many deaths to trust her very Deity. With pitying look she saw at every gate Death and destruction wait; She wrung her hands, and call’d on _Jove_, And all th’ immortal powers above; But though a Goddess now did prey, The Heavens refus’d, and turn’d their ear away. She brought her Olive, and her Shield, Neither of these Alas! assistance yield. She lookt upon _Medusaes_ face, Was angry that she was Her self of an Immortal Race, Was angry that her Gorgons head Could not strike her as well as others dead; She sate, and wept awhile, and then away she fled.

X.

Now Death began her sword to whet, Not all the _Cyclops_ sweat, Nor _Vulcaus_ mighty Anvils could prepare Weapons enough for her, No weapon large enough but all the Air; Men felt the heat within him rage, And hop’d the Air would it asswage, Call’d for its help, but th’ Air did them deceive, And aggravate the ills it should relieve. The Air no more was Vital now, But did a mortal poyson grow; The Lungs which us’d to fann the heart, Onely now serv’d to fire each part, What should refresh, increas’d the smart, And now their very breath, The chiefest sign of life, turn’d the cause of death.

XI.

Upon the Head first the disease, As a bold Conqueror doth seize, Begins with Mans Metropolis, Secur’d the Capitol, and then it knew It could at pleasure weaker parts subdue. Blood started through each eye; The redness of that Skie, Fore-told a tempest nigh. The tongue did slow all ore With clotted Filth and Gore; As doth a Lions when some innocent prey He hath devoured and brought away: Hoarsness and sores the throat did fill, And stopt the passages of speech and life; No room was left for groans or grief; Too cruel and imperious ill! Which not content to kill, With tyrannous and dreadful pain, Dost take from men the very power to complain.

XII.

Then down it went into the breast, There are all the seats and shops of life possest, Such noisome smells from thence did come, As if the stomach were a tomb; No food would there abide, Or if it did, turn’d to the enemies side, The very meat new poysons to the Plague supply’d. Next to the heart the fires came, The heart did wonder what usurping flame, What unknown furnace should On its more natural heat intrude, Strait call’d its spirits up, but found too well, It was too late now to rebell. The tainted blood its course began, And carried death where ere it ran, That which before was Natures noblest Art, The circulation from the heart, Was most destructful now, And Nature speedier did undoe, For that the sooner did impart The poyson and the smart, The infectious blood to every distant part.

XIII.

The belly felt at last its share, And all the subtil labyrinths there Of winding bowels did new Monsters bear. Here seven dayes it rul’d and sway’d, And oftner kill’d because it death so long delay’d. But if through strength and heat of age, The body overcame its rage, The Plague departed, as the Devil doeth, When driven by prayers away he goeth. If Prayers and Heaven do him controul, And if he cannot have the soul, Himself out of the roof or window throws, And will not all his labour lose, But takes away with him part of the house: So here the vanquisht evil took from them Who conquer’d it, some part, some limb; Some lost the use of hands, or eyes, Some armes, some legs, some thighs, Some all their lives before forgot, Their mindes were but one darker blot; Those various pictures in the head, And all the numerous shapes were fled; And now the ransackt memory Languish’d in naked poverty, Had lost its mighty treasury; They past the _Lethe_ Lake, although they did not die.

XIV.

Whatever lesser Maladies men had, They all gave place and vanished; Those petty tyrants fled, And at this mighty Conqueror shrunk their head. Feavers, Agues, Palsies, Stone, Gout, Cholick, and Consumption, And all the milder Generation, By which Man-kind is by degrees undone, Quickly were rooted out and gone; Men saw themselves freed from the pain, Rejoyc’d, but all alas, in vain, ’Twas an unhappy remedie, Which cur’d him that they might both worse and sooner die.

XV.

Physicians now could nought prevail, They the first spoils to the proud Victor fall, Nor would the Plague their knowledge trust, But feared their skill, and therefore slew them first: So Tyrants when they would confirm their yoke, First make the chiefest men to feel the stroke, The chiefest and the wisest heads, least they Should soonest disobey, Should first rebell, and others learn from them the way. No aid of herbs, or juyces power, None of _Apollo’s_ art could cure, But helpt the Plague the speedier to devour. Physick it self was a disease, Physick the fatal tortures did increase, Prescriptions did the pains renew, And _Æsculapius_ to the sick did come, As afterwards to _Rome_, In form of Serpent, brought new poysons with him too.

XVI.

The streams did wonder, that so soon As they were from their Native mountains gone, They saw themselves drunk up, and fear Another _Xerxes_ Army near. Some cast into the Pit the Urn, And drink it dry at its return; Again they drew, again they drank; At first the coolness of the stream did thank, But strait the more were scorch’d, the more did burn; And drunk with water in their drinking sank: That Urn which now to quench their thirst they use, Shortly their Ashes shall inclose. Others into the Chrystal brook, With faint and wondring eyes did look, Saw what a ghastly shape themselves had took, Away they would have fled, but them their leggs forsook. Some snach’d the waters up, Their hands, their mouths the cup; They drunk, and found they flam’d the more, And onely added to the burning store. So have I seen on Lime cold water thrown, Strait all was to a Ferment grown, And hidden seeds of fire together run: The heap was calm, and temperate before, Such as the Finger could indure; But when the moistures it provoke, Did rage, did swell, did smoke, Did move, and flame, and burn, and strait to ashes broke.

XVII.

So strong the heat, so strong the torments were, They like some mighty burden bear The lightest covering of Air. All Sexes and all Ages do invade The bounds which Nature laid, The Laws of modesty which Nature made. The Virgins blush not, yet uncloath’d appear, Undress’d do run about, yet never fear. The pain and the disease did now Unwillingly reduce men to That nakedness once more, Which perfect health and innocence caus’d before. No sleep, no peace, no rest, Their wandring and affrighted minds possest; Upon their souls and eyes, Hell and Eternal horrour lies, Unusual shapes, and images, Dark pictures, and resemblances Of things to come, and of the World below, O’re their distemper’d fancies goe: Sometimes they curse, sometimes they pray unto The Gods above, the Gods beneath; Sometimes they cruelties, and fury breath, Not sleep, but waking now was sister unto death.

XVIII.

Scattred in Fields the Bodies lay, The earth call’d to the Fowls to take their Flesh away. In vain she call’d, they come not nigh, Nor would their food with their own ruine buy, But at full meals, they hunger, pine, and die. The Vulters afar off did see the feast, Rejoyc’d, and call’d their friends to taste, They rallied up their troops in haste, Along came mighty droves, Forsook their young ones, and their groves, Each one his native mountain and his nest; They come, but all their carcases abhor, And now avoid the dead men more Than weaker birds did living men before. But if some bolder fowls the flesh essay, They were destroy’d by their own prey. The Dog no longer bark’t at coming guest, Repents its being a domestick Beast, Did to the woods and mountains haste: The very Owls at _Athens_ are But seldome seen and rare, The Owls depart in open day, Rather than in infected Ivy more to stay.

XIX.

Mountains of bones and carcases, The street, the Market-place possess, Threatning to raise a new _Acropolis_. Here lies a mother and her child, The infant suck’d as yet, and smil’d, But strait by its own food was kill’d. There parents hugg’d their children last, Here parting lovers last embrac’d, But yet not parting neither, They both expir’d and went away together. Here pris’ners in the Dungeon die, And gain a two-fold liberty, They meet and thank their pains Which them from double chains Of body and of iron free. Here others poyson’d by the scent Which from corrupted bodies went, Quickly return the death they did receive, And death to others give; Themselves now dead the air pollute the more, For which they others curs’d before, Their bodies kill all that come near, And even after death they all are murderers here.

XX.

The friend doth hear his friends last cries, Parteth his grief for him, and dies, Lives not enough to close his eyes. The father at his death Speaks his son heir with an infectious breath; In the same hour the son doth take His fathers will, and his own make. The servant needs not here be slain, To serve his master in the other world again; They languishing together lie, Their souls away together flie; The husband gasp’th and his wife lies by, It must be her turn next to die, The husband and the wife Too truly now are one, and live one life. That couple which the Gods did entertain, Had made their prayer here in vain; No fates in death could then divide, They must without their priviledge together both have dy’d.

XXI.

There was no number now of death, The sisters scarce stood still themselves to breath: The sisters now quite wearied In cutting single thred, Began at once to part whole looms, One stroak did give whole houses dooms; Now dy’d the frosty hairs, The Aged and decrepid years, They fell, and onely beg’d of Fate, Some few months more, but ’twas alas too late. Then Death, as if asham’d of that, A Conquest so degenerate, Cut off the young and lusty too; The young were reck’ning ore What happy dayes, what joyes they had in store; But Fate, e’re they had finish’d their account, them slew. The wretched Usurer dyed, And had no time to tell where he his treasures hid. The Merchant did behold His Ships return with Spice and Gold, He saw’t, and turn’d aside his head, Nor thank’d the Gods, but fell amidst his riches dead.

XXII.

The Meetings and Assemblies cease, no more The people throng about the Orator. No course of Justice did appear, No noise of Lawyers fill’d the ear, The Senate cast away The Robe of Honour, and obey Deaths more resistless sway, Whilest that with Dictatorian power Doth all the great and lesser Officers devour. No Magistrates did walk about; No Purple aw’d the rout, The common people too A Purple of their own did shew; And all their Bodies o’re, The ruling colours bore, No Judge, no Legislators sit Since this new _Draco_ came, And harsher Laws did frame, Laws that like his in blood are writ. The Benches and the Pleading-place they leave, About the streets they run and rave: The madness which Great _Solon_ did of late But counterfeit For the advantage of the State, Now his successors do too truly imitate.

XXIII.

Up starts the Souldier from his bed, He though Deaths servant is not freed, Death him cashier’d, ’cause now his help she did not need. He that ne’re knew before to yield, Or to give back, or lead the Field, Would fain now from himself have fled. He snatch’d his sword now rusted o’re, Dreadful and sparkling now no more, And thus in open streets did roar: How have I death so ill deserv’d of thee, That now thy self thou shouldst revenge on me? Have _I_ so many lives on thee bestow’d? Have I the earth so often dy’d in blood? Have I to flatter thee so many slain? And must _I_ now thy prey remain? Let me at least, if _I_ must dye, Meet in the Field some gallant enemy. Send Gods the _Persian_ troops again; No they’re a base and a degenerate train; They by our Women may be slain. Give me great Heavens some manful foes. Let me my death amidst some valiant _Grecians_ choose, Let me survive to die at _Syracuse_, Where my dear Countrey shall her Glory lose For you Great Gods! into my dying mind infuse, What miseries, what doom Must on my _Athens_ shortly come: My thoughts inspir’d presage, Slaughters and Battels to the coming Age; Oh! might _I_ die upon that glorious stage: Oh that! but then he grasp’d his sword, & death concludes his rage.

XXIV.

Draw back, draw back thy sword, O Fate! Lest thou repent when ’tis too late, Lest by thy making now so great a waste, By spending all Man-kind upon one feast, Thou sterve thy self at last: What men wilt thou reserve in store, Whom in the time to come thou mayst devour, When thou shalt have destroyed all before. But if thou wilt not yet give o’re, If yet thy greedie Stomach calls for more, If more remain whom thou must kill, And if thy jawes are craving still, Carry thy fury to the _Scythian_ coasts, The Northern wildness, and eternal frosts! Against those barbrous crouds thy arrows whet, Where Arts and Laws are strangers yet; Where thou may’st kill, and yet the loss will not be great, There rage, there spread, and there infect the Air, Murder whole towns and families there, Thy worst against those Savage nations dare, Those whom Man-kind can spare, Those whom man-kind it self doth fear; Amidst that dreadful night, and fatal cold, There thou may’st walk unseen, and bold, There let thy Flames their Empire hold. Unto the farthest Seas, and Natures ends, Where never Summer Sun its beams extends, Carry thy plagues, thy pains, thy heats; Thy raging fires, thy tortering sweats, Where never ray, or heat did come, They will rejoyce at such a doom, They’l bless thy Pestilential fire, Though by it they expire, They’l thank the very Flames with which they do consume.

XXV.

Then if that banquet will not thee suffice, Seek out new Lands where thou maist tyrannize; Search every forrest, every hill, And all that in the hollow mountains dwell; Those wild and untame troops devour, Thereby thou wilt the rest of men secure, And that the rest of men will thank thee for. Let all those humane beasts be slain, Till scarce their memory remain; Thy self with that ignoble slaughter fill, ’Twill be permitted thee that blood to spill. Measure the ruder world throughout, March all the Ocean shores about, Only pass by and spare the _British Isle_. Go on, and (what _Columbus_ once shall do, When daies and time unto their ripeness grow) Find out new lands, and unknown countries too. Attempt those lands which yet are hid From all Mortalitie beside: There thou maist deal a victory, And none of this world hear the cry Of those that by thy wounds shall die; No _Greek_ shall know thy cruelty, And tell it to posterity. Go, and unpeople all those mighty Lands, Destroy with unrelenting hands; Go, and the _Spaniards_ sword prevent, Go, make the _Spaniard_ innocent, Go, and root out all man-kind there. That when the _Europæan_ Armies shall appear, Their sin may be the less, They may find all a wilderness, And without blood the gold and silver there possess.

XXVI.

Nor is this all which we thee grant; Rather than thou should’st full imployment want, We do permit in _Greece_ it self thy kingdom plant. Ransack _Lycurgus_ streets throughout, They’ve no defence of walls to keep thee out. On wanton and proud _Corinth_ seise, Nor let her double waves thy flames appease. Let _Cyprus_ feel more fires than those of Love, Let _Delos_ which at first did give the Sun, See unknown Flames in her begun, Now let her wish she might unconstant proves, And from her place might truly move. Let _Lemnos_ all thy anger feel, And think that a new _Vulcan_ fell, And brought with him new Anvils, and new hell. Nay and at _Athens_ too we give thee up, All that thou find’st in Field, or camp, or shop, Make havock there without controul Of every ignorant and common soul; But then kind Plague, thy conquests stop; Let Arts, and let the learned there escape, Upon _Minerva’s_ self commit no rape; Touch not the sacred throng, And let _Apollo’s_ Priests be like him young, Let him be healthful too, and strong. But ah! too ravenous plague, whilst I Strive to keep off the misery, The learned too as fast as others round me die; They from corruption are not free, Are mortal though they give an immortality.

XXVII.

They turn’d their Authors o’re, to try, What help, what cure, what remedy All Natures stores against this Plague supply, And though besides they shunn’d it every where, They search’d it in their books, and fain would meet it there. They turn’d the Records of the antient times, And chiefly those that were made famous by their crimes; To find if men were punish’d so before, But found not the Disease nor cure. Nature alas! was now surpriz’d, And all her Forces seiz’d, Before she was how to resist advis’d: So when the Elephants did first affright The _Romans_ with unusual fight, They many battels lose, Before they knew their foes, Before they understood such dreadful troops t’oppose.

XXVIII.

Now ev’ry different Sect agrees Against their common adversary the disease, And all their little wranglings cease; The _Pythagoreans_ from their precepts swerve, No more their silence they observe, Out of their Schools they run, Lament, and cry, and groan; They now desir’d their Metempsychosis; Not onely do dispute, but wish That they might turn to beasts, or fowls, or fish. If the _Platonicks_ had been here, They would have curs’d their Masters year, When all things shall be as they were, When they again the same disease should bear: And all Philosophers would now, What the great _Stagyrite_ shall do, Themselves into the waters head-long throw.

XXIX.

The _Stoick_ felt the deadly stroke, At first assault their courage was not broke, They call’d to all the Cobweb aid, Of rules and precepts, which in store they had, They bid their hearts stand out, Bid them be calm and stout; But all the strength of precepts will not do’t. They cannot the storms of passions now asswage, As common men are angry, grieve, and rage. The Gods are called upon in vain, The Gods gave no release unto their pain, The Gods to fear even for themselves began. For now the sick unto the Temples came, And brought more than a holy flame, There at the Altars made their prayer, They sacrific’d and died there, A sacrifice not seen before; That Heaven, onely us’d unto the gore Of Lambs or Bulls, should now Loaded with Priests see its own Altars too.

XXX.