English

Ii iii 1 17

CALIsolus
How Heav'n in Scorn of human Arrogance,
Commits to trivial Chance the Fate of Nations!
While with incessant Thought laborious Man
Extends his mighty Schemes of Wealth and Pow'r,
And tow'rs and triumphs in ideal Greatness;
Some accidental Gust of Opposition
Blasts all the Beauties of his new Creation,
O'erturns the Fabrick of presumptuous Reason,
And whelms the swelling Architect beneath it.
Had not the Breeze untwin'd the meeting Boughs,
And through the parted Shade disclos'd the Greeks ,

I i 28 57

LEONTIUS

The Sons of Greece ,
Ill-fated Race! So oft besieg'd in vain,
With false Security beheld Invasion.
Why should they fear? — That Power that kindly spreads
The Clouds, a Signal of impending Show'rs,
To warn the wand'ring Linnet to the Shade,
Beheld without Concern, expiring Greece ,
And not one Prodigy foretold our Fate.

DEMETRIUS
A thousand horrid Prodigies foretold it.
A feeble Government, eluded Laws,
A factious Populace, luxurious Nobles,

SEMICHORUS

O H Tyrant Love! hast thou possest
The prudent, learn'd, and virtuous breast?
Wisdom and wit in vain reclaim,
And Arts but soften us to feel thy flame.
Love, soft intruder, enters here,
But entring learns to be sincere.
Marcus with blushes owns he loves,
And Brutus tenderly reproves.

TO THE
Tragedy of Brutus
Chorus of A THENIANS

STROPHE I

Y E shades, where sacred truth is sought;
Groves, where immortal Sages taught:
Where heav'nly visions Plato fir'd,
And Epicurus lay inspir'd!
In vain your guiltless laurels stood

Big rats! Big rats!
Don't eat our millet!
For three years we've spoiled you,
but none of you has requited us.
It's got to the point where we'll leave you
and go to that happy land.
Happy land! Happy land!
There we'll find a place.

Big rats! Big rats!
Don't eat our wheat!
For three years we've spoiled you,
but none of you has rewarded us.
It's got to the point where we'll leave you
and go to that happy state.
Happy state! Happy state!
There we'll find a proper place.

Cyllenian Hermes with his golden rod
The wooers' soules (that yet retain'd abod
Amids their bodies) call'd in dreadfull rout
Forth to th'Infernals, who came murmuring out.
And as amids the desolate retreate
Of some vaste Caverne (made the sacred seate
Of austere spirits) Bats with Brests and wings
Claspe fast the wals, and each to other clings,
But, swept off from their coverts, up they rise
And flye with murmures in amazefull guise
About the caverne: so these (grumbling) rose

The servants thus inform'd, the Matron goes
Up where the Queene was cast in such repose,
Affected with a fervent joy to tell
What all this time she did with paine conceale.
Her knees revokt their first strength, and her feete
Were borne above the ground with wings, to greete
The long-greev'd Queene with newes her King was come;
And (neere her) said: " Wake! Leave this withdrawne roome,
That now your eyes may see at length, though late,
The man return'd which, all the heavy date
Your woes have rackt out, you have long'd to see:

The upper rags that wise Ulysses wore
Cast off, he rusheth to the great Hall dore
With Bow and Quiver full of shafts, which downe
He pour'd before his feet, and thus made known
His true state to the wooers: " This strife thus
Hath harmlesse bene decided. Now for us
There rests another marke more hard to hit,
And such as never man before hath smit,
Whose full point likewise my hands shall assay,
And try if Phaebus will give me his day."
He said, and off his bitter Arrow thrust
Right at Antinous; that strooke him just

Pallas (the Goddesse with the sparkling eyes)
Excites Penelope t'object the prise
(The Bow and bright steeles) to the wooers' strength;
And here began the strife and blood at length.
She first ascended by a lofty staire
Her utmost chamber; of whose doore her faire
And halfe transparent hand receiv'd the Key,
Bright, brazen, bitted passing curiously,
And at it hung a knob of Ivory.
And this did leade her where was strongly kept
The treasure Royall, in whose store lay heap't
Gold, Brasse, and Steele, engraven with infinite Art,

Ulysses in the Entry laide his head,
And under him an Oxe-hide newly flead,
Above him Sheep-fels' store; and over those
Eurynome cast Mantles. His repose
Would bring no sleepe yet, studying the ill
He wisht the wooers — who came by him still
With all their wenches, laughing, wantoning
In mutuall lightnesse: which his heart did sting,
Contending two wayes, if (all patience fled)
He should rush up and strike those Strumpets dead,
Or let that night be last, and take th'extreme