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VOL. I. 







p';i: £..:,■«, 

Cl^^ jfulltr iEortbus' ^ibrarg. 






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IN TWO VOLUMES. A ^ .; *^ ' - 

ft ^ "• * ' ' 

VOL. I. It-- • ^ . V 

f7\ '. 


100 eopiei only. 






(BORN 1573, DIED 1631) ; 







llMMe marked with a t<tar [•] have not before been printed : those with a 
dagger [t] have been derived from authoritative M88. O. 


Dedication . v 

Preface xi 

I. Satires, 1-63. 

Note 2 

f Satire i 5 

t M " 14 

t » "1 23 

», IV 30 

» V 45 

n VI 51 

„ VII 61 

II. Thb Proorb88 of the Soul, 65-96. 

III. ELEOIESf 97-351. 

Note '98 


Note. I02 

I. To the Praise of the Dead, and the Anatomy . . 105 
An Anatomie of the World : the First Anniversarie . 107 

A Fvnerall Elegie 124 

II. The Harbinger to the Prpgresse 129 

The Progresse of the Soiile : the Second Aniversarie . 131 

VOL. I. b 



t I. Refusal to allow his young Wife to accompany him 

Abroad as a Page i6i 

t II. Jealousie 164 

t III. The Anagram 167 

t IV. Change 170 

t V, The Perfume , . 173 

t VI. The Poet's Picture 177 

t VII. Favorite in Ordinary 178 

t VIII. Amorous Delicacies . . • . . . .181 

t IX. The Comparison ....... 183 

+ X. The Autumnal 187 

t XI. The Dream 190 

f XII. Vpon the Losse of l)is Mistresse's Chaine . . 193 

t XIII. Love-Memories in Absence 199 

t XIV. Parting . . . 203 

t XV. Julia ao8 

f XVI. The Expostulation 210 

t XVII. A Tale of a Citizen and his Wife .... 214 

t XVIII. Love's Progress 218 

f XIX. To his Mistress going to Bed 223 

t XX. Opinion 225 

f XXI. A Paradox of a Painted Face 229 

t XXII. Love's War 234 

t XXIII. Love''s Power 237 

t XXIV. Love and Reason 239 

t XXV. To a Lady of Dark Complexion .... 242 

t XXVI. An Elegie to Mrs. Boulstred 245 

• XXVII. Love and Wit 247 

* XXVI 1 1. A Love-Monster 249 

IV. Epithalamiums, or Markiaob SoxoSf 253-278. 

An Epithalamion on Frederick Count Palatine of the Rhene and 

the Lady Elizabeth being married on St. Yalentine*8 Day 255 

Eclogue, Dec. 26, 1613 261 

Epithalamion : made at Lincoln's Inn 274 


I do not hide from myself that it needs courage (though 
I do not claim praise for its exercise) to edit and print 
the Poetry of Dr. John Donne in our day. Nor would 
I call it literary prudery that shrinks from giving publi- 
city to such sensuous things (to say the least) as indubit- 
ably are found therein. Contrariwise the susceptibility 
that makes one so shrink is healthy and true, and its 
sharp though unvociferous warning may not safely be 
stifled. I deplore that Poetry, in every way almost so 
memorable and potential, should be stained even to un- 
cleanliness in sorrowfully too many places ; and while 
I believe Donne might have written over his collected 
Poems what Robert Herrick put for epigraph to his 
Hesperides, viz. 

' To his Book*8 eod this last line he'd have p1ac*t : 
Jooond his Muse was ; but hut Life rras rftatt,' — 

I yet fear William Cartwright's hitbi'rto overlooked pro- 
test in his tacit allusion probably to these very lines, 
in his noble tribute to Ben Jonson, must hold : 

' No bargaoing iine there ; no provoc'tive verse ; 
Nothing but what Lucretia might rehearse : 
No need to make good countenance ill, and use 
THe plea of strict life for a looser Muse.* 


Wp know too that in later years Donne lafnented his 
* youthful verse.' 

Nevertheless, I take the responsibility of including 
Donne in my Series on these grounds : 

(a) I do not puMish or throw open to all, but limit 
to fellow-booklovera and fellow-students, by a * private 
circulation,' — a modified publicity. 

(h) The poetry of Donne occupies a unique place 
in the Literature of the period. This is universally ad- 

(c) To get at Hhe form and pressure' of the time, 
you must study this Poetry. His ' Satires' and ' Elegies* 
carry in them an unwritten chapter of Elizabethan his- 

{d.) Those whom these Volumes may be assumed 
to reach are 'strong' enough to use them for literary 
purposes unhurt; and respect is due to the 'strong' 
equally with the ' weak.' 

{e.) Only through his Poetry do yom come near to 
Donne in the fulness of his faculties and in his most 
characteristic utterances. 

(/) The moral and spiritual study of an intellect 
so remarkable and intense, and of an after-life so white 
and beautiful, is of profoundest suggestiveness. It is 
only truthful too, to give all known materials for right 
estimate and right solution of problems started by the 
Life and Writings of Donne. Finally, 

{g) 'With every abatement' — as I say in my Dedi- 
cation — ^the Poetry of Donne is imperishable in much 
of it, and notable in all, and historically and philoso- 
phically to be held fast. Granted th$it as in rose's heart 
or lily's chalice you are shocked to find a slug crawl- 


ing. Yet. none the less is the rose * a thing of beauty/ 
none the less the lily of the finest and nicest workman- 
ship of The Grardener; e. g, here is one line oat of many 
equally arresting, that springs up first (so to say) not 
merely from 'reeds and rushes* slime-rooted, but as it 
were out of ordure such as makes one hold the nose : 

' Love built on beauty eoon as beauty dies,* 

I reserve a Study of the Life and Writings of 
T)oNNB for Volume II., that (as in (/Rahhaw) the com- 
pleted Poetry may be before the reader in its perusal. 
There I hope to make good the highest claims that 
have been advanced in his name, and likewise give a 
critical account of the original and after-editions of 
the Poems (1611-1669 onward) and of various mb. 
collections that have been drawn on by me. I shall 
also exemplify, by passages strangely neglected, the 
'cunning' and subtle faculty of our Singer, without 
any need of Coleridge's somewhat paradoxical theory 
of Donne's measures and accentuation. By the way, 
the name of Coleridge reminds me that even well- 
informed critics and literary authorities, e. g. Mrs. 
Jameson in her ' Loves of the Poets,' and Lieut -Col. 
Cunningham in his edition of the Works of Ben Jonson, 
and others, continually quote the empty burlesque lines 
on Donne of HarUey Coleridge, as the Coleridge's, in 
the teeth of the latter's abundant expressions of his 
lofty estimate and love for Donne as a Poet. Perhaps 
too the perfunctory way in which Donne is ordinarily 
read can scarcely be more sorrowfully, if also ludi- 
crously, proved than by the habitual treatment of the 
'commendatory' poems prefixed to the 'Anatomic' and 


the * 2d Anniversarif*,' as though they formed, part of 
the Poems themselves, instead of having been the af- 
fectionate and admiring tribute of (afterwards) Bishop 
Joseph Hall (as shown in the place). 

For the present it must suffice to state that I have 
had ALL the editions of Donne thus far issued before 
me while preparing my own ; that I have collated and 
ro-collatcd the whole with prolonged carefulness ; that 
in each case the source of the successive poems is re- 
corded in the place, and all noticeable 'various-readings' 
in related Notes and Illustrations ; that such collating 
and utilisation of mss. public and private have en- 
abled me to correct the swarming errors and bewilder- 
ments of previous editions ; and that in Kotes and Il- 
lustrations I have brought together (as in my other 
books of the Series) materials that may not prove un- 
useful to students of our elder poetic literature at 
its best. With reference to these Notes and Illustra- , 
tions I cannot too emphatically or unreservedly acknow- 
ledge my indebtedness to Dr. Brinslby Nicholson, 
for his lavish and suggestive communications toward 
these, in common with all the volumes of the Fuller 
Worthies' Library, since I had the privilege of his 
friendship. I continue to find all friends formerly 
named right willing to aid in every possible way. 

I feel it to be a singular honour to be the first to 
have engraved Oliver's exquisite miniature of Donne. 
It seems to me a surpassingly noble face, with genius 
stamped on its every line. Nor is the engraver (Mr. 
W. J. Alais) undeserving of his meed of praise for bis 
I)art. I thank the owner of the original for his kind- 
ness in allowing me the use of it. I limit impres- 



sions to the one hundred quartos and twenty -five 
separately (folio: proofs). For the ordinary large 
paper (Svo), by favour of Messrs. Longman and Co., 
I am enabled to furnish HoU's admirable reproduction 
of an (alleged) Vandyck, but the authenticity of which 
I should scarcely venture to vouch for. It idealises 
the homely engraving of Merian in the folio Sermons. 
In Volume II. will be found (in the quarto) a photo- 
facsimile, by the Woodbury process, of Marshall's cele- 
brated portrait of the Poet in his eighteenth year, from 
an unusually brilliant impression; also a facsimile of 
Donne's handwriting, &c. 

I had prepared my usual Memorial-Introduction, 
containing very considerable biographical additions to 
Walton and our data hitherto, e,g, a series of import- 
ant and characteristic Letters in H.M. Record Office, 
the Losely Letters — his Will in extenso (never be- 
fore seen apparently) — and other letters and documents 
from public and piiyate sources. Some of these I 
shall require in part for the already-named Essay; but 
finding from my accomplished correspondent, the Eev. 
Dr. Augustus Jessop (to whom I am indebted for an 
unpublished and vivid poem by Donne, which will 
appear in Volume II.), that he has long been engaged 
upon a really critical and worthy edition of the com- 
plete Prose Works of Donne, and that the ' Life and 
Introduction' he hopes very soon to put to press, I 
forego the pleasure of first printing these various papers, 
and gladly hand over the whole to him in fstithful 
transcripts. Dr. Jessop has given a taste of his quality 
as an editor of Donne in his natty little collection 
of the * Essays' (1855); and I feel sure that a writer 


BO coiiBcientious, and a critic so open-eyed and schol- 
arly, ^will make his edition of Donne a real addition 
to our English classics. The late Dean Alford's edition 
(6 vols. 8vo) was a literary fiasco, 

I refer the reader to the several introductory Notes, 
and Notes and Illustrations, for anything farther re- 
quiring to be said. It only remains to be added, that, 
as in all my Worthies, I reproduce the whole in in- 
tegrity, and that in the present Volume several im- 
portant additions to Donne*s Poems are given, while in 
Volume II. there will be considerably more — all as 
explained in the Contents and in their places. 

Alexander B. Grosart. 
Park View, Blackburn, Lanoasbire. 

*,* It may be needful to note tbat \j tbe words ' the child- 
wife' (p. 69), in relation to Mrs. Elizabeth Droiy, is meant 
tbe ideal child-wife (bo too child- woman and child-mother) of 
the Poet. * Mrs.' was then and long subsequently used to de- 
signate young ladies of quality or gentry marriageable but un- 
married. The youthful Elizabeth Drury, it need .scarcely be 
stated, was not married; and as 'Mrs.* (in the modem sense) 
sounds oddly, perhaps it is well thus to record the fact. 





VOL. I. 

4 NOTE. 

MB. I designate the Hazlewood-KingBborough us., as haTing 
been in the famoos Kingsboroiigh collection, and afterwarda 
owned by Hazlewood. See more on this in oor Preface. 

On Pope's so-called * Tersifying' of certain of these Satires 
and Pamell*B, and the traditional nonsense of incapable, how- 
ever high-named critics, abont onr Worthy's obscurity and so 
on, I refer to our already-named Essay. G. 


Away, thou changling motley humorist, 

Leaue mee, and in this standing woodden chest, 

Consoled w*^ theese fewe bookes, let me ly 

In prison, and here be cofiOind, when I dy. 

Here are Grod's Conduits, graue divines ; and here 5 

Nature's Secretary, the philosopher ; 

And iolly Statesmen, w*^ teach how to ty 

The senews of a Cittyes mistique body; 

Here gathering Chronicles, and by them stand 

Giddy fEuitastiqe Poeta of each land. 10 

Shall I leave all this constant Company, 

And followe headlong wild uncertaine thee 1 

First sweare by thy best loue in earnest^ 

(Yf thou, w^ lou'st all, can loue any best,) 

Thou wilt not leaue me in the middle street, 15 

Though some more spruce Companion thou do meete 

Kot though a Captaine do come in thy way, 

Bright parcel-guilt, w*** forty dead men's pay ; 

Not though a brisk, perfum'd, pert Courtier 

Daine w*^ a nod thy Courtesyes to answer ; 20 

Nor Come a veluet Justice w**" a longe 

Great trains of blew coats, 12 or 14 stronge. 


Shalt thou grinne or fanne on him, or prepare 

A speach to court his beauteous sonne and heyre. 

For better and worse take mee, or leaue mee : 25 

To take and leaue me is adultery. 

O monster, superstitious Puritan 

Of refind manners, yet Ceremonial man, 

That, when thou meet'st one, w*** enquiring eyes, 

Doth search, and like a needy broker prise 30 

The silke and gold hee weares, and to that rate, 

80 hie or low, doest raise thy formall hat : 

That wilt consort none, untill thou haue knowne 

What lands hee hath in hope, or of his owne ; 

As though all thy Companions should make thee 35 

Jointures, and marry thy deare Company. 

Why should'st thou that doest not onely approue. 

But in ranke itchy lust, desire and loue, 

The nakednes and barenes to enioy bamnnest 

Of this plumpe. muddy hoore, or prostitute boy, whore 

Hate vertue, though shee be naked and bare? 41 

At birth and death our bodyes naked are ; 

And till our soules be unapparellM 

Of bodyes, they from blis are banished : 

Man's first best state was naked ; when by sinne 45 

Hee lost that, yet hee was clothd but in beast's skinne. 

And in this course attyre w*^ nowe I weare, coane 

With God and w* the muses I Conferre. 

But Since thou, like a contrite Penitent, 

Charitably wam'd of thy sinne, doest repent 50 


Theese vanityes and giddinesses, loe 
I shut my chamber dore, and come, let's goe. 
But sooner may a cheape hoore, who hath beene whore 
Wome by as many seueral men in sinne, 
As are blacke fethers, or muske-Collored hose, 55 

Name her child's right true father 'mongst all those ; 
Sooner may one gues, who shall beare away guess 
Th' infant of London heyre to an India ; 
And sooner may a gulling-weather-spy. 
By drawing forthe heauen's Scheme, tell certainly 60 
What fashiond hats or ruffes, or suites, next yeare 
Our supple-witted antiqe youthes will weare ; [Than 
Then thou, when, thou departst from hence, can show 
Whether, why, where, or w* whom thou wouldst go. 
But howe shall I bee pardon'd my offence, 65 

That thus have sin'd against my Conscience f 
Now we are in the streete ; hee first of all, 
Unprouidently proud, creepes to the wall ; 
And so imprisond and hemd in by mee, 
Sels for a little roome his liberty. 70 

Yet though he cannot skip forth now to greete 
Eueiy fine silken painted foole wee meete. 
He them to him w^ amorous smiles allures, 
And grinns, smackes, shrugs, and such an itch endures, 
As 'prentises or Schooleboyes, w** do knowe 75 

Of some gay sport abroad, yet dare not goe ; 
And as fidlers stop lowest at highest sound, low'st 
So to the most braue stoups hee nighst the ground ; 


But to a graue man hee doth mone no more 

Then the wiae poiitiqe horse would heretofore, 80 

Or thou, Elephant, or Ape, wilt doe, 

When any names the k[ing] of Spaine to yon. [see 

Now leapes hee upright, ioggs mee, and cryes, ' Do you 

Yonder wel-fauourd youth r *W«»»r *Yea! 'tis hee 

That dances so diuinely.* * O,' said I, 85 

* Stand still, must you dance to for (company ?' too 
He droupt ; wee went, till one w** did excell 

The Indians in drinking his Tobacco well 

Mett us : they talkt ; I whisperd, ' let us go ; 

May bee you smel him not, truly I do.* 90 

He heares not mee, but on the other side 

A many-colourd Peacock hauing spide, 

Leaues him and mee ; I for my lost sheepe stay ; 

He followes, ouertakes, goes in the way, 

Saying, * him, whom I last left, all repute 95 

For his deuice, in handsoming a suite, 

To iudge of lace, pinck, panes, cut, print, or pleight, 

Of all the Court to haue the best Conceit.' 

' Our dull Comedians want him, let him go ; 

But 0, God strengthen thee, why stoupst thou so f 100 

* Why, hee hath traueld long ; no, but to mee 
Which understand none, hee doth seeme to bee 
Perfect french and Italian,* I replyed, 

* So is the Pox.' Hee answer'd not, but spide 

More men of sort, of parts and qualityes : 1 05 

At last his loue hee in a window spyes, 


And like light dewe exhaVd hee flinges from me 

Violently rauisht to his lechery. 

Many were there, hee could comand no more ; 

He quareld, fought, hied ; and turn'd out of dore no 

Directly came to mee, hanging the head, 

And constantly a while must keepe his hed. 


Heading : 'there is none in the 1593 MS. ; Vtit elsewhere {e. g. 
Stephens' ms.) it is written ' Satyra 1;' and bo in 1633 and snh- 

Line 1, ' ehangUng,^ 1633 ' fondling :' bo Stephens* ms. and 
Lansdowne ms. 740. Ab ' changeling' ifl ambigaons, being nsed 
for fairy changelings, and as 'motley' expreBses the varions 
picked costumes of different enstoms which the foppish Eng- 
lishman was BnppoBed to delight in, probably * fondling' was 
the author's reviBed word. 

Line 2, ' standing woodden chesL^ Books were kept in 
'chests;' bat query, Is the poet not here humorously likening 
his little study-closet to such a chest ? Cf . Marvell's * Flecknoe,* 
lines 10-14. 

Line 3, ' eonsoUd :' 1633 * consorted ;' and so usually. As 
before he says ' away,' &c., there was no need of consolation: 
and this doubtless Donne saw, and therefore wrote in later re- 
Tision ' consorted.' 

Line 6. In '69 the reading is ' It Nature's . . .' which re- 
places ' "^ by the proper "'. 

Line 7, ' ioUy.' 1636, 1639, 1669, &c. * wily.' It is * jollye' 
in Stephens' ms. and Harleian ms. 4955. On * jolly/ see re- 
lative note on ' Progress of the Soul' (line 294). But * wily' is 
the revised and preferable word. 

Line 9, ' Chronicles:' 1633 and usually ' Chroniclers,' which 
again seems the revised and better word. Stephens' ms. 
• Heer's' for • Here.' 

Line 13. Even when first written, in e|amest| would be 
harsh ; but it would be far more harsh at a later date, when pro- 

VOL. 1. * c 


nnnciatioii was more Blorring, and when this lieense of inoreM- 
ing the Byllables of a word had greatly gone ont. ' Here is yoor 
present best loye in this town or place :* and the * here* was 
thus probably onr author's later insertion. 

Line 15, 'middle street* = middle of the street: Latinate, 
in media via. 

line 18, * parcel -guiW = part -gilded. So in Christopher 
Brooke's Richard III. * percell gnylt' (onr edition, page 60, line 
14). So too in Shakespeare, * parcel-gilt goblet* (2 Henry IV. 
ii. 1). 

lb. * forty dead meti't pay.* Cf. Elegy Tii. line 9. There, 
as here, * dead names* are names which carry no service, the 
phrase being adopted from the yery common custom of carrying 
dead men*s names on the companies* mnster-rolls, and thereby 
drawing pay in excess of the tme numbers. 

line 22, ' blew coati,* the liyery of the lower retainers and 
seryitors, and in especial of those in and from the country. 

Line 23, * Shalt:' in 1638 and usually *Wilt:' Stephens* 
MS. * shalt.* ' Thou shalt swear thou wilt not,' is the better 
English ; but ' shalt* expresses the repetition of the oath to him. 

lb. * or,' written with a long * r,* which giyes it the appear- 
ance of * of.*» 

Line 25, ' and :* 1638 and usually ' or.' When you are im- 
pressing on one the conditions, as Donne is here, the * or* is the 
more emphatic — ^remember you take me for better or for worse ; 
that is, for worse when the worse comes. ' Or* probably our 
author*s later word. 

Line 27, ' monster:* so Harleian mb. 4955 : ' monstrous* in 
1683 and Lansdowne mb. 740, and Stephens* mb. ' Monster' 
is the better word, but I remoye the usual comma (,) after 
Puritan. Donne does not call him a Puritan, but a Puritan of 
manners ; where Puritan is used metaphorically, or for the sake 
of the paradoxical point, instead of Purist. 

line 30, * doth ;' Stephens* mb. * dost.' 

lb. * prise* ='pnce or Bet at yalue. 

Line 32, * raise:* Stephens* mb. *yaile*= (nautical) to lower, 
not the flag, as some writers haye said, but the topsails, in token 
of submiBsion or conrteous recognition of authority, the yessel 
being thus placed at the mercy of the other. Hence it was 
applied metaphorically to any Buch act. We haye the word 
* yail* used as aboye in Marlowe (T. the Great, ii. 1), * . . . shall 
yail to us.* So too Hall (Satires, book iii. y.), *his bonnet 



vaiVd,^ Probably * vaiV was oxa author's yariation, set aside 
on obserring the word * high.' 

Line 3d. In Stephens' ms. 

'That wilt consort with none, untlll t" [— thon] hast knowne.' 
,, 40, ' this :! usually ' thy,' and so in Stephens' ms. ; and 
as * this' is a relative, and there is no antecedent, the sense re- 
quires * thy' or * a.' 

lb. * muddy.* I have not met the word so applied, but it is 
stronger than the nearest synonym * filthy.* Allan Ramsay is 
perhaps unjustly censured by Bums for using * muddy* in his 
well-known song. 

Line 44, ' Our :\ 1633 and usually ' of bodies :' so all British- 
Museum MSB. and Stephens' us. ; and I accept ' Of.' 

Line 45, * best ;' so Stephens' us. : but 1633 and B.-Museum 
U88. ' blest.' ' Blest' is stronger, as implying the state before 
the Fall. Man's first state might have been *best' without 
being ' blest.' 

Line 46, Stephens' us. ' that, yet he . . .' Stephens' us. 
line is a foot too long, showing either that the transcriber had 
by an error written y^ as that and yet, or that it was taken 
from a copy where the author had doubted of his word, and ao* 
cidentally left both. The * but' seems preferable, for he says 
even when he had sinned, still he required only, &c. 

Line 47. I prefer * which I [ndw wear], because the emphasis 
is thrown on the * I,' in contradistinction to the previous * he :' 

* which now [I wear] ' would be right if he were speaking of a 
former time — ' when I wore something else.' I make these re- 
marks, as elsewhere, though from the authority of the us. of 
1593 it be adhered to. 

Line 50. Usually * sins:' and as penitents as a rule confess 
their sins, not their sin, and as previously Donne has charged 
him with no one sin in particular, but with several sins, the 
plural was doubtiess our author's revised word. 

Line 54, ' Wome :' Stephens' us. and usually ' wome ouV — 
the latter probably our author's revised word. 

Line 55, ^ muske-CoUored :* 1633 'musk-colour.' 
„ 58. 1669 reads badly * The infantry of London, hence 
to India.' Stephens' us. ' The Infant of London, th' heire to 
rich India.' Some lost local allusion, corresponding with the 

* Child of Hale,' near Liverpool=a giant. 

Line 60, * Scheme:' so Stephens' us. : 1633 * sceanes :' 1639 
and 1669 < scheme.* 

12 BATIHE 1. 

Line 62, * mppte-witted :' bo Stephens* mb. : 1638 * snbiile- 
wittied :' 1669 ' giddy-headed.* These variations, * subtile-wit- 
tied/ Bnpple-witted,' ' giddy-headed/ I take to be sucoesBlTe re- 
visions in the order enumerated. ' Giddy^headed' is an allnsion 
to their wits being as giddy as the feathers that covered them. 

Line 63, ' hence :* so Stephens' us. : 1633 and usually 

* mee.* It is * hence' in Harleian mss. ; and * hence' Beems the 

Line 68. * Unprouidently ;' 1633 and usually * Improvid- 

Line 70, ' roome ;' 1633 and usually ' state ;' also * high' for 
' his.' We have here, in the variations of * roome' and * state,' 
one proof among many that the ordinary text gives the author's 
own revision of the earlier form as represented by the ms. of 
1593. The fellow takes the wall-side as the more honourable, 
and is thereby olosed-in more than Donne, who is on the out- 
side. Hence Donne wrote, *he sells his liberty for a little 
room,' using * room' in the sense of state or station, as he uses 
it in Progress of the Soul, zl. line 8 ; but on revision he saw 
that the word was here so ambiguous that at first sight it ex- 
pressed the contrary, so he altered it to * state.' 

Line 71, * tkip :' Stephens' us. ' cannot now step forth to 

Line 72. Query, fine, silken, painted ? 
„ 80, * horse.' Cf . our Sir John Davies (p. 334). Banks' 
horse Morocco (a horse alluded to by almost every writer of the 
day) and asses, and, as would appear from the text, elephants, 
were taught to bow and leap, or go over, on naming the sove- 
reign or the like, but to pay no heed or turn their backs when 
the Pope or King of Spain (enemy of England) was mentioned. 
Shakespeare names the * wonderful horse' (Love's Labour Lost, 
i. 2). See Peter Hall's ed. of Bp. HaU, vol. xii. pp. 221-2, for 
curious details. 

Lines 81-2. This couplet not in 1633. 

„ 82. 1 print ' k [ing] ' simply to show that here the mb. 
has ' k' only=a contraction for * king,' as in the usual printed 

Line 83, * and eryes :' * and' is omitted sometimes : read 

* mee, and.' 

Line 84, * Yea :' 1633 and usually * Oh.' 
„ 85. Sometimes * yea' for * oh,' which would agree best 
with * must yon,' but not with * stand stiU.' Being probably 

SATIRE I. ' 13 

reffarded a& too pnritanio, it wm no donbt deleted, and the ori- 
ginal * Oh' iB * O' replaced. 
' line 86, 'to:' ib. *here.' 

„ 87, * Wtf« :' StephenB* MS. ' he.* 

„ 88, * drinking.' The common phrase for smoking. Cf . 
Sir John Beaumont's Metamorphosis of Tobacco (oar edition). 
Line 90. 1633 * 'T may be.* 
„ 90, *smeV The frequent aUnsions to this in Eliza- 
bethan times are very extraordinary. One must suffice : 

Soene. 77u Dui^i JMaee. 

RoteUine, Eaagh, what a strong aent's here ! some body UMth to weare 

Bdl. By this fair candle light 'tis not my feet ; 1 never wore socks slnoe I 
Bockt pappe. 

Manton, Antonio and MelUda, act ii. civoa 1596. 

Cf . Elegy V. line 45. 

Line 98, ' stay.' American edition misprints * stray.* 
„ 94, * in ;' probably a mere clerical error for the usual 

Line 97. The British-Museum mss. nearly correspond ; but 
' pinok* is also written * pinokt.* Stephens' ms. ' To judge a 
lace, pinck, pains, print, cut, or plaite.' Of the different terms 
here, pinck is=eylet-hole8 ; -panes = slits or openings, through 
which the net lining was seen or pulled out. Print : the in- 
stances are common which proTe that ' in print* meant in regu- 
lar or apple-pie order. But the use of the word here, and its 
cognate use as meaning impressions of various kinds, and some 
of the examples where it is used in speaking of ru£b, lead me 
to conclude that it meant such frilling or crimping as is done 
with an Italian iron. Thus when Bp. Earle, in his Miorocos- 
mography, speaks of the preference of the Puritan dame for 
small Geneya print, I apprehend he speaks not of the regularity 
BO much as of the small and formal frilling they wore, in oppo- 
sition to the large orimpings of people of fashion. As regu- 
larity was an essential in ruflfs, and could only be attained by 
a machine * print* or impression, so I think the general sense 
of exactness and precision is more likely to have been taken 
from such printing than from the regularity of type oyer manu- 

Lines 100-104. I find a difficulty in the allocation of the 
different parts of the dialogue. ' I reply'd' shows that ' he doth 
seem . . Italian* is spoken by the Macaron. Hence I take it that 
' Why ?* is most probably the absent and unattending ezdama- 


tion of the sajne, ^o Ib intent on his oonrtesy to the stranger ; 
* He hath travelled long?* the qneiy of Donne ; the * No, hnV 
part of the Maoaron*B answer, * No, bnt he doth seem,* A6. ; 
while the phrase * to me ... . none' is Donne's parenthetical 
elanse, meaning [said he] to me, which understood none of 
these things, or as hnmoronsly explanatory of his pretended 
blunder — So is the pox — [said he] to me, which understood not 
his affected lingo. 

Line 102. Stephens' mb. ' understood nought.' 
„ 107, ' light dewe :' Stephens' mb. has * might ;' but as 
there is nothing in the man to recall ' night,' and nothing in 
the incident to bring up the image of day after night, the fop 
is better characterised by * light dew.' 

Line 108, * Uchery :' 1633 * Uberty.' 0. 


Sr, though (I thank God for it) I do hate 

All this toune perfectly, yet in euery state 

There are some found so yillanously hest, 

That hate towards that hreeds pitty toward the rest 

Though Poetry indeed be such a sinne 5 

As I ame afraid brings dearths and Spaniards in ; 

Though like the Pestilens or old-fashiond loues. 

It rydes kiUingely, catcheth men, and removes 

Neuer till it bee staru'd out ; yet their state 

Is poore, disarm'd, like Papists, not worth hate. 10 

One like a wretch (w*^ at bar iudg'd as dead, 

Yet prompts him w*^ stands next, and cannot reade, 

And sau's his life) giues Idiot Actors means, 

Staruing himselfe, to liue by his labourd Sceanes ; 

SATIRE 11. 15 

As in some Organs Puppets dance aboue, 1 5 

And Bellowes pant belowe w*^ them do mono, 

One would moue loue by rhimes; but witchcraft's charms 

Bring not now their old fears, nor their old harms. 

Eams and slings nowe are silly Battery, 

Pistolets are the best Artillery. 20 

And they who write to lords, rewards to get. 

Are they not like Boyes singing at dore for meat f 

And they who write, because all write, haue still 

That 'sense for writing, and for writing ill. 

But hee is worst, who beggerly doth chawe 25 

Others' wits' fruits, and in his rauenous mawe, 

Eanckly digested, doth those things out spue. 

As his owne things ; and they are his owne, its true ; 

For if one eate my meate, though it bee knowne 

The meate was mine, the excrement's his owne. 30 

But those do mee no harme, nor they w^ use 

To outdoe Dildoes or 'out-usure Jewes, 

To 'outdrinke the sea, outsweare the letany. 

Who w**" sins, all kinds, as familiar bee 

As Ck>nfessors, and for whose sinfull sake 35 

Schoolemen new tenements in hel must make ; 

In whose strange sins Canonists could haidly tell 

In which commandement's large receit they dwelL 

But these punish themselues. The insolence 

Of Coscus onely breeds my great offence, 40 

Whom tyme, w**" rots al, and makes Botches Pox, 

And plodding on must make a Calfe an Oxe, 


Hath made a Lawier, w*^ was alas of late 

But a scarse poet ; iollyer of that State scarce a 

Then are new benefic*t Ministers, hee thiowes dna 45 

Like nets or lime-twigs, wheresoe're hee goes, 

His title of Barrister on eneiy wench, 

And woes in language of the Pleas and bench, woos 

'A motion, Lady :' — speake Coscus. — * I haue beene 

In loue e're sine 3mo of the Q[ueen.] tricesimo 50 

Continuall claymes I haue made, Iniunctions got 

To stay my riual's suite, that hee should not 

Proceede ;* — spare mee, — * In Hillary terme I went ; 

Tou said, yf I retumd this 'sise in Lent, 

I should bee in remitter of your grace ; 55 

In th' Interim my letters should take place 

Of Affidauits/ Words, words, w*** would teare 

The tender Labarinth of a soft maid's eare 

More, more then ten Slauonians' scolding, more 

Then when winds in our ruin'd Abbeys rore. 60 

When sicke with Poetry and possest w*^ Muse 

Thou wast, (and mad, I hop*t;) but men w*' chuse 

Lawe practise for mere gaine, hould sole repute, 

Worse then Imbrotl^eld strumpet's prostitute. * 

Kow, like an Owl-Uke watchman, hee must walke, 65 

His hands still at a bill ; now hee must talke 

Idly, like prisoners, w*'** hole monthes will sweare, whole 

That onely suretyship hath brought them there. 

And to euery suitor ly in euery thing, 

Like a king's fauorite, yea like a kinge : 70 


Like a wodge in a blocke, wringd to the bar, 

Bearing like Asses, and more shameles farre, 

Then Carted whores, ly to the graue Judge ; for than 

Bastardy abounds not in k'gs' titles, nor 

Symony and Sodomy in Churchmens' lines, 75 

As these thinges do in him ; by these hee thriues. 

Shortly, as the' "sea, hee Vill compas all our Land, 

From Scots to Wight, from Mount to Dover Strand, 

And spying heyres melting w* Gluttony, 

Satan will not ioy at their sins, as hee : 80 

For as a thrifby wench scrapes kitchin stuffe, 

And barelling the droppinges, and the snuife 

Of wasting Candles, which in 30 yeare, 

Eelique-like kept, perchance buyes wedding-geare, 

Feecemeale hee gets lands, and spends as much tyme 85 

Wringing each acre, as men pulling prime. 

In parchments then, large as his feelds, hee drawes 

Assurances ; big as glos'd Ciuil lawes, 

So huge, that men in our tyme's forwardnes 

Are fathers of the Church for writing lea. 90 

Theese hee writes not ; nor for theese writings payes, 

Therefore spares no length, as in those first daycs^ 

When Luther was profest, hee did desire 

Short Paternosters, saying as a frier 

Each day his beades ; but hauing left those lawes, 95 

Adds to Christ's prayr the Pow'r and Glory clause. 

But when he sells or changes lands, hee impaircs 

His writinges, and unwatchd leaues out his heyres, 

VOL. I. D 


As slyly, as any Commentor, goes by 

Hard words or sense ; or in Divinity lOo 

Afl Controvertera in voucht Texts leaue out 

Shrewd words, w** might against them cleare the doubt. 

Where are those spred woods w** cloth'd hertofore 

These bought lands 1 not built, nor burnt w****" dore. 

Where the old landlord's troups and almes ? In hals 

Carthusian fasts and fulsome Bacchanals io6 

Equally I hate. Meanes ble8[t]. In rich men's homes 

I bid kil some beasts, but no hecatombs ; 

None sterue, none surfet so : but 0, w* allow 

Good works as good, but out of fashion now, no 

Like old rich wardroabs : but my words none drawes 

Within the uast reach of th' huge statute jawes. 


Heading: in 1593 ms. * Sat. 2^;' Stephens* MS. * Satyra 

Lines 1-6. See introductory Note to ~ the Satires for the in- 
terlineations of 1593 MS. here, whioh correspond with 1633, 
&o. Stephens* mb., as 1633, in line 3 reads * In all ill things 
Boe excellently best ;* and line 4, * to the rest ;' line 1, the se- 
cond form is the more emphatic, viz. * perfectly all this town,* 
as '■ perfectly' follows the verb, and is not relegated to the end 
of the sentence ; is also more quaint. Line 2 : it will be no- 
ticed that in the two forms, * yet in every state,* and *yet there's 
one state,* there is a complete change of idea. ' In every state* 
means in every kingdom, and is therefore vague ; but ' there*s 
one state' means one position in this town, viz. that whioh he 
satirises, the state of Coscus. As this brings the object of the 
Satire more distinctly before us, it may be regarded as a re- 
vised emendation. The bad things he pities are, poetry on 


which there is a discnrsus, and all those things enumerated in 
11. 31-39. Line 3, the form * In all things/ &c. seems to he an 
elaboration of the other, seeing it is stronger and more neatly 
pnt, and, above all, there is that conceit of expression in it 
which was then songht after, and the antithetical apposition of 
*i\V and *best.' Farther on, line 4, as between *that* and 
'them' (as nsnally), 'that,* no donbt, refers to the state; bat 

* them' is preferable, as more subtle, becanse it is the * all ill 
things' in the state, or that go to make it np, that he says he 

Line 6. 1638 * As I thinke that . . .' So nsnally, and in Ste- 
phens' MS. ' As I think might.' 1633 is the more humorously 

Lines 7-8. I have accepted in the text the Stephens' ms. 
here. In the 1593 ms., and usually, it runs, 

It ridlingly catoh men, and doth remove.' 

1669 is ' ridlingly it.' It is just possible that ' ridlingly' may be, 
after all, the author's own word, used as in Progress of the 
Soul, st. xliv. 1. 7, 'ridling lust;' and in Donne's Paradox, vii. 

* and that ridling humour of jealonsie which seeks and would 
not find, which requires and repents his knowledge.' This makes 
me hesitate as to * killingly.' 

line 11. ' One,* Stephens' ms. reads ' Or ;' but this is an 
error, seeing the sense is not, as at first sight appears, ' their 
• state is like a Papist's, or like.' At ' hate,' 1. 10, end the gene- 
ral remarks on poetry and poets, and so I have put (.) instead of 
the usual (:). Then he says, L 11, * One [kind of, viz. the play- 
writing] poet (like, &c.) gives idiot actors means. One, the 
writer of love-poems, would more love by rhymes; another 
writes to lords for rams and slings; others write because all 
write ; and he is worst,' &c. See our Essay for a probable al- 
lusion to Shakespeare in this passage. 

Lines 12-14, * cannot rtad^ &o. Cf. our Sibbbs, under 
' break-neck verse,' for illustrations of the text. 

line 17, *rhimes:' Stephens' ms. 'rythmes:' 1633 'rithmes:' 
from Greek. 

Line 19, ' «t% ;' Stephens' ms. ' symple.' Cf . our long note 
on ' silly' in SouthwisiiL, pp. 174-6. 

Line 20, ' pistolets,* A pun = (Spanish) money, and from 
French small pistols. 

Line 22. 1633, and usually, ' like singers at doorcs.' Indif- 

20 - SATlBg II. 

fereni, except that * boys' introdiioes an oimeceMsaxy distrac- 
tion, without adding to the thought. 

Line 24. * That 'tctue :' Stephens' us. ' A 'sense.' 
„ 27. * Ranckly ;' Stephens' MS. and Harleian ics. 4955 

* Rawly.' * Rankly' is clearly an improTement on * rawly ;' and 
it may be added that, looking to the meaning of Dildo, and to 
the particular sense in which ' do' was used in that age, ' out- 
do' seems more correct than *ont8wine' (as below), besides 
being more alliterative. 

Line 32. * Dildoes :' 1633 leaves the word blank = mentula 
succedanea ; Coles and Cotgrave, t. v» In Harleian mb. 4955 
and Stephens' mb. instead, is * ontswiue'=out-pro6titute. 

Line 33, * Utany :' 1633 leayes blank. 

lb. Usually * to outsweare ;' but our ms. deletes ' to.' The 
elision of the ' to' requires the * or ontusure' to be * and ;' and, 
indeed, even with ' to,' the ' and' is preferable ; not that he 
means that each does all, but he lumps these different classes 
in one as doing him no harm. 

Line 34. 1633 supplies * of all.' 
„ 40, * great:* so Stephens' mb. 1633 and usually 'just.' 
Here * my offence' is the offence to me or in my eyes ; and 
therefore * just' is far Btronger than ' great.' 

Line 44, = [was] scarcely a poet. Could Sir John Davies 
be intended? See our Essay on this. This is rendered the 
more probable by the squib Catal. Librorum, where the 16th is 

* Justitia Anglia vacationis. So Davis, De Arte Anagramma- 
tum, &c.' At first sight, ' that' looks more correct, and so it is, 
verbally looked at ; but the lawyer state is both the main idea 
and also Cosous present, (and therefore ' this') state jollier of 
this [new] state he throws. 

Lin9 49, ' A motion, lady.' — Speake, Coscus. — * I haue . . . 
Proceede.' — Spare me — [tbis being the lady's exclamation, as 
before, and meaning ' allow me to leave']. Cf. Satire iv. 1. 143. 

Line 50. 1633 and usually * tricesimo* (as in margin). See 
our Essay for this date, and its aignificance. * In Hilary, Sbo. . . . 

Line 64, *thU:* so Stephens' hs. 1633 and usually * next.' 
She could not have said ' this,' and therefore it is better to un- 
derstand the lawyer as quoting her words, viz. * next 'size,' more 
especially when he follows it with the rest of the quotation, * In 
th* interim.* 

Line 58. As between ' A soft maid's eare' of our mb. and 


Ifae nsnal ' maid's soft ear,' the maid was not soft to him ; hot 
the inner labyrinth of the ear is most delicate, and one beanty 
of a woman's oater ear is its softness ; and Donne thns speaks 
in the revised form of the whole organ as tender. 

Line 59. 1633 ' SolaTonians :' so Stevens' ms. 
„ 63, * hotdd sole.* Onoe more I have had no difficulty 
in accepting from the Stephens' ms. * honld sole' for * bold sools! 
of 1593 and asnally, which seems meaningless. Query, is it a 
slip for ' foule' ? 

Lines 69-70. This oonplet left Uank in 1633, and so U. 74-5. 
„ 71. 1633 and usually * wring:' Stephens' ms. and Har- 
leian ms. 4955 ' wrung.' I do not know the carrier's or ostler's 
phrase ' wring to the bar,' but I take it that * bar' has here the 
double sense of bar and bar of a court of justice ; that * wring' 
is used in a combination of its senses of twist and pinch ; and 
that the meaning is, that he twists dose up to the bar, and 
squeezes as close as a wedge in wood the bearing-like Asses 
his clients, and to the judge lies, &o. 

Line 75, 'and:* Stephens' ms. *nor.' 
„ 78, *3rottfU'= Mount St. Michael, Land's End, Corn- 
wall. He seems to omit all the Irish Channel coast as not 
compassed by a sea. » 

Line 79, * gluttony:* so Stephens' ms. : 1633 and usually 
' luxurie.' As between ' gluttony' and * luxury' the latter is by 
far the more general, and therefore the more appropriate term ; 
for heirs were not supposed to get rid of their estates by mere 
gluttony, a vice of older age, but by debancheiy generally ; 
and the especial sense in which luxury was frequently then 
used, and which the mere mention of the word would bring up, 
agrees best with the word ' melting,' whether applied to their 
estates or to themselves : ' lean as a rake' is an old saying. 

Line 82, *droppinge»*=:=ihB present drippings [from roast 

lb. ' snt^fe,* Judging by the examples given, I do not see 
tfae difference between Johnson's second sense, *the useless 
excrescence of a candle,' and his fourth, * the fired wick.' But 
his example from Donne, 

* For ey«n at flrat life's taper la a Mtf/T,' 

is properly an example of sense third : * A candle almost burnt 
out.' And the derivation of the word, and its use in the pre- 
sent passage, show that it meant the ' droppings from a candle, 


the reBolt of guttering ; inclasiTe, probably, of the candle-end 
embedded in the outspread mass.* It was probably from the 
candle-end thus fonning one with the tme snnff, and becoming 
a part of the kitchen-maid's prerogative, that * snaff* came, in 
a secondary sense, to mean a candle-end nearly burnt oat. 

line 84, * geare :' so Stephens' xs. : 1669 * chear :' 1633 
' Beliqnely.' 

Line 86, ' Wringing* =z twisting ont, extorting. 

lb. * prime ;' Stephens' mb. reads *as men pnlling for prime.' 
' Prime,' in primero, is a winning hand of different snits [with 
probably certain limitations as to the nnmbers of the cards, 
since there were different primes] , different to and of lower 
value than a flush or hand of [four] cards of the same suit. 
The game is now unknown, but from such notices as we have, 
it would seem that one could stand on their hands, or, as in 
6cart6 and other games, discard and take in others (see Nares, 
8, v.). From the words of our text, the fresh cards were not 
dealt by the dealer, but ' pulled' by the player at hazard, and 
the delays of maidish indecision can be readily understood; 
albeit, as above, the Stephens' ms. substitutes * men' for ' maids* 
— ^the latter probably our author's later correction. 

Line 87, *kis ;' usuaUy * the ;' the latter our author's revision, 
seeing the fields when the parchments were drawn were not 
' his,' but the heir's. 

Line 91. The usual verbal form 'written' as opposed to 
' writings' of our mb. is neater, because it agrees better with 
the verb form in previous clause, * he writes.' 

Line 96, * Poir'r and Glory :' close of the Lord's Prayer, ' for 
Thine is the Kingdom and the Power and the Glory.' 

Line 98, * hit heyres ;' in 1693 us., Lansdowne xs. 7iO, and 
printed editions, * tes heyres ;' but I accept * his heyres' from 
Stephens' hb. and Harleian 4955. 

Line 99, *A8 :' 1593 mb. misreads *And:' I accept * As' of 1633. 
„ 105. Our MB. reads ' great halls,' but that doesn't scan : 

Line 107, ' Meanes bles [t] . As between the text of our 
MB. and ' Mean's blcFS,' means then, as now, meant riches, pos- 
sessions, but never the mean or middle. * Mean' is here the 
middle between waete and avarice, and he explains the means 
a mean corresponding to one's station, by In rich men's, &c. 

Line 112, 'jaweg :' I prefer this reading to * lawes' of the 
MS. Cf. Sat. iv. line 132. G. 


Kind pity choakes my spleen ; braue scorne forbids 

Those teares to issue w* swell my eye-lids. 

I must not laugh nor weepe sinnes, but be wyse : 

Can layling then cure these wome malladyes ? 

Is not ower Mistris, fayre Religion, 5 

As worthy of ower sowles deuotion, 

As Vertu was to the first blinded Age ? 

Ar not Heauen's ioyes as valient to assuage 

Lusts, as earth*s honnor was to them ? Alasse, 

As we doe them in means, shall they surpasse * 10 

Ys in the end 1 And shall thy father^s spirit 

Meete blinde philosophers in Heauen, whose merrit 

Of strict lyfe may be imputed fayth, and heare 

The[e], whome he taught so easy wayes and neere 

To follow, damm'd ? O, if thow darst, feare this : 15 

This feare great courage, and high vallor is. 

Dar'st thow ayde mutinous Dutch ? and darst thou laye 

The[e] in ships, wooden sepulchers, a praye 

To leaders rage, to Stormes, to Shott, to dearth? 

Dar'st thow diue Seas, and daungers of the Earth? 20 

Hast thow couragious fyer to thaw the Ice 

Of frozen North-discoueryes ; and, — thryce 


Colder then Sallamanders — like deuine 

Children in the Ouen — ^fyers of Spayne and the Ijre- 

Whose cuntryes, Limbecks to ower bodeyes bee — 25 
Can^fit thou for gayne beare f and must euery hee 
Which cryes not, goddes, to thy Mistris, drawe, 
Or eate thy poysonous wordes 1 Courage of straive ! 
Oh desperate Coward, wilt thow seeme bold, and 
To thy foes and his who made the[e] to stand 30 

Sowldyer in this world*s garrison, thus yeeld, 
And for forbid warres leane the appointed feeldet 
Know thy foes : The fowle deaell whome thow 
Striuest to please, for hate, not lone, would allowe 
The[e] fayne his whole relme to be ridd ; and as 55 
The wo[r]ld's all parts, wither away and passe, 
So the wo[r]ld's selfe thy other lou*d foe, is 
In her deerepid wayne, and thou, louing this, 
Doest love a witherd and wome strumpet ; last 39 
Flesh (it selfe's Death), and ioyes which flesh can tast. 
Thou louest ; and thy fayre goodly sowle, which doth 
Giue this flesh power to tast ioy^ thow dost lothe. 
Seeke trew Religion : oh whear? Mireus, 
Thinking her vnhows'd heere, and fled from vs, 
Seekee her at Koome ; Ther, becaus he doth know 45 
That she was thear a Thousand yeare agoe ; 
He loues her ragges, so as we heere obey 
The state-cloth wher the prince sat yesterday. 
Grants to sutch braue loues will not bee enthrald, 
But loues her onely, who at Gcneua is caFd 50 

SATIIiB 111. 25 

Religion — playne, simple, sullen, yonge, 
Contemptuous, yet vnhansom ; as amouge 
Leecherous humors, there is one w*** judges 
Noo wenches liolsom but course Cuntry drudges. 
Grayus stays still at home heere, and becaus 5 5 

Sum Preachers, vyle ambitious Baudes, and Lawes 
Still new, like fashons, bid him thinke that she 
Which dwels w^ vs, is onely perfect, hee with 

Embraceth her whome his Godfathers will 
Tender to him, beeing tender ; as wardes still 60 

Take sutch wives as their Gardens offer, or guardians 
Paye values. Careles Phrygius d6th abhorr 
All, becaus all cannot be good, as one, 
Knowing sum women whores, dares marry none. 
Graccus loues all as one, and thinks y^ soe 65 

As women doe in diuers countries goe. 
In diuers habits, yet ar still one kind. 
So doth, so is, Keligion ; and this bl ind- 
ues too mutch light breedes. But unmoud thou 
Of force must one, and forct but one allow, 70 

And the right ; Aske thy father W^** is she ; 
Let him aske his : Though trewth and falshood bee 
Nere Twinnes, yet trewth a litell elder is. 
Bee busy to seeke her ; beleeue me this, 
Hee is not of none, nor worst, w*^ seek's the best : 75 
To adore, or scome an Image, or protest, 
May all be bad : doubt wysely ; In strange waye 
To stand enquyering right, is not to straye ; 

VOL. I. E 


To sleepe, or runne wronge, h ; on a huge Hill, 79 

Raggued and steepe, Trewth dwells ; and he, that will 

Reache her, abought must, and abought it goo, go 

And what the HOrs suddaynes resists, winne soo. so 

Yet stry ve so, that brfore Age, Death's twy light, 

Thy mynd rest^ for none can worke in y' night. 

To will implyes delay, therfore now doe : 85 

Hard deedes the bodyes paynes ; hard knowledge to 

The mind's endeuors reatch ; And misteryes 

Are like the Sunne, dazeling, yet playne to all eyse. 

Keepe y* trewth w^ thow hast fownd. Men do not stand 

In so euell ease that God hath w^ his hand with 90 

Sign'd Kinges' blank-Charters, To kill whome they hate, 

Nor ar th'y viccars, but Ha[n]gmen to fate. they 

Foole and wretch, wilt thow let thy Sowle be tyed 

To man's Lawes, by w** she shall not be tryed 

At the last day ; Oh will it then serue thee 95 

To saye, — a Phillip or a Gregorye, 

A Harry or a Martin, taught the[e] this ? 

Is not this excuse for meere contraryes. 

Equally strong ? cannot both sydes say soe ? 

That thow mayest rightly obey Power, her bounds knowe ; 

Those past, her Nature and name is chaunged ; to bee 

Then humble to her, is Idolatrye. 102 

As atreames are, Power is; Those blest flowers w*^ 

At the rough streame's calme head, thiyue and proue * 




But haaing left tber rootes, and them selues giuen 105 
To the streame's tiranous rage, alas, are driuen 
T[h]rough Mills, Eocks, and Woods, and at last, almost 
Consumed in going, in the sea ar lost : 
Soe peijsh sowles, which more choose mens vnjust 
Power, from God claym'd, then God him selfe to trust. 


Heaaing : in 1593 vs. ' Sat. 3 :* Stephens' ms. * Satyra Ter- 
tia :' see introdnetory Note on the Satires on the ms. of this 

Line Ir^choakesr 1639 'checks:' 1669 * cheeks:' Stephens' 
MB. ' oheckes.* As hetween * choaks' and * checks,' pity not 
merely * choaks' it in the throat, hat * checks' it in its origin. 
He neither dissemhles it nor keeps it down, hut * checks.' 

lb. * tpleen :' used in several senses in those days. Here, 
from the context (line 8), it wonld seem to mean splenetic 

Line 8, ' htU:* Stephens' ms. ' and,' and line 4 * May.' 
„ 6, *aU;' this is nsnally and properly dropped, as it 
throws the accents all wrong ; . and as in the preyious line we 
have * Belig|ion|,' so we most have * deYo|tion|,' not de|yotion|. 

Line 7, * K^rtu' = yirtns, yalonr, as shown by * blinded' and 
by ' earth's honour' (line 9). Our ms. reads wrongly * blind.' 

Line 14. Usually * so easy wayes.' Our ms. * taught wayes 
easy:' usually (as we give) *so easy wayes:' without the *80,' 
and * easy wayes* would make the line unscanable, seeing ' near' 
cannot he made a dissyllable at the end of a line. * Neare'=at 
hand, therefore not troublesome or laborious. 

Line 20, ^daungers:* so Stephens' ms.: 1638 and usually 
'dungeons:' 'dongions' in Lansdowne ms. 740. Badly 'his' 
for ' this.* Perhaps ' dungeons' is the preferable word, as the 
context seems to show the reference is to mines. 

Lines 23-4, * deuine Children in the Ouen,'' Cf . Daniel iii 19- 
25 = the heats of the tropics and the artilleiy of Spain, that 
claimed those seas and countries. 


Line SI, *Sowldyer:* bo Btepfaens* MS.: 1633 and nsnally 
* Beniinell.' 

Line 38, *fo€t,* 1633 ' foe :' but three foes are named. See 
lines 37-40. 

Line 36, * ridd:* nsnally and in Stephens* MS. * quitt.* The 
latter apparently used in a sense not attributed to it in diction- 
aries. To be free of, that is, to be free as a naturalised subject 
to go through and enjoy his realm. If Johnson*s second mean? 
ing were altered to — [make us] set free, it would include this, 
and probably be more correct Donne, however, omits * of,* 
just as his contemporaries used other verbs without a pre- 

Line 45, * Roome ;* the old pronunciation still occasionally 
met with, as by Earl RusselL 

Line 49, * GranU ;* 1633 ' Grants,* and usually so. It is 
curious that such a name as Grants ('33, '35) or Grants ('69) 
should intervene between the classical -sonnding names Mir- 
reus. Grains, and Phrygius. Gan it be from Granze or Grenze, 
boundaiy or limit, in allusion to the puritanic limits within 
which they withdrew themselves, and placed between them- 
selves and others? Mirreus is probably Myrrheus= perfumed 
with myrrh. 

Line 61, ^niUen.'* So Shakespeare, * bright metal on a itUlen 
ground' (1 Henry IV. i. 2). Here = unsocial. 

Line 57, * hid:' usually but erroneously * bids.' The nomi- 
native is doubly plural, * Some preachers . . . and lawes.' 

Line 61, ' wives ;' in 1593 ms. miswritten * wayes.' 
,, 62, ^ Paye vahtes,'' A curious law, of which I can find 
no record = pay a fine. * Phrygius:' 1633 and usually 'Phry- 
gius.' Though our ms. gives ' Prigas,' the word is determined 
by the previous * Grains' to be a Phiygian or Trojan, and there- 
fore * Phi^gius.' The scribe must have blundered over the ms. 
he copied. I retain * Phrygius' accordingly. 

Line 64, * dares ;' Stephens' ijs. ' will.' 
„ 66-69. See introductory Note to the Satires for inter- 
lineations here in 1593 ms. I reject * in dduenfashons goe,' for 
the usual ' countries.' 

Line 70, ' hut one.' Stephens' ms. ' must one.' 
„ 78, * straye.' In 1593 ms. ' staye,' but I accept * straye' 
from 1633. 

Line 79, * huge ;' Stephens* ms. * high.' 
„ 80, * Ruggxied: 1633 ' Cragg'd,' which is far stronger 


and better : and ' stands' for * dwells,' the latter in Stephens' 
MS. and preferable. 

Line 81. m s. ' it ;' ib. * her ;' the latter adopted by us ; and 
I also accept ' it goe,' instead of with onr ms. deleting it. 

Line 84, * mynd,^ usaally * sonl.' As he is speaking of the 
intelligential power generally, ' sonl' is perhaps the better word 
here, though I follow the ms. of 1598 : ' that night :' so Ste- 
phens' MS. 

Lines 85-6. Snpply * do,' or as it were rednplicate it — now 
doe [do] Hard deeds. But ' too' of ms. is a mispelling, or a 
misleading spelling. 

Line 90, * euell :' 1633 and usually ' ill.' Gf . note on * evil' 
as read * ilV in our Southwell (page 45). But I do not accept 
' heere' of the ms. of 1593 before * that,' being superfluous, and 
therefore weakening to sense and scansion. So too in line 91, 
* charts' of the ms. makes the line defectiye : rejected. 

Line 91, = sign'd blank charters [to] kings, &c.; nor are 
such kings as kill those who differ from them yicars of Fate or 
Proyidence, but her hangmen. 

Line 94, * man's :' so usually ; in our ms. ' men's.' ' Men's' 
might be in opposition to other men's laws ; * man's' laws must 
be opposed to the laws of something not man : * man's' adopted 
by us. 

Line 95, *8erue:* so Stephens' ms. : 1683 *boot.' As be- 
tween * boot' and ' seme,' the former is=benefit, and signifies 
something added, as in booty; and as the plea of the just is the 
added merits of Christ, * boot' may be reckoned preferable. 

Lines 96-7. Philip [Melancthon] , Gregory [the Great, or 
Gregory of Nazianzen], Harry [the Eighth] , Martin [Luther] . 

Line 97, * thee:' 1669 *me' — and perhaps the latter more 
emphatic, as giving the quotation of the speaker. 

Line 101, *is:' sometimes 'name's,' and sometimes 'are.' 
As they are distinct things (Nature and name), and cannot be 
taken as one collective noun, * are' is certainly more accurate. 

Line 102, * Then.' 1698 ms. miswrites * them :' Stephens' 
MS. * Then.' 

Line 104, *proue:' so Stephens' ms. : 1633 ' do. G. 


Well ; I may now receive, and die. My sin 
Indeed is great, but yet I have been in 
A Purgatory, sucb as fear'd hell is 
A recreation, and scant map of this. 
My mind, neither with pride's itch, nor yet hath been 
Poyson'd with love to see, or to be seen ; 6 

I had no suit there, nor new suit to shew, 
Yet went to Court. But as Glare, which did go 
To Mass in jest, catch'd, was fain to disburse 
The hundred marks, which is the Statute^s curse, lo 
Before he 'scap*t ; So 't pleas'd my destiny 
((xuilty of my sin of going) to think me 
As prone to all ill, and of good as forget- 
full, as proud, lustful, and as much in debt. 
As vain, as witless, and as false as they 1 5 

Which dwel in Court, for once going that way. 
Therefore I suffered this ; Towards me did run 
A thing more strange, than on Nile's slime, the Sun 
E'r bred, or all which into Noah's Ark came : 
A thing which would have pos'd Adam to name : 20 
Stranger than seven Antiquaries' studies, 
Than Africk's Monsters, Guianse's rarities, 

SATlRfi IV. 31 

Stranger than strangest : One who for a Dane 

In the Dane's Massacre had sure been slain, 

If he had liv'd then ; and without help dies 25 

When next the Prentices 'gainst Strangers rise : 

One whom the watch at noon lets scarce go by ; 

One, to whom the examining Justice sure would cry, 

Sir, by your Priesthood, tell me what you are. 

His clothes were strange, thoiigb coarse, and black, 

though bare ; 30 

Sleeveless his jerkin was, and it had been 
Velvet, but 't was now (so much ground was seen) 
Become Tufftafiaty ; and our children shall 
See it plain Rash a while, then nought at all. 
The thing hath travail'd, and, saith [he] speaks all 

tongues, 35 

And only knoweth what t' all States belongs. 
Made of th' Accents and best phrase of all these, 
He speaks one language. If strange meats displease, 
Art can deceive, or hunger force my tast ; 
But Pedant's motley tongue, souldier's bumbast, 40 
Mountebank's drug-tongue, nor the termes of law. 
Are strong enough preparatives to draw 
Me to hear this, yet I must be content 
With his tongue, in his tongue call'd Complement ; 
In which he can win widows, and pay scores, 45 

Make men speak treason, couzen subtlest whores, 
Out-flatter favorites, or outlie either 
Jovius or Surius, or both together. 

32 8AT1RB IV. 

He names me, and comes to me : I whinper, ' God, 

How have I sinn'd, that Thy wrath's furious rod, 50 

This fellow, chuseth me V He sait^, ' Sir, 

I love your judgment ; whom do you prefer, 

For the best Linguist V and I seellily 

Said that I thought Calepine's Dictionary. 

' Nay, b.ut of men, moat sweet Sirf Beza, then, 55 

Some Jesuits, and two reverend men 

Of our two Academies I named ; here 

He stopt me, and said : ^ Nay, your Apostles were 

Good pretty Linguists ; so Panurgus was 

Yet a poor Gentleman ; all these may pass. 60 

But travail :' then, as if he would have soiild 

His tongue, he praised it, and such wonders told. 

That I was fain to say, ' If you had liv*d. Sir, . 

Time enough to have been Interpreter 

To Babers bricklayers, sure the Tower had stood."* 65 

He adds, * If of Court-life you knew the good. 

You would leave loneness.' I said, * Not alone 

My loneness is ; but Spartane's fashion. 

To teach by painting drunkards, doth not last 

Now ; Aretine's pictures have made few chast ; 70 

No more can Princes' Courts, though there be few 

Better pictures of vice, teac^ me vertue.* 

He, like to a high-stretcht Lute-string, squeakt, ' Sir, 

'Tis sweet to talk of Kings.* * At Westminster,* 

Said I, * the man that keeps the Abby tombs, 75 

And for his price doth, with whoever comef?, 


Of all our Harrys, and our Edwards talk, 
From King to King, and all their kin can walk : 
Your eares shall hear nought but Kings ; your eyes meet 
Kings only ; The way to it is King's street.' 80 

He smack'd, and cr/d, 'He's base, mechanique, course ; 
So are all your English men in their discourse/ [coane 

* Are not your French men neat V * Mine ] as you see, 
I have but one, Sir ; look, he follows me. 

Certes, they are neatly doath'd.' ' I, of this mind am, 
Your only wearing is your Grogaram.* 86 

* Not so. Sir, I have more.' Under this pitch 
He would not fty. I chafd him ; But as itch 
Scratch'd into smart, and as blunt Iron grownd ground 
Into an edge, hurts worse ; So I (fool !) found 90 
Crossing hurt me. To fit my sullenness. 

He to another key his stile doth dress ; 

And asks, what news ) I tell him of new playes : 

He takes my hand, and, as a Still which stayes 

A semibrief 'twixt each drop, he niggardly, 95 

As loath to inrich me, so tells many a ly. 

More than ten Hollensheads, or Halls, or Stows, 

Of trivial houshold trash. He knows : he knows 

When the queen frownd or smil'd ; and he knows what 

A subtile Statesman may gather of that : 100 

He knows, who loves whom ; and who by poyson 

Hasts to an Office's reversion : 

He knows who 'hath sold his land, and now doth beg 

A Ucense, old iron, boots, shoos, and egge- 

VOL. 1. F 


shells to transport ; Shortly boyes shall not play 105 

At span-counter or blow-point, but shall pay 

Toll to some Courtier ; and wiser then all us, than 

He knows what Lady is not painted. Thus 

He with home-meats cloyes me. I belch, spue, spit, 

Look pale and sickly, like a Patient, yet no 

He thrusts on more ; And as he had undertook 

To say Gallo-Belgicus without book, 

Speaks pf all States and deeds, that have been since 

The Spanyards came to the loss of Amyens. 

Like a big wife, at sight of loathkl meat, 1 1 5 

Eeady to travail ; so I sigh, and sweatu 

To hear this Makaron talk ; in vain, for yet, 

Either my humour, or his own to fit, 

He like a priviledg'd spie, whom nothing can 

Discredit, libels now 'gainst each great man. 120 

He names a price for every office paid ; 

He saith, our wars thrive ill, because delai'd ; 

That offices are intailed, and that there are 

Perpetuities of them, lasting as far 

As the last day ; and that great officers 125 

Do with the Pirates share and Dunkirkers. 

Who wasts in meat, in cloaths, in horse, he notes ; 

Who loves Whores, who boyes, and who goats. 

I, more amaz'd than Circe's prisoners, when 

They felt themselves turn beasts, felt myself then 130 

Becoming Traytor, and metliought I saw . 

One of our Giant Statutes ope his jaw 


To suck me in ; for heanng him, I found 

That as burnt venomous Leachers do grow sound 

By giving others their soars, I might grow sores 135 

Guilty, and he free : Therefore I did show 

All signes of loathing ; But since I am in, 

I must pay mine and my forefatheis* sin 

To the last farthing. Therefore to my power 

Toughly and stubbornly I bear this cross ; but the hower 

Of mercy now was come : He tries to bring 141 

Me to pay a fine to 'scape his torturing, 

And sayes, * Sir, can you spare me ?* I said, * willingly.' 

* Nay, Sir, Can you spare me a crown V Thankfully I 

Gave it, as Ransom : but as fidlers still, 145 

Though they be paid to be gone, yet needs will 

Thrust one more jig upon you ; so did he 

With his long complemental thanks vex me. 

But he is gone, thanks to his needy want. 

And the Prerogative of my Crown : Scant 150 

His thanks were ended, when I (which did see 

All the Court fiU'd with such strange things as he) 

Ran from thence with such or more haste than one. 

Who fears more actions, doth hast from prison. 

At home in wholesom solitarine^ 155 

My piteous soul began the wretchedness 

Of suiters at Court to mourn, and a trance 

Like his who dream't he saw hell, did advance 

Itself o're me : Such men as he saw there, 

I saw at Court, and worse, and more. Low fear 160 

36 8AT1RE IV. 

Becomes the guilty, not the accuser: Then ^ • 

Shall I, none['8] slave, of high bom or rais'd men, 

Feeir frowns, and my Mistress, Truth, betray thee 

To th' huffing braggart, puft Nobility) 

No, no. Thou, which since yesterday hast been 165 

Almost about the whole world, hast thou seen, 

O Sun, in all thy journey, Vanity 

Such as swells the bladder of our Court 1 I 

Think, he which made your waxen garden, and 

Transported it from Italy, to stand 170 

With us at London, flouts our Courtiers, for 

Just such gay painted things, which no sap nor 

Ta«t have in them, ours are ; and natural 

Some of the stocks are, their fruits bastard alL 

'Tis ten a clock and past ; all whom the Hues, Mews 

Baloun, Tennis, Diet, or the stews 176 

Had all the morning held, now the second 

Time made ready, that day in flocks are found 

In the Presence, and I, (God pardon me.) 

As fresh and sweet their Apparels be, as be 180 

The fields they sold to buy them. * For a King 

Those hose are,' cry the flatterer ; And bring 

Them next week to the Theatre to sell. 

Wants reach all states. Meseems they do as well 

At stage, as Court ; All are players ; whoe'r looks 185 

(For themselves dare not go) o*r Cheapside Books,^ 

Shall find their wardrobe's Inventory. Now 

The Ladies come. As Pirats which do know 



That there came weak ships fraught with Cutchanel, 

The men board them ; and praise (as they think) well 

Their beauties ; they the men^ wits ; both are bought. 

Why good wits ne'r wear scarlet gowns, I thought 

This cause : These men, mens' wits for speeches buys 

And women buy all reds, which scarlets die. 

He call'd her beauty lime-twigs, her hair net ; 195 

She fears her drugs ill layd, her hair loose set. 

Would not Heraclitus laugh to see Macrine 

From hat to shoo, himself at door refine, 

As if the Presence were a Moschite ; and lift 

His skirts and hose, and call his clothes to shrift, 200 

Making them confess not only mortal 

Great stains and holes in them, but venial 

Feathers and dust, wherewith they fornicate : 

And then by Durer's rules survey the state 

Of his each limb, and with strings the odds tries 205 

Of his neck to his leg, and waist to thighs. 

So in immaculate clothes and Symmetry 

Perfect as Cireles, with such nicety 

As a young Preacher at his first time goes 

To preach, he enters ; and a Lady, which owes 210 

Him not so much as good-will, he arrests, 

And unto her protests, protests, protests ; 

So much as at Rome would serve to have thrown 

Ten Cardinals into the Inquisition ; 

And whispers by Jesu, so often, that a '215 

Pursevant would have ravish'd him away, 


For saying of onr Ladies' Psalter. But 'tis fit 

That they each other plague, they merit it. 

But here comes Glorious, that will plague them both, 

Who in the other extreme only doth 220 

Call a rough carelessness, good fashion ; 

Whose eloak his spurs tear, or whom he spits on, 

He cares not, he. His ill words do no harm 

To him, he rushes in, as if arm, arm. 

He meant to cry ; And though his face he as ill 225 

As theirs, whi<;h in old hangings whip Christ, still 

He strives to look worse, he keeps all in awe ; 

Jests like a licensed fool, commands like law. 

Tyr*d now I leave this place, and hut pleas'd so 

As men from jails t' execution go, 230 

Gro through the great chamber (why is it hung 

With the seven deadly sins ?) being among 

Those Ascaparts, men big enough to throw 

Charing-Cross for a bar, men that do know 

No token of worth, but Queen's man, and fine 235 

Living, — ^barrels of beef, and flagons of wine, — 

I shook like a spied Spie. Preachers, which are 

Seas of Wit and Arts, you can then dare 

Drown the sins of this place, for, for me. 

Which am but a scant brook, it enough shall be 240 

To wash the stains away : Although I yet 

(With Machabee's modesty) the known merit 

Of my work lessen ; yet some wise men shall, 

I hope, esteem my writs Canonical. 



As stated in introdaotory Note to the Satires, our text of 
the remainder is that of 1669 (on which see onr Preface) ; bat 
in the following Notes and Illastrations, as thronghont, yarions- 
readings &o. are recorded from mss. and other editions. 

Heading: in 1669 'Satyre lY.:' Stephens' ms. 'Salyra 

line 1, *receiYe*=the Holy Gommnnion. 

6, * Glare:' 1633 * Glaze:' Stephens' xs. blank. 
10, ' Statute's curse' = fine or penalty. 
„ 18, * Nile's slime,' See onr note on this in our Mabyell. 

lb. * strange f* used as in the later Ant. and Gleop., so that 
Donne and Shakespeare probably drew from the same sonrce : 
perhaps Pliny. Besides the strangeness of their origin, strange 
tales were told of their affection one for the other, and of their 
spirit of revenge; and PUny, in addition, says, 'Philarchns 
telleth a strange history of it:' how a tame asp, * finding that one 
of its yonng had bitten the child of the master of the honse 
and killed it, killed its yonng one in satisfaction, and also for- 
bare the house, and was never knowne to repaire thither againe' 
(Holland's Pliny). Donne uses ' strange' again in Epistle, to 
Earl of Doncaster : 

' BegetB Mtranffe oreatores on Nile's durty dime.' 

Line 28, * strangest,' I accept this from Stephens' ms., in 
preference to * strangers,' as usually. 

line 24, ' Dane's Massacre,' Ethelred made peace with and 
paid tribute to the invading Danes, and ordered a massacre of 
them on St. Brioe's-day, 13th November 1002. 

line 26. The Londoners from jealousies of trade rose 
against foreigners on what was called afterwards Evil May- 
day 1517. 

Line 33, * Tufftaffaty , . . Rash :' Nothing more seems to 
be known of these silk stuffs except that they were cheaper 
than velvet, and that as appears from this, Tufflaffkty had 
some flufflness, while Rash was ras6 or smooth. 

Line 35, * he :' I have inserted * he' from Harleian ms. 4955. 
„ 40, *&tim6a«f'= bombast. From French. Gf. Thomas 
Wright's Provincial Dictionary, s, v. 


Line 48, *he«r:' 1688 *beare/ 
„ 48, * Joviui:^ PanloB Jovins, an Italian who wrote a 
History of his own times (1488, 1552). 

lb. * Suriut :' I know not the reference here. 

Line 54, ' CaUpine't Dietionary,^ A polyglot dictionary hy 
Ambrogio Calepino, an Italian philologist, who died NoTember 
80th, 1511. 

Line 66, * two reverend :' Stephens* ms. reads * two other 

Line 57, ' Academies.'' Qnery=the UniYersities (of Oxford 
and Cambridge) ? 

Line 59, * Panurgus,' of Rabelais* immortaUty : 1688 * Pan- 

Line 61, * Bat :* nsnslly and wrongly * By :' so too Stephens* 


lb. * soald :* a proyerbial saying nsed by Shakespeare (Son. 
xxi.), *I will not praise that porpose not to sell;' and again, 
Troilns and Cress, iv. 1. 

Line 62, ' wonders :* 1688 badly, * words.' 
„ 67, *■ loneneu:* 1638 * lonelinesse,' and so in next line. 
„ 68, * Spartane's fashion,^ Lyoorgns made prohibitory 
laws against commerce, and forbad travelling, that the Spartan 
polity and simplicity might continue unaltered. 

Line 69, * Uut .' Stephens' m s. ' do not tast.' 
„ 70, * Now ;' Stephens* ms. * Nor.* 

Ibid. ' Aretine^t pieturei,* Aretine*s yerses would haye been 
more correct. The designs were after paintings by Ginlio Ro- 
mano, for which he was exiled from Rome and lost the Pope*s 
fayoor. Pietro Aretino, an Italian satirist, a man as profligate 
in life and writings as those he satirised, wrote yerses to ac- 
company the designs. 

Line 78, *wa2fc'=rcan walk from, &c. 
„ 81, * smacked,* I am not aware of a similar nse of 
this word. It seems to mean, made some interjectional sound 
of contempt ; such is the original of chat, tut, tush, &o. 

Line 83, *'neat :^ nsed yarionsly, as = nice, exact; also = 
clean, spotless. 

Ibid. * Mine :' 1683 * Fine :' Lansdowne ms. 740 reads ' Are 
not yo' Frenchmen neat, fine as yo^ seef with *mine* in 
margin. I place (?) after * Mine,* as in 1689. The following 
seems the distribution of this dialogue : ' Are not .... neat ?* 
The Macaron : * Mine ? . . . oloath'd.* Donne : * I of . . . Gro- 


garam/ The Macaron : * Not bo, sir ; I have more, Donne.' 
lake Marvell in his * Flecnoe/ Donne misinterprets every sent- 
ence the other speaks. 

line 84. 1633 inserts ' Frenchmen' aftei* * one ;' so Harleian 
MS. 4956. 

line 86, ' Your Qrogaram :* Stephens' lis. * this.' * Groga- 
ram,* Fr. gros-grain=Bilk of a large or coarse thread. 

Line 87 et seqq. The distrihntion of speeches is, as hefore, 
somewhat nncertain ; hut prohaUy as follows : ' Are . . . neat V 
is Donne — * Mine? .... doathed' his persecutor — * I of ... . 
Grogaram.' Donne's sarcasm on the lackey's dress : ' Not so, 
sir ['tis not the only snit I have for him] ; I have more,' the 
Maoaroa's reply. 

Line 87, ^ pitch' = the height to which a hawk soars ; and 
Donne says nnder this height to which I soared to swoop, he 
my qnany would not rise, hat kept himself enmewed, or in 

Line 88, * ehafd^^ not * chaff 'd,' as there is no example of 
the nse of * chaff 'd' in those days in our present slang sense. 

Line 97, * HoUensheads' [=HaphaelHolinshed]; Halls [ = 
Edward HaU] ; Stows [=John Stowe.] 

Line 106, * tpan-eounter :* 'A puerile g%me, supposed to be 
thus played: one throws a counter or piece of money, which 
the other wins, if he can throw another so as ta hit it or 116 
within a span of it.' So Strutt ; but I rather think it a game 
still played by boys, when they, directly or by rebound, endea- 
vour to play their button or marble into a hole. 

Ibid. * blow-point :' supposed to be the same as dust- point. 
Weber vaguely surmises that it has to do with blowing dust out 
of a hole, and Nares as vaguely that it resembles push-pin ; but 
nothing is known, except that it was a rustic or schoolboys' or 
pages' gambling game. See Nares, s. v. 

Line 111, 'on:' Stephens' ms. *me:' *had,' 1633 'if.' 
„ 112. ' GaUo-Belgieiu :' an annual and then bi-annnal 
register of news, first published at Cologne in 1598. See 
Donne's Epigram on it. 

Line 114, * loss of Amyens :' * since the Spaniards came' 
probably means the year of the Armada (1588). They sur- 
prised Amiens 11th March 1597 ; and as no mention is made 
of its recovery by Henry lY. in September of the same year, it 
is not improbable that the Satire was written between those 
dates, or at all events in that year. This is the more likely, 

VOL. I. G 


ae satires were then becoming fashionable. Doni^e, Hall, and 
Marston wrote them. Ben Jonson wrote his ' Comical* Satires ;* 
and as plays mnst be the reflex of their times, the ' gentle' 
Shakespeare gave them some good-natnred satire from the 
month of Jaqaes in 1598-9, and in the person of the Duke sa- 
tirises the satirist most severely (*As You like it,' act ii. sc. 6). 
Shakespeare's only other satirical play, ' Timon,' is of much 
later date; but it is probable that the original drama was a 
new play in 1598. In Skialetheia (1598) one epigram speaks 
of ' hateman Timon in his cell ;' and in Jack Dunn's Entertain- 
ment he is again familiarly alluded to. Now it can be proved 
that Jack Dunn was partly written by Marston, and formed one 
of the series that enraged Jonson, and was quoted by him in 
his Poetaster in 1601. 

Line 117, * Makaron.' Nares states that persons of a cer- 
tain age remember the word macearoni having been adopted in 
the sense of a first-rate coxcomb, or puppy, or the now tem- 
porary appellation ' dandy.' He, therefore, and Todd give it 
in this passage, and in R. B.'s [query, Richard Brome's ?] Elegy 
on Donne, the sense of an affected busy-body. But Florio 
gives ' Maccarone, a gull, a lubby [looby], a loggar-head that 
can doe nothing but eat Macearoni ;' and Vaugon shows that 
this sense is still preserved in the saying, * Piu grosso che 
r acqua de' maccheroni,' spoken, he says, of a man ' scimunito 
[foolish or stupid] e di poco intelletto.' * Makaron' is also used 
by Donne in Preface to his Progress of the Soul. 

Line 126, * Dunkirkers^ =ilie buccaneers of the English seas. 

„ 132, * Giant statues^ is in Stephens' mb. ; but usually 

' statutes.* As * statute* was then one form of * statue,' a pun 

is probably intended, and allusion made to the London Gog 

and Magog. 

LineB 134-6 left blank in 1633. 
„ 135. A belief which still causes crime and disease : 
crime because the belief is that the innocent sufferer should, 
whether male or female, be a virgin. 

Line 141, * mercy :^ Stephens' mb. 'redemption.' 
152, *a*;» 1633 • then' = than. 
158, * like him who dream* t he saw helV=^DAimE. 
164. I accept * braggarts,' and the punctuation given, 
for 'huffing, braggart.* Two classes here correspond to the 
other two of 1. 162, high-bom and raised men. 

Line 169, 'your:^ Stephens' mb. 'the;* 1. 170, 'transported,' 


"■» I.- V- 


ib. 'transplanted;* 1. X,71, 'coartiers,* Haslewood-Kingsborough 
us. * court here.* 

Ibid. * waxen garden' =^ihe now common waxwork exhibi- 

Line 170, * stand,* In Lansdowne us. 740 ' stand' is can- 
celled, and rewritten in another hand ' Strand.* 

Line 171, * Courtiers :' 163S * Presence.* 
„ 176, ' Baloun.* Probably the ancient follist and, ex- 
icept in one respect, the modem football ; a game in which a 
football ball was struck with the arm, armed with a wooden 
bracer, described, as in Italy, in the form of a shield studded 
with wooden points. 

Line 176, 'Dt>£:* the restrictions in diet consequent on 
visiting the place of resort next mentioned. 

Line 178, * are :* so Stephens* us. : usually * were.' 
„ 179. Stephens* us. * am I ?' 
„ 180, 'be:' Stephens* us. 'are.* 
„ 182. Usually 'his flatterers.' I believe the other, 'cries 
the flatterer,* to be Donne*s own later reading ; but he over- 
looked that it did not suit ' bring.* 

Line 186. I am not sure whether this means that their 
apparel was, like stage-apparel, hired ; or that, like the latter, 
it might be found in others* books, because not paid for, and 
therefore not really their own. 

Line 189, 'Cut(;/uxn«r= cochineal. 
„ 192. I suppose the Lord Mayor and Aldermen of Lon- 
don. Gf. Elegy xv. lines 55-6. Or, is it a hit at the scarlet- 
gowned doctors of the universities ? 

Line 196, ' hair loose set .** Stephens' us. ' teeth lost set.' 
„ 199, * presence ;' Stephens* us. ' Queen's presence' — 
another important date-mark. ' Presence' is often thus used, 
p e, g. Shakespeare, Taming of Shrew, iv. 3 ; Richard II. i. 3 ; 
2 Henzy lY. iv. 4, et alibi. So Massinger : 

' Some private basiness of mine own disposed of, 
m meet you in the preeenoe.' 
J . The BaBhfnl Lover, 1. 1. 

and agam : 

• I never saw him 
Since he swoon'd in the preMtnee.' Ib. il. 1. 

The word was also used for the presenee-chamber, and irre* 
spective of the royal * presence* there. So Ben Jonson very 

Ibid. * Moschite,' It is to bo noted that the preening, 


Ac. takes plaoe outside, or at the door, before entering the 
presence, t. e, in this case the presence-chamber. Cole's Dic- 
tionary (1677), and Da Cange, $.v. famish these explanations 
of ' Moschite :* the former, * Mosqne, — ea, Mosqae, as Moekite, 
a Tarkish chorch :* the latter, * Moschite, Moeoheda, Moscheta, 
Mascheta, Meschita, Mesohida, Mesqaita, Mosqaea, templam 
Mahametanoram. ' 

Line 200. Stephens' ms. ' sorts [tie] and host.' 
„ 204, *I>urer'«.' The great engrayer, like Hogarth later, 
wrote a treatise on the proportions of the hnman frame. 

line 206. Stephens' mb. ' legg to his neck and wast to his 

Line 223. Very colloqaial and careless constraction. His ill 
words are the ill words of the sofferer. 

Line 234, * bar.^ Throwing the bar was, I sappoee, a test of 
strength prevalent among the royal gnards ; for Bp. Corbet in 
his poem to Lord Mordant, where he satirically describes his 
going to Coort at Windsor, says : 

' And woe is me, the gnaxd, thote men of wane. 
Who bat two weapons nae, beife and barre, 
Began to gripe me ;* 

and again of one of the gaard whom he particolarises : 

' This Lnoiudde tooke hold, and sodainly 
Juried me, by judgment of the stondetB l^. 
Some twelve foot by the square ; takes me againe, 
Outhrowee it halfe a bar.' 

The name * Ironsides,' by the way, as applied to Cromwell's 
regiments, is here shown not to have been a new one, and it 
may have eyen been snggestive of personal guards. 

Line 240, * scant ;* 1633 * scarce :' Stephens' hs. ' Who am a 
shallow . . . ' 

Line 242, * And if I have done well, and as is fitting the 
story, it is that which I have desired : but if slenderly and 
meanly, it is that which I coold attain anto. . . . And here shall 
be an end' (2 Mace. xy. 38-9). G. 


Thou shalt not laugh, in this leafe, Muse, nor they 

Whom any pity wanns. He which did lay 

Eules to make Courtiers, he being understood 

May make good courtiers, hut who courtiers good 1 

Frees from the sting of jests all who in extreme 5 

Are wretched or wicked ; of these two a theam 

Charity and liberty give me. What is he 

Who Officers' rage and Suitors' misery 

Can write in jest ) If all things be in all. 

As I think, since all which' were, are, and shall 10 

Be, be made of the same elements. 

Each thing, each thing implyes or represents ; 

Then man is a world, in which Officers 

Are the vast ravishing seas ; and suters 

Springs, now full, now shallow, now dry, which to 15 

That which drowns them, run : these self reasons do 

Prove the world a man, in which officers 

Are the devouring stomach, and Suters 

The excrements which they void All men are dust ; 

How much worse are Suters, who to mens' lust 20 

Are made preys ? O worse than dust or worms' meat ! 

For they eat you now, whose selves worms shall eat. 



They are the mills which grind you, yet you are 

The wind which drives them ; and a wastful war 

Is fought against you, and you fight it ; they 25 

Adulterate law, and you prepare the way. 

Like wittals ; th' issue your own ruin is. 

Greatest and fairest Empress, know you this 1 

Alas, no more than Thames' calm head doth know, 

Whose meads her arms drown, or whose corn o'reflow. 

You, Sir, whose righteousness she loves, whom I, 31 

By having leave to serve, am most richly 

For service paid, authoriz*d, now begin 

To know and weed out this enormous sin. 

O Age of rusty Iron 1 Some better wit 35 

Call it some worse name, if ought equal it. 

The iron Age was, when justice was sold ; now 

Injustice is sold dearer far ; allow 

All claim'd fees and duties, Gamesters, anon 

The money, which you sweat and swear for, is gon 40 

Into other hands : So controverted lands 

'Scape, like Angelica, the striver's hands. 

If Law be in the Judge's heart, and he 

Have no heart to resist letter or fee, 

Where wilt thou appeal] power of the Courts below 45 

Flows from the first main head ; and these can throw 

Thee, if they suck thee in, to misery, 

To fetters, halters. But if th' injury 

Steel thee to dare complain, Alas, thou go'st 

Against the stream upwards, when thou art most 50 


Heavy, and most faint ; and in these labors they, 

'Gainst whom thou should'st complain, will in thy way 

Become great seas, o're which, when thou shalt be 

Forc'd to make golden bridges, thou shalt see 

That all thy gold was drown'd in them before. 55 

All things follow their like ; only who have may have 

Judges are gods ; and He who made them so, [more. 

Meant not men should be forc'd to them to go 

By means of Angels. Wben supplications 

Wee send to God, to Dominations, 60 

Powers, Cherubins, and all heaven's Courts, if we 

Should pay fees, as here, Daily bread would be 

Scarce to Kings ; so 'tis. Would it not anger 

A Stoick, a Coward, yea a Martyr, 

To see a Pursivant come in, and call 65 

All his clothes, Copes ; Books, Primers ; and all 

His Plate, Chalices ; and mistake them away, 

And ask a fee for comming? Oh, ne'r may 

Fair Law's white reverend name be strumpeted, 

To warrant thefts : she is establish^ 70 

Kecorder to Destiny on Earth, and she 

Speaks Fate's words, and tells who must be 

Eich, who poor, who in chairs, and who in jayls : 

She is all fair, but yet hath foul long nales. 

With which she scratcheth Suiters. In bodies 7 5 

Of men, so in law, nailes are extremities ; 

So Officers stretch to more than law can do, 

As our nails reach what no else part comes to. 


Why barest thou to yon Officer ? Fool, hath he 
Got those goods, for which erst men bar*d to thee ) So 
Fool, twice, thrice, thou hast bought wrong and now 

Beg'st right, but that dole comes not till these dy. 
Thou had'st much, and law's Urim and Thummijn trie 
Thou wouldst for more ; and for all hast paper 
Enough to cloath all the Great Chanick*s Pepper. 85 
Sell that, and by that thou much more shalt leese 
Then Hammon, when he sold his antiquities. than 
wretch, that thy fortunes should moralise 
iEsop's fables, and make tales, prophesies. 
Thou art the swimming dog, whom shadows cozeneth, 
Which div'st, near drowning, for what vanisheth. 91 


Heading in 1669 as before, ' Satyre V ;* in Lansdowne ics. 
740, * A Satire 8 ;' Stephens' hs. * Satyra Qoinia.' 

Line 2, * warms ;* Stephens' ms. ' wame,^ 
„ 2-3. * He . . . coortiers.' Count Baldassar Gastiglione, 
an ItaUan, who wrote a hook called II Corteggiano (The 
Courtier), of the import named in the text. Hence Castilio, 
as the author was called in England, became the coUectiYe 
or representative name of a perfect or affected courtier and 
CastiUan, or Castilion, — an adjectival form liahle to he con- 
founded with Castilian, belonging to a native of Castile. Cf . 
Marston's Satires. 

Line 9, *jeiV [upon or ahout] — another instance of the 
common omission of the preposition. 

Line 12, ' implyes ;' 1633 ' employes.' 
„ 14, * raviahing :' Stephens' MS. and Harleiaa ms. 4955 
' raveninge.' 

SATIRE V. 4i* 


line 16, ' drowne$ :* ibid. * drftweB/ 

,, 22, * do* is inserted before ' eat ;' but it makes a sjl- 
lable too much, and I remore it. As the line is unrhythmical, 
Donne perhaps pnt in * do,* intending to make some such altera- 
tion as * whom* for ' whose selves.' 
Line 26, * the :* 1683 ' their.* 

„ 81, ' You, Sir,' &c. Probablj Lord Chancellor Elies- 
mere — a biographic fact. 

Line 39, * elaim'd :* 1633 * demands.* 

„ 42 , * Angelica' ^ St. Angelica. 

„ 50, * when upwatdt* = when [thon goest] upwards, as 
shown by the vaHant reading * stream upwards,* which seems 

Line 57, ' Jvdges are godi :* Psalm Ixxxii. 1, 2, and 6. 

„ 59, ' Angels :* coins so called == bribes. Angel = as 
nsnally stated, e. g. by Dyce in his Beanmont and Fletcher fre- 
quently, lOi. ; but Holyoke, in his edition of Ryder's Diction- 
ary (1640), gives it as = 11«. (See our Phineas Fletcher for 
Latin lines to Holyoke, s. n.) 

Line 161. Names in the angelic hierarchy. Cf. Elegy xii. 
1. 78, and relative note. 

Line 64, * Stoich ;* Lansdowne ms. 740 * a stone.* 

„ 65, ' eaXV =s call over, and therefore take an inventory 

„ 67, * mUtake^ = take them wrongly or without right — 
a sense not given in the dictionaries. The word is probably 
used in the same sense in Donne's Essays in Divinity, part iii. 
(p. 77, ed. 1855). 

Line 79, * barest* =uncoverest. 

„ 85, *Charrick's Pepper' = canick or large ^merchant- 
ship's cargo of pepper. This word, along with * Greatest and 
fairest Empress' (1. 28), and * You, Sir,' &c. (11. 31 et 8eqq»), helps 
to the date of this Satire. About 1596 or after, the price of 
pepper rose from Ss. to 8«. a pound, owing to the war with 
Spain and Portugal, and to the unfortunate issues of our mer- 
cantile expeditions eastward. On the Slst December 1600 a 
charter was granted to the Governor and Company of Merchants 
of London trading to the East Indies, and in the spring of 1601 
they sent out four large ships under Captain James Lancaster. 
He, with his two larger vessels laden with pepper, did not re- 
turn till September 1603, that is, not till after the accession of 
James. But * he had previously sent home the other two with 

VOL. I. H 


cargoes composed partly of pepper, cloves, and cinnamon, partly 
of calicoes and other Indian manufactures taken out of a Par- 
tuguete carrack that he had fallen in with and captured' (Pict. 
Hist, of England, h. vii. c. 4, * On the National Industry'). I have 
not been able to trace the exact date of the arrival of Uiese two 
last-named vessels, so as to make sure that it was in Eliza- 
beth's reign, i.e. prior to April 1608 ; but I take the ' carrack* 
to be the great carrack and its pepper mentioned in 1. 85 of 
this 5th Satire. This is strengthened by the word used ; for 
though ' carrack' may have be- n occasionally applied to English 
vessels, it was properly and generally applied to any large mer- 
chant-vessels of Spanish, Portuguese, or Italian build. 

Line 87, *Hammon:' 1638 *Haman;' Stephens' ms. has 
' all his.' Who he was, I know not. 

Lines 90-1. 1638 reads * cozen^ . . . vanish^.* 
„ 91, ' div'st :' Stephens' ms. * dyved.' O. 



Si^EEP, next Society and true friendship, 

Man's best contentment, doth securely slip 

His passions, and the world's troubles ; rock me, 

sleep, wean'd from my dear friend's company, 

In a cradle &ee from dreams or thoughts, there 5 

Where poor men ly, for Kings asleep do fear. 

Here sleep, and howsed by famous Ariosto, 

By silver-tongu'd Ovid, and many moe, 

Perhaps by gold-mouth'd Spencer too pardie 

(Which builded was two dozen Stories high), storey* 10 

1 had repair'd, but that it was so rotten. 

As sleep awak'd by Eatts from them was gotten : 

And I will build no new, for by my Will, 

Thy fjEither's house shall be the fairest sfcill 

InExcester. Yet, methinks, for all their Wit, Exeter 15 

Those wits that say nothing, best describe it. 

Without it there is no Sense, only in this 

Sleep is unlike a long Parenthesis. 

Not to save charges, but would I had slept 

The time I spent in London, when I kept 20 

Fighting and untrust gaUants Company, 

In which Natta, the new Knight, seized on nje, 


And offered me the experience he had bought 
With great Expence- I found him throughly taught 
In curing Burnes. His thing had had more scars 25 

Then T himself; like Epps it often wars, 

And still is hurt. For his Body and State 
The Physick and Councel (which came too late 
^Gainst Whores and Dice) he now on me bestows : 
Most superficially he speaks of those. 30 

I found by him, least sound him who most knows. 
He swears well, speakes ill, but best of Clothes, 
What fits Summer, what Winter, what the Spring 
He had Living, but now these waies comein(ge] 
His whole Revenew ; Where his Whore now dwells, 35 
And hath dwelt since his father's death, he tells. 
Yea he tells most cunningly each hid cause 
Why Whores forsake their Bawds: To these, some Laws 
He knows of the Duel, and touch his Skill 
The least Jot in that or these, he quarrel will 40 

Though sober, but he 'as never fought. I know 
What made his Valour undubd Windmill go 
Within a Pint at most ! yet for all this 
(Which is most strange) Natta thinks no man is 
iVIore honest than himself. Thus men may want 45 
Conscience, whilst being brought up ignorant. 
They use themselves to vice. And besides those 
Illiberal Arts forenam'd, no Vicar knows, 
Nor other (Captain less then he ; His Schools than 
Are Ordinaries, where civil men seem fools, 50 


Or are for being tbere ; His best bookes, Plaies, 

Where, meeting godly Scenes, perhaps he praies. 

His first set prayer was for his &ther ill 

And sick, — that he might dye : That had, until 

The Lands were gone, he troubled God no more : 55 

And then ask*d him but his Right, That the whore 

Whom he had kept, might now keep him : She, spent, 

They left each other on even terms ; she went 

To Bridewel, he unto the Wars, where want 

Hath made him valiant, and a Lieutenant 60 

He is become : Where, as they pass apace. 

He steps aside, and for his Captain's place 

He praies again : Tells God, he will confess 

His sins, swear, drink, dice, and whore thenceforth less, 

On this Condition, that his Captain dye 65 

And he succeed ; But his Prayer did not ; they 

Both cashir'd came home, and he is braver now 

Than his captain : all men wonder, few know bow : 

Can he rob 1 No. Cheat ] No. Or doth he spend 

His own) No. Fidus, he is thy dear friend, 76 

That keeps him up. I would thou wert thine own, 

Or hadst as good a friend as thou art one. 

No present Want nor future hope made me. 

Desire (as once I did) thy friend to be : 

But he had cruelly possest thee then, 75 

And as our Neighbours the Low-Country men. 

Being (whilst they were Loyal, with Tyranny 

Opprest) broke loose, have since refused to be 


Subject to good Kings, I found even so, 

Wert thou well rid of him, thou*t have no moe. 80 

Could'st thou but chuse as well as love, to none 

Thou should^st be second : Turtle and Damon 

Should give thee place in songs, and Lovers sick 

Should make thee only Love's Hieroglyphick : 

Thy Impress should be the loving Elm and Vine, 85 

Where now an ancient Oak with Ivy twine. 

Destroyed, thy Symbole is. O dire Mischance ! 

And, O vile verse ! And yet our Abraham France 

Writes thus, and jests not. Good Fidus for this 

Must pardon me, Satyre's Bite when they kiss. 90 

But as for Natta, we have since fain out : 

Here on his knees, he pray'd, else we had foiight. 

And because God would not he should be winner, 

Kor yet would have the Death of such a sinner, 

At his seeking, our Quarrel is deferred, 95 

I'l leave him at his Prayers, and as I heard. 

His last : and, Fidus, you and I do know, 

I was his friend, and durst have been his foe. 

And would be either yet ; But he dares be 

Neither : Sleep blots him out and takes in thee. 100 

* The mind, you know, is like a Table-book, 

The old, unwipt, new writing never took.' 

Hear how the Huishers,* Checques, Cupbord, and Fire 

I pass'd : (by which Degrees young men aspire [Vhen 

In Court) : And how that idle and she-state 105 

(When as my judgment cleer'd) my soul did hate, 


How I found theie (if that my trifling Pen 

Durst take so hard a Task) Kings were but men, 

And by their Place more noted, if they erre ; 

How they and their Lords unworthy men prefer; no 

And, as unthrifts, had rather give away 

Great Summs to flatterers, than small debts pay; 

So they their greatness hide, and greatness show 

By giving them that which to worth they owe : [grateness 

What Treason is, and what did Essex kill, 115 

Not true Treason, but Treason handled ill : 

And which of them stood for their Countrie's good, 

Or what might be the Cause of so much Blood ; 

He said she stunck, and men might not have said 

That she was old before that she was dead. (20 

His Case was hard, to do or suffer ; loth 

To do, he made it harder, and did both. 

Too much preparing lost them all their Lives, 

Like some in Plagues killed with preservatives. 

Friends, like land-souldiers in a storm at Sea, 125 

Kot knowing what to do, for him did pray. 

They told it all the world : where was their wit ? 

Cuffs putting on a sword, might have told it. 

And Princes must fear Favorites more then Foes, than 

For still beyond Revenge Ambition goes. 130 

How since Her death, with Sumpter-horse that Scot 

Hath rid, who, at his coming up, had not 

A Sumpter-dog. But till that I can write 

Tilings worth thy Tenth reading (dear Nick) good night. 




Heading in 1669, as before, * Satyre VI. ;* appeared origin- 
allj in 1669, and has ever since been overlooked by the Editors. 
It is found in varions m8s., e.g. in Ste^phens*, from whence' I 
have taken the inscription * To S' Nicholas Smyth* (cf . line 
134) ; and also various-readings from this mb. and from Hasle- 
wood-Kingsborongh ms. In the latter it is headed ' Satire 9^ 
to Sir Nioho. Smith, 1602.* Its biographic significance in its 
severity against King James is shown in onr Essay, as before. 
Well was it for Donne that it saw not the light antil the king 
and himself were gone. 

Line 2, * Man^t best contentment:' Stephens* ms. 'true con- 
tention :' Haslewood-Kingsborongh ics. * best contentment :* and 
Stephens* ms. * skypp' for * slip.* There was probably some 
known equivoque on * sleep* and * slip.* Drunken Sly, wanting 
to sleep, says, * Oessa, and let the world slip' (Induction, Taming 
of Shrew). = [let] slip. 

Line 4, * thy:' Stephens* mb. ' my ;* I have accepted the latter. 
„ 7. 1669 is nonsense as follows : * Here sleeps House. * 
I accept Stephens* ms. Haslewood - Kingsborongh mb. reads 
' Heere in Sleep's House.* 

Line 9, *gold :' I take this from Stephens' ms. ; 1669 ' golden.* 

lb. 'jpardt>'=an old (minced) oath, a substitute for Fr. par 

Line 10, * firo.' from Stephens* ms., instead of * some,' as in 
1669 and Haslewood-Eingsborough mb. 

Line 12, * them :* from Stephens* ms. for ' thence* of 1669. 
„ 13, * new:' ib. * more.* The meaning is, * he would not 
repair because it was rotten, nor would he build more* (Ste- 
phens* MB.) ; but Donne, on revision (as in 1669), saw that * new* 
was more correct, and also more distinctive. 

Line 16, *In:' Stephens* ms. *At.* Here a space equal to 
three (omitted) lines (lines 15-17). Lines 7-16 seem hopelessly 
ungrammatieal and therefore corrupt. 

Lines 17-18. The sentence is liable to be understood in a 
contrary sense ; but the construction and meaning are — Only 
in this one thing (that without it there is no sense) is sleep un- 
like a long parenthesis, i. e. it is like it in every other Way. 

Line 21, * unfnoie' — huffing fellows, who made a point and 


boast of not being point device in their attire, bnt negligent and 
with * nntmssed' points. 

Line 26, * T .' Stephens' ms. * Things.* 

Ibid. *Epp8,* William Epps was a yaliant bnt irascible 
Kentish man, killed at the siege of Ostend, 1601-4. He lost an 
eye on the walls ; afterwards in battle he carried the colonrs, 

* and the Begent that followed his ensigne (by being hardly set 
to) gining gronnd, and the enemies* ambition thirsting after his 
eolonm, threw at all in hope to winne them. Bnt the destinies 
(who fonght on their side) ndstooke themselves, and in steede 
of striking the oolonrs ont of his hand, smote inm : in so mnob 
that he was twioe shot, and twice ronne through the body, yet 
wold not surrender his hold for al those breaches, but stripping 
the prise for which they strove off from the staffe that helde it 
vp, and wrapping his dying bodie in it, drewe ont big weapon, 
with which (before his ooUonrs could hee called his winding 
sheete) he threwe himselfe into the thickest of danger : where 
after he had slaine a horse-man and two others, most valiantlie, 
hee came off, half e dead, halfe aline, branely deliaering vp his 
spirit in the armes of none bnt his friendes and fellow sonldiers' 
(From a mnch longer panegyric in Dekker's Knight's Conjur- 
ing, c. viii. Percy Society edit. pp. 57-9). It is pleasant to be 
able thus to rebumish a long-dhnmed name of a true hero. 

Line 27. Stephens' xs. * His body and estate.' 
,» 82, *80und:* Stephens* ms. *soundlie,* and so Hasle- 
wood-Kingsborongh. The latter * most* for * best.* 

Line 84, * eomein0e:* Stephens* hs. ; 1669 ' come in*=he tells 
how he had * living,* i. e, possessions or lands, and how at pre- 
sent, in what, and what ways his revenue comes in. See lines 
66, &o. 

Line 86, * father:* Stephens* ms. * mother dyde.* 
„ 87, ' cunningly :* ib. * p*lectly.* 
„ 88. Of. Shakespeare*s As Ton like it, on this .whole 

Line 89, * duel:* Stephens* ms. * duello ;* from which I accept 

* touch* for * on.* 

Line 41. Stephens' us. followed, in preference to 

' Though ■ober, but nere fonght.* 
Line 42. Ibid, reads 

' What miide his rndsonted valoar wynd-myll goe.' 
Haslewood-Kingsborough ms. * undoubted vallore.' This seems 

VOL. I. I 


to mean, ' I know to a pint how mnoh liquor this new knight 
before he was a knight required to make hia moath-valonr go 
olaok-olack like a mill.' 

Line 45. Stephens* ms. ' This man may yannt.* 
„ 46. lb. * who being ;* and 1. 47, ' except* for * besides.* 
„ 51. lb. * book* for * bookes ;* and 1. 52, * h* bands' for 
* scenes.* 

Line 53. 1669 has * father's ill ;' Stephens* vs. onr text. 
„ 54. Stephens* ms. erroneously fills-in * liv'd.* 
ti 57, * i|pent*= being spent, worn out and not frequented, 
or otherwise done up. 

Line 58. Stephens' ms. reads *0n h*selfe;* but the line 
agrees not therewith, but continues nonsensically, * On h'selfe 
each other in [blank], she went.' Haslewood-Kingsborough 
MS. * They left ... or own.' 

Line 59, ' Bridewel ;' Stephens' MB. * BiydensB.' 
„ 65. 1669 intercalates * if.' This was probably our au- 
thor's variation, and a later one, as — 1. It makes the phrase 
stronger. 2. I have observed that, in revising at a later date, 
Donne did what Shakespeare did in his later writings, allow a 
superfluous syllable to end the first half of the line, * On this | 
conditijon || that if | 

Line 66, ' tucceed ;' Stephens' mb. * burreed ;' Haslewood- 
Kingsborough * succeed.' 

Line 67, * braver :' a pun = better-dressed. 
„ 68, *few :' Haslewood-Kingsborough ' none.' 
„ 70. 1669 is followed here : the meaning is, ' No [the ex- 
planation is] , Fidus, he is thy dear friend that [it is that] keeps 
him up.' The ms. misreads ' Fidus is the dear friend.' 
Line 72. 1669 intercalates [* Thou] hadst,' wrongly. 
„ 80, ' thou*t have .•' Stephens' ms. * hym, thou.* 
„ 82. Stephens' ms. ' P'amon.' 
„ 83. Our MS. reads 

* Should give thee place, in langs aud livera siok, 
Should only make thee Loye's Hieroglyphic' 

Save that I accept * thee place' for ' the place,' I follow here 
1669, the meaning being 'Then in songs Turtle and Damon 
[the stock allusions in songs of love and friendship] should give 
place to thee (or give the place [to thee] ), and sick lovers should 
make thee alone Love's Hieroglyphic' The change, * make thee 
only,' seems to show that 1669 is the revised text, because ' only 
make thee* is ambiguous ; whereas ' make thee only' is accord- 


ing to the then nse of only make thee alone, and nothing else, 
or make thee the only hieroglyphic. Hieroglyphic = emblem. 
Haslewood-EingBborongh m8. reads * sencee' for * liyers* above. 

Line 85. Stephens' ms. * they' for * the ;' and 1. 86, * Where 
none can.* 

Line 88, * our .-* Stephens' ms. ' yo'.' 

Ibid. ' Abraham France :' i. e. the poet of ' Emannell,' which 
forms one of onr Fuller Worthies' Miscellanies, vol. iii. 

Line 97= His last [prayers] — a parenthetic sarcasm. 1669 
is here followed : onr ms. reads * His last, Fidns and you and 
hee do know.' 

Line 100. 1669 intercalates * yet' after * Neither,' wrongly. 
„ 102. Stephens' ms. * W<^ th' old :' nnwipt = being nn- 

Line lOS, * Hear .' ib. * Sweare ;' bnt there seems cormp- 
tion here. 1669 reads * Hnishers Checqnes ;' Haslewood-Eings- 
borongh *Heer the vsher with derks.' It is possible that 
* Hnishers Checqnes,' while a misreading, really carries in it 
onr anther's alteration, with the intention of reading * Hnishers, 
Checqnes,' Sec, Bp. Corbet, in his poem to Lord Mordant, in 
describing his going to a Conrt ceremony, says, when he begins 
to speak of the feast, 

' And now the fitvorltes of the clarke of th* cheoke 

• t • • • • 

These now shall be refresht.* 
And again, 

' By which I learae it is a man's offenoe 
So neere the clarke of th' check to alter sense.' 

Edit Oilchrist, 1807, pp. 74, 77. 

Now, as * clerks' alone is indefinite, I take it that Donne, on 
revision, substituted the name of their place, ' Checqnes' (just 
as he uses * Cupboard'), to make his meaning clearer. ' The 
Check-roll or Checquer-roU contained the names of the king's 
or other great persons' menial servants' [rather household] . 
Coles, $, V. See also a quotation in Halliwell's edition of Nares. 
The clerk of the check (or cheque) was therefore he who had 
this roll, and so the regulation of those who were entitled to 
' board.* In our text, accordingly, I read as in 1669, refusing 
' Clerkes' for * Checqnes.' 

With reference to * Hear' (1. 103), note that in this Satire- 
epistle Donne begins as to sleep, and makes it the exordium to 
his satire : ' Would I had slept all the time of my riotous life 
in London' (which, by the way, with his reference to James, 


fihowB this Satire to be much Uitei than the others) ; bxlH hav- 
ing got on Natta, and having done with him, he begins again to 
his friend, * Hear also how I in my riotous life pass'd,' Sue, 
line 105, '«^-«tate*=£lizabeth'B later goyemment. 
„ 106, *cleer'd:' Stephens* ms. *oleares;* Haslewood- 
Eingsboroogh mb. * cler'd.* 

Line 107, * there .•* Stephens* hs. 
„ 109, * noted:* so Haslewood-Kingsborongh KB.; Ste- 
phens' MB. * noticed.* 

line 112. Elizabeth's fltfol parsimony was notorions. 
„ 113. 1669 is here followed ; Stephens' mb. reads * weak- 
ness' for the first * greatness ;' which, however, gives the reverse 
of the sense intended, which is : 

' So thqr their greatness bide, and weoknen show ;' 

hide the tme greatness they have, or onght to have. As in 
margin, I venture to onderstand the second * greatness' as = 
grateness, i. «. show their ingratenesB or ingratitude. 

Line 115, * Essex kill :' the unhappy favourite of Elizabeth. 
We have here a glimpse of the current seandals against ' Queen 

Line 119, ' etunek .*' Stephens' mb. ' stancke.' 

Ibid. Queiy, Is the construction. He said she stunofc, and 
[said] this when men were not allowed to say she was old {i.e, 

Line 120. Stephens' mb. : * She had bene old before she had 
bene dead.' 

Line 128, ' Cuffe* = Essex's secretaiy, ' a man smothered 
under the habit of a scholar, and slubbered over with a certain 
rude and downish fashion that had the semblance of integrity' 
(Belig. WottoniansB) ; recommended the forcible removal of Cecil 
and others from Court ; and Essex prepared to put this plan in 
execution. Probably Donne means that, instead of his friends 
telling the design by preparation, and then by praying him off, 
it would have been better to have told it by Cuff's putting on a 
sword, t. e. by adopting Cuff's recommendation earlier, and so 
told it to the world at the moment only of action. 

Line 133. Stephens' mb. : ' but vntill I can wrighte.' 
„ 134. In Stephens' mb. * Good Night' occnpicB a sepa- 
rate line as a signature. G. 

• - l' 


Men write that love and veason diaagree, 

But I ne'r eaVt expiest as 'tis in thee. 

Well, I may lead thee, God must make thee see ; 

Bui thine eyes blinde too, there's no hope for thee. 

Thpu say'st she's wise and witty, fair and free 3 5 

All these are reasons why she should scorn thee. 

Thou dost protest ihy love, and would'st it show 

By matching her, as she would match her foe : 

And wouldst perswade her to a worse offence 

Than that whereof thou didst accuse her wench. xo 

Beason there's none for the[e] ; but thou maist vex 

Her with example. Say, for fear her sex 

Shun her, she needs must change ; I do not see 

How reason e'r can bring that ' must' to thee. 

Thou art a match a Justice to rejoyce, 1 5 

Fit to be his, and not his daughter's choice. 

Urg'd with his threats shee'd scarcely stay with thee, 

And wouldst th' have this to chuse thee, being free ? 

Go then and punish some soon gotten stuff; 

For her dead husband this hath moum'd enough, 20 

In hating thee. Thou maist one like this meet ; 

For spight take her, prove kind, make thy breath sweet : 

62 SATIRE vn. 

Let her see sbe 'hath cause, and to bring to thee 

Honest children, let her dishonest be. 

If she be a widow, Fie warrant her . 25 

She'l thee before her first husband prefer ; 

And will wish thou hadst had her maidenhead, 

(She'l love thee so) for then thou hadst been dead, 

But thou such strong love, and weak reasons hast, 

Thou must thrive there, or ever live disgraced. 30 

Yet pause a while, and thou maist live to see 

A time to come, wherein she may beg thee ; 

If thou'lt not pause nor change, shel beg thee now. 

Doe what she can, love for nothing she'll allow ; 

Besides, here were too much gain and merchandise, 35 

And when thou art rewarded, desert dies. 

Now thou hast ods of him she loves ; he may doubt 

Her constancy, but none can put the[e] out. 

Again, be thy love true, she'l prove divine, 

And in the end the good on't will be thine ; 40 

For tho' thou must ne'r think of other love, 

And so wilt advance her as high above 

Virtue as cause above effect can be, 

'Tis vertue to be chast, which she'll make thee. 


Heading in 1669, as before, * Satyre VII.* This is lunally 
given as * Satire YI.,' from the eingnlar oontinned overfiight of the 
preceding one. In Harl. ms. 4955 it is headed like the other 
two, * To S' Nicholas Smyth,* who no donbt is the * dear Nick* of 
line 184 of Satire vi. In Steph. ms., while it does not appear, 
two leaves are left blank as if intended for it, and therefore 


showing knowledge of its ezifltenoe. Though addressed to Sir 
NiohoUs Smith, he cannot possibly have been the subject of it, 
which is the marriage of an old man otherwise unfit to marry 
the young widow he had chosen. As there is no exordium or 
poem addressed to Sir Nicholas Smith, perhaps we shall not err 
if we judge the heading to him to be a blunder due to the differ* 
ent headings of the Satires, or to the fact that Sir Nicholas, to 
whom the previous Satire was addressed, had a copy of this one. 
This Satire originally appeared in ld35 edition. 

Line 14, ' change,* ue. change towards thee. 
„ 17, ' Urg*d,* I accept this from Haslewood - Kings- 
borough MS. ; usually * Dry*d,' which is nonsense. 

Line 18, * tMM*=father*s threats. 
„ 29-80. These are words humorously supposed to be 
said l^ the would-be bridegroom. The words ' strong love and 
weak reasons* refer to the proverbial saying, that a man cannot 
be a lover and vrise. Cf . Epithal. Eclogue, line 86. 

Line 82, ' beg thee,* as an idiot or natural. 
„ 84, ' nothing.* This seems to be a somewhat equivocal 
phrase =Bhe*ll value your love as nothing, and allow nothing in 
exchange. Besides, w^e she to give any love in exchange, 
there would be too much gain to you ; and, moreover, your de- 
sert, being rewarded, would no longer be desert. The conceits 
here as elsewhere, and even in Shakespeare, are forced some- 

Line 41. Haslewood-Kingsborough ms. reads 

* Eor thou mnst thlnke never on other love.' O. 





The * ProgreM of the Soul* appeared originally in the quarto 
of 1688 (3 pages nnnnmhered, and pp. 1-27), and has been re- 
printed in all the after-editions. 

Oar text is Addl. mbs. 18,647, Pint. 201 H, from the Earl 
of Denbigh^s collection (pnrohased by the British Mnseom, 10th 
May 1851). Oar collation of 1683 and after-editions satisfied 
as that this ms. is saperior (as a whole) in its readings. In 
Notes and Illnstrations, as before, will be fonnd varioos-read- 
ings, &c., wherein we give reasons for occasionally departing 
from oar adopted mb. 

.See oar Essay for De Qnincey's glowing panegyric of the 
* Progress :' and yet there are things in it one woald wish away 
— jast as one ineritably remores a slag from the rose's heart or 
lily's chalice — ^and which perhaps explain, if they do not alto- 
gether warrant. Professor Ward's strong censare in his edition 
of Pope. It may be permitted as to remind the reader, of the 
heading Poema Satyricon^ and that the offence is limited to 
two oat of fifty-two stanzas. I point oat the relation of the 
' Progress' to the still more remarkable * Anatomie' — hitherto 
overlooked. See Notes on Epistle immediately following. 

The ' Progress of the Soul' takes its place next to the Satires 
proper, as being called by its Author * Poema S^atyricon.^ O. 

. 16 AxLgoBii 1601. 


Others at the Porches and entries of their buildings 
set their Arms ; I my picture ; if any coulors can deliver 
a minde so plaine and flatt and through-light as mine. 
^Naturally at a new Author I doubt, and stick, and doe 
not quickly saye 'Good.' I censure much and taxe; 
And this liberty costs mee more then [than] others, 
by how much my own things are worse than others. 
Yet I could not be so rebellious against myselfe^ as 
not to doe it, since I love it [nor so unjust to others, 
to do it] ; »ine tallone. As long as I give them as good 
holde uppon me, they must pardon mee my by tings. 
I forbidd no reprehender but him, that like the Trent 
Councell, forbidds not books, but Authors, dammninge 
whatever such a name hath or shall write. None write 
so ill, that he gives not somethinge exemplaric^ to fol- 
lowe or ilie. Now when I beginn this booke, I have 
noe purpose [to come] in [to] any man's debt; how 
my stock will hould out, I know not ; perchaunce 
wast, perchaunce increase in use. If I doe borrow 
any thinge of Antiquitie, besides thai I make account 


that I paye it to Posterities with as - much, and as 
good ; you shall still finde me to acknowledg it, and 
to thanck not him only, that hath digged out treasure 
for me, but ^hat hath lighted [me] a candle to the 
place. All which I will bid you remember (for I 
would have noe such Headers, as I can t^ach) is, that 
the Pithagorian doctiine doth not only carry o|ie soule 
from man to man, nor man to beast, but indifferently 
to plants alsoe : and therefore you must not grudge to 
finde the same soule in an Emperour, in a Post-horse, 
and in a Macheron ; since no unreadynes in the soule, 
but an indisposition in the Organs worke this. And 
therefore, though this soule could not move when it 
was a Melon, yet it may remember and now tell mee, 
at what lascivious banquett it was serv'd. And though 
it could not speake, when it was a Spider, yet it can 
remember, and now tell me, who us'd it for poyson to 
attaino dignitie. However the bodies have dull'd her 
other faculties, her memorie hath [ever] been her owne; 
which makes me soe seriously deliver you by her rela- 
tion all her passages from her first makinge, when she 
was that apple which Eve eate, to this tyme when she 
is in her, whose life you shall find in the end of this 


In line 7, the words ' by how much others' are in- 
advertently dropped in the American edition (1855). A few 
words placed in brackets [ ] , omitted in oar vs., are filled -in 
from 1633 and after-editions; but other snperflnons words not 


foand in our ms. are left oat, as noted below. Lines 9-10 read in 
oar MS. * love it ; sine ttUionef line 17 reads ' noe parpose in any 
man*B doabt, how,' &c. ; line 34 * can,' not being in oar ms. is 
omitted, as onward; lines 42-8 are asaally misprinted * when she 
is she ;' the word * Maoheron,' line 31, is explained in relative 
note on Satire iv. 1. 117. Probably the * Anatomie' was intended 
to follow, and so the ' life' meant was Mrs. Elizabeth Drniy's. 
This seems tacitly indicated by the title of the ' second Anni- 
versary' of the * Anatomie,' viz. ' Of the Progress of the Soal.' 
I am very well aware that the * Progress of the Soal,' and the 
* Anatomic,' and its * Progress of the Soal,' have fnndamental 
differences, so mach so that the later might almost find a place 
among the ' Divine Poems.' That is to say, it is a Christian 
poem withoat allasion to the Pythagorean doctrine, and all its 
reflections and thoaghts are moral and religions. I am also 
aware that the * Anatomic,' and its ' Progress of the Soal,' as 
now extant, belong to a period in advance of the * Metempsy- 
chosis,' which is dated 16th Aagast 1601. The freqaent refer- 
ences to the new star prove these references to be after 1604. 
I am willing to date it even 1610-1, i.e. near to the pablication 
of the first part of the * Anatomie' in 1611 : both parts 1612. Bat 
my idea is, that when in 1601, in his Epistle to the ' Metempsy- 
chosis,' he named the * life' to be foand * in the end of the booke,' 
he had the sabstance of the * Anatomic' lying past him ; and 
intended therewith to sing of the * life' of an ideal Wonuw, in 
contrast with the more earthly type of the * Metempsychosis.' 
Meanwhile, Mrs. Elizabeth Drary, the child-wife (for she was 
only fifteen), dying, he fell back on the Verse beside him, and 
wronght it into a deeper and nobler *life' than ever he had 
dreamed of. I do not say Mrs. Drary was the * great soal' of 
St. vii. of * Metempsychosis' — another ' ideal' was then before 
his imagination — bat I feel satisfied that he transferred to her 
what he intended for that other. This kept in mind, explains 
the breadth and largeness of the panegyric of the * Anatomie,' 
and also those remaining toaches of Pythagoreanism, as of Mrs. 
Drary as the informing soal of the dead World. Oar arrange- 
ment, made on other and independent groands, brings the two 
poems into proximity. See more on all this in oar Essay. G. 



I SINGE the progresse of a deathless soule, 

Whom Fate — which God made but doth not controiile — 

Placed in most shapes ; all tymes, before the lawe 

Yoak'd us, and when, and since, in this I singe ; 

And the gieate world t' his agM eveninge, 5 

From infant mome, through manly noone I drawe ; 

\yhat the gold Chaldee, or silver Persian sawe. 

Greeke brass, or Roman iron, is in this one ; 

A work to outweare Sethe's pillars, brick and stone, 

And (holy writte excepted) made to yeild to none. 10 

Thee, eye of Heau'n, this great Soule envies not ; 
By thy male force is all we have, begott 
In the first East thou now beginn'st to shine, 
Suck'st early balme, and Hand spices there ; 
And wilt anone in thy loose- rain'd carrere 15 

At Tagus, Po, Sene, Thames, and Danow dine, Seine 
And see at night thy Westeme land of Mine ; [i^nube 
Yet hast thou not more Nations seen than shee, 
That before thee one day began to be ; 
And thy fraile light beinge quenchVl, shall longe, longe 
outlive thee. 20 


Not holy Janus, in whose' soveraigne boate 
The Churchy and all the Monarchies did floate ; 
That swimming College, and free Hospital! 
Of all mankinde, that Cage and viuarie 
Of foules and beasts, in whose wombe Destinie 25 
Us and our latest Nephews did install ; 
(From thence are all derived, that fill this All) ; 
Didst thou in that greate stewardshipp embarke 
So divers shapes into that floatinge parke, 
As have beene mou'd, and informed by this heavenly 
sparke. 30 

Great Destinie, the Commissarie of -God, 
That hast mark'd out a path and period 
For every thinge ; Who, where wee offspringe tooke, 
Our wayes and ends seest at one instant ; Thou 
Knott of all causes ; Thou, whose changelesse bro we 3 5 
Ne're smiles nor frownes, vouchsafe thou to looke, 
And shew my storie, in Thy eternal booke. 
That (if my prayre be fitt) I may* understand 
So much myselfe, as to know with what hand. 
How scant, or liberal, this my life's race is spann'd. 40 

To my six lustres, almost now outwore. 
Except Thy book owe mee so many more ; 
Except my legend bee free from the letts 
Of steepe ambition, sleepie povertie, 
Spiritt-queuchinge sicknes, dull captivitie, 45 


Distractinge busines, and from beautie's netts, 
And all that calls from this and t* others whetts ; 
O ! let me not launch oat, bnt let me sare 
The expence of brain6 and spiritt ; that my grave 
His right and due, a whole unwasted man maye haue. 50 

But if my dayes be long, and good enough, 
In vaine this sea shall enlaidge, or enrough 
Itselfe ; for I will through the wave and fome, 


And hold in sad lone wayes, a lively spright, 
Make my dark heavie Poem light, and light. 55 

For, though through many straights and lands I roame, 
I launch at Paradice, and I sayle towards home ; 
The c[o]urse, I there begann^ shall heere be stayd ; 
Say Is hoysted there, struck heere ; and Anchors layde 
In Thames, which were at Tygris and Euphrates wayde. 


For this great soule, which here amongst us nowe 
Doth dwell, and moves that hand, and tongue, an<l 

Which, as the Moone the sea, moves us ; to heare 
Whose story with long patience you will longe ; 
(For *tis the crowne and last straine of my songe ;) 65 
This soul, to whom Luther and Mahomett were 
Prisons of flesh ; this soule which oft did teare 
And men[d] the wracks of th' Empire, and late Rome, 
And liu'd where every greate change did come, 
Had first in Paradise, a lowe but fatal 1 roome. 70 


Yet no lowe roome, nor then the greatest^ lesse than 
If (as devout and sharpe men fitly guesse) 
That Cross, our ioye and.grafife (where nayles did tye grief 
That All, which always was all, everywhere, 
Which could not sinne, and yet all sinns did beare, 75 
Which could not dye, yet could not chuse but dye ;) 
Stood in the self-same room in Caluarie, " 
Where first grew the forbidden learned tree ; 
For on that tree hong in securitie 79 

This soule, made by the Maker's will from pullinge free. 

Prince of the Orchard, faire as dawninge morne, 

Fenc'd with the lawe, and ripe as soone as borne, 

That apple grew, which this soule did enlive ; 

Till the then-clyming serpent, that now creepes 

For that oiFence, for which all mankinde weeps, 85 

Tooke it, and t* her, whom the first man did wiue 

(Whom, and her race, only forbiddings drive) 

Hee gave it, shee t' her husband ; both did eate : 

So perished the eaters and the meate ; [sweate. 

And wee (for treason taints the bloud) thence die and 

Man all at once was there by woeman slaine ; 9 1 
And one by one we are heare slaine o're againe 
By them. The mother poyson'd the well-head, 
The daughters here corrupt us, rivolets ; 
No smalenes 'scapes, noe greatenes breaks their netts : 95 
She thrust us out, and by them wee are led 
Astraye, from tuminge to whence wee are fledd. 



Were prisoners judges, 'twould seeme rigorous ; 

She sinn'd, we beare ; part of our pain is thus [us. 

To loue them, whose fault to this paineful loue yoak'd 

So fast in us doth this corruption growe, loi 

That now wee dare aske why we should be soe ; 
Would God (disputes the curious Eebel) make 
A lawe, and would not have it kept ? Or can 
His creature's will cross His? Of every man, 105 

For one, will God (and be iust) vengeance take t * 
Who sinn'd ) 'twas not forbidden to the Snake, 
Nor her, who was not then made ; nor is't writt 
That Adame cropt, or knew the Apple ; yet 109 

The worme, and shee, and hee, and wee endure for it. 

But snatch mee, heavenly Spiritt, from this vayne 
Eeckoninge their vanitie ; less is their gaine 
Then hazard, still to meditate on ill, than 

Though with good minde; their reason's like those toyes 
Of glassie bubbles, which the gamesome boyes 115 
Stretch to so nice a thinnesse through a quill, 
That they themselves breake, and do themselves spill. 
Arguing is heretiques game ^ and Exercise, 
As wrestlers, perfects them : Not liberties 
Of speech, but silence ; hands, not tongs, end heresies. 

Just in that instant, when the serpent's gripe 121 
Broake the slight veynes, and tender conduit-pipe, 
Through which this soul from the tree's roote did drawe 


Life and growth to this Apple, fledd awaye 
This loose soule, old, one and another daye. 125 

As lightninge, which one scarce dares say he sawe, 
'Tis so soone gone, (and better proofe the lawe 
Of sense, then faith requires,) swiftJie shee flewe than 
T' a darke and foggy Plott ; her, her fates threwe 
There through the' earth's pores, and in a Plant hous'd 
her anewe. 130 

The plant, thus abled, to itselfe did force 
A place, where no place was ; by nature's course 
As ayre from water, water fleets awaye 
From thicker bodies ; by this roote thronged soe 
His spongie confines gave him place to growe : 135 
Just as in our streetes, when the people staye 
To see the Prince, and so fill up the way. 
That weesels scarce could pass ; when she comes neere, 
They throng, and cleave up, and a passage cleare, 
As if for that time their round bodies flatned were. 140 

His right Arme he thrust out towards the East, 
Westward his left ; th' ends did themselves digest 
Into ten lesser strings, these fingers were : 
And as a slumberer stretchinge on his bedd. 
This way hee this, and that waye scattered 145 

His other legg, which feete with toes up beare ; 
Grewe on his middle parts, the first day, haire, 
To shew, that in love's busines he should still 
A dealer bee, and be us'd, well or ill : 149 

His apples kindle, his leaves force of conception kill. 


A Mouth, but dumbe, he hath ; blinde eyes, deafe 
And to his shoulders dangle subtile haires ; [eares ; 
A yonge Colossus there he stands upright : 
And, as that ground by him were conquered, 
A leafie garland weares he on his head 155 

Enchas'd with little fniits, so redd and bright. 
That fos them you would call your lovers lipps white ; 
So of a lone unhaunted place possest, 
Did this soule's second Inn, built by the guest. 
This livinge buried man, this quiet mandracke, rest. 160 

'No lustfull woeman came this plant to greive. 
But 'twas because there was none yet but Eve ; 
And she (with other purpose) kill'd it quite : 
Her sinne had now brought in infirmities. 
And so her cradled child, the moist red eyes 165 

Had never shutt, nor slept, since it saw light ; 
Poppie she knew, shee knew the mandracke's might, 
^nd tore up both, and soe cooFd her child's bloud : 
Unvertuous weedes might long unvex'd have stood ; 
But hee's short-liv'd, that with his death can do most 
good. 170 

To an unfettered soule's quick nimble hast 
Are fallinge stars, and h[e]art's thoughts, but slow-pac'd: 
Thinner then burnt aire flies this soule, and shee, than 
Whom foure new cominge and foure parting Sunnes 
Had found, and left the mandrack's tennant, runns 175 
Thoughtless of chdnge, when her firme destinie 
Confin'd, and enjayl'd her, that seem'd so free, 


Into a small blew shell ; the which a poor 

Warme bird o'respread, and satt still evermore, 179 

Till her inclosed child kickt and peck'd itselfe a dore. 

Out crept a sparrow, this soul's movinge Inne, 
On whose rawe armes stiffe feathers now beginne. 
As children's teeth through gummes, to breake with 
His flesh is gellie yet, and his bones thredds ; [paine ; 
All a new downy mantle ouerspreads. 185 

A mouth hee opes, which would as much containe 
As his late house, and the first hower speaks plaine, 
And chirps alowd for meate. Meate fit for men 
His father steales for him, and soe feeds then 189 

One, that within a moneth, will beate him from his hen. 

In this world's youth, wise Nature did make hast ; 
Things ripned sooner, and did longer last ; 
Already this hott cock in bush and tree, 
In feild and tent o'refiutters his next hen ; 
He askes her not who did so tast, nor when ; 195 

Nor if his sister or his neice shee bee, 
Nor doth shee pule for his inconstancie. 
If in her sights hee change ; nor doth refuse 
The next, that calls ; both libertie do use ; 
Where store is of both kindes, both kindes may freely 
choose : 200 

Men, till they tooke lawes which made fireedome 
Their daughters and their sisters did ingress ; [lesse, 


Till now, unlawfull, therefore ill 'twas not. 

So ioUie, that it can more this soule ; is 

The hodj so &ee of his kindnesses, 205 

That selfe-preservinge it hath now forgott, 

And slackneth so the soule's and hodie's knott, 

Which temperance straightens : freely on his shee-freinds 

Hee bloud and spiritt, pith and marrow spends, 

111 steward of himselfe, himselfe in three years ends. 210 

Else might he long have liu'd ; man did not know 
Of gummie blood, which doth in Holly growe, 
How to make bird-lyme, nor how to deceive 
With faignM calls, his netts, or enwrapping snare, 
The free inhabitants of th*, plyant ayre. 215 

Man to begett and woman to conceive, 
Askd not of rootes, nor of cock-sparrowes leave : 
Yet chuseth hee, though none of these he feares, 
Pleasantly three, than straightened twenty yeares straitened 
To live ; and to increase his race, himselfe outweares. 220 

This coale with over-blowinge quenched and dead. 
The soule from her too active organs fledd 
To a brooke ; a female fishe's sandy Roie roe 

With the male's jelly newly leaven'd was, 
For they had intertouch'd as they did passe, 225 

And one of those smale bodies, fitted soe, 
This soul inform'd, and abled it to rqe row 

Itselfe with finny oares, which she did fitt ; 
Her scales seem'd yet of parchment, and as yet 
Perchaunce a fish, but by no name, you could call it 


When goodly, like a shipp in lier full trimme, 231 
A Bwann so white, that you may unto him 
Compare all whitenes, but himselfe to none, 
Glided along, and, as hee glided, watched. 
And with his archM neck this pooie fish catch't : 235 
It mooved with state, as if to looke upon 
Low things it scom'd ; and yet, before that one 
Could think hee sought it, he had swallowed cleare 
This, and much such ; and unblam'd, devoured there 
All, but who too swift, to[o] great, or well arm'd were. 

Now swomme a prison in a prison putt, 241 

And now this Soule in double walls was shutt ; 
Till, melted with the Swan's digestive fire. 
She left her house the fish, and vapoured forth : 
Fate, not affordinge bodies of more worth 245 

For her as yet, bids her againe retire 
P another fish, to any new desire 
Made a new prey : For he, that can to none 
Besistance make, nor complaint, sure is gone ; 
Weaknes invites, but silence feasts, oppression. 250 

Pace with her native strean^ this fish doth keepe, 
And joumies with her towards the glassie deepe, 
But oft retarded ; once with a hidden nett, 
Tho' with greate windowes; (for when neede first taught 
These tricks to catch foods, then they were not wrought 
As now, with curious greediness, \o lett 256 

None 'scape, but few and fit for use, to gett ;) 


As in this trapp a ravenous Pike was tane, so 

Who, though himselfe distreet, would faine have slaine 
This wretch ; So hardly are ill habitts left againe. 260 

Here by her smaleness she two deathes o'repast ; 
Once, innocence 'scap'd and left the oppresser fast ; 
The nett through-swome, she keepes the liquid path, 
And whether shee leap up sometimes to breath, 
And suck in ayre or find it underneath, 265 

Or workinge parts like mills, or limbecks hath, 
To make the water thinne and ayre-like, faith 
Cares not, but safe the Place shee comes unto. 
Where fresh with salt waves meete ; and what to doe 
Shee knowes not, but betweene both makes a boord or 
two. 270 

So farr &om hidinge her guests, water is. 
That shee showes them in bigger quantities 
Than they are. Thus her, doubtfuU of her way, 
For game, and not for hunger, a sea-pie 
Spide through the traitorous spectacle, fh)m high, 275 
The silly fish, where it disputinge laye. 
And, t' end her doubts and her, beares her awaye ; 
Exalted shee is but to the exalter's good, 
(As are by great ones, men which lowly stood.) 
It rais'd to be the Eaiser's instrumente and food. 280 

Is any kinde subiect to rape -like fish ? 
Ill unto man they neither doe, nor wish ; 


Fishers they kill not^ nor with noise awake ; 

They doe not hunt, nor strive to make a prey 

Of beasts, nor their young sonnes to beare awaye ; 285 

Foules they pursue not, nor doe' undertake 

To spoile the nests industrious birds doe make ; 

Yet them all these unkinde kindes feed uppon ; 

To kUl them is an occupation, 

And lawes make Fasts and Lents for their distruction. 

A Buddaine stiff land- winde in that selfe hower 291 
To seaward forc'd this bird, that did dovoure 
The iish ; he cares not, for with ease he flies. 
Fat gluttonie's best orator : at last 
So longe he hath flown, and hath flowen so fast, 295 
That leagues o'rpast at sea, now tir'd hee lyes. 
And with his prey, that till then languisht, dies ; 
The soules, no longer foes, two wayes did erre. 
The flsh I follow, and keepe no Calender 
Of the other ; he lives yet in some great Officer. 300 

Into an embrion flsh our Soule is throwen. 
And in due tyme throwen out againe, and growen 
To such vastness as, if unmanacled 
From Greece, Morea were, and that by some 
Earthquake unrooted, loose Morea swomo ; 305 

Or seas from Africk's body had severed 
And tome the hopefutl Promontorie's head ; 
This fish would seeme these, and, when all hopes faile, 

VOL. I. M 


A great shipp oversett, or without eayle 
Hullinge might (when this was a whelpe) be like this 
whale. 310 


At every stroke his brazen finnes do take, 
More circles in the broken sea they make, 
Then cannons' voices when the ajre they teare : than 
His ribbes are pillars, and his high-arch'd roofe 
Of barke, that blunts best Steele, is thunder-proofe : 3 1 5 
Swimm in him swallow'd Dolphins without feare, 
And feele no sides, as if his vast wombe were 
Some Inland sea ; and ever, as he went, 
He spouted rivers up, as if he meant 
To join our seas with seas above the firmament. 320 

He hunts not fish, but as an officer 
Stays in his Court, at his owne net, and there 
All sutors of all sorts themselves enthrall ; 
So on his back lies this whale wantoninge. 
And in his gulfe-like throate suckes every thinge 325 
That passeth neare. Fish chaseth fish, and all. 
Flyer and follower, in this whirlpoole fall ; 
might not states of more equalitie 
Consist ? and is it of necessity [die ? 

That thousand guiltless smales^to make one greate, must 

Now drinks he up seas, and he eats up flocks ; 

He jostles Hands, and he shakes firm rocks : 

Now in a roomefull house this soule doth floate, 


And, like a Princey shee sends her faculties 

To all her lymbes, distant as Provinces. . 335 

The Sun hath twenty tymes both Crabb and Goate 

ParchM, since iirst launched forth this livinge boate ; 

'Tis greatest now, and to destruction 

Nearest : There's no pause at perfection ; 

Greatnes a period hath, but hath noe station. 340 

Two little fishes, whom he never harm'd, 
Nor fedd on their kinde, two, jnot thoroughly arm'd 
With hope that they could kill him, nor could doe 
Good to themselves by his death (they did not eate 
His flesh, nor suck those oyls which thence outstreat), 
Conspir'd against him ; and it might undoe 346 

The plott of all, that the plotters were two, 
But that they fishes were, and could not speake. 
How shall a Tyrant wise, stronge projects breake, 349 
If wretches can on them the common anger wreake ? 

The flayle-tin*d Thresher and steel-beak'd Sword-fish 
Only attempt to doe, what all do wish : 
The Threasher backs him, and to beat beginns ; 
The sluggard Whale yealds to oppression, 
And, t' hide himselfe from shame and danger, downo 
Beginns to sinck ; the sword-fish upward spinns, 356 
And goares him with his beake ; his staffe-like finnes 
So well the one, his sword the other plies. 
That, now a scoff and prey, this tyrant dyes, 359 

And (his own dole) feeds with himself all companies. 


Who will revenge his death ] or who will call 
Those to account, that thought and wrought his fall ? 
Th* heires of slaine kings wee see are often soe 
Transported with the joye of what they gett, 
That they revenge and ohsequies forgett; 365 

Nor will against such men the people goe, 
Because he's now dead, to whom they should showe 
Love in that act ; some kings by vice being growne 
So needy of subjects' love, that of their owne 
They thinck they loose, if love be to the dead Prince 
shown. lose 370 

This Soule now free from prison and passion, 
Hath yet a little indignation, 

That so small hammers should so soone downe beate 
So greate a castle, and havinge for her house 
Gott the strait cloyster of a wretched mouse, 375 

(As basest men, that have not what to eat, 
Kor enioye ought, doe farr more hate the greate 
Then they, who good repos'd estates possesse) ihaa 
This Soule, late taught that greate things might by lesse 
Bee slaine, to gallant mischiefo doth herself addresse. 

Nature's greate master-piece, an Elephant: 381 
(The only harmeless great thinge ; the gyant 
Of beasts ; who, thought none had to make him wise. 
But to be iust and thankfuU, loath to offend), — 
Yet Nature hath given him no knees to bend, — 385 


Himself he up-props, on himselfe relies, 

And, foe to none, suspects noe enemies : 

Still sleeping stood, vexed not his fantasie 

Black dreames, like an unbent bowe carelesly 

His sinewy Proboscis did remisly lie, 390 

In which, as in a gallery, this mouse 
Walk'd, and surveyed the roomes of this vast house ; 
And to the brain, the soule's bed-chamber, went. 
And gnawed the life-cords there : like a whole towno 
Cleane undermin*d, the slaine beast tumbled downe ; 
With him the murtherer dyes, whom envy sent 396 
To kill, not 'scape ; for only he, that went 
To dye, did ever kill a man of better roome : 
And thus he made his foe his prey and tombe : 399 
Who cares not to tume back, may cmy-whither come. 

Next hous'd this Soule a Woolue's yet unbome 
Till the best midwife. Nature, gave it helpe 
To issue : it could kill, as soon as goe. 
Abel, as white and mild as his sheepe were, 
(Who, in that trade, of Church and Ringdomc's, there 
Was the first type,) was still infested soe 406 

With this wolfe, that it bredd his loss and woe ; 
And yet his bitch, his sentinell, attends 
The flock so neare, so well warnes and defends, 
That the wolfe (hopelesse else) to corrupt her intends. 


He took a course, which since succesfully 411 

Great men have often taken, to espie 
The counsells, or to break the plotts, of foes ; 
To Abell's tent he stealeth in the darke, 414 

On whose skirts the bitch slept ; ere she could barke. 
Attached her with straight gripes, yet he call'd those 
Embracements of love ; to love's work he goes, 
"Where deeds move more then words ; nor doth she showe, 
Nor much resist, nor needs he straighten soe resistance 
His preye, for were she loose, shee would not barke 
nor goe. 420 

He hath engaged her ; his, shee wholly bides : 
Who not her owne, none other's secretts hides. 
If to the flock he come, and Abell there. 
She faignes hoorse barkings, but she biteth not ; hoarse 
Her faith is quite, but not her love, foigott 425 

At last a trapp, of which some everywhere 
Abell had placed, ends all his loss and feare. 
By the wolve*s death ; and now iust time it was. 
That a quick soule should give life to that mass 
Of bloud in Abel's bitch, and thither this did passe. 

Some have their wiues, their sisters some begott ; 

But in the lives of Emperours you shall not 

Head of a lust, the which may equall this : 

Tliis wolfe begott himselfe, and finished, 

What hee begann alive, when hee was dead. 435 


Sonne to himselfe, and father too, hee is 

A ridling lust, for which Schoohnen would misse 

A proper name. The whelpe of both those laye 

In Abell's tent, and with soft Moaha, 

His sister, beinge yonge, it us'd to sport and playe. 440 

He soone for her too harsh and churlish grew, 
And Abell (the dam -dead) would use this new 
For the feild ; beinge of twoe kinds thus made, 
Hee as his dam, from sheepe drove wolues awaye, 
And, as. his Sire, he made them his owne prey. 445 
Five years he liVd, and couzoned with his trade, 
Then, hopeless that his faultes were hid, betrayd 
Himsolfe by flight, and by all followed. 
From doggs a wolfe, from wolues a dogge, he fledd ; 
And, like a spie to both sides fiedse, he perished. 450 

It quickned next a toyfull Ape, and soe 
Gamesome it was, that it might freely goe 
From tent to tent, and with the children playe ; 
His organs now so like theirs he doth finde. 
That, why he cannot laugh and speake his minde, 455 
He wonders. Much with all, most he doth staye 
With Adam's fift daughter, Siphateria : 
Doth gaze on her, and, where she passeth, passe. 
Gathers her fruits, and tumbles on the grasse ; 
And, wisest of that kind, the first true lover was. 460 

He was the first, that more desired to have 
One than another j first, that ere did crave 


Loue by mute signes, and had no power to speake ; 
First, that could make loue-faces, or could doe 
The Taulter's sombersalts, or UB'd to woe woo 465 
With hoyting gamboles, his own bones to breake, 
To make his Mistress meny ; or to wreake. 
Her anger on himselfe. Sinns against kinde 
They easily doe, that can lett feede their mind 
With outward beauty ; beauty they in boyes and beasts 
do finde. 470 

By this misled, too lowe things men have proov'd, 
And too high ; beasts and Angells have been lou*d : 
This Ape, though els through-vayne, in this was wise ; 
Hee reach'd at things too high, but open waye 
There was, and hee knew not she would say naye. 475 
His toyes prevayle not, likelier meanes he tryes. 
He gazeth in her face with teare-shott eyes. 
And up-lifts subtly with his russett pawe 
Her kid-skin apron without feare or awe 479 

Of Nature ; Nature hath no jayle, though shoe hath lawc. 

First she was silly, and knew not what he meant : 
That vertue, by his touches chaf d and spent, 
Succeeds an itchye warmth, that melts her quite 
She knew not first, then cares not what he doth, 484 
And willinge halfe and more, more then half wroth than 
Shee neither pulls nor pushes, but outright 
Now cryes, and now repents ; when Thelemite, 
Her brother, entred, and a groate stone thrcwe 


After the Ape, who thus prevented flew. 489 

This house was battred down, the soule possest a new. 

And whether by this change shee loose or winne, lose 
She comes out next, where th' Ape would have gone in. 
Adam and Eve had mingled blouds, and nowe 
Like Chymique's equall fires, her temperate wombe 
Had stewed and form'd it : and part did become 495 
A spungie liver, that did ritchly allowe, 
Like a free conduit on a high hil's browe, 
Life-keepinge moysture unto every part ; 
Part hardened itselfe to a thicker b[e]art. 
Whose busie furnaces life's spiritts doe impart. 500 

Another part became the Well of sence, 
The tender well-arm'd feelinge braine, from whence 
Those sinewy strings, which do our bodies tye, 
Ar^ raueled out ; and, fast there by one end, 
Did this Soule limbes, these limbes a soule attend ; 505 
And now they ioyn'd, keeping some qualitie 
Of every past shape ; she knew treachery, 
Rapine, deceipt, and lust, and ils enough 
To be a woeman : Themech she is nowe, 509 

Sister and wife to Cayne, Caine, that first did plowc. 

Whoere thou bee that reade this sullen Writt, 
Which just so much courts thee, as thou do*8t it. 
Let me arrest thy thoughts ; wonder with mee 
Why plowing, building, rulinge and the rest, 

VOL. 1, N 


And most of those arts, whence our lives are blest,. 515 

By curs6d Caih's race invented bee, 

And blest Seath vext us with Astronomy. 

There's nothing simply good nor ill alone, 

Of every qualitie comparison 

The only measure is, and judge, Opinion. 520 


Liue 6, * throiigh .•' oar mb. reads * to ;* but the Poet says 
he singB all times, and draws the great world from infant mom 
to his aged evening, (therefore) * through* manly noon. Hence 
* through,' not * to,' is correct, the three clauses corresponding 
to ' before,' * when,' and ' since,' of 11. 8-4. 

Line 9, ' Sethe's pillars :' mythical antediluvian memorials. 
„ 11-12, *thee,' *thy:' our MS. mistakenly reads 'the' 
and ' this ;* and so elsewhere, to the disjointing of the contextual 

Line 17, * Mine.-* query = gold (mines) f 
„ 21, ' holy .•* our ms. again misreads ' any' for * holy.' 
There was but one Janus in ancient mythology, and Donne 
could hardly fail to remember this. Janus too, in the Latin 
mythology, was a particularly 'holy' god, and named before 
Jupiter as the beginner of all things, and the oldest of the gods 
in Italy. Then Donne clearly adopts the belief that Janus was 
Noah. He was led to use Janus, first, because his theme of 
Metempsychosis is a pagan one ; and secondly, because the men- 
tion of the sun led up to it, Janus being the sun-divinity under 
another name. 

Line 26, * Nephews' = descendants. See Thomas Wright's 
Prov. Diet. 8.V. for examples. 

Line 31, * CommUsarie,* Donne probably was thinking of 
those commissaries of the army who had the mustering of the 
men, and to all and everything being properly accoutred ; for 
at the date it is less likely that he would choose an ecclesias- 
tical metaphor, viz. the Bishop's commissary, ' who exercises 

TH£ PR00KB88 OF THE »OUL. 91 

ecclesiastical jurisdiction in those parts of the diocese so far 
remote from the see, that the chancellor cannot call the sah- 
jects thereof to the bishop's principal consistory without too 
much trouble' (Dyohe's Diet. s.v.). The same thought occurs 
again in Funeral Elegy on Mrs. Drury, 1. 95. 

Line 36, * vouchsafe .-' our ms. inadvertently reads * O vouch 
thou safe.' 

line 54, ' hold . . . lone .•' our ms. reads * shall* for ' hold,* 
and * loTe* for * lone ;' but the text seems preferable, agreeably 
to 1635, 1639, and others. 

Line 63, * the sea :* our ms. misreads * and,* no doubt from 
the confounding of * y^* and ' &.' 

Line 66, *BOtd .•* our ms. miswrites ' songe,* caught from pre^ 
ceding line ; and in 1. 74 drops * always,* while in 1. 88 ' enlive* 
is left blank, and 1. 94 * riyolets.* 

Line 84, ' Till .•* our ms. * Then.* Looking to the desciiption 
of its state, * fair and fenc*d that apple grew,* I think * Till* 
makes the determinate change (cf . 1. 124) better than * then,* 
which merely indicates a succession or sequence. 

Line 90, ' tainti .•* a legal reference or simile ; for * the de- 
scendants of one attainted of treason cannot be heirs to him, 
and if he be male, his posterity is thereby degraded ; nor can 
this corruption of blood be taken away but by act of Parlia- 
ment or writ of error* (Dyche, «. v. Attainted). 

Line 99, *|>atn.-* our ms. misreads * Sinn.* I say misreads, 
for it is not correct, and does not express the Poet's meaning 
to read * sinn.* By 1. 98 he is speaking of the sentence pro- 
nounced; the sentence would seem rigorous, viz. this one, that 
for her sin we bear punishment ; and then says part, not of 
our ' sin,* but of the result of the sin — part of the ' pain,' pcma^ 
or punishment inflicted on us — is to love, &o. 

Line 108, * Nor .** our ms. miswrites * Not.* 
„ 110, * irormtf* = the Serpent. So Shakespeare uses 
* worm :* ' Hast thou the pretty worm of Nilus ?' (Antony and 
Cleopatra, t. 2) and frequently. 

Line 123, ' this .* our ms. * the,* which makes it too general, 
while it is *this^ particular soul that is the subject of the 

Line 130, * pores .-"^ cf. our note on ' Abyss* in Southwell, 
p. 47. Our MS. misspells ' powers.* The thought is : As the 
water of a spring runs into the ocean, and thence filters back 
through the secret ways or veins of the earth to reappear as 


another spring, so this returned Bool, infased into the seed, 
came up with the plant through the earth*B ' pores.* 

line 181, * Tfie planV By the description, this was a man- 
drake. Occasionally the roots do, I helicTe, present a very 
grotesque resemblance to the human figure ; but of much of 
Donne's description may be said, with Parkinson, in Theat. 
Botan. (1640), *and therefore those idle formes of the man- 
drakes and womandrakes, as they are foolishly so called, which 
have been exposed to publiok view, both in ours and other 
lands and countries, are utterly deceitfuU, being the work of 
cunning knaves, onely to get mony by their forgery.' It would 
seem by his * Paradisus* that Parkinson tried to get the city 
magistrates to forbid the exhibition of these indecent forgeries, 
and with about the same success as in the later cases of * Ana- 
tomical Museums ;' and he is reasonably wrathful on the sub- 

The most established virtue of the mandrake was as a nar- 
cotic, and it is said to have been used as a * pain-killer,' as 
chloroform is now, in surgical operations. It was also said to 
be cooling, and locally an absorbent, and a remedy for inflamed 
eyes (U. 165-8). Legends link to it the love-charms of Circe, 
and it comes up in St. Augustine and other Fathers and medi- 
aBval Preachers to 'point a moral,' if not ' adorn a tale.' Donne 
works all manner of odd folk-lore into his descriptions, fresh 
probably from Holland's ' Pliny,' and the like. 

Line 184. The construction is, The spungy confines [being] 
thronged so or thrust about by this root 

Line 187, *fiU .' our us. misreads « fill'd.' 
„ 144, ' As' dropped in our ms. inadvertently. 
„ 150, * kindle .' our ms. * kinde,' and so too 1688. * Kin- 
dle' was doubtless the author's word=his apples ' kindle' force 
of conception, or are aphrodisiac ; his leaves [having the oppos- 
ing efifect] kill force of conception, or are anaphrodisiao. 

Lines 156-7. Whether Donne drew from some of the knave- 
ries spoken of by Parkinson, we cannot tell ; but the fruit is 
described by the latter in his first book of the * Paradisus' as 
pale red, and in his Theat. Botan. as * yellow as gold, and the 
bignesse of a reasonable pippin.' Bartholomew also calls it 

Line 168, * child's .•' ms. ' cheek's :' a mistake. 
„ 171. See this idea expanded in 2d Anniversary, 1. 185 
et neqq. 


Line 178, * a :* ms. ' was.' 
„ 180, ' inclos'd :' ib. * encloth*d. 

Ibid. *peck'd.'* asaally 'picked' and 'pic*d:* reminds of the 
slang phrase, ' Does your mother know jou^re ont V 

Line 200. This thought is freely used in the Elegies, as 
noted in the places. 

Line 202, * ingress* = engross or take possession of: here= 
many, a verb and sense probably peonliar to Donne. « 

Line 208 =* Till now [till they haye taken laws] 'twas not 
unlawful, therefore ftwas not] ill or eyil.' All this is paren- 
thetical or digressional. Then Donne returns from his digres- 
sion to his ' sparrow,' and says, * So joUy is this body that it 
can moTC this soul (or bear it along to sympathise with its 
lust) ; so free [is it] of kindness [* his' being used as = * its,' 
and ' kindness' in a punning sense of acts of kind] that, Ao, 

Line 204, * iollie,* See Satire i. 1. 7. The two senses in 
which this word is used seem to have arisen from a fusing into 
one of two similar-sounding words — one the French jolit the 
other from the root jay^ or from a using of the more foreign 
joli as a quasi joy-2y. 

Line 210. Pliny records a belief that the cock-spa^^w only 
liyed a year, the hen longer. Bartholomew states, contrary to 
Donne, that * the cock is very jealous of his wife, and flghteth 
oft for her, as Aristotle saith.' 

Line 212, * gummie hlood,* It would seem that bird-lime 
was formerly extracted from hoUy. 

Line 217. The sparrow, when eaten, was supposed from its 
nature to be provocative, like the roots of the mandrake, erin- 
goes, and potatoes. Its gall was alleged to have the same ef- 
fect, and its dung powdered in wine, and specially its brains 
and eggs. 

Line 227, * tii/brm'<r=gave it form. 
„ 258, ' As*,^ 1 place=' so' in margin=in that manner, 
also, a usage not uncommon. Otherwise we have an intoler- 
ably long ellipse. 

Line 266. Our us. misreads ' and' for ' or,' and ' her' for 
* like ;' and 1. 267, * weather' for * water;' and 1. 279, * And are' 
for * As are.' 

Line 266, ' limbeck* = alembic : said to mean properly the 
head fitted on to a flask or other distilling vessel. Qesner's 
Jewell of Health, translated by Baker, fol. 23 ; but used by the 
same author and others to mean the distilling vessel generally. 


Line 251. UsxiAlly * the' for ' her,' badly ; and line 275, * the' 
for * hie/ badly. 

line 290. In Elizabeth's reign fish-days were enacted, not 
as religions fast-days, bnt to encourage the fish-trade and onr 
breed of seamen. 

Line 298, * erre'=go, wander away. 
„ 810, * kullinge'=msLkmg a vessel like a (mere) hnll, by 
taking in all or almost all sail. This is done either in calms or 
when a ship is lying-to in a storm. 

Line 815, *harke*=Blan. Gf. sere-bark, Elegy ii., and re- 
lated note. 

Line 845, *out-streat:' our ms. misreads ' ore-streat.' For 
the sake of the rhyme straight or stranght, the past forms of 
stretch, is brought down to * streat.' Therefore from the verb 
used, and from the verb suck, the preposition must be ' out,' not 
' ore.' The sense is — nor suck those oils which [were] thence 
outstretched or out-drawn, or (if we take the verb not in a pas- 
sive sense, but as neuter-reflective) which thence stretched 
[themselves] out, or exuded, or poured out. I accept ' outstreat' 
of the printed text. 

Line 860, ' dole :' share, portion : from the verb to * deal.' 
So Hall (Satires, b. iv. s. ii.), *more than is some hungry gal- 
lant's dole,* 

Line 376, * have not :' our ms. reads ' not havinge,' but does 
not correct itself grammatically, as it leaves ' not enjoy,' and 
requires * not enjoying.' 

Line 388. Our m s. reads ' though noe had gone,' which is 
somewhat bewildering. The usual printed text which we have 
accepted is poorly expressed yet intelligible = the elephant did 
not seek to be intellectually or cunningly wise after the world's 
wisdom, and like a tyrant, great one, or statesman, but sought 
to be morally wise and good. 

Line 885. I do not know the originator of this belief, for 
Pliny, and Bartholomew following him, make him able to 

Line 895. * Of tJl other living creatures, they [elephants] 
cannot abide a mouse or rat, and if they peroeiue that their 
provender lying in the manger tast or scent never so little of 
them, they refuse it and wiU not touch it' (Holland's Pliny, 
book viii. c. 11). The death by a mouse comes up often else- 


Line 898, ' room«*= station or state. 
„ 400, * any -whither :* our us. misreads * anj-where.* 
„ 408. I do not know where Donne got this idea. Bar- 
tholomew says, * the wolfe whelpeth hlind whelpes.* 

Line 410, * else.* American edit, misprints * self,* and in line 
487 * riding.* 

Line 429, * quick' =HYing. See Mr. W. Aldis WrighVs Bihle 
Word-Book, t.v. 

Line 462, * a$iother:' onr ms. reads * the other.* The MB. at 
first sight seems better ; but it is seen, on consideration, to limit 
him to two, as though l^e were Isaac, whereas he is speaking of 
snch community as exists among the sparrows. 

Line 465. From other writings it appears that the loyers of 
Elizabeth*s days used to woo their mistresses with, and rannt 
their feats of actiyity on, the yatilting horse. Sombersalts means 
any such feats of leaping, not summersets merely as now un- 
derstood. Cf. Cotgraye. Mercury [describing Hedon, a court 
gallant] ' . . . He courts ladies with how many great horse he 
hath rid that morning, or how oft he hath done the whole or 
half the pommado [vaulting the wooden horse] in a seyen-night 
before : and sometimes yentures so far upon the yirtue of his 
pomander, that he dares tell 'em how many shirts he has sweat 
at tennis that week* (Oynthia*s Beyels, act ii. sc. 1). 

Line 466, * hoy ting:* Richardson says, to * hoit* is to raise, 
leap up or about ; and, to prove it, gives the remarkable proof 
that under Hatuter, to hoise, Gotgrave explains = that would 
set him on the height. From the two senses in which Hoydon 
and Hqyden are u8ed=lumpiBh, clownish, and full of frolic, and 
from the similar significations given to Hoit in HalUwell*s Arch. 
Diet., it may be that two words have become confounded ; and 
this is rendered likely by Jonson*s phrase (T. of a Tub, ii. 1), as 
compared with Heywood*s and Cotgrave*s. But I am inclined 
to deduce one sense, if not both, from hoi, the term used hy 
swineherds. A hoydon would then be a stupid lumpish fellow, 
like a swineherd ; and hoit might be riotous, like one who cries 
hoi. To be riotous suits the passage from B. and Fletcher, and 
suits Donne here better than * leaping,* and agrees better with 
the phrase ' hoity-toity.* 

Line 481, ' silly* = innocent, as shown by the succeeding 
words, * that virtue.' 

Line 482. There is here the common and reprehensible 
omission of a preposition ; reprehensible, because it is required 



to Bhow that the oonstrnotion is mTerted=an itohy warmth 
Buoceeds [to] that virtne of innoednce. 
Line 484, * then :* nsnally * nor.' 
„ 611, '«uU0n*= unsociable. Bee Satire iii. line 51. 
516, * And :' nsnaUj * or.' G. 





VOL. I. 

08 ELE01B8. 


* Elegy,* in its primary and restricted sense, was a song of 
monming, like the nightingale's; and as snch is popularly as- 
sociated with deaths and funerals. There has always been a 
wider sense in which it has been applied to poems ' intermed- 
dling' with any intellectual, moral, or spiritual subject, com- 
posed in the elegiac metre or distich, and sometimes irrespec- 
tive of the metrical form. We have a magnificent example of 
such Elegy in the Nosce teipsum of Sir John Davies. Donne 
probably calls his ' Elegies' after the Amoret of Ovid, touching 
as they all do, directly or inferentially, on the lights and sha- 
dows of Love. 

I place these Elegies next to the Satires, because through- 
out they partake of thdir characteristics alike in subject and 
treatment ; so much so, that I have found them in various con- 
temporary Mss. headed Satires, with the numbers running on 
continuously from the usual six, and in others some of the six 
intermingled with them. So too are the Epistles found. On 
these MSB. and related topics, see our Preface (vol. i.), and Essay 
(vol. ii.). 

I remove the * Anatomie' from the ' Funeral Elegies' to this 
division, because (a) it is the avowed continuation of the earlier 
* Progress of the Soul,' as pointed out in the relative note at 
close of its Epistle, (b) It was not really a * funeral' elegy, but 
an indulgence of the * Pleasures of Imagination' on an ideal 
woman, .not without sarcastic and satiric castigation of the sex 
and the times, as in the Satires. (See extracts from one of Dr. 
Donne's Letters bearing on this in our Essay.) (c) It claims an 
early place in the volume as having been the only considerable 
poem published by the author himself. On the other hand, I 
have assigned to the ' Funeral Elegies* one usually included in . 
the Elegies simple (explained in its place), viz. that which be- 
gins, * Language, thou art too narrow,' &c. 

An endeavour has been made to rearrange these * Elegies,' 
so as to give more homogeneity to them. I put in the place of 
honour the finest of them all — and it is supremely fine — that 
magnanimous and pathetic celebration of his farewell to his 
young wife when refusing her passionate appeal to be allowed 
to accompany him in the guise of a page ; a poem that has justly 

ELEaiE8. 99 

won the high praifie of all capable critics from the time of its 
publication to Coleridge and Dean Milman. 

One of these Elegies I should willingly have left unprinted. 
It is sensual and abominable ; but on consulting with literary 
friends, I found the judgment unanimous that an expurgated 
edition of Donne would be of no value to students of our Litera- 
ture and Manners ; and I have, though reluctantly, acquiesced, 
keeping in mind that my limited number of copies and non- 
publication secures that the book will find its way only to those 
who turn to it for literary ends. The remark applies to others 
and occasional lines — on all which, and above critical opinions, 
I speak farther in my already-named Essay. 

Full information on the source of each Elegy will be found 
in the Notes and Illustrations appended in their successive 
places. One that has been claimed for Ben Jonson (* The Ex- 
postulation*) I show in related note to belong to Donne, not- 
withstanding its appearance in that most uncritical posthumoua 
collection of the ' Underwoods.' G. 







The earliest known edition of the ' Anatomie* beftrs the date 
of 1611, and it eonsiste of only * The Fint Annivenary.' Two 
copies have oome down, one preserved in the Bridgewater 
Lihrary, and another in the peerless Library 6t the Bey. Thomas 
Gorser, M. A., Stand Beotory, Manchester. I giye a description 
of it (perus me) from Dr. Eingsley of Bridgewater House : * An 
Anatomy of the World. Wherein by occasion of the untimely 
death of Mistris Elizabeth Dnuy, the frailty and the Decay of 
this whole world is represented. London: Printed for Samuel 
Maoham, and are to be solde at his shop in Paules Churchyard, 
at the Signe of the Bulhead, An. Dom. 1611.* 8vo, 16 leaves. 

In 1612 both parts were issued with separate title-pages, as 
follows : 

The Firtt Atmiuersarie. 



of the World. 

' Wherein, 
By Occasion Of 
tfie vntimely death of MUtrU 

Elizabbth Dbvbt, 

the frailtie and the decay of 

this whole World is 


[Printer's device] 


Printed by M. Bradwood for 8, Macham, and are 

to be sold at his shop in Pauls Church-yard at the 
signe of the Bull-head. 1612. 



[Collation : Title-page (aB al)OTe),Tothe praise of the dead, 
&e, pp. 6 [nnpaged] and pp. 54 ; 'A Fvnerall Elegie,* occnpy- 
^S PP* 45-64, and two blank pages with head and margin 

The Second Annitienarie. 



of the Sonle. 


By Occasion Of The 

Religions Death of Biistris 


the incommodities of the Sonle 

in this life avid her exaltation in 

the next are Contemp- 



Printed by M. Bradwood for 8. Maeham, and are 

to be sonld at his shop in Panls Chnroh-yard at 

the signe of the Bnll-head. 


[Collation: Title-page (as above), The Harbinger to the 
Progress, pp. 5 (reverse blank ; nnpaged) and pp. 49, with three 
pages blank, and head and margin lines.] 

Another edition of the complete Poem was published in 1621 
with separate title-pages (as before) identical with the former, 
but ' Printed by A . Mathewes tor Tho, Dewe^ and are to be sold 
at his shop in Saint Dnnstons Chnrch-yard in Fleetestreete, 
1621 :* same number of pages in each. The last recorded sepa- 
rate edition appeared in 1625, again identical with the preced- 
ing ; but ' Printed by W. Stamhy for Tho, Dewe, and are to be 


Bold in 8. DanstsneB Chnrcli-jard, 1626.* These are all neat, 
quaint little volnmeB (18mo), and are exceBBively rare. 

Onr text is that of 1625, as being the last isBaed daring the 
Anthor'B lifetime ; but the result of an anxious collation of all 
the printai editions and if ss. shows variations to be mostly mere 
differences in orthography ; but see our Notes and Illustrations 
at close. 

It will be noticed that the name of Donne nowhere appears 
in the four editions enumerated; but it immediately became 
known that he was the author of the ' Anatomic.* A hitherto 
oyerlooked evidence of this I have discovered in John Davies 
of Hereford*s *The Muse's Sacrifice/ published in. 1612, that 
is in the same year with the first edition of the completed poem. 
In ' A Funeral Elegie on the death of the most virtuous and no 
lesse lonely Mrs. Elizabeth Dutton, eldest daughter of the 
worthy and generally beloued Sir Thomas Egerton, . . . 1611,* 
we read as follows : 

' I must oonfene a priest of Phebos, late 
Vpon like text so well did meditate, 
That with a sintesse enuy I doe runne 
In bis Soole's Progreese, till it all be DONNB. 
Bat, he hath got the start in setting forth 
Before me, in the traoell of that worth : 
And me oat-gone in knowledge eu'ry way 
Of the Soale's Progresse to her final] Bt«y. 
Bat hia sweet Saint did vsher mine therein ; — 
Most blest In that— so, he must needs beginne ; 
And read vpon the rode Anatomy 
Of this dead World ; that now, doth pntrifie. 
Yet greater will to this great enterprize — 
Whidi in great matters nobly doth soffloe— 
He oannot bring than I ; nor can— mach lesse — 
Renowne more worth than is a Worthiness I 
Sach were they both ; for such a worthy Paire^ 
Of lonely yertooos maides, as good as fsire — 
Selfe- Worthiness can scarBO prodnoe, sith they ; 
Lin'd like oelestiall spirits, liamar'd in clay t 
And if all-nowerfull Lone can all performe, 
That in it hath rare matter, or like forme. 
Thai should my lines hane both so aooompUshdd, 
As from the graue to Heau'n shadd draw the dead ; 
Or, will her taper-potntcd-beamlng name, 
Naile her to Hoau'n, and in Hcan'n clench the same.' 

(pp. 117-118.) 

These lines, rough and obscure in parts, are yet of rare inter- 
est in relation to our Worthy as * a prie$t ofPhehus, ' I am not 
aware that they have ever been noticed before. 

Of *■ Mrs. Elizabeth Drury' and these poems, see more in 
our Essay prefixed to vol. ii. G. 



Well dy'de the World, that we. might line to see 

This world of wit, in his Anatomie : 

No euiU wantiis his good ; so wilder heyres 

Bedew their fathers' toombs with forced teares, 

Whose state requites their losse : whiles thus we gaine, 5 

Well may we walkein blacks, but not complaine. 

Yet how can I consent the world is dead, 

While this Muse liues % which in his spirit's stead 

Seemes to informe a World, and bids it bee. 

In spight of losse, or fraile mortalitee ? 10 

And thou the subiect of this wel-bomo thought, 

Thrise-noble maid, could'st not haue found nor sought 

A fitter time to yeeld to thy sad fate, 

Then whiles this spirit liues ; that can relate than 

Thy worth so well to our last nephews' eyne, 15 

That they shall wonder both at his, and thine : 

AdmirM match ! where striues in mutuall grace 

The cunning pencill and the comely face ! 

A taske, which thy faire goodnesse made too much 

For the bold pride of vulgar pens to tuch : 20 

VOL. I. P 


Enough is us to praise them that praise thee, 

And say that but enough those praises bee, 

Which, had^st thou liu'd, had hid their fearefuU head 

From the 'angry checkings of thy modest red : 

Death bars reward and shame ; when enuy's gone 25 

And gaine ; *tis safe to giue the dead their owne. 

As then the wise Egyptians wont to lay 

More on their tombes then houses ; — these of clay, than 

But those of brasse or marble were ; — so wee 

Giue more unto thy ghost then unto thee. than 30 

Yet what wee giue to thee, thou gauest to us, 

And maie*st but thanke thyselfe for being thus : 

Yet what thou gau'st and wert, 0, happy maid, 

Thy grace profest all due, where 'tis repayd. 

So these high songs, that to thee suited bine, 35 

Serve but to sound thy Makei^s praise in thine ; 

Which thy deare soule as sweetly sings to Him 

Amid the quire of saints and seraphim, 

As any angel's tongue can sing of thee ; 

The- subjects differ, tho the skill agree : 40 

For as by infant yeares men iudge of age, 

Thy early loue, thy vertues did presage 

What hie part thou bear^st in those best of songs. 

Whereto no burden, nor no end belong& 

Sing on, thou virgin soule, whose lossefuU gaine 45 

Thy loue-sicke parents hane bewail'd in vaine ; 

Ne'er may thy name be in our songs forgot, 

Till we shall sing thy ditty and thy note. 



When that rich soule which to her heauen ifl gone tSoS?** 

Whom all doe celebrate, who know they 'haue one, — v^*®* 

For who is sure he hath a soule, vnlesse 

It see, and iudge, and follow worthinesse, 

And by deedes praise it ; hee who doth not this, 5 

May lodge an inmate soule, but 'tis not his, — 

When that queene ended here her progreese-time, 

And, as t' her standing-house, to heauen did clymbe, 

Where, loath to make the saints attend her long, 

Shee's now a part both of the quire and song. 10 

This world, in that great earthquake languished ; 

For in a common bath of teares it bled, 

Which drew the strongest vitall spirits out. 

But succoured them with a perplexed doubt. 

Whether the world did loose, or gaine in this ; — 1 5 

Because since now no other way there is 

But goodnesse, to see her, whom all would see. 

All must endeuour to bee good as shoe. — 

This great consumption to a feuer turnd, 

And so the world had fits ; it ioy'd, it moumd ; 20 

And, as men tfainke, that agues physicke are, 

And th' ague being spent, giue ouer care. 


So thou, sicke World, mistak'st thy selfe to bee 

Well, when alas, thou 'art in a letaigee. lethargy 

Her death did wound and tame thee than, and than then 

Thou mightst haue better spared the sunno or man; 26 

That wound was deepe, but 'tis more misery, 

That thou hast lost thy sense and memory : 

'Twas heauy then to heare thy voice of mone, 

But this is worse, that thou art speechlesse growne. 30 

Thou hast forgot thy name thou hadst ; thou wast 

Nothing but she, and her thou hast o'repast. 

For as a child kept from the fount, vntill 

A prince, expected long, come to fulfill 

The ceremonies, thou vnnam'd hadst laid, 35 

Had not her comming, thee her palace made : 

Her name defin'd thee, gaue thee forme and frame. 

And thou forgetst to celebrate thy name. 

Some moneths shee hath bene dead — but being dead, 

Measures of times are all determined — 40 

But long shee 'ath beene away, long, long : yet none 

Offers to teil vs, who it is that's gone ; 

But as in states doubtfull of future heyres. 

When sicknesse without remedy empayres 

The present prince, they're loth it should be said, 45 

The prince doth languish, or the prince is dead. 

So mankind, feeling now a generall thaw, 

A strong example gone, equall to law. 

The cyment, which did faithfully compact 

And glue all vertues, now resoluVl and slack'd, 50 

■wff!^«^p"'*!-"-^ i« y W .-.?. 



Thought it some blasphomy to say sh' was dead, 

Or that our weaknesse was discouer^d 

In that confession ; therefore spoke no more 

Then tongues, the soule being gone, the losse deplore. 

But, though it be too late to succour thee, 55 

Sicke World, yea, dead, yea, putrified, since shee, 

Thy 'ntrinsicque balme and thy preseruatiue. 

Can neuer be renew'd, thou neuer line ; 

I — since no man can make thee line — will trie 

What we may gaine by thy Anatomy. 60 

Her death hath taught vs dearely, that thou art 
Corrupt and mortall in thy purest part. 
Let no man say, the World it selfe being dead, 
'Tis labour lost to haue discouer^d 
The World^s infirmities, since there is none 65 

Aliue to study this dissectione : 
For there's a kind of world remaining still. ^^ *^{« 

° the world 

Though shee which did inanimate and fill ^^^ ^^"• 

The world, be gone, yet in this last long night 

Her ghost doth walke 3 that is, a glimmering light, 70 

A faint weake loue of vertue, and of good 

Eeflects from her on them which ynderstood 

Her worth ; and though she haue shut in all day, 

The twilight of her memory doth stay. 

Which from the carcasse of the old world, free, 75 

Creates a new world ; and new creatures bee 


Produced : the matter and the stufife of this, 
' Her vertue, — and the forme, our practise is. 
And though to be thus elemented, arme 
These creatures, from hom-bome intrinsique harme — 
For all assumed vnto this dignitee, 8i 

So many weedlesse paradises bee, 
Which of themselues produce no venemons sinne, 
Except some forraine serpent bring it in^ 
Yet, because outward stormes the strongest breake, 85 
And strength it selfe by confidence growes weake, 
This new world may be safer, being told 

The iidk- The dangers and diseases of the old ; 

World. For with due temper men doe then forgoe 

Or couet things, when they their true worth know. 90 

impoflsi. There is no health : physitians say that wee 

health. At best enioy but a neutralitee ; 

And can there be worse sicknes then to know, than 

That we are neuer well, nor can be so ? 

Wee are borne ruinous : poore mothers cry, 95 

That children come not right, nor orderly. 

Except they headlong come, and fall vpon 

An ominous precipitation. 

How witty's mine ! how importunate 

Vpon mankinde ! it laboured to firustrate 100 

Euen God's purpose, and made woman, sent 

For man's reliefe, cause of his languishment ; 

They were to good ends, and they are so still, 

But accessorie, and pnncipall in ill ; 


For Uiat first marriage was our funerall ; , 105 

One woman at one blow then kild vs all ; 

And singly, one by one they kill vs now. 

Wee doe delightfully ourselues allow 

To that consumption ; and profusely blinde, 

We kill oarselues to propogate our kinde. 1 10 

And yet we doe not that ; we are not men : 

There is not now that mankinds, which was then, 

Whenas the sun, and man, did seeme to striue — shortneBae 


Joynt-tenante of the world — ^who should suruiye ; 

When stag and rauen, and the long-liu'd tree, 115 

Compar'd with man, dy'de in minoritee ; 

When, if a slow-pac*d starre had stolne away 

From the obseruer's marking, he might stay 

Two or three hundred yeeres to see't againe. 

And then make yp his obseruation plaine ; i7o 

When, as the age was long, the sise was great ; 

Man's grouth confessed and recompenced the meat, 

So spacious and large, that euary soule 

Did a faire kingdome and large realme controule ; 

And when the very stature thus erect 125 

Did that soule a good way towards heauen direct ; 

Where is this mankind now f who lines to age, 

Fit to be made Methusalem, his pagel 

Alas ! we scarse line long enough to trie 

Whether a true-made clocke run right, or lie. 130 

Old gransires talks of yesterday with sorrow. 

And for our children we reserue to-morrow. 


So short is life, that euery peasant striues. 
In a tome house, or field, to haue three Hues. 
And, as in lasting, so in length, is man 135 

snminease Contracted to an inch, who was a span : 

of Btatore. ' r 7 

For had a man at first in forrests stray'd 

Or shipwrack*d in the Sea, one would haue laid 

A wager, that an elephant or whale 

That met him, would not hastily assaile 140 

A thing so equall to him ; now alasse ! 

The fiayries and the pigmies well may passe 

As credihle ; mankinde decaycs so soone, 

We're scarse our fathers' shadowes cast at noone : 

Onely death ads t* our length ; nor are we growne adds 

In stature to he men, till wee are none. 146 

But this were light, did our lesse volume hold 

All the old text ; or had we chang'd to gold 

Their siluer, or disposed into lesse glas 

Spirits of vertue, which then scattred was : 150 

But 'tis not so : we're not retired but dampte ! 

And, as our bodies, so our mindes are cramptc : 

'TIS shrinking, not cIosq weaving, that hath thus 

In minde and bodie both bed warfM vs. 

We seeme ambitious God's whole worke t' vndoe ; 155 

Of nothing He made vs, and wee striue too, 

To bring ourselues to nothing backe ; and we 

Do what we can to do't so soone as He : 

With new diseases on ourselues we warre, 

And with new physicke, a worse engin farre. 160 


Thus Man, this world's vice-empeiour, in whom 

All faculties, all graces are at home, — 

And if in other creatures they appeare, 

They're but man's ministers and legats there, 

To worke on their rebellions, and reduce 165 

Them to ciuility and to man's vse ; — 

This man, whom God did woo, and loth t' attend 

Till man came vp, did downe to man descend ; 

This man, so great, that all that is, is his, 

Oh what a trifle, and poore thing he is ! 170 

If man were any thing, he's nothing now ; 

Helpe, or at least some time to wast, allow 

T* liis other wants, yet when he did depart. 

With her whom we lameiit, hee lost his heart 

She, of whom th' Ancients seem'd to prophesie, 175 

When they call'd vertues by the name of Shee ; 

She, in whom vertue was so much refln'd, 

That for allay vnto so pure a minde alloy 

Shee took the weaker sex ; shee, that could driue 

The poysonous tincture and the stayne of £ue 1 80 

Out of her thoughts and deedes, and purifie 

All, by a true religious alchimy ; 

Shee, shee is dead, shee's dead : when thou knowest this, 

Thou knowest how poore a trifling thing man is. 

And leam'st thus much by our Anatomee, 1 85 

The heart being perish'd, no part can be free. 

And that except thou feede — not banquet — on 

The supematurall foode, Religion, 

VOL. I. Q 


Thy better growth growes whithered and scant ; 

Bee more than man, or thou'rt lesse than an ant. 190 

Then, as mankinde, so is the world's whole frame 
Quite out of ioynt, almost created lame : 
For, before God had made vp all the rest, 
Corruption entred and deprau'd the best ; 
It seis'd the angels, and then first of aU 195 

The world did in her cradle take a fall. 
And turned her brains, and tooke a generall maimo. 
Wronging each joynt of th* vniversall frame. 
Decay of The uoblest part, man, felt it first ; and than then 

nature in 

other Both bcasts and plants, curst in the curse of man : 200 

parts. ^ ' 

So did the world from the first houre decay, 

That euening was beginning of the day ; 

And now the Springs and Sommers which we see, 

Like sonnes of women after fiftie bee. 

And new philosophy calls all in doubt, 205 

The element of fire is quite put out ; 

The sunne is lost, and th' Earth ; and no man's wit 

Can well direct him where to looke for it. 

And freely men confesse that this world's spent, 

When in the planets and the firmament 210 

They seeke so many new ; they see that this 

Is crumbled out againe to his atomis. 

'Tis all in pieces, all cohaerence gone. 

All iust supply, and all relation : 


Prince, subject, father, sonne, are thiogs forgot, 215 

For eueiy man alone thinkes he hath got 

To be a phoenix, and that there can be 

None of that kinde, of which he is, but he. 

This is the world's condition now, and now 

She, that should all parts to reunion bow ; 220 

She, that had all magnetique force alone 

To draw and fasten sundred parts in one ; 

She, whom wise nature had inuented then, 

When she obseru'd that euery sort of men 

Did in their voyage in this world's Sea stray, 225 

And needed a new compasse for their way ; 

Shee that was best and first originall 

Of all faire copies, and the generall 

Steward to Fate ; she, whose rich eyes and brest 

Guilt the West-Indies, and perfum'd the East ; 230 

Whose hauing breath'd in this world, did bestow 

Spice on those lies, and bade them still smell so ; 

And that rich Indie which doth gold interre, 

Is but as single money coyn'd from her ; 

She, to whom this world must it self refer, 235 

As suburbs, or the microcosme of her ; 

Shee, shee is dead, shee's dead : when thou knowest this,* 

Thou knowest how lame a cripple this world is. 

And leam'st thus much by our Anatomy, 

That this world's generall sicknesso doth not lie 240 

In any humour, or one certaine part. 

But as thou sawest it rotten at the heart. 


Tliou seest a hectique feuer hath got hold 

Of the whole substance, not to be contrould ; 

And that thou hast but one way not t' admit 245 

The world's infectioD, — ^to be none of it 

For the world's subtilst immatenall parts 
Feele this consuming wound, and Age's darts. 
ity ot^' For the world's beauty is decay'd or gone, 

Beauty, that's colour and proportion. 250 

We thinke the heauens enioy their sphericall. 

Their round proportion embracing all, 

But yet their various and perplex^ course, 

Obseru'd in diuerse ages, doth enforce 

Men to finde out so many eccentrique parts, 255 

Such diuers downe-right lines, such ouerthwarts, 

As disproportion that pure forme ; it teares 

The firmament in eight-and-forty sheeres, 

And in fhese constlllations then arise constellations 

New starres, and olde do yanish from our eyes ; 260 

As though heau'n su£fered earthquakes, peace or war, 

When new towers rise, and old demolish't are. 

They haue impayld within a Zodiake 

The free-borne sun, and keep twelue signes awake 

To watch his steppes ; the Goat and Grabbe controule 

And fright him backe, who els to either pole — 266 

Did not these Tropiques fetter him — might runne ; 

For his course is not round ; nor can the sunne 


Perfit a circle, or maintaine his way perfect 

One incbe direct ; but where he rose to day 270 

He comes no more, but with a cousening line, 

Steales by that point, and so is serpentine. 

And seeming wearie with his reeling thus. 

He meanes to sleepe, being now falne nearer vs. 

So, of the starres, which boast that they doe runne 275 

In circle still, none ends where he begunne : 

All their proportion's lame, it sinckee, it swels ; 

For of meridians and parallels, 

Man hath weaued out a net, and this net throwne 

Ypon the Heauens ; and now tbey are his owne. 280 

Loth to goe vp the hill, or labour thus 

To goe to heauen, we make heauen come to vs ; 

We spur, we raigne the starres, and in their race rein 

They're diuersly content t' obey our peace. pace 

But keepes the Earth her round proportion still t 285 

Doth not a Tenarif, or higher hill 

Else so high like a rocke, that one might thinke 

The floating moone would shipwracke there, and sinke 

Seas are so deepe, that whales being strooke to-day, 

Perchance to-morrow scarse at middle way 290 

Of their wish'd ioumey's ende, the bottom, dye : 

And men, to sound depths, so much line vntie, 

As one might iustly thinke that there would rise 

At end thereof one of th' Antipodies : 

If vnder all, a vault infemall bee — 295 

Which sure is spacious, except that we 


Inuent another tonnent, that there must 
Millions into a strait hot roome be thrust — 
Then solidnesse and roundnesse haue no place : 
Are these but warts and pockholes in the face 300 
Of th* earth ? Thinko so ; but yet confesse, in this 
Dimi^cr The world's proportion disfigured is j 
worM. That those two legges whereon it doth rely, 
Eeward and punishment, are bent awry : 
And, oh ! it can no more be questionkl, 305 

That bcautie's best proportion, is dead. 
Since euen Griefe it selfe, which now alone 
Is left Ys, is without proportion. 
She, by whose lines proportion should bee 
Examined, measure of all symmetree, 310 

Whom had that Ancient scene, who thought soules made 
Of harmony, hee would at next haue said 
That harmony was shee, and thence infer 
That soules were but resultances from her. 
And did from her into our bodies goe, 315 

As to our eyes the formes from obiects flow ; 
Shee, who, if those great doctors truely said 
That the arke to man's proportion was made. 
Had been a type for that, as that might be 
A type of her in this, that contrary 320 

Both elements and passions liu'd at peace 
In her, who caus'd all ciuill war to cease ; 
Shee, after whom what forme soe're we see. 
Is discord and rude incongruitee ; 


Shee, shee is dead, sbee's dead ; when thou knowest this, 
Thou knowest how vgly a monster this world is ; 326 
And leamst thus much by our Anatomee, 
That here is nothing to enamour thee ; 
And that not onely faults in inward parts, 
Corruptions in our bndnes, or in our hearts, 330 

Poysoning the fountednes, whence our actions spring, 
Endanger vs ; but that if euery thing 
Be not done fitly 'nd in proportion, 
To satisfie wise and good lookers on — 
Since most men be such as most thinke they bee — 
They're lothsome too, by this deformitee. 336 

For good and well must in our actions meete ; 
Wicked is not much worse then indiscreet. than 

But beautie's other second element, 
Colour, and lustre now, is as neere spent ; 340 

And had the world his iust proportion. 
Were it a ring still, yet the stone is gone ; 
As a compassionate tuicuoyse which doth tell, 
By looking pale, the wearer is not well, 
As gold falls sicke, being stung with mercuiy, 345 
All the world's parts of such complexion bee. 
When nature was most busie, the first weeke, 
Swadling the new-borne Earth, God seemd to like 
That she should sport her selfe sometimes, and play. 
To mingle and vary colours euery day ; 350 


And then, as though shee could not make inow, 

Himselfe His yariouR rainbow did allow. 

Sight is the noblest sense of any one, 

Tet sight hath onely colour to feede on, 

And colour is decayd ; Summer's robe growes '355 

Duskie, and like an ofb-dyed garment showes. 

Our blushing ledde, which vs'd in cheekes to spred, 

Is inward sunke, and onely our soules are red. 

Perchance the world might haue recouerfed. 

If shee, whom we lament, had not beene dead ; 360 

But shee, in whom all white, and red, and blew — blue 

Beautie's ingredients — voluntary grew, 


As in an vnuext Paradise ; from whom 

Did all things' verdure and their lustre come ; 

Whose composition was miraculous, 365 

Being all colour, all diaphanous — 

For ayre and tire but thicke grosse bodies were, 

And liueliest stones but drowsie and pale to her — 

Shee, shee is dead, shoe's dead : when thou knowst this. 

Thou knowest how wan a gbbst this our world is ; 370 

And leamst thus much by our Anatomee, 

That it should more afiright then pleasure thee ; than 

And that, since all faire colour then did sinke, 

'Tis now but wicked vanitie to thinke 

To colour vitious deeds with good pretence, 375 

Or with bought colors to illude men's sense. 


Nor in ought more this world^s decay appeares, weaknesae 

in the 

Then that her influence th^ heau'n forheares, than want of 


Or that the elements doe not feele this. denoe of 


The father or the mother barren is : 380 "^d earth. 

The cloudes conceive not raine, or doe riotpowre, 

In the due birth-time, downe the balmy showre ; 

Th' ayre doth not motherly sit on the Earth, 

To hatch her seasons, and giue all things birth ; 

Spring-times were common cradles, but are toombes ; 

And false conceptions fill the generall wombos ; 386 

Th' ayre showes such meteors, as none can see 

Not onely what they meane, but what they bee : 

Earth such new wormee, as would haue troubled much 

Th' Egyptian Mages to haue made more such. Magi 

What artist now dares boast that he can bring 391 

Heauen hither, or constellate any thing, 

So as the influence of those starres may bee 

Imprisoned in an hearbe, or charme, or tree, 

And doe by touch all which those starres could doe ? 

The art is lost, and correspondence too ; 396 

For heauen giues little, and the Earth takes lesse, 

And man least knowes their trade and purposes. 

If this commerce 'twixt heauen and Earth were not 

Embarr^d, and all this traffique quite forgot, 400 

Shee, for whose losse wee haue lamented thus, 

Would worke more fully and powerfully on vs ; 

Since herbs, and roots by dying, lose not all, 

But they, yea ashes too, are medicinall, 

VOL. I. R 


Death could not quench her vertue so, but that 405 

It would be — if not followed — wondied at, 

And all the world would^bee one dying swan, 

To sing her funerall praise, and vanish than. then 

But as some serpents' poison hurteth not. 

Except it be from the liue serpent shot, 410 

So doth her vertue need her here, to fit 

That unto vs ; she working more then it than 

But she, in whom to such maturity 

Vertue was grown past grouth, that it must die ; 

She, from whose influence aU impression came, 415 

But by receiuer's impotencies, lame ; 

Who, though she could not transubstantiate 

All states to gold, yet guilded euery state. 

So that some princes haue, some temperance, 

Some counsellors some purpose to aduance 420 

The common profile ; and some people haue 

Some stay, no more then kings should giue, to craue; than 

Some women haue some taciturnity, 

Some nunneries, some graines of chastity, — 

She, that did thus much, and much more could do, 425 

But that our age was iron, and rusty too ; 

Shee, shee is dead, sheets dead ; when thou knowest this. 

Thou knowest how drie a cinder this world is. 

And leamst thus much by our Anatomic, 

That 'tis in vaine to dew or mollifie 430 

It with thy teares, or sweat, or blood : no thing 

Is worth our trauaile, griefe, or perisliing. 


But those rich ioyes, which did possesse her heart, 
Of which shoe's now partaker, and a part. 

But, as in cutting vp a man that's dead, 435 concia- 

The body will not last out, to haue read 
On euery part, and therefore men direct 
Their speech to parts, that are of most effect ; 
So the world's carkasse would not last, if I 
Were punctuall in this Anatomy ; 440 

Nor smels it well to hearers, if one tell 
Them their disease, who faine would thinke they're well. 
Here therefore be the end ; and, blessed maid. 
Of whom is meant what euer hath beene said, 
Or shall be spoken well by any tongue, 445 

Whose name refines course lines, and makes prose song; 
Accept this tribute, and his first yeeres rent, [coane 
Who, till his darke short taper's end be spent. 
As oft as thy feast sees this widowed earth, 
Will yeerely celebrate thy second birth, 450 

That is, thy death ; for though the soule of man 
Be got when man is made, 'tis borne but than, then 
When man doth die. Our bodi's as the wombe, 
And, as a midwife, Death directs it home ; 
And you her creatures, whom she workes upon, 455 
And haue your last and best concoction 
From her example and her vertue, if you 
In reuerence to her doe thinke it due, 



That no one should her prayses thus rehearse, 

As matter fit for Chronicle, not verse; 460 

Vouchsafe lo call to minde that God did make 

A last, and lastingst piece, a song. He spake 

To Moses to deliuer vnto all 

That song ; because He knew they would let fall 

The Law, the Prophets, and the Historie, 465 

But keepe the song still in their memory : 

Such, an opinion — in due measure — ^made 

Me this great office boldly to inuade ; 

Nor could incomprehensiblenesse deterre 

Me from thus trying to emprison her ; 470 

Which when I saw that a strict graue could doe, 

I saw not why verse might uQt doe so too. 

Verse hath a middle nature ; heauen keepes soules, 

The graue keeps bodies, verse the fieime enroules. 


'T18 lost, to trust a toombe with such a ghest. 

Or to confine her in a marble chest ; 

Alas, what's marble, jeat, or porphirie, 

Priz'd with the chrysolite of either eye, 

Or with those pearles and rubies which shee was ! 

loyne the two Indies in one tombe, 'tis glas — 

And so is all — to her materials, 

Though euery inche were ten Escurials ; 


Yet shoe's demolished ; can we keepe her then 

In workes of hands, or of the wits of men ? i o 

Can these memorials, lagges of paper, giue 

Life to that name, by which name they must line ? 

Sickly, alas, short-lin'd, aborted bee 

Those carkas verses, whose soule is not shee ; 

And can shee, who no longer would bee shee, 1 5 

Being such a tabernacle, stoope to bee 

In paper wrapt ; or, when shee would not lie 

In such an house, dwell in an elegie 1 

But 'tis no matter ; we may well allow 

Verse to Hue so long as the world will now, 20 

For her death wounded it. The world containes 

Princes for armes, and counseilers for braines, 

Lawyers for tongues, diuines for hearts — and more, 

The rich for stomachs, and for backes the poore ; 

The officers for hands, merchants for feet, 25 

By which remote and distant countries meet ; 

But those fine spirits, which doe tune and set 

This organ, are those peeces which beget 

Wonder and loue ; and these were she ; and she 

Being spent, the world must needs decrepit bee : 30 gn^jjinegge 

For since death will proceed to triumph still, 

He can finde nothing, after her, to kill, 

Except the world it selfe, so greats shee. 

Thus braue and confident may Nature bee ; 

Death cannot giue her such another blow, 35 

Because shee cannot such another show. 

of statarc. 


But must we say sheets dead? may't not be said. 

That as a sundred clocke is peecemeale laid, 

Not to bee lost, but by the maker's hand 

Eepolish'd without erroux then to stand, 40 

Or, as the Affrique Niger streame enwombs 

It selfe into the earth, and after comes — 

Hauing first made a naturall bridge, to passe 

For many leagues — farre greater then it was, than 

May't not be said, that her graue shall restore 45 

Her greater, purer, firmer then before % than 

Heauen may say this, and ioy in't ; but can wee, 

Who line, and lacke her, here this Vantage see f 

What is't to vs, alas, if there haue been 

An Angell made a Throne or Cherubin ? 50 

We lose by't ; and, as agfed men are glad, 

Being tasteless growne, to ioy in ioyes they had. 

So now the sicke-staru'd world must feed vpon 

This ioy, that we had her, who now is gone. 

Keioyce then. Nature and this world, that you — 55 

Fearing the last fires hastning to subdue 

Your force and vigor — ere it were neere gone, 

Wisely bestow'd and laid it aU on one ; 

One, whose cleare body was so pure and thin, 

Because it need disguise no thought within, 60 

'Twas but a through-light scarfe, her mind t' enroule. 

Or exhalation breath'd out from her soulej^ 

One, whom all men, who durst no more, admir*d. 

And whom, whoere had worth enough, desir'd ; whoe'er 


As, when a temple's built, saints emulate 65 

To which of them it shall be consecrate. 

But as when heauen lookes on ys with new eyes, 

Those new starres euery artist exercise ; 

What place t&ey should assigne to them, they doubt, 

Argue, and agree not, till those starres go out ; 70 

So the world studied whose this peece should be. 

Till she can be no bodie's else, nor shee : 

But like a lampe of balsamum, desir'd 

Rather t' adome then last, shee soone expird, than 

Cloth'd in her virgin-white integritie ; 75 

For marriage, though it doe not stain, doth dye. 

To 'scape th' infirmities which waite ypon 

Woman, shee went away before sh' was one ; 

And the world's busie noise to ouercome, «* 

Tooke so much death as seru'd for opium ; 80 

For though she could not, nor could chuse to die, 

Shee 'ath yeelded to too long an exstasie. 

He which, not knowing her said history, sad 

Should come to reade the booke of destinie. 

How faire and chast, humble and high shee 'ad been, 85 

Much promis'd, much perform'd, at not fifteene. 

And measuring future things by things before. 

Should turn the leafe to read, and read no more. 

Would thinke that either Destinie mistooke. 

Or that some leaues were tome out of the Booke ; 90 

But 'tis not so : Fate did but vsher her 

To yeares of reason's vse, and then infer 


Uer destinie to her selfe ; which libertie 

Shee iooke, but for thus much, thus much to die ; 

Her modestie not suffering her to bee 95 

Fellow-commissioner with Destinee, 

She did no more but die : if after her 

Any shall liue, which dare true good prefer, 

Euery such person is her deUgate, 

T accomplish that which should haue beene her fate. 1 00 

They shall make yp that Booke, and shall haue thankes 

Of Fate and her, for filling yp their blankes. 

For future vertuous deeds are legacies. 

Which from the gift of her example rise ; 

And *tis in heau*n part of spirituall mirth, 105 

To see how well the good play her, on earth. 




Two soules moue here, and mine — ^a third — must mone 

Paces of admiration, and of loue. 

Thy soule, deaie virgin, whose this tribute is, 

Mou'd from this mortall sphere to liuelj blisse ; 

And yet moues still, and still aspires to see 5 

The world's last day, thy glorie*s full degree ; 

Like as those starrs, which thou orelookest farre. 

Are in their place, and yet still mouM are : 

No soule — whiles with the luggage of this clay 

It clogged is ~ can follow thee halfe way, 10 

Or see thy flight, which doth our thoughts outgoo 

80 fast, as now the lightning moues but slow. 

But now thou art as high in heauen flowne, 

As heaun's from vs ; what soule besides thine owne 

Can tell thy ioyes, or say, he can relate 15 

Thy glorious ioumals in that blessed state 1 

I enuie thee, rich soule, I enuy thee, 

Although I cannot yet thy glorie see : 

And thou, Great spirit, which her's followed hast 

So fast, as none can follow thine so fast, 20 

VOL. I. s 



So far, as none can follow thine so farre — 
And if this flesh did not the passage barre, 
Hadst caught her — let me wonder at thy flight, 
Which long agone had'st lost the vulgar sight, 
And now mak'st proud the better eyes, that thay they 
Can see thee lessened in thine aery way. 26 

So while thou makst her soule by progresse knowne, 
Thou makst a noble progresse of thine owne ; 
From this world^s carkasso hauing mounted hie 
To that pure life of immortalitie ; 30 

Since, thine aspiring thoughts themselues so raise, 
That more may not beseeme a creature's praise ; 
Yet still thou vow*st her more, and euery yeare 
Mak'st a new progresse, while thou wandrest here. 
Still vpward mount ; and let thy Maker*s praise 35 
Honor thy Laura, and adome thy laies : 
And since thy Muse her head in heauen shrouds. 
Oh, let her neuer stoope below the clouds ! 
And if those glorious sainted soules may know 
Or what we doe, or what wee sing below, 40 

Those acts, those songs shall still content them best. 
Which praise those awfuU Powers, that make them 



Nothing could mako me sooner to confesse, 

That this world liad an euerlastingnesse, ?In*™" 

Then to consider that a yeare is runne, than 

Since both this lower world's and the sunne's sunne, 

The lustre and the vigor of this All, 5 

Did set ; 'twere blasphemie to say, did fall. 

But, as a ship which hath strooke sailes, doth nmne 

15y force of that force which before, it wonne ; 

Or as sometimes in a beheaded man, 

Though at those two Red Seas, which freely ranne, 10 

One from the trunke, another from the head, 

His soule be saild to her etemall bed, 

His eyes will twincke, and his tongue will roll, twinkle 

As though he beckned and cal*d backe his soule, 

He graspes his hands, and he puis vp his feet, 15 

And seemes to reach, and to step forth to meet 

His soule ; when all these motions which we saw, 

Are but as ice, which crackles at a thaw ; 

Or as a lute, which in moist weather, rings 

Her knell alone, by cracking of her strings ; 20 

So struggles this dead world, now shee is gone : 

For there is motion in corruption. 

As some daies are, at the creation nam'd, 

Before the sunne, the which fram'd daies, was fram'd, 


So after this sunne's set some show appearcs, 25 

And orderly vicisitude of yeares. 

Yet a new deluge, and of Lethe flood, 

Hath drown'd vs all ; all haue foi^got all good, 

Forgetting her, the maine resenie of all | 

Yet in this deluge, grosse and geuerall, 30 

Thou seest me striue for life ; my life shall bee 

To bee hereafter prais'd for praysing thee, 

Immortall mayd, who though thou would'st refuse 

The name of mother, be vnto my Muse 

A father, since her chast ambition is 35 

Yearely to bring forth such a child as this. 

These hymes may worke on future wits, and so 

May great grand-children of thy prayses grow, 

And so, though not reuiue, embalme and spice 

The world, which else would putrefie with vice. 40 

For thus, man may extend thy progeny, 

Yntill man doe but yanish, and not die : 

These hymns thy issue may encrease so long 

As till God's great ^Venite' change the song. 

A jurtesti.Xhirst for that time, my insatiate soule, 41; 

thiaworki. And seruc thy thirst with God's safe- sealing bowle. 
Bee tliirsty still, and drinke still, till thou goo 
To th' onely health ; to be hydroptique so. 
Forget this rotten world, and vnto thee 
Let thine owne times as an olde storie be; 50 

-^e not concerned, studie not why, nor whan, when 
Doe not so much as not beleeve a man ; 


For though to erre be worst, to try truths forth 

Is far more busines then this world is worth. than 

The virorld is but a carkasse ; thou art fed 55 

By it, but as a womie that carkasse bred ; 
And why should'st thou, poore worme, consider more 
When this world will grow better then before, than 
Then those thy fellow- wormes doe thinke vpone 
That carkasso's last resurrectione 1 60 

Forget this world and scarse thinke of it so 
As of old cloaths cast oif a yeere agoe. 
To be thus stupid is alacritie ; 
Men thus lethargique haue best memory. 
Looke ypward, that's towards her, whose happy state 65 
We now lament not, but congratidate. 
Shee, to whom all this world, twas but a stage 
Where all sat harkning how her youthfull age 
Should be emploid, because in all shee did 
Some jBgure of the golden times was hid ; 70 

Who could not lacke whatere this world could giue, 
Because shee was the forme that made it line ; 
Nor could complaine that this world was vnfit 
To bee staid in, then, when shee was in it ; 
Shee, that first tried indifferent desires 75 

By yertue, and vertue by religious fires ; 
Shee, to whose person paradise adhear'd, 
As Courts to princes ; shee, whose eyes enspheanl 
Star-light inough, t' haue made the South controll — 
Had shee beene there — the starfuU Northern pole ; 80 


Shee, shoe is gone, shec is gone : when thou knowest this, 
What fragmentary rubbidge this world is 
Thou knowest, and that it is not worth a thought ; 
He honours it too much, that thinkes it nought. 84 

contem- Thinke then, my soule, that death is but a groome, 

platlonof , , 

oiir state Which brings a taper to the outward roome, 

on our " ^ ' 

deathbed. Whence thou spiest first a little glimmering light, 
And after brings it nearer to thy sight ; 
For such approches doth heauen make in death : 
Thinke thy selfe labouring now with broken breath, 90 
And thinke those broken and soft notes to bee 
Diuision, and thy happiest harmonee ; 
Thinke thee laid on thy death-bed, loose and slacke; 
And thinke that but vnblnding of a packe. 
To take one precious thing, thy soule, from thence; 95 
Thinke thy selfe pach'd with feuer*s violence ; 
Anger thine ague more, by calMng it 
Thy physicke ; chide the slacknes of the fit. 
Thinke that thou hear'st thy knell, and thinke no more, 
But that, as bels caVd thee to Church before, 100 

So this to the triumphant Church calls thee ; 
Thinke Satan's sergeants round about thee bee. 
And thinke that but for legacies they thrust ; 
Giue one thy pride, to another giue thy lust ; 
Giue them those sins, which they gaue thee before, 1 05 
And trust th* immaculate blood to wash thy score ; 
Thinke thy friends weeping round, and thinke that thay 
Weepe but because they goe not yet thy way ; 


Thinke that they close thine eyes, and thinko in this, 

They that confesse much in the world, amisse, no 

Who dare not trust a dead man's eye with that, 

Which they from God and angels couer not ; 

Thinke that they shroud thee vp, and thinke from thence. 

They re-inuest thee in white innocence ; 

Thinke that thy hody rots, and (if so lowe — 115 

Thy soule exalted so — thy thoughts can goe) 

Thinke thee a prince, who of themselues create 

Wormes which insensibly devour their state ; 

Thinke that they bury thee, and thinke that right rite 

Laies thee to sleepe but a saint Lucie's night ; 1 20 

Thinke these things cheerfully, and if thou bee 

Drowsie or slacke, remember then that shee ; 

She, whose complexion was so* euen made. 

That which of her ingredients should inuade 

The other three, no feare, no Art could guessc : 125 

80 farre were all remould from more or lesse ; 

But as in mithridate, or iust perfumes. 

Where all good things being met, no one presumes 

To gouerne, or to triumph on the rest, 

Onely because all were, no part was, best ; 130 

And as, though all doe know, that quantities 

Are made of lines, and lines from points arise, 

None can these lines or quantities vnioynt, 

And say, this is a line, or this a point ; 

So, though the elements and humors were 135 

In her, one could not say, this gouemes there ; 


Whose euen constitution might have wonne 

Any disease to venter on the siinne, 

Rather then her ; and make a spirit feare, than 

That he to disuniting subiect were ; 140 

To whose proportions if we could compare 

Cubes, th* are vnstable ; circles, angulare ; 

Shee, who was such a chaine as Fate emploies 

To bring mankind all fortunes it enioyes, 

So fast, so euen wrought, as one would thinkc 145 

No accident could threaten any linke ; 

Shee, shee embraced a sicknesse, gaue it meat, 

The purest blood and breath that ere it eat ; 

And hath taught vs, that though a good man hath 

Title to heauen, and plead it by his faith, 150 

And though he may pretend a conquest, since 

Heauen was content to su£fer violence ; 

Yea, though he plead a long possession, too— [do — 

For they're in heauen on Earth, who heauen's workes 

Though he had right, and power, and place before, 155 

Yet death must vsher and vnlocke the doore. 

inoommo- Thinke further on thy selfe, my soule, and thinko 

ditiegof TT 1 n '1 1 • • 1 

the souio How thou at first wast made but in a sinke ; 

In the 

Body. Thinke, that it argued some infirmitee. 

That those two soules, which then thou found'st in mee, 
Thou fedst vpon, and drewst into thee, both 161 

My second soule of sence, and first of growth ; 
Thinke but how poore thou wast, how obnoxious, 
When a small lumpe of flesh could poyson thus : 


This curded milke, this poore vnlittered whelpe, 165 

My body, could, beyond escape or helpe, 

Infect thee with originall sinne, and thou 

Couldst neither then refuse, nor leaue it now ; 

Thinke,^ that no stubbome sullen anchorit, 

Which fixt to a pillar, or a graue, doth sit 170 

Bedded, and bath'd in all his ordures, dwels 

So fowly as our soules in their first-built eels : 

Thinke in how poore a prison thou didst lie 

After, enabled but to sucke and crie ; 

Thinke, when ^twas growne to most, 'twas a poore inne, 

A prouince packed vp in two yards of skinne ; 176 

And that vsurped, or threatned with the rage 

Of sicknesses, or their true mother. Age ; 

But thinke that Death has now enfranchis*d thee, HerUhMty 

' by death. 

Thou hast thy expansion now, and libertee ; 180 

Thinke, that a rusty peece dischai^*d is flowen 
In peeces, and the bullet is his owne, 
And freely files ; this to thy soule allow ; [now ; 

Thinke thy sheell broke, thinke thy soule hatch'd but 
And thinke this slow-pac'd soule, which late did cleaue 
To a body, and went but by the bodie's leaue, 186 
Twentie perchance or thirtie mile a day, 
Despatches in a minute all the way 
Twixt heauen and earth ; shee stales not in the ayre, 
To look what meteors there themselues prepare ; 190 
Shee carries no desire to know, nor sense, 
Whether th' ayr's middle region be intense ; 

VOL. I. T 


For th* element of fire, shee doth not know : 

Whether she past by such a place or no ; 

Shee baits not at the moone, nor cares to trie 195 

Whether in that new world men Hue and die ; 

Venus retards her not, to enquire how shee 

Can — ^being one star — Hesper and Vesper bee ; 

Hee, that charm'd Argus' eyes, sweete Mercury, 

Workes not on her, who now is growen all ey ; 200 

Who, if shee meet the bodie of the sunne, 

Goes through, not staying till his course be runne ; 

Who findes in Mars his campe no corps of guard, 

Nor is by love, nor by his father, bar'd. 

But ere she can consider how she went, 205 

At once is at and through the firmament. 

And, as these starres were but so many beades 

Strunge on one'string, speed vndistinguish'd leades 

Her through those spheures, as through thebeades a string, 

Whose quicke succession makes it still one thing: 210 

As doth the pith, which, least our bodies slack. 

Strings fast the little bones of necke and backe ; 

So by the soule doth death string heauen and Earth ; 

For when our soule enioyes this her third birth — 

Creation gaue her one, a second, Grace — 215 

Heauen is as neare and present to her face. 

As colours are and obiects in a roome, 

Where darkenesse was before, when tapers come. 

This must, my soule, thy long-short Progresse bee : 

To aduance these thoughts ; remember then, that shee, 



Shee, whose faire body no such prison was, 221 

But that a soule might well be pleasd to passe 

An age in her ; she, whose rich beauty lent 

Mintage to others* beauties, for they went 

But for so much as they were like to her ; 225 

She, in whose body — if wee dare prefer 

This low world to so high a marke, as shee — 

The Western treasure, Easterne spiceree, 

Europe and Afrique, and the vnknowne rest 

Were easily found, or what in them was best ; — 230 

And when w' have made this large discoueree 

Of all, in her some one part then will bee 

Twenty such parts, whose plenty and riches is 

Enough to make twentie such worlds as this ; — 

Shee, whom had they knowne, who did first betroth 235 

The tutelar angels, and assigned one, both 

To nations, cities, and to companies, 

To functions, ofiices, and dignities. 

And to each seuerall man, to him, and him. 

They would haue giuen her one for euery limme ; 240 

Shee, of whose soule if we may say, 'twas gold, 

Her body was th' electrum, and did hold 

Many degrees of that ; wee Vnderstood 

Her by her sight ; her pure and eloquent blood 

Spoke in her cheekes, and so distinctly wrought, 245 

That one might almost say her body thought ; 

Shee, shee thus richly and largely hous'd, is gone, 

And chides vs, slow-pac*d snailes, who crawl vpon 



Our prison's prison, earth, nor tUinke vs well, 
Longer then whil'st wee beare our brittle shell, than 250 

Her igno- But 'twere but little to haue changed our roome, 
this ufe If, as we were m this our lining tombe 
ledge in Oppress'd with ignorance, we stiU were so. 

the next. 

Poore Boule, in this thy flesh what do'st thou know ? 

Thou knowst thy selfe so little, as thou knowst not 255 

How thou didst die, nor how thou wast begot ; 

Thou neither knowst, how thou at first earnest in, 

"Now how thou took'st the poyson of man's sin ; 

Kor dost thou — though thou knowst that thou art so — 

By what way thou art made immorfcall, know. 260 

Thou art too narrow, wretch, to comprehend 

£uen thy selfe, yea, though thou would'st but bend 

To know thy body. Haue not all soules thought 

For many ages, that our body is wrought 

Of ayre and Are, and other elements ? 265 

And now they thinke of new ingredients ; 

And one soule thinks one, and another way 

Another thinkes, and 'tis an euen lay. 

Knowst thou but how the stone doth enter in 

The bladder's caue, and neuer brake the skin 1 270 

Knowst thou how blood, which to the heart doth flow. 

Doth from one ventricle to th' other goe ? 

And for the putrid stuflfe, which thou dost spit, 

Know'st thou how thy lungs haue attracted iti 

There are no passages ; so that there is — 275 

For ought thou knowst — piercing of substances. 


And of those many opinions, which men raise 

Of nayles and haires, dost thou know which to praise ) 

What hope haue we to know ourselues, when we 

Know not the least things which for our vse be ? 280 

We see in authors, too stiffe to recant, 

A hundred controuersies of an ant ; 

And yet one watches, starues, freeses, and sweats, 

To know but catechismes and alphabets 

Of ynconcerning things, matters of fact, 285 

How others on our stage their parts did act, 

What Csesar did, yea, and what Cicero said : 

Why grasse is greene, or why our bloud is red. 

Are mysteries which none haue reach*d vnto ; 

In this low forme, poore soule, what wilt thou doe ? 290 

When vrilt thou shake off this pedantery. 

Of being taught by sense and fantasy ? 

Thou look'st through spectacles ; small things seeme great 

Below ; but vp vnto the watch-towre get. 

And see all things despoyld of fallacies ; 295 

Thou shalt not peepe through lattices of eies, 

Nor heare through laberinths of eares, nor learne 

By circuit or collections to disceme ; 

In heauen thou straight know'st all concerning it. 

And what concerns it not, shall straight forget. 300 

There thou — but in no other school — maist bee \ 

Perchance as learned and as full as shee : i 

Shee, who all libraries had throughly red read 1 

At home in her owne thoughts, and practised 




So much good, as would make as many more ; 305 

Shee, whose example they must all implore, 

Who would or doe or thinke well, and confesse 

That all the vertuous actions they expresse, 

Are but a new and worse edition 

Of her some one thought, or one action ; 310 

Shee who in th' art of knowing Heanen was growen 

Here vpon Earth to such perfection, 

That shee hath, euer since to heauen shee came — 

In a far fairer print — but read the same ; 

Shee — shee not satisfied withall this waite-^ weight 315 

(For so much knowledge as would overfraite 

Another, did but ballast her) is gone 

As well t' enioy, as get, perfectione. 

And cals vs after her, in that shee tooke — 

Taking her selfe — our best and worthiest booke. 320 

Of oar , Returne not, my soule, from this ecstasee, 

company / ,/ / i 

*»**»*»Jf« And meditation of what thou shalt bee, 
'^^^ To earthly thoughts, tiU it to thee appeare 
With whom thy conuersation must be there. 
With whom wilt thou conuerse? what station 325 
Canst thou choose out free from infection, 
That will not giue thee theirs, nor drinke in thine 9 
Shalt thou not finde a spungy slacke diuine 
Drinke and sucke in the instructions of great men, 
And for the Word of God, vent them agent 330 

Are there not some Courts — ^and then, no things bee 
So like as Courts — which, in this let vs see, 


That wits and tongues of libellars are weake, 

Because they doe more ill, then these can speake ) than 

The poyson is gone through all ; poysons affect 335 

Chiefly the chiefest parts ; but some effect 

In nailes, and haires, yea excrements, will show ; 

So lies the poyson of sin in the most low. 

Vp, vp, my drowsie soule, where thy new eare 

Shall in the angels' songs no discord heare ; 340 

Where thou shalt see the blessed mother-maid 

loy in not boing that, which men haue said ; 

Where shee is exalted more for being good, 

Then for her interest of motherhood : than 

Vp to those Patnarckes, which did longer sit 345 


Expecting Christ, then they 'haue enjoy'd Him yet ; than- 

Vp to those Prophets, which now gladly see 

Their prophesies growen to bee historee ; 

Vp to th' Apostles, who did brauely runne. 

All the sun's course, with more light then the sunne ; than 

Yp to those Martyrs, who did calmely bleed 351 

Oyle to th' Apostles' lamps, dew to their seed ; 

Vp to those Virgins, who thought that almost 

They made ioynte tenants with the Holy Ghost, 

If they to any should His temple glue ; 355 

Vp, vp, for in that squadron there doth liue 

Shee, who hath carried thither new degrees — 

As to their number — to their dignitees ; 

Shee, wbo beeing to her selfe a state, enioyd 

All royalties, which any state emploid ; 360 


For shee made wars, and triumphed ; reason still 
Did not ouerthrow, but rectifie her will ; 
And shee made peace ; for no peace is like this, 
That beauty and chastity together kisse ; 
She did high iustice ; for she crucified 365 

Euery first motion of rebellious pride ; 
And she gaue pardons, and was liberall, 
For, onely her selfe except, shee pardond all ; 
Shee coynd ; in this, that her impressions gaue 
To all our actions h11 ^e worth they haue ; 370 

She gave protections ; the thoughts of her breast 
Satan's rude officers could uere arrest. 
As these prerogatiues being met in one, 
Made her a soveraigne state, Eeligion 
Made her a Church ; and these two made her all. 375 
Shee, who waa all this all, and could not fall 
• To worse, by company ; — for she was still 

More antidote, then all the world was ill — than 
Shee, shee doth leaue it, and by death surviue 
All this in heauen ; whether who doth not striue whither 
The more because shee's there, he doth not know 381 
That accidentall ioyes in heauen do grow. 

Of MNn- But pause, my soule, and study, ere thou fall 

tial toy in 

thii ufe On accidentall ioyes, th* essentiall : 

and in the "^ ' ' 

next. Still before accessories doe abide 385 

A triall, must the principall bee tride ; 
And what essentiaU ioy canst thou expect 
Here vpon earth 1 what permanent effect 




Of transitory causes 1 Dost thou loue 
Beauty? — and beauty worthy'st is to moue ; — •* 390 
Poore cousened cos'enor, that she, and that thou, 
Which did begin to loue, are neither now ; 
You are both fluid, chang*d since yesterday ; 
Next day repaires — but ill — last daye's decay ; 
Nor are — although the riuer keepe the name — 395 
Testerdaye's waters and to-daie's the same : 
So flowes her face, and thine eies ; neither now, 
That saint nor pilgrime, which your louing vow 
Concernd, remaines ; but whilst you thinke you bee 
Constant, you are hourely in inconstancee. 400 

Honour may haue pretence mto our loue, 
Because that God did Hue so long abouo 
Without this honour, and theti louM it so, 
That He at last made creatures to bestow 
Honour on Him ; not that He needed itj 405 

But that to His hands man might grow more fit. 
But since all honours from inferiours flow — 
For they do giue it ; princes doe but show 
Whom they would haue so honord— and that this 
On such opinions and capacities 410 

Is built, as rise and fall, to more and lessc, 
Alas, 'tis but a casuall happincsse. 
Hath euer any man to himselfe assigned 
This or that happinesse to arrest his mind. 
But that another man, which takes a worse, 415 

Thinke him a foole for hauiiig tane that course? 
VOL. I. u 


They who did labour Babel's tower to erect, 

Might haue considered, that for that effect 

All this whole solid earth could not allow, 

Nor furnish forth materials enow, 420 

And that his center, to raise such a place, 

Was farre too little to haue been the base ; 

"No more afifoords thiB worlde foundatione 

To erect true ioye, were all the meanes in one. 

But as the heathen made them seuerall gods 425 

Of all God's beiiefits, and all His rods — 

For as the wine and corne and onions are 

Gods vnto them, so agues bee, and warre — 

And as by changing that whole precious gold 

To such small copper coynes, they lost the old, 430 

And lost their onely God, who euer must 

Be sought alone, and not in such a thrust ; 

So much mankinde true happinesse misUkes ; 

No ioye enioyes that man, that many makes. 

Then, soule, to thy first pitch worke yp againe ; 435 

Know that all lines which circles doe contain. 

For once that they the center touch, doe touch 

Twice the circumference ; and be thou such ; 

Double on heauen thy thoughts ; on earth emploid. 

All will not serue ; onely who haue enioyd 440 

The sight of God in fulnesse, can thinke it ; 

For it is both the obiect and the wit ; 

This is essentiall ioye, where neither hee 

Can suffer diminution, nor wee ; 


Tis such a full and such a filling good, 445 

Had th' angels once look*d on Him, they had stood. 

To till the place of one of them, or more, 
Shee, whom we celebrate, is gone before; 
Shee, who had here so much essentiall ioy, 
As no chance could distract, much lesse destroy ; 450 
Who with Gk)d's presence was acquainted so — 
Hearing, and speaking to Him — as to know 
His face is any naturall stone or tree, 
Better then when in images they bee ; than 

Who kept, by diligent deuotion, 455 

God's image in such reparation 
Within her heart, that what decay was growne, 
Was her first parent's fault, and not her owne ; 
Who, being solicited to any act. 
Still heard God pleading His safe precontract ; 460 
Who by a faithfull confidence was here 
Betrothed to Grod, and now is married there ; 
Whose twilights were more cleare than our mid-day ; 
Who dreamt devoutlier then most vse to pray; than 
Who being here fild with grace, yet stroue to be 465 
Both where more grace, and more capaXiitee 
At once is giuen ; she to heauen is gone, 
Who made this world in some proportion 
A heauen, and here became vnto vs all, 
loye — as our ioyes admit-7-essentiall. 470 of acd- 

But could this low world ioyes essentiall touch, loyU in 

Heauen's accidentall ioyes would passe them much. pUoes. 


How poore and lame must then our casuall bee ) 

If thy prince will his subiects to call thee 

My Lord, and this doe swell thee, thou art than then 

By being greater, growen to be lesse man. 476 

When no physician of redress can speake, 

A ioyfuU casuall violence may breake 

A dangerous apostem in thy brest; 

And whilst thou ioyest in this, the dangerous rest, 480 

The bag may rise yp, and so strangle thee. 

Whateie waa casuall, may euer bee ; aye 

What should the nature change ? or make the same 

Certaine, which was but casuall when it came 1 

All casuall ioye doth loud and plainely say, 485 

Onely by comming, that it can away. 

Onely in heauen ioye's strength is neuer spent. 

And accidentall things are permanent. 

Toy of a soule*s arriuall neere decaies — 

For that soule euer ioyes, and euejr stayes ; — 490 

loy, that their last great consummation 

Approches in the resurrection, 

Wlien earthly bodies more celestiall 

Shall be, then angels were — for they could fall — than 

This kind of ioy doth euery day admit 495 

Degrees of growth, but none of loosing it. 

In this fresh ioy, 'tis no small part, that shee, 

Shee, in whose goodnesse he that names degree 

Doth iniure her ; — 'tis losse to be cald best. 

There where the stuffe is not such as the rest ; — 500 


Shee, who left such a bodie, as even shee 

Onely in heauen could leame, how it can bee 

Made better ; for shee rather was two soules, 

Or like to full-on-both-sides-written rols, 

Where eies might read vpon the outward skin 505 

As strong records for God, as mindes within ; 

Shee, whoy by making full perfection grow, 

Peeces a circle, and still keepes it so, 

Long'd for, and longing for it, to heauen is gone, 

Where shee receiues and giues addition. 510 

Here, in a place, where misdeuotion frames sion. 

A thousand praiers to saints, whose uery names 

The ancient Church knew not, heauen knowes not yet, 

And where what lawes of poetry admit, 

Lawes of religion haue at least the same, 5 1 5 

Immortall Maide, I might invoque thy name. 

Could any saint prouoke that appetite, 

Thou here should'st make mee a French conuertite, 

But thou wouldst not ; nor wouldst thou be content 

To take this, for my second yeere's true rent, 520 

Did this coine beare any other stampe then His than 

That gane thee power to doe, me to say this : 

Since His will is that to posteritee 

Thou shouldest for life and death a patterne bee, 

And that the world should notice haue of this, 525 

The purpose and th' authoiitie is His ; 

Thou art the proclamation ; and I ame 

Th^ trumpet, at whose voyce the people came. 



Divinons of the * Anatomie* and * Progreu.^ 

I have arranged these Poems in paragraphs, denoted by 
spaces at the several, somewhat distant, plaoes. In the ' Ana- 
tomie* proper there is an evident dose of each section of 
thonght in the repeated phrases, 

' And leam'Bt thns mnoh by our Anatomie,* 

and the like. Oar arrangement is as follows : The Proem, or 
exposition of the World's illness and dead body, ends at line 60. 
Then the first lesson ends at line 190, the second at line 246, 
the third at line 338, the fourth at line 876, the fifth at line 484, 
and the CSlose is from this to the end. 

Of the * Progress,' the Proem ends at line 54, the first stage 
at line 84, the second at line 156 (see the thonght that is ex- 
panded therein at line 85), the third at line 250, the fourth at 
line 820, the fifth at line 382, the sixth at line 446, and then 
the Close. 

With reference to the second title, ' Progress of the Sonl,' 
the word * Progress* had in those days a special sense=the 
state progress of a Monarch throngh some part of his or her 
dominions ; and as in the opening of the * First Anniversary' he 
spoke (line 7) of * When that qneene ended here her progresse- 
time,' so now he speaks of the Progress of her royal sonl. Every 
one knows the splendid as erudite volumes of Nichols on the 
' Progresses* of Elizabeth and James. 

Commendatory Verses. 

tt is of the * Curiosities of literature' that the critics have 
not observed that the present and correspondent poem in the 
* 2^ Anniversarie' were * commendatoiy,' and so not by Donne 
1>ut for Donne. It is also singular that men of mark {e, g. David 
Laing, Esq. LL.D., Dr. Hannah, and others), while recording 
and annotating or quoting this entry in the celebrated Conver- 
sations of Drummond and Ben Jonson, ' Joseph Hall, the har- 
benger of the Anatomic,' have utterly failed to observe that this 
carries in it the specially interesting fact that the author of the 
present * commendatory' poem, and doubtless of its companion 
piece in the * 2^ Anniversary,' was the (afterwards) renowned 
Bishop Joseph Hall, a trenchant Satirist and vigorous Poet, as 


well as a most snggestiTe sennon-vriter and meditator. In onr 
Essay we show the significanoe of this in relation to the Sa- 
tires, and Hall*B claim to be the * first* (English) Satirist — ^also 
hitherto overlooked. 

I. To THB Pbaisb of the Dead, and the Anatomy. 

Lines 8-9, ' Hm* = its — which, instead of the spirit of the 
world, now seems to give form, and therefore ' being,* to its 

Line 12, * T^m«*=thrice. 
„ 15, * n«pA«ti;<*= descendants generally, as before. 
„ 18, in 1612 misprinted * ceomly :* corrected in 1621. 
„ 21, * U usr so in 1612, 1621, and 1625 ; a various-read- 
ing is * it is* — ^not an error. 

Line 27, ' wonV Donne, dilFering from at least most of his 
contemporaries, nses this without the substantive verb (see like 
remark in Elegies). This Writer does the same. 

Line 34, < where :* in 1612, 1621, and 1625 misprinted * were.' 

35, '&tntf*=[have] been. 

36, * in thine :' usually misprinted * and thine.' 
„ 89, * tongue ;' 1669 has * tongues. ' 

„ 41, ' as by infant yeares men iudge of age.' We have 
here an early form of Wordsworth's *■ boy is father to the man.' 

Line 43, *What hie . . .' In 1612 *an hie:' corrected in 

Line 47. 1669 reads * Never may thy name be in songs for- 

II. An Anatomie of the World : the First Anniversarie. 

Margin-notes : these are restored JJiroughout, having been 
hitherto wrongly omitted, from 1669 onward. 

Line 2, * all doe :' in 1612 * all they:' corrected in 1621. 
„ 40, * determine* s=enAedf a legal term then in common 
use. Of. Shakespeare, Son. xiii. 11. 5-6, &c. 

Line 47, * thaw:^ used quaintly (probably in stress of rhyme) 
for dissolution. 

line 73, ' shut in' — by descent to the tomb. Our phrase is 
* shut out.' It is not unlikely that the variation is due to shutters 
having been then outdoor- and inward-closing, as still to be 
seen in old Elizabethan and even Jacobean villages in England. 

Line 79, * though :' misprinted ' thought,' 1621 and 1625. I 
accept ' though' from 1612. 




Line 95, * rutfiotw*=fiiU of min ; or, as ezpUined in the fol- 
lowing lines, * falling.' The natural mode of hirth in head f ore- 
moet, and according to the then euBtom, the woman was seated, 
as in the time of Moses (Exodns i 16), or kneeling. 

line 99, ' irt£^V=wise. 
„ 110, ' kill ourselues to propagate our kindeJ' The alln- 
sion, I presume, is to the belief that crept into theology that 
the Fall was sexual interconrse— one interworen by Hilton into 
his account, and made much of by the late Dr. Donaldson in his 
nasty ' Jasher,' but which is contrary to reyelation (Genesis i. 
28) and the analogy of nature. Or the allusion may be to the 
belief entertained by some that propagation of the species short- 
ened life, and this for reasons founded on the (erroneous) philo- 
simhy of the day, and because it was believed that eunuchs, 
whether naturally so or made, and castrated animals, lived 
longer ; while the lives of partridges, cocks, and sparrows were 
shortened by their excess in venery. See Sir Thomas Browne, 
as above, V. E. ; and Progress of the Soul, st. xxi.-ii. 

Line 115, ' ittig and rauen.^ These were supposed to much 
exceed the agjB of man. The tree is probably the platane or 
plane. Cf. Elegy ix. line 29. See onrPhineas Fletcher, a.v, Cf. 
also Sir Thomas Browne, Vulgar Errors, book iii. c. 9; and 
for raven, Pliny, N. H. b. viii. c. 32. 

Line 117, * starre:* see note on line 259. 
„ 120. I am somewhat doubtful whether, as in two ex- 
amples in the Elegies (xvill. line 16), and elsewhere, there is 
here an unusual form of ellipse, where the middle words are 
supposed to be repeated — ' Man*B growth confessed,' &c, .... 
and * Man's growth [was] so spacious ;' or whether Une 122 is 
parenthetical, and the size great (....) so spacious and large 
that, &c. ; or whether the phrase is equal to Man's growth re- 
compensed the meat so spaciously ttad largely. Either this 
or the second seems less harsh, and this, if adopted, requires 
meat (,); and thus I punctuate. 

Line 121. Ed. 1612 misprints ' the the sise :' corrected in 

Line 134, * a torn house :' the poet speaks of an ordinary 
form of I^ase for the term of three lives, and ' torn' is a charac- 
teristically strange quibble on a house or field * rented* from 
the owners. 

line 135. A Talmudical belief. 

138, * shipwrack^d ;' an extreme instance of an irregular 



bat then common ellipBe, where the passive part, auxiliaries 
have to be supplied from the active, [had been] ship wracked 
out of * had Btraid.' 

Line 144, ' soarse :* misprinted ' searse* in 1612 and 1621. 
„ 145, * death ad* V our length.* Not only were nails 
and hair supposed to grow after death, but it was popularly 
believed, and is now perhaps by some, that the body does so. 
We measure longer in the morning after repose, than in the 
evening after a day of the erect posture ; but the difference 
is too slight to explain the 'Vulgar EiTor.' The thinning of 
the body in illness, and the rigid straightness of a ' streaked* 
corpse, may haye helped the belief ; but it probably arose from 
the more than usual growth occasionally noticeable in children 
during a fatal, and it may be short, illness. Every one remem- 
bers the exclamation of his enemy over the coffined Henry IV., 
that he was * taller' and more majestical dead than alif e. 

Line 150, ' Which [vertue] then scattered was.' Led to it 
by the previous words, the allusion is chemical or alchemical, 
— * had we concentrated or essentialised into a spirit by distil- 
lation into a smaller vessel.' 

Line 151. Here, as in the next line, we have the metaphor 
elucidated. We are not altered like a snail or worm, that con- 
tinues of the same bulk though it retire itself into apparently 
smaller compass ; but we are shrunk like a damped woollen 
cloth, not dose-wove, but our threads twisted upwind cramped. 

Line 153, * close weaving :' misprinted ' wearing' in 1612, 
1621, and 1625 : cf. line 279. 

Line 161, ' Thus ;' 1669 ' this.' Probably the alteration into 
* this' from * thus' of all the author's own editions was to bring 
line 161 into (imagined) agreement with lines 167i 169. But 
*thns' is the general fact, and the after 'this is' the particulars, 
beginning with the ' thiS' of line 161, * Thus Man, this . . .' 

We have in this striking passage a remembrance and adapt- 
ation of Hamlet's — 

' What a piece of work is a man ! how noble in reason ! how 
inHnite in faculty f in form and moving [suggestive of ' grace'] 
how express and admirable 1 . . . the beauty of the world ! 
[whom God did woo] . . . And yet to me what is this quint- 
essence of dust !' (act ii. sc. 2.) 

Line 164, « legats :' so in 1612 and 1621 : in 1625 ' legate ;' 
the former accepted. 

Linens 172-3, * Help . . . vants :' obscure. Probably in ac- 



cordADce with his former conceit that the world is dead, yet 
with some seeming of life : he means, allow if jon will help to 
his other wants, or allow time for him to waste, as not alto- 
gether dead ; yet he hath lost his heart, and is therefore mor- 
tally stmck, and mnst die. 

Line 173, ' depart ;' not, leave with her, but = part with, that 
is, part with her [de) from himself. This nse of it was common. 

' John, to stop Artliur'8 title In the whole, 
Ilmh willingly drparted with a ymrt ' 

K. John ii. X ; and Love's Labonr Tiost, ii. 1 . 

There would seem fiom this passage, and from lines 877-402, 
to have been some such interchange of seasons and unseason- 
able sickly weather as Shakeepeare feigned in Athens (Timon 
of Athens, .act ii. bc. 1), and as occurred in England abont 
1594, previous to the writing of King John and Midsunmier's 
Night Dream, as may be seen by Strype and Bishop King's 
Lenten Sermons on Jonah (see our edition in Nichol's * Puritan 
Commentaries'). Taking this view, that the poem refers to and 
is founded on contemporary and exceptional phenomena, one 
can better understand, and in a greater degree pardon, the 
otherwise extravagant conceits. 

Line 202. A beautiful adaptation of the Hebrew phrase, 
' And the evening and the morning were the first day. ' 

Line 204, * gonnet^ — i. e. none at all, fifty being held to be 
woman's limit in child-bearing. 

Line 205, * new philotophy.* I do not know what this * new 
philosophy' was, for the present chemical views as to the ele- 
ments are of much later date. There is another reference to 
the same in Second Anniversary, lines 263-6. 

Line 217, ' there .' 1669 and usually ' that,' wrongly ; 1612, 
1621, and 1625 misprint ' then.' ' 

Line 282, * Spice' =iiie Moluccas or Spice Isles. 
„ 238, ' interre ;' a strong personification, implying the 
country to be so rich that, like a miser, it buries its hoards of 

Line 234, * single iMOfi^y'= smaller coin. Thus, in opposition 
to the single crown, ducat, pistolet, and sovereign, were the 
double crown, ducat, and pistole, and great double and great 
triple sovereign, as well as the doblon (doubloon). 

Line 260, * New stars.* In 1604 a star of the first mag- 
nitude appeared in the right foot of Ophiuchus, and in a few 


months disappeared. It was written of by Kepler, and brought 
to mind the star brighter than Venns and visible at noonday that 
showed itself for a time in Cassiopeia in 1572, and that was 
written of by Tycho Brahe. The same phenomenon is referred 
to by Donne in the * Fnneral Elegy' (lines 67-70), and Verse- 
Epistle to Conntess of Huntingdon (line's 6-8) ; and the con- 
siderations thus arising, and the attention called to the heavens 
generally, are seen in lines 210 and 1X7. 

Line 273, ' with :' nsually misprinted * of.* 

Line 286, *Tenarif:' 1669 Tenanu. The latter is not a 
misprint, for, except here, Donne always calls Teneriffe by that 
name. It will be remembered that Marvell and Milton have 
associated their names with the * great mountain.' 

Line 289, *«<roo/c«'= struck, as in 1669. 
„ 298, * atraiV — straight. 

„ 811, * that AncienV = Pythagoras. Here is another 
linking-on of the * Anatomie' with the other * Progress of the 

Line 314, ' resultances ;' query, a Donne coinage 7 
„ 817, * doctors :' 1612 spelled oddly ' douctors.' 
„ 843, * turcua{/s€'= turquoise ; a precious stone supersti- 
tionsly regarded long ago, in common with all precious stones. 
With a rare want of credulity, Bartholomew says (b. xvi. c. 98), 
* The Indians know none other vertue but this fayreness [of 

Line 846, *falU sicke .-' the alchemical phrase. 
„ 349, * and play :' usually misprinted * in play.' 
„ 868-64, * Paradise . . . things' verdure' =from whom 
did come the verdure of all things and their lustre. 

Line 392, * constellate ;' explained by next two lines as 
making a thing one in influence with a star or stars, or giving 
it an influence drawn from them. Sir John Davies and con- 
temporaries have * stellify.' 

Line 410, * serpent .•' no record of this belief in Pliny, Bar- 
tholomew, or Browne. 

Line 422, * ftoy'^restraint. 
„ 482, * perishing:* not in sense of dying, as now, but 
as is still preserved in the phrase, 'perishing with cold;' that 
is, in the sense of shrinking, pining, and wasting away, in 
which the poets used pereo in reference to love. 

Line 440, *|n«nc^uaU' ^treating it point by point. 
„ 474, 'fame :' in a copy of the 1612 edition now before 


me, Donne (I think) has himself written * fame/ lest the long s, 
BO like an f , should be mistaken. 


In the Stephens' MS., now in possession of F. W. Cosens, 
Esq., and with which he kindly intrusted me, there is a copy 
of this portion of the ' Anatomie.' It is headed * The Fnnerall 
Elegie vppon y* death of M" Elizabeth Dmry.' No Tariations 

Line 1, * ghest ;' I accept this spelling'of 1612, in preference 
to * gnhest' of 1621 and 1625. 

Line 4, * j>r(2'd'=piit a price or valuation on it ; appraise. 
„ 8, * Escnrials :' in 1612 and 1621 printed with small * e.' 
„ 18, * aharted ;' 1669 * abortive.' 
„ 3d, * as :' usually misprinted * was. * 
„ 41. A peculiarity generally given to the Nile ; and here 
perhaps not spoken of our Niger, but of the Nile before it is so 
called, wLen, according to Pliny, after having twice been under- 
ground, and the second time for twenty days' journey, it issues 
at the spring Nigris (Pliny, N. H. b. v. c. 9). As I write this 
note, tidings reach England from the long -lost Livingstone. 
May he be spared to return, with this world-old secret of the 
Nile in his hand, to a well-earned evening-time of rest 1 
line 50. See note on Elegy. 
,, 57. As force and vigour represent one thing, or phases 
of one quality, he says ere * it' according to the grammar of the 
thought, and not of the expression. 

Line 61, ' through-lighVssdiKphBJionB. Used by Donne else- 
where, as in Epistle before Progress of the Soul, where 1669 
edition omits the hyphen. 

Line 67. See note on ' Anatomic,' line 260, &o, 
„ 83, *9aidr so in 1612, 1621, and 1626. 
,, 86, [had] promis'd, Ac, from the 'had' of * she had 
been,' a now irregular but then common form of ellipse. 

Line 92, ' tn/er'=bring into one, in sense of offer or fnrniB^, 
iiK in the quotation given by Johnson (where, however, * pro- 
duce' is an imperfect gloss) : 

* Fall well hath Clifford play'd the orator, 
iH/erring argnnients of mighty force.' 

Line 96, * fellow-commistioner" — i.e, as joint-delegate of the 
Deity. See Progress of the Soul, st. iv. 1. 1, and Second Ep. 
to Sii- Henry Wotton, 1. 11. 


Line 105. Metre and rhythm irregular, that ' Bpiritnal' might 
be emphasised and used at fnll length. 

IV. The Habbikoeb to the Pboqbesse. 

line 16, ' ioumaU ;* nsed hj the author [Bp. Hall] of these 
commendatory yerses a8=days' doings, or=the glorious news 
or diaiy of thy days' doings. 

Line 28, 'caught:' 1612 reads 'raught'= reached. 

27, * soule :' 1612 misprints ' soules:' corrected in 1621. 
86, ' thy Laura :' likening Donne's praise of Mrs. Dmry 
to Petrarch's praise of Laura. 


V. The Pboobess of the Soule : ftii Second Amkiversabie. 

Line 10, * Though:' in 1612, 1621, and 1625, misprinted 
' Through.' In the copy, already noted, of 1612, Donne (I think) 
has himself again corrected by writing, opposite * Though' for 

Line 22, ' motion,* Motion was considered the characteristic 
of life, and hence stood for life or a living body ; and thence, 
by a curious return, it came to signify both a puppet (that 
moTed as with life) and a puppet-show. But of corruption also, 
according to the old belief, arose life, as worms in dead bodies, 
bees from the carcass of an ox, &c, ; and such motion or life, 
says Donne, is that that is now found in the world dead, and 
now after a year coxrupt. 

Line 43, * thy :' 1621 and 1625 misprint * they :' 1612 is cor- 
rectly *thy.» 

Line 46, 'safe-sealing:' it looks like 'fealing'in 1621 and 
1626, as well as 1612. 

Line 48, * kydroptique .*' note on Elegy. 
„ 54, ' busineBj* rather — over-business, business being 
taken in its stronger and worse sense. 

Line 56, * that ;' an example, of which several are noted in 
our Southwell, of ' that' used asr^that that. 

Line 67, • 'twas:' 1669 * was.' 
„ 72, ^ forme.* According to mediieval philosophy, * forma,' 
which was more than mere shape, was that which, when added 
to the * substantia,' made the visible existing thing, whatever 
that thing might be. Thus in transubstantiation the * form' of 
the bread or wine is said to remain; and hence, too, 'form' 
was sometimes used in the old Writers in a similar sense to 



that in the now-oommon sporting phrase of being ' in form/ the 
fall signlfieanoe of which is to be deriyed from the medisByal 
Bcholastio term. 

Line 75, * indifferenV =nei\keir good nor bad. 
„ 80, * starfull Northern poU.* There are more yisible 
stars in the Sonthem hemisphere than in the Northern, bat 
fewer near the Soath Pole. 

Line 8S. Mrs. Gkimp and the Cockneys have in this not 
corrapted the Temacolar. 

Line 94, *packe,* Said a good old man on his death-bed, when 
asked how he felt, ' My p<iek is ready, and I'm jast waiting.' 

Line 103, ' legacies,^ There have been several examples of 
sach bequests. 

Line 104. Cf. Foneral Elegy, lines 108-4. 
„ 113, * shroad :' so in 1612, misprinted * shoard' in 1621 
and 1625. 

Line 117, * prince . . . themseloes.* The plaral is here ased 
as in Shakespeare, there being a reference to acts of royalty, 
in which the Prince speaks or writes of himself as * we.' 

Line 120, * Saint Lucie's nighf^ihe shortest night. 
„ 127, * mitkridate :* properly a composite antidote 
against poison, supposed to have been ased by King Mithri- 
dates. It was also applied generically to sach compositions as 
were either vanhted as the trae and genuine article, or were 
better than it. Donne elsewhere (First Ep. to 0. of Bedford) 
uses it in a metaphorical sense. 

Line 129, ' on :' 1612 misprints ' no :' corrected in 1621 and 

Line 130. Ellipse, only because all were [best], &e, 
„ 135, * elements and humors ;' another Shakespearean 

Line 137, ' wonne :' usually misprinted * won.* 
„ 143, ' chaine ;' an allusion to the Homeric chain of gold, 
on which see our Sibbes, s. v. with after-examples. 

Line 160, * two soules :' muking therefore three in each body. 
See 5th Verse-Epistle to Countess of Bedford (lines 37-9), and 
to Countess of Salisbury (lines 51-6). The soul of growth, or 
Anima Yegetalis, becanse it is that that is in plants, died with 
the body. So also died the soul of sense, or Anima SensibUis, 
which is [superadded] in beasts. The Anima Rationalis was 
alone immortal, and lived either with or without a body. See 
Bartholomew, book iii. c. 7-13. It would seem also, from him. 



that there was some diyetsitj, not to say jumble, of opinions 
as to whether there were three souls or a threefold working of 
one soul ; or whether the two souls were in beasts and the three 
in man; or whether the Anima Sensibilis gave life and growth as 
well as feeling to the Anima Rationalis, life, feeling, and reason. 
' Line 163, ' obnoxious :' not so much in the original latinate 
sense of liable to punishment, as readily liable to ill. 

line 172, ^Jirst-built e«b'=womb or the enclosing mem- 

„ 177, ' the :' usually misprinted ' a.' 
„ 182, *hi8 otcm«'=its own, free; not obedient only to 
impulses from that which it is with or that which confines it. 

Line 203, * corps of guard :^ used both for the guard itself 
and the g^ard-house or station, whither all strangers would be 
brought and questioned. 

Line 213. Herbert uses this passage. See our Essay. 
„ 224, * others* beauties :' 1669 ' other.' The former per- 
haps agrees better with * whose beauty ;' but * other beauties' 
agrees best with * they went,' and * they were like.' 

Line 226, '|>r6/er'= advance, exalt, raise, as in preferring 
one to any western treasure ^riches of America and Western 

Line 228. This form of the ever-recurring microcosm thought 
is given in its comic side by Shakespeare in the Comedy of 
Errors (iii. 2). 

Line 242, * eUctrum .-' an adaptation of the fact that amber 
or electrum enclosed various extraneous substances, one which 
seems to have been constantly present to the older poets, 
through the much- used epigram of Martial, De apide electro , 

Line 242-43, *did hold many degrees of that:' apparently = 
did surpass by many degrees. See note on line 358, its (the am* 
ber's) purity, &c. 

Line 246, ' distincUy :' spelled * distinckly' in 1612 and 1621. 
„ 268, * 2ay'= wager. 

„ 278. See Batman on Bartholomew for various of these 

Line 292, * taught:' 1612 and 1621 misprint * thought' 
„ 297, ' laberinth ;' part of the inner ear so called. 
„ 308, * are :* sic in all the three editions, usually * all. ' 
„ 314, * far fairer print.* See onr Essay for after-use of 
this onward to Benjamin Franklin. 


Line 814, Sprint:' in all the three editions mispiinted 

• point/ 

Lines 331-2. The parenthesis seems to have the following 
constmction and meaning: Are there not some Courts (and 
than [Courts] no things are so like as Courts, [therefore all 
Courts as Well as some] ) ? 

Line 352, * »eed :' a variant of the saying, * the hlood of the 
martyrs the seed of the church.* 

Line 353, * thought :' in the three editions, as hefore, mis- 
printed * thoughts.' 

Line 354, ' ioynte tenants ,-' i. e. made others joint tenants. 
„ 858. As the phrase ' carry new degrees to their digni- 
ties' might at that time be taken t ) mean * raise these dignities 
higher,' or place them on higher steps of honour, Donne adds 
— as to their number — to show his meaning, yiz. that she, as 
different from patriarchs^ apostles, and martyrs, and as differ- 
ent also from the yirgins he speaks of, would add a new order 
among these dignities. 

Line 382= That as well as the essential joy of heaven, there 
are joys which are not of the essence of heaven, but as it were 
its accidentals, such as joy over sinners saved, the remembrance 
of friends and former intercourse, and of their good deeds, &c. 

Line 421, * his :' 1612 ' this.' 
„ 432, * thrust' = crowd. For verbal use of same, see 
line 103. 

Line 435, 'vp:' 1612 and 1621 misprint * vpon.' 
„ 441= can conceive the fulness of the Godhead, for it is 
both the object of our thought and that which gives it power 
to conceive it. It is the light which makes us see the Light, 
and only the in-poured Spirit which enables us to comprehend 
the fulness of God. Donne, with all his play, has great reaches 
and depths of solemn thought. 

Line 477, * redress:' in all three editions misprinted 'reders.' 
„ 477-81. This shows that the variously-told tale of a 
suffocating quinsy- abscess breaking through sudden laughter, 
was known in Donne's time ; but I know not whether the after- 
result (lines 480-1) be or be not an addition by him. 

Line 482, * ere' = aye, as before : 1612 and 1621 so : usually 

• e'er.' 

Line 486, * onely by comming ;' i. e. if only by its coming. 
,, 504, * on-both-sideS'tcritten ;' this is as much a compo- 
site hyphened word as that comic one (Elegy v. line 31). . G. 

^ . 






By our first straunge and fatall interview, 

By all desyres which thereof did ensue, 

By our longe starvinge hopes, by that remorse, 

Which my words' masculyne-persuasive force 

Begott in thee, and by the memory 

Of hurts, which spies and rivals threatned mee, 

I calmlie begg ; but by thy parents* wrath. 

By all payns which want and divorsement hath, 

I coniure thee ; — and all those oaths, which I 

And thou haue swome to seale ioynt constancy, 

Here I unswear and oversweare them thus ; 

Thou shalt not loue by wayes so dangerous ; — 

Temper, O fayr loue, Loue's impetuous rage. 

Be my true mistris still, not my fayn'd Page. 

lie goe, and, by thy kinde leaue, leave behynd 

Thee, only worthy to nurse in my mynd' 

Thirst to come back ; Oh, if thou dye before, 

From other lands my sowle towards thee shall soare. 

Thy els almightie bowty cannot move 

Eage from the seas, nor thy loue teach them loue, 20 

Nor tame wilde Boreas* harshncs : Thou hast read 

How roughly hee in pieces shyvered 


VOL. I. 



Faire Oretbea, whom he swore he lovM. 

Fall ill or good, 'tis madness to haue prov'd 

Daungers unurg'd ; feed on this flatterie, 25 

That absent lovers one in th* other bee, 

Dissemble nothing, not a boye, nor change 

Thy bodye's habytt, nor mynde's ; be not strange 

To thy selfe only. All will spie in thy face 

A blushinge, womanly, discov'ringe grace. 30 

Rich lie cloth'd apes, are call*d apes ; and as soone 

Eclipst as bright, wee call the moone the moone ; 

Men of Fraunce, changable camelions, 

Spittles of diseases, shopps of fashyons, 

Trove's fuelers, and the Tightest company 35 

Of Players, which uppon the world's stage bee, 

Will too too quickly knowe thee ; and alas ! 

'J'he indifferent Italyan, as wee pass 

His warme Land, well content to thinke thee a Page, 

Will haunt thee with such lust, and hydeous rage, 40 

As Lott's faire guests were vext ; but none of these. 

Nor spungie hidroptique Dutch, shall thee displease, 

If thou stay heare. Oh stay here ; for, for thee 

England is only a worthy gallery, 

To walke in expectation, till from thence 45 

Our great King call thee unto His presence. 

When I am gone dreame me some happines. 

Nor let thy lookes our longe-hid loue confesse ; 

Nor praise, nor dispraise mee ; nor bless nor curse 

Openly Love's force ; nor in bed fright thy nurse 50 


With mydnight startinges, crying out, * Oh ! oh ! 
Nurse, oh ! my love is slayne ; I saw him goe 
O'er the white Alpes alone ; I sawe him, I, 
Assail'd, taken, fight, stahb'd, bleed, fall, and dye !' 
Augore me better chaunce, except dread Jove 55 

Think it enough for mee t' haue had thy love. 


Oar text in the present Elegy and thronghont — with the few 
slight verhal exceptions recorded in their places — ^is from the 
Stephens' ms. , where it is headed * Elegia Qninta :* hat varioas- 
readings from the printed editions and other msb. are given in 
the saccessiye Notes and Illastrations. 

This Elegy originally appeared in the edition of 1635 (pp. 
255-6), oddly enough, among the Fnneral Elegies or Epicedes ; 
and so it has heen continued in 1639 (pp. 269-70), 1649 (pp. 
257-8), and in all the .after-editions. See our Essay for Dean 
Milman's remarks on this Elegy. 

Line 8, * 9tarvinge ;' so '35 : * striving' '69 : * starvelinge' 
Addl. MBS. 18647. 

Line 7, * parents*:' ihid. * father's:* * parents" is an addi- 
tional hiographic fact. 

Line 9, ' those ;' ihid. ' the :' so '69. 
„ 12, * wayes ;' 1669 and Addl. mss. 18647 * meanes.' 
„ 14, * 8tiU ;' BO '35, '39, '49 : '69 drops it, and perhaps 
Donne struck it out as superfluoas, intending a stress to he 
laid on * feigndd,' in opposition to * true mistris.* 

Line 18. 1635, '39, '49, and '69 read 

' My soul from other lands to thee shiUI soare.' 

' Towards' seems to express a fine humility in the reunion. 

Line 23, ' Orethea ;' '69 * The faire O.' 
„ 28, ' mynde's .-' I have accepted this from Ac^dl. mss. 
18647 : usually * minde.' 

Line 31, ' apes.' It will serve to explain the thought, if it be 
remembered that * pages' were frequently called * apes.' 

Line 34, * Spittles* = hospitals. ' The Spittle* was long th« 

f ^ 


t . 

164 KLEGIE8. 

Line 36, * itagc* This sftying, whieh Shakespeare puts into 
the month of Jacques, is by Ben Jonson, in his Every Man 
ont of his Hnmonr, attribnted to a philosopher. It has also 
been assigned to Pythagoras. 

Line 37. I accept this line from 1669 in preference to *35, 
'39, »49 : 

' WiU qnioUy knowe thee ; and no losae, alas I' 

Onr MS. reads confusedly 

* Will qaickly knowe thee ; and knowe thee, alas :* 
18647 even worse, 

' Will quickly know thee, and knowe thee, and ahw.' 

Line 40, ' haunt :' usually * hunt.* 
„ 41, ' vext.* Modem English would require * with,' which 
Donne I suppose considered sufficiently expressed in the ' with' 
of the previous line. 

Line 46, ' great :' usually * greatest.' 
„ 60, * Love' 9 /((>>•<•«'= [probably] the forcing of or viol- 
ence done to love : 18647 reads badly * lovers.' 

Line 61, * Oh :' in 18647 * oh 6 :' usually * midnight's.' 
„ 63, ' alone ;' our mb. misreads ' alas :' our text '36 to 

„ 66, ' dread :' our ms. has ' greate ;' but ' dread* of '36 to 
'69 is better. G. 


Fond woman, which wold'st haue thy husband dye, 
And yet complayn'st of his great jealousie : 
If swolne with poison he lay in his last bedd, 
His body with a sere-barke covered, 
Drawinge his breath as thick and short, as can 
The nimblest crotchetinge musitian, 
Keady with loathsome vomitingc to spewc 
His sowle out of one helle into a newc, 


Made deafe with his pore kyndred's howling cries, 

l^gglnge with few fayn'd tears, great legacies ; i o 

Thou wold*st not weepe, but jolly and frolicque be, 

As a slave, which to-morrow shold be free ; 

Yet weep'st thou, when thou seest him hungerlie 

Swallow his owne death, hart*8-bane, jealousy. 

O give him many thanks, he's curtious, 1 5 

That in suspectinge, kyndly wameth vs ; 

We must not — as ve usde — ^floute openly 

In scofiinge ryddles, his deformity ; • 

Nor, at his board together being sate, 

With words, nor touch, scarse lookes, adulterate : 20 

Nor, when he, swolne and pamper*d with great fare, 

Sits downe and snorts, cag*d in his basket-chayre. 

Must we usurpe his owne bedd any more, 

Nor kisse and play in his howse as before. 

Now I see many daungers ; for that is 25 

His realme, his castle, and his dyocesse. 

But if — as envyous men, which wold revyle 

Their prince, or coyne his gold, themselues exile 

Into another contry and do yt there — 

We play in another's howse, what shold we.feare1 30 

There we will scorne his household polycies. 

His silly e plotts and pentionary spyes : siiiy 

As the inhabitants of Thames' right side 

Do London's Maior, or Germans the Pope's pryde. 





Our text is from Stephens* mb., with Tftrions-readings, &e, 
below, as before. This Elegy originally appeared in the 4to of 
1683, where it is headed simply * Elegie I.' (pp. 44-6). It has 
been reprinted in all the after-editions, and is found in all the 
MSB. Stephens' heads it ' Elegia Prima. ' It was first entitled 
Jealousie in 1685 edition, and so in 1639 and 1649. I have 
marked the source of each title by printing the word or words 
in small capitals. 

Line 4, ' sere-barke .* so in all the printed editions, except 
1669, which reads * sere-doth.' It was a then belief that some 
poisons produced a tetter oyer the skin; 'and having spoken of 
poison and a swoln body, the poet alters the idea of * sere- 
clothed' body (as in 1669) to one so covered or barked with a 
tetter that it is enclosed as in a sere-cloth. A curious ex- 
ample of the belief occurs in the last scene of Middleton's 
Women beware Women, where, as is clear from Bianca's words, 
her face shows as * tettered,' from kissing the lips of the poi- 
soned Duke. The sight of a person covered with the drying-up 
and black emphor of confluent small-pox best explains Donne's 
idea ; and his form of words is interpreted by the Ghost's 

* And a most instant tetter bark'd about 
Host laiar-Iike with Tile and loathsome crust 
All my smooth body.' Hamlet, i. 6. 

Cf. also bark=skin, in Progress of the Soul, st. xxxii. line 5. 
On account therefore of these instances, we must suppose the 
person satirised was a great glutton rather than a high feeder 
(line 21) ; such a one as Marvell describes Clarendon and others. 

Line 10, *few:^ ms. 18647 reads * some few.' 

11, * jolly.* See note on this word in Satire i. line 7. 
20. The construction may be — Nor adulterate our 
scarce looks with words nor touch — or, Nor adulterate as we sit 
together with words or with touch, and scarcely even with looks. 

Line 23. Stephens' ms. unrhythmicaUy, * We must not usurp 
his our bed any more.' I accept 1669 and usual text here. 

Line 25, * many,' 1669 reads * Now do I see my dangers.' G. 






Marrt, and love thy Flavia, for shee 

Hath all things, wherby others beawtious bee ; 

For, though her eyes be small, her mouth is great ; 

Though theirs be ivory, yet her teeth are jet ; 

Though they be dymme, yet she is light enough, 5 

And though her harsh haire fall, her skin is tough ; 

What thoughe her cheeks be yellow, her hayre*s redd. 

Give her thyne, and she hath a maydenhead. 

These things are bewty's elaments ; where these elements 

Meet in one, that one must, as perfect, please. i o 

K redd and whyte, and each good quallitye 

Be in thy wench, ne*re ask where it doth lye. 

In buyinge things perfumde, we ask if there 

Be muske and amber in yt, but not where. 

Thoughe all her parts be not in the usual place, 1 5 

Yet she hath the anagram of a good face. 

If we might put the letters but one way. 

In that lean dearth of words, what cold we say 1 

When by the gameutt some musitians make 

A perfect songe, others will undertake 20 

By the same gamut chaunged to asquall it 

Things symply good can neuer be vnfytt ; 

Shee*s faire as any, if all be like her. 

And if none be, then she is singular. 


168^ ELEGIES. 

All love is wonder ; if we justly doe 25 

Account her wonderfuU, why not louely too ? 

Loue built on bewtie, soone as bewty, dyes : 

Chuse this face, changed by no deformityes. • 

Woomen are all like angels ; the fayre bee 

Like those that fell to worse ; but such as shee, 30 

Like to good angels, nothing can impaire : 

'Tis les greif to be fowle then to 'have bene fayre. than 

For one nighVs revels, silk and gold we chuse, 

But in long jornoys cloth and leather use. 

Bewty is barren oft; best husbands say 35 

There is best land where is y« fowlest way. 

Oh ! what a soveraigne plaister will she bee, 

If thy past synns haue taught thee jealosye ! 

Heere needs no spyes nor eunuches, her commyt 

Safe to thy foes, yea, to a marmosit. 40 

When Belgians cittyes the fowll country drowns, 

That durty fowlness guards and armes the towns ; dirty 

Soe doth her face guard her, and soe for thee 

Which forct by busines absent oft must bee : 

She, whose face, like the clowds, turnes day to night, 45 

Who (mightier than the sea) makes Mores peem white ; 

Whom, thoughe seven years she in the stews had layd 

A nunnerie durst receive, and thinke a mayd ; 

And though in chyld-birth*s labour she did lye, 

Midwives wold swear 'twere but a tympanic, 50 

Whom, if she 'accuse her self, I credytt lesse 

Then witches, which impossibles confesse. 


Whom dildoes, bed-staves, and her vehiet glasse 
Wold be as loath to touch as Joseph was. 
One like none, and lik'd of none, fittest were ; 55 

For things in fashion euery man will ware. wear 


Our text is from Stephens* ms., with yariouB-readingft, &c. 
below, as before. It is there headed ' Elegia Decima Septima.* 
It appeared originally in the 4to of 1633 (pp. 45-47), where it 
is * Elegie II. ;' and has been reprinted in all the after-editions. 
It was first headed * The Anagram' in 1635 edition. 

Line 4, * theirs.^ 1 accept this from 1669 ; nsnally and in 
our MS. ' they.* 

lb. * ar« .-'"nsnally 'be.' 

Line 5, ' she is,' as usually, I prefer to ' is she* of Stephens' ms. 
tt 6, *fall ;' sometimes in mss. ' foule,' wrongly. 

lb. ' toughf^ as in 1639 : Stephens' ms. ' rough.' It is diffi- 
cult to choose a reading, and I fancy it puzzled Donne here ; 
but there is some anagrammatising in ' hairs fall' and * skin* 
being to make up for it ' tough :' none in * rough.* The former 
therefore is accepted. 

Line 7, 'yellow:' 1669 spells * yallow,* and ms. 18647 'yal- 

Line 12, 'xoench:' our ms. reads badly 'mouth :* from 1033 
onward ' wench.* 

Line 14, ' amber:' see note in our Marvell. 
„ 16, * the ;* usually ' an,* but ' the* in 1685 also : in 1669 
' anagrams.* 

line 18, ' that:' our ms. ' the* not so good. 
„ 21, ' gamut chaunged :' our ms. ' gamut - change* — a 
blunder. The first song is . . . notes in gamut order and a 
gamut-change cannot be the ' same ;* while a second song wc 
can understand to bring notes of the gamut anagrammatised, or 
the same gamut changed or read according to some other order- 

Line 25, ' wonder:' our ms. misreads ' wonderfull,* probably 
caught from next line. 

Line 30, ' that^' usually ' which.* 
„ 33, ' night'g reveU:' our ms. misreads ' night-revels.* 

VOL. 1. z 


Line 35, ' /tii«&aR^'= husbandmen. 
36, * is y'.* usaaUj * there is.' 

40, * marmosit :' a term apparently for rakish gallants, 
taken from that species of licentione monkey-tribe which were 
the pets of the ladies. 

Line 41. 1635 to 1649 read ' Wlien Belgiae's cities the round 
conntreis drowne :' 1669 ' Like Belgians cities when the Country 
is drowned.* 

Line 46, *8ea:^ *6un' sometimes found in hss. {e.g, Chet- 
ham us. ), wrongly. There is a reference to the proverbial say- 
ing as to the impossibility of washing a blackamoor white. 

Line 49, * ehy Id-birth's:' in 1633 ' child-bed's.' The former is 
preferable, because a child-bed labour may result in a tympany 
or mooncalf, whereas Donne says in accord with the context, 
were it a veritable child-birth labour no midwife would believe 
it to be such. See Cotgrave as quoted in our Marvell, pp. 42-3, 
and also our Southwell, p. 92 : ' tympanic,* a false conception, 
mola, or mooncalf. The word was also used in its present 
acceptation by medical writers and others. See Boord's Brev. 
of Health, b. i. c. 345 ; and Holyoke, s. v. 

Lines 53-4. First printed in 1669 edition : dildoes, see be- 
fore : * velvet glass,' see Marston in his Satires and Scourge of 
Villany {bis). G. 



Although thy hand and faith and good works too 
Haue seal'd thy love, which nothinge ahold iindoe ; 
Yea, though thou fall back, that apostacye 
Confirmes thy loue ; yet much, much I fear tliee. 
Women are like the Arts, forct vnto none, 
Open to all searchers, vnpriz'd if vnknowne. 
If I have caught a bird, and let hym fly. 
Another fouler, using these means as I, 


May catch the same bird ; and, as these things bee, 

Women are made for man, not him, nor mee. to 

Foxes and goats — aU beasts — change when they please. 

Shall women, more hott, wilie, wyld, then these, than 

Be bownd to one man ? and did Nature then 

Idly make them apter to endure then men? than 

They are our cloggs, not their own ; if a man be 15 

Chayn*d to a gaily, yet the gallie's free. 

Who hath a plow-land, casts all his seed-corn there. 

And yet allowes his grownd more come should beare ; 

Though Danuby into the sea must flowe, 

The sea receives the Rhine, Volga and Po : 20 

By nature, which gave it, this liberty 

Thou lov'st, but oh ! can'st thou love it and me ? 

Likenes glews love ; and then if so she doe. 

To make vs like and love, must I change too ? 

More then thy hate, I hate it ; rather let mee than 25 

Allowe her change, then change as oft as shee ; than 

And soe not teach, but force my opyn'on, 

To love not any one, but every one. 

To live in one land is captivitye, 

To run all country es a wild roguery ; 30 

Waters stink soone, if in one place they 'byde, 

And in the vast sea are worse putrifyde. 

But when they keepe one banck, and leaving this 

Never looke back, but the next bank do kisse. 

Then are they purest; Change is the nursery 35 

Of musique, joye, life, and etemitie. 

1 72 GLEGiK8. 


Oar text is from Stephens* ms. with varions-readingB, drc. 
below, as before. It is there nambered * Elegia Dnodecimo.' 
It appeared origiiially in 1633 edition, and has been reprinted 
in all since. It was first headed * Change' in 1635 : nsoally 
simply * Elegie III.' 

line 2, * shold:' us. 18647 * conld.' 
„ 3. This is extremely elliptioal. This woman is change- 
able, and he conceits upon it thns — As one who apostatises 
[and then by returning to his old faith] confirms his belief 
more than if he had continued in it through mere habit and 
prejudice, so, though thou fell away from me [and by returning 
to my love] hast confirmed thy previous protestations, yet still 
1 fear thee. This agrees with the general argrament of the 
poem in favour of occasional change like his, but not of im- 
moderate like hers. 

Line 10, * man :' usually and in our ms. * men :' I accept 
' man' from ms. 18647. 

Line 11. Our ms. and usually ' Foxes, goats, and all beasts,' 
wrongly : our text 1635. 

Line 15, ' not ;' our ms. reads * and :' * not' 1635 and usually. 
„ 17, 'plow-land's: as much as one plough will culti- 
vate : MSB. badly * plough 'd.' 

Line 23. Our ms. ' then if so she,' wrongly : ms. 18647 ' then 
. . . thou.' 

Line 28. I accept * nor' as usually printed, rather than * but' 
of our MS., inasmuch as he humorously praises change, but 
exclaims against immoderate, his opinion that he would enforce 
being ' neither to love any one alone nor yet eveiy one.' Then, 
* to live in one land,' he goes on to say, is ' captivity,' to run all 
countries a wild vagabondage, and so lines 31-2 ; after which he 
returns to his vow by the simile of waters in a river. See note 
on line 3. 

Line 30, ' roguery:'' not in the derivative sense of cheatery, 
but in the original of vagabondism. 

Line 32, * worse.' usually 'more:* 1669 reads 'purif'd.' I 
don't understand the philosophy here. 

Line 33, ' keepc-' usually ' kisse.' G. 




Once, and but once fownd in thy companie, 

All thy siipposde escapes are layd on mee ; 

And as a theife at bar is questioned there 

By all the men that haue been rob*d that yeare, 

So am I (by this traiterous means surprisede) 5 

By thy hydroptique father catechized. 

Though he had wont to search with glazed eyes, 

As though he came to kill a cokatrice ; 

Though he hath oft swome that he will remove 

Thy beauty's bewty, and food of our love, 1 o 

Hope of his goods, if I with thee were seene ; 

Yet close and secret, as our sowles, we have bene. 

Though thy immortall mother, which doth lye 

Still buryed in her bedd, yet will not dye, 

Takes that advantage to sleep out daylight, 1 5 

And watch thy entryes and retomes all night ; 

And when she takes thy hands, and would seem kynd, 

Doth search what rings and armlets she can finde ; 

And kissinge notes the color of thy face. 

And, fearing least thou art swolne, doth thee embrace ; 20 

And to try if thou long, doth name strange meats. 

And notes thy paleness, blushinghs, sighs, and sweats. 

And politiquely will to thee confesse 

The sins of her owne youth's rancke wantones ; 


Yet loue these sorceryes did remove, and move 25 

Thee to gull thine owne mother for my loue. 

Thy little brethren, which like feary sprightes fairy 

Oft skipt into our chamber those sweet nightes ; 

And kyst and ingled on thy father^s knee. 

Were bryb'd next day, to tell what they did see : 30 

The grym eight-foote-highe iron-bo wnd serving- man, 

That oft names God in oathes, and only than, then 

He that to barr the first gate doth as wyde 

As the great Ehodian colossus stryde. 

Which, if in hell no other paines there were, 35 

Makes me feare hell, because he must be there : 

Though by thy father he were hyrde to this. 

Could never wytnes any touch or kisse. 

But, oh ! too common ill, I brought with mee 

That, which betraid me to myne enemye, — 40 

A lowd PERFUME, which at my entrance cryde 

Even at thy father's nose, — so we were spyde ; 

When, like a tyran-king, that in his bedd 

Smelt gunpowder, the pale wretch shyverfcd ; 

Had it bene some badd smell, he would have thought 

That his own feet or breath the smell had wrought; 46 

But as we in our isle imprisoned, 

Where cattell only and dyvers doggs are bredd, 

The precious unicome, straunge monstrous call ; 

So thought he good strange, that had none at all. 50 

I taught my sylks their whistlings to forbeare, 

Even my opprest shoes dumbe and speachles were : 



Onely, thou bytter-sweet, whom I had layd 

Next mee, mee traytorously hast betrayde, 

And, unsuspected, hast invisablie 55 

Att once fledd unto him, and stayd with mee. 

Base excrement of earth, which dost confound 

Sense from distinguishing the sick from sound ; 

By thee the sillie Amorous sucks his death, 

By drawing in a leprous harlott's breath ; 60 

By thee the greatest staine to man's estate 

Falls on us, — to be call'd effeminate*; 

Though you be much lov'd in the Prince's hall. 

There things, that seome, exceed substantiall. 

Gods, when yee fum'd on alters, were pleas'd well, 65 

Because you were burnt, not that they likM your smell : 

You are loathsome all, being taken simply alone, 

Shall wee love ill things ioyn'd, and hate each one ? 

If you were good, your good doth soone decaye ; 

And you are rare, — that takes the good away. 70 

All my perfumes, I give most willingly 

T' enbalm thy father^s coorse. What ! will he dy 1 


Oar text is Stephens* ms., with yarioas-readings, &c, below, 
as before, but it ends at line 58 ; from line 58 to end oar text is 
from AdcU. mbs. 18647. It appeared originally in 4to of 1633, 
where it is * Elegie IV.' It was first headed * The Perfume* in 
1635, and so onward. 

Line 2, ' ««cap«<*=escapadeB. 
„ 5, ' this :* our ms. , catching it from next line-, misreads 

1 76 ELE0IE8. 

Line 6, ' hydroptique :^ the coiuttant Rpelling in Donne, and 
not pecnliar to him, for hydropic or dropsical. 

Line 7, ' wont.* Donne always nses this verb without the 
substantive verb, thereby diffeiing from the generality at least 
of his contemporaries. 

Line 8. It was a belief that the cocatrice or basilisk * slayeth 
all things that hath lyfe [except the weasel] with breathe and 
with sight ;' and it was also a belief controverted by Sir Thomas 
Browne in his Psendodoxia Ep. that it killed * by priority of 
vision,' and therefore that it was necessary to safety to see it 
first. Hence the simile well describes her father's intent and 
suspicions searchings. 

Line 10, * Thy beauty's bewty :' our ms. * Thy bewtious 
bewty,' which seems tautological. The idea * The beauty of 
thy various beauties' (face, arm, shape, &o.) seems better other- 
wise : accepted, and so usually. 

Line 16, ^retomes:* our ms. badly * retome :' and also badly 
* the' for ' all' of 1633, &c. 

Line 21, * And:' our mb. 'To try if thou dost long:' but I 
accept the usual text, the more so that to commence several 
lines with the same word was a conceit of the day. 

Line 22, * blushinghs.' 1669 * blushes.' 
„ 24, * wantones .-' usually * lustiness.' 
„ 29, ' kist' = [being kist] . 

lb. * ingled .•' 1669 ' dandled.' Ingled= petted, and probably 
cosied as in an ingle. 

Line 43, * tyran .' invariably so spelled by the purist Ben 

Line 45, * smell {* see former note on Satire i. line 90. 
,, 50, *good:' 1669 'sweet:' the antithesis is between 
' bad' (line 45) and * good' here. 

Line 63, ' bytter-Bweet'=the poisonous Solanum dulcamara. 

„ 60, ' breath .•' alluding to the use of perfumed comfits 

and sweets such as are still used by men who smoke, and by 

women, and also to the then fixed belief that the oonstitutional 

results of the morbus gallicns were contagious. 

Line 63, * you :' and so usually : our ms. ' thou. ' I prefer 
beginning the change to the plural ' you' here, instead of at line 
65, chiefly on account of the verb ' loved.' There was a great 
distinction made between ' thou' and * you' in matter of affec- 
tion, the ' thou' being, like the second singular in French and 
German, a sign of endearment and great affection. The * thou' 


and * thee' and * thine* of Bhakespearo's Sonnets become 'yon/ 
&c. in those occasional passages where any real or feigned es- 
trangement is spoken of. G. 



Here take my pioture, though I bidd farewell ; 

(Thiue, in my hart where my sowle dwels shall dwell;) 

'Tis like me now, but I dead, 'twil be more L'^**'^' 

When we ar ahadowes both, then 'twas before. 

When weather-beaten I come back, my hand 5 

Perhaps with rude oares torn, or sunbeames tanM ; 

My face and brest of hayrecloath, and my head 

With Care's harsh suddaine hoariness o'respread ; 

My body a sack of bones, broakcn within, 

And powder's blew staines scatterd on my skyn : -i o 

If rivall fooles tax thee to have lov'd a man 

So fowle and course, as, oh ! I may seeme than, then 

This shall say what I was : and thou shalt say, 

Do his hurts reach me) doth my worth decay? 

Or do they reach his judginge mynd, that hee 1 5 

Should now loue less, what he did loue to see ? 

That which in him was faire and delicate, 

Was but the milk, which in Loue's childish state 

Did nurse it : who now is growne strong enough 

To feed on that, which to weak tastes seems tough. 20 

VOL. I. A A 



Our text is from Stephens' ics. as before, where it is num- 
bered ' Elegia Secunda.' It appeared originally in 4to of 1633 
(pp. 51-2), and in all after-editions. It is headed * His Picture' 
in 1635. We have made the heading more definite. 

Line 8. 1633, * With care's rash sodaine stormes, being 

Line 16, ' nowloue less ;' so usually : our hs. * lyke and loue 
less.' The former I accept. Loving involves liking, and \he 
only excuse for the two would be the repetition of both in the 
second half of the clause and line. * Love less' also seems to re- 
quire * now,' or some mark of time ; and the rhythm of the ms. 
reading is harsh, and puts the pause at * love,' while the scan- 
sion is irregular. 

Line 19, ' nwrse.^ I accept * nurse' of 1633 and usually 
rather than ' nourish' of our ms. ' Nurse' better keeps up the 
suggestion of the infantile state than ' nourish,' which is ap- 
plicable to the strong food of a man. To ' nurse' is a form of 
* nourish ;' but as Richardson says, * to nurse is more especially 
applied when that which is nursed is young or sickly.' I accept 
also the usual * weak,' rather than ' disus'd,' of our mb. ' Dis- 
us'd' gives bad scansion, and ' weak' agrees better with the con- 
text, * childish state,' and is in opposition to ' strong^ stomach 
of manhood. Then the love of his rivals may be, as he says, 
* * weak,' but it was not * disus'd.* It was his and hers that was 
disus'd by absence, though in fact it is not supposed to be dis- 
us'd or in abeyance. 

Line 20, * disus'd^' 1633 ; our us. * disyre's :' usually * weak.* 


Oh ! let me not serve soe, as those men seme, 
Whom Honor's smoaks at once fatten and sterve, 
Poorly enriched with great men's words or lookes ; 
Nor so ^vrite my name in thy loving bookes, 


As those idolatrous flatterers, which still 5 

Their Prince's style with many realms fulfill, 

Whence they no tribute haue, and where no sway. 

Such services I oifer as shall pay 

Themselues ; I hate dead names : oh then let me 

Favorite in ordinary, or no favorite bee.- 10 

Whenas my sowle was in her bodie sheath'd, 

Nor yet by oathes betrothed, nor kisses breathed 

Into my purgatorie, faithles thee ; 

Thy hart seem'd wax, and Steele thy constancy : heart 

So careles flowers, strode on the water's face, strewed 15 

The curled whirlpoles smack, suck, and embrace, 

Yet drownes them ; aoe the taper^s beamy eye. 

Amorously twinckling, beckons the giddie fly, 

Yet bullies his wings ; and such the Devill is, 

Scarse visi tinge them who arc entyrely his. 20 

When I behold a streame, which from the spring 

Doth with doubtfull melodious murmiringe. 

Or in a speechles slumber calmly ride 

Her wedded channel's bosome, and there chyde 

And bend her browes, and swell, if any bovgh 25 

Doe but stoope downe to kisse her utmost browe ; 

Yet if her often-gnawinge kisses wynn 

The trayterous bancks to gape and let her in, 

She rusheth vyolently, and doth divorce 

Her from her native and her long-kept coarse, 30 

And roares and braves it, and in gallant scome. 

In flattering eddies promising retume. 

180 ELiSGIES. 

She flowtes her channel!, which thenceforth is dry ; 

Then say I, that is she, and this am I. 

Yet let not thy deepe hittemes hegett 35 

Carelesse dispair in me, for that will whett 

My mynd to scorne ; and, oh ! Love dul'd with paine. 

Was ne're so wise, nor well arm*d with disdain. 

Then with new eyes I shall survay thee, and spie 

Death in thy cheekes, and darknes in thyne eye : 40 

Though hope hreed faith and loue, thus taught, I shall. 

As nations doe from Home, from thy loue fall ; 

My hate shall outgrow thyne, and utterly 

I will renownce thy dallyance : and when I 

Am the Kecusant, in that resolute state 45 

What hurts it me to he excommunycate 1 


Our text is from Stephens' hs. as before, where this Elegy 
is numbered ' Elegia Octava.* It appeared originally in 4to of 
1633 (pp. 53-5), and in all after-editions. I have headed it 
' Favorite in Ordinary.' 

Line 4, ' my . . . thy^ and so usually ; our mb. * thy . . . my.' 
I accept the former. The subsequent simile is at its best bad ; 
but the us. changes here, though at first sight they seem to im- 
prove it, make it worse. If Donne put her name in his books, 
he certainly would not insert her lovers, his rivals. Therefore 
he cannot be said to * fulfil his Prince's style.' Again, what he 
is referring .0 is the cheque-rolls or muster-rolls of her house- 
hold and retainers ; and he says, * Let me not for mere form's 
sake have my name inserted in ostentatious and vain muster- 
roll of your attendants : " I hate dead names," ' ttc. — such a 
roll as flatterers make when they describe their king by giving 
him sway over realms he does not possess; e.g, still' our mon- 
archs are called king at queen of France. 


The badness of the Bimile lies in this, that the acts of the 
flatterers are put in connection with her acts, and this state 
with that of the Prince ; and so it seems to liken her to the 
flatterers, and himself to the Prince. (So in next Elegy, lines 
29-80, he makes *her* his mi8tress=*him,* a colt growing np 
to a male horse.) The xs. reading gets rid of this, hot at the 
expense of the thought inTolved, that he does not wish to be a 
nominal attendant, nor be nominally enrolled as one, without 
being really subject to her. 

Line 6, ' realms ;* 1669 ' names.* 
„ 7, * where:* 1669* bear.' 

„ 9, * dead namee ;* see note on Satire i. lines 17-18. 
„ 24, * there ^' 1669 ; usually * then,* and so our xs. wrongly. 
„ 26, * utmost ;* * upmost' in 1683, wrongly. 
„ 88, *with disdain' = compared with disdain. At first 
blush the expression is ambiguous, for it suggests that the 
meaning is = armed, with disdain for armour; while the form 
of the sentence, and the words * ne'er so wise,* show that this 
cannot be. The meaning is, * A Lorer dull'd with despairing 
pain is not so wise nor so well armed as one whetted with 
Boom ;* or poetiei, * Love dull'd with pain is not, Ac, as Dis- 
dain.' I accept the xs. in preference to ' aq Disdain,* with our 

Line 89, * thee ;' 1669 drops * thee.' 
„ 45, * Reeutant,* Donne was originally a Boman Ca- 
tholic. G. 



I^aturb's lay-ideot, I taught thee first to love, 
And in that sophistry, oh ! how thou didst prove 
Too subtill ! Fool, thou didst not understand 
The mistique language of the eye nor hand : 
Nor could*8t thou judge the difference of the ayre 
Of sighs, and sale this lies, this sownds dispaire : 

182 ELE0IE8. 

Nor by the eye's water cast a malady 

Desperately hot, or changing feverouslye. 

I had not taught thee then the alphabett 

Of flowers, how they, devisefully being sett lo 

And bownd up, might with speechles secresie 

Deliver errands mutely 'and mutually. 

Kemember, since all thy words vsde to bee 

To every suytor, * I, if my freinds agree ;' Ay 

Since howshold charms, thy husband's name to teach, 1 5 

Were all thy love-tricks that thy witt could reach ; 

And since an howr's discourse cold scarse have made 

One answer in thee, and that ill-aray'd 

In broken proverbes and tome sentences. 

Thou art not by so many dutyes his, 20 

(That, from the world's common hivinge sevcr'd thee, 

Inlayd thee, neither to be seene nor see,) 

As myiie, who have with amorous delioacyes 

Kefynde thee into a blysfuU paradice. 

Thy graces and good works my creatures bee, 25 

I planted knowledge and life's tree in thee ; 

Which, oh ! shall strangers tast ? Must I, alas ! 

Frame and inamel plate, and drinke in glas 1 

Chafe wax for other's seals ] break a colt's force. 

And leave him then being made a ready horse ? 3c 


Onr text is from Stepheus' ms. as before, where it is num- 
bered * Elegia Decima tercia :' in Haslewood-Kingsborongh ms. 


* Elegy 3^"*/ It appeared originally in the 4to of 1633 (pp. 
65-6), and in all after-editions. 

Line 1, * lay:* need perhaps in the sense in which it is nsed 
hy the painters — ^layman, or a lay figure, which has no motion 
in itself. Bat Donne seems to use it elsewhere as laic, not 
cleric, and therefore ignorant. Cf. Second Ep. to Conntess of 
Bedford, line 50, * On these I cast a lay and country eye.* 
Ih. * first :' usually dropped ; and so line 2, ' how.* 
Line 7, * cast:* in 1683 * call ;* 1689, &c. * know.' The word 

* cast* proves our ms. of this Elegy to he later and revised, he- 
canse it is evidently an alteration from and improvement on 

* know.' It is here used medically. It was the technical term 

for diagnosing the disease hy other water than eye-water. Cf . 

Macheth (v. 3) : 

* If thou ooaldst, doctor, cast 
The water of my land, find her diaeose, 
And purge it to a sound and pristine health.' 

Line 13, *ftne«*:=remember [all that has passed hetween 
you and me, all my teachings] since all thy words, and since, 
&e. ; t. e. rememher and compare hoth times, since and the 
time when. 

Line 22, ' Inlay d,* as a composite, not a compound word— 
laid thee in, or sequestered thee. 

Line 23, * delieacyes :* 1633 onward: our xs. *delightes,* 

Line 25, * vxyrks :' 1633 and onward * words ;* hut 1669 

* works.' 

I have headed this Elegy from line 23. G. 



As the sweet sweat of roses in a styll, 

As that, which from chafd musket's pores doth trill, 

As the almightie balm of the 'orient East, 

Such are the sweat-drops on my mistres' brest ; 


And on her neck her skyn such bistro setts, 5 

They seeme no sweat-dropps, but pearle carkanets. 
Kanck sweatie froth thy mistresse' brow defyles, 
Like spennatique issue of ripe menstruous byles ; 
Or like that scum, which, by Need's lawles law 
Enforced, Sancerra's starved men did draw 10 

From parboyl'd shoos and bootes, and all the rest, 
Which were with any soveraigne fatness blest ; 
Or like vyld stones lying in safTron'd tynn, 
Or warts, or wheals, it hangs upon her chynn. 
Bound as the world's her heade, on every syde, 15 
Like to that fatal ball which fell on Ide : 
Or that, whereof God had such jealosy, 
As for the ravishing thereof we dy. 
Thy head is like a rough-hewen statue of jett. 
Where markes for eyes, nose, mouth, ar yet scarse sett; 
Like the iirst chaos, or flatt-seeminge face 2 1 

Of Cynthia, when th' Earth shadows her imbrace. 
Like Proserpine's white bewty-keeping chest, 
Or Jove's best fortune's vme, is her faire brest. 
Thyne, like a worm-eaten trunck cloth'd in seal's skin ; 
Or grave, that's durt without, and stench within. 26 
And like the slender stalk, at whose end stands 
The woodbyne quivering, are her arms and hands : 
Like rough-barkt elme-boughes, or the russet skin 
Of men late scourged for madness, or for sinne ; 30 
Like sun-parcht quarters on the citie's gate, 
Such is thy tan'd skinne's lamentable state ; 

ELE6IBB. 185 

And like a bunch of ragged carrels stand 

The scurfe-swoUen lingers of the gowty hand. 

Then like the Chimick's masculine-equal fire, 35 

Which in the lymbeck's warme womb dothe inspin* 

Into th' earth's worthies durt a sowle of gold, 

Such cherishinge heat her best-worst part doth hold. 

Thine's like the dread-mouth of a fyr^d gunn, 

Or like hot liquid mettals newly runn 40 

Into clay mowlds, or like to that iEtna, 

Where round about the grasse is burnt away. 

Are not your kysses then as filthie and more, 

As a worme suckinge an envenomed sore ] 

Doth not thy fearfull hand in feeling quake, 45 

As one which gathering flowers, still fears a snake ? 

Is not your last act harsh and vyolent. 

As when a plowgh a stony ground doth rent 1 

So kisse good turtles, so devoutly nyce 

Are preists in handiinge reverent sacrifize, 50 

And such in searching wownds the surgeon is, 

As we, when we embrace, or touch, or kisae ; 

Leave her, and I will leave comparinge thus, 

Shee and comparisons are odyous. 


Oar text is from Stephens' ms. as before, where it is num- 
bered * Elegia Qnarta :* in Haslewood-Kingsboroagh ms. * Elt^^y 
6^**.' It appeared originally in 1635 edition, and since in aftor- 
editions. * 

Line 2, *chaf'd:^ oar ms. 'chas'd;' but so far as I can 



judge, * chas'd' is a clerical error. This is the more probable, 
in that if it ' trilled' from chased animals, it coold hardly be 
' gathered.* . ' Chaf *d* is also supported by a curious quotation 
by Sir Thomas Browne in Pseudod. (b. iii. c. 4) ; and as matter 
of fact civet-cats must be fretted and vexed before the civet is 
taken out of the bag ; * for the more the animal is enraged, the 
musk is the better* (Home, Essays and Thoughts ; as in Richard- 
son's Diet. 8.V, civet). See also Lovell's History of Anima.l« and 
Minerals (1661) for quaint lore. 

Line 2, ' trill ;' see our full note in Henbt Yauohan, b.v. 
„ 8, *orie7it:^ usually * early:' perhaps the former is 
tautological, and as such may have been altered by Donne to 
' early.' 

Line 6, ' carkanets :' usually * coronets.' 
,, 8. In this horrible line, * menstruous' is probably = 
polluting or filthy, a latinate sense. The old medical writers 
yield elucidations, but I mind not quoting. 

Line 10, * Sancerra .•' the allusion is to the siege of Sancerre 
near Bourges, in which the besieged suffered the extreme of 
famine, in 1578. It was held by the Protestants against the Ca- 
tholics, and the siege lasted nine months. 

Line 13, * Or,* usually *And;* *vyld,' usually *vile;' *saf- 
fron'd tynn'= coloured tinfoil. 

Line 14, * wheal :' a pimple, vesicle, or pustule. It is curious 
that Johnson gives this sense under ' wheal ;' but quotes this 
very passage under ' weal* for the mark of a stripe. 

lb. ' chynn ;' usually * skinn.' I accept the usual ' it hangs* 
for ' they hang' of ms. Cf. line 7. 

Line 19, a curious change to apostrophising the friend's 
mistress, which continues to line 87. 

Line 22, ' Earth:' usually 'Earth's.' 
„ 26. * durt :' usually * dust.' 

„ 34, * scurfe .' usually ' ghort ;' * the gowty,' 1669 * mis- 
tress :' * the gouty' is preferable, being rare in women. 

Line 88, * best-worst :' usually * best-loved.' 
61, * siich ;' usually * nice.' 

54, ' comparisons are odyous :' an accepted ' household' 
phrase ; but I find it earlier in ' The most horrible murther of 
John Lord Bour^h, 1591' (p. 5, Collier's reprint) — * scornefuU 
tearmes and odious ^mparisons,* 6. 




Xo Springe nor Soiner's bewty hath such grace, 

As I have seene in one adtumnall faob. 

Yonge beutyes force our loues, and that^s a rape ; 

This doth but coun^aile, and you canot 'scape; 

If 'twere a shame to love, here *twere no shame : 5 

Affectyon here takes Tieverence's name. 

Were her first years the Golden Age ? that's true ; 

But now she's gold oft tryde and ever newe. 

That was her torrid and inflaming tymo ; 

This is her tolerable tropique clyme. 10 

Faire eies, who askes more heat then comes from hence, 

He in a fever wisheth pestilence. L'***° 

Call not these wrinckles graves : if graues they were, 

They were Love's graves ; for else he is nowhere. 

Yet lyes not Loue dead here, but heere doth sitt 15 

Vow'd to this trench, like an anachorytt. 

And here, till her's (which must be his) death, come, 

He doth not dygg a grave, but buyld a tombe. 

Heere dwells he ; though he sojourns everywhere 

In progresse, yet his standinge-howse is here ; 20 

Heere, where still evening is, nor noon nor night, 

Where's no voluptucusnes, yet all delight. 

In all her words, unto all hearers fytt, 

You may at revels, you may at councells sytt. 

188 ELEGIB8. 

This is Love's tymber, Youth, his underwood ; 25 

There he, as wyne in June, enrages blood, 

Which then comes seasonablest, when our tast 

And appetyte to other things is past. 

Xerxes's strange Lydian loue, the platan tree, 

Was lov'd for age, none beinge so old as shee, 30 

Or els because, beinge young. Nature did blesse 

Her youth with age*s glory, barreimesse. 

If we loue thinges long sought for, age is a thing, 

Which we are fiftye years in compassinge ; 

If transitorie things, which soone decay, 35 

Age must be loveliest at the latest day. 

But name not wynter-faces, whose skyn is slacke, 

Lank as an unthrifte's purse, — ^but a sowle's sacke ; 

Whose eyes seeke light within, for all heere's shade ; 

Whose mouths are holes, rather wome out then made ; 

Whose every tooth to a severall place is gone L'***" 

To vex their sowle at the Eesurrectyon ; 

Name not these living death's-heads unto mee, 

For these not ancyent but antiques bee : 

I hate extreams : yet I had rather stay 45 

With tombes then cradles, to weare out a day. than 

Since such Love's naturall station is, may still 

My love descend, and journey downe the hyll ; 

Not panting after growinge bewtyes ; soe 

I shall ebb on with them, who homewards goe. 50 





Oar text is from Stephens' ms. as before, where it is nnm- 
bered * Elegia VisceBsima qnarta/ and headed * A Paradox of 
an onld Woman/ It appeared originally in 1635 edition, and 
since in all after-editions, under our heading. 

Line 2, * one :* so 1635 and nsually : onr ms. misreads ' an.' 


3, * our ;' so nsually : our ms. ' your.* 



4, *and:* 1635 *yet,' and usually. 
6, * Affectyon :' usually * affections ;* but while affections 
=^all the affections of one mind, as well as the affection of all, 
is expressive, the double personification of Affection and Rever- 
ence vindicates our ms. reading. 

Line 10, ' tolerable ;' usually ' habitable.' Either seems an 
odd word to express that feeling which would lead one to live 
with another as in a pleasant place ; and to say that the tropic 
dime is only 'tolerable' is a strange way of expressing how 
pleasant it is to dweU with her ; but (1) Donne abounds in such 
oddities ; (2) * tolerable' issshabitable ; and conversely (3) there 
is the usual and inevitable sarcastic touch. 

Line 16, ' anachorytt :' so 1635, &o. : the more Greek form. 

Line 18, * tom6«'=the raised part of the wrinkle, beautiful 
as a mausoleum. 

Lines 23-4. Usually the reading is * Tou may . . . you at.* 
Our MS. * You may . . . you may,' means that one sits at the 
same time at revels and council, t. e. hears jocose and cheerful 
conversation, which is at the same time full of wisdom. Thus 
it answers to the first clause, ' In all her words.* ' Yon may . . . 
you at' means, Some you or some of yon may enjoy revels, and 
other you may sit at council with her. This answers rather to 
the second clause, ' unto all hearers fit,' that she can fit all. 

Line 26, * There^=^itdB of previous line = her. 

29, 'platan tree .' Pliny, N. H. xii. 1-3 ; xvi. 44. 
37-6. Our MS. reads * whose skyn slacke, Lookes like.' 
This is not idiomatic but foreign English. Moreover our text, 
which is that of 1635 and usually, is stronger by dwelling on it. 
First comes the general enunciation, ' whose skyn is slacke ;* 
then the variation and simile, * Lank as an unthiift's purse — but 
[=yet] a sowle's sack.' 




Line 39, 'heere* ^oniBide in the sunken cavity and lack-lns- 
tre eye. 

Line 42, * tfieirJ* I accept ' their' instead of the usual * the' 
(which is also in our ms.), as it agrees better with * wynter- 
faces,' * mouths,* * death's-heads and tombs.' 

Line 47, * ttation ;' so usually ; and I accept it. Our ms. 
has ' acyon'=action, seemingly a clerical error. * Station' agrees 
with what is said of her in line 20, that she is Lore's home. 

At line 37 he digresses to explain what he does not love ; 
and at line 45 he says he hates extremes, though, had he to 
choose one extreme, he would, &q. Then he returns to the 
subject of his song, and doses his eulogy with, Since such 
autumnal face and person is Love's palace, let my love, &c. G. 


Image of her, whome I loue more then she, than 

Whose faire impression in my faithfull hart heart 

Makes me her medall, and makes her love mee, 
As kings do coynes, to which their stamp imparts 
The valew : goe, and take my hart horn hence, 5 

Which now is growne too great and good for mee. 
Honors oppresse weake spirits, and our sence 
Strong objects dull : the more, the lesse wee see. 
When you are gone, and Eeason gone with you. 
Then Fantasie is queene, and sowle, and all ; 10 

8hee can present joyes meaner then you doe ; than 
Convenient, and more proportionall. 


Soe, if I DBEAME I have you, I have you ; 

For aU oui joyes are but fantasticalL 

And 8oe I 'scape the paine, for paine is true ; 1 5 

And 81eepe, which locks upp sense, doth lock up all. 

After such a fruition, I shall wake. 

And, but the wakinge, nothing shall repent ; 

And shaU to Loue more thankfull sonets make, 

Then if more honours, tears, and pains were spent than 

But dearest hart, and dearer image, stay, 2 1 

Alas ! true joyes at best are dream enough ; 

Though you stay here, you passe too fast away ; 

For even at first Life's taper is a snufife. 

Fil'd with her love, may I be rather growne 25 

Madd with much heart, then idiot with none. thaa 


Our text is from Stephens* ms. as before, where it is nnm- 
bered * Elegia Deoima.* It appeared originallj in 1635 edition, 
and since in after-editions. This Elegy is written of one some- 
what obdurate: hence in line 21 he calls the more yielding 
image of his dream the dearer, and in line 1 oaUs her one 
whom he loves more than she [loves him] . 

Line 16, ' np :* nsidkUy * doth look out.* 
„ 22, ' dream ;' I accept this from '85 rather than the 
usual ' dreams* ('Vfhich is also in our ms.), as the plural is more 
readily ambiguous and the singular more forceful = all joyn, 
the whole of them, are but one short dreaoL 

Line 24, ' tnuffe ;* see note on Satire ii. line 82. 
„ 26, * heart :* our ms. ' hurt,* wrongly. G. 






Not that in colour it was like thy hayre, 

For armelets of that thou maist let me weare ; 

Nor that thy hand it oft embrae't and kist, 

For soe yt had the good, which oft I mist ; 

Nor for that sillie old morallity, 5 

That * as these links are tyde, our loves shold bee ;' 

Mourne I, (hat I the seavenfold chatne hane lost. 

Nor for the lucke-sake, hut the bytter cost 

Oh, shall twelue righteous angels, which as yett 

No leaven of vile soder did admitt ; solder 10 

Nor yet by any faults haue strai'd or gone 

From the first state of their creatyon ; 

Angels, which Heaven commanded to provide 

All things to mee, and be my faithfull guyde ; 

To gayne new frends, t' appease great enemy es, 1 5 

To comfort my sowle, when I ly or rise : 

Shall these twelue inocents, by thy severe 

Sentence (great judge) my syn's great burthen bear ? 

Sliall they be damn'd, and in the furnace throwne, 

And punisht for ofences not their owne 1 20 

They saue not me, they doe not ease my paines. 

When in that hell they are burnt and tyde in chain es : 


Were they but crownes of France, 1 cared not, 

For most of them, their natural country rott 

I think possesseth, they come here to vs, 2 5 

So leane, so pale, so lame, and ruynous ; 

And howsoere French kings * most Chriatimi' bee, 

Their crownes are circumcised most Jewishly ; 

Or were they Spanish stamps, still travailing. 

That are become catholique as their king, 30 

Those unlickt bear-whelps, unfyl'd pistolets. 

That (more then cannon-shots) avayles or letts, 

Which, negligently left vnrounded, looke 

Like many-angled fygures in the booke 

Of 80 me great conjurer, which wold enforce 35 

Nature (as thay do Justice) from her course, 

Which, as the sowle quickens head, foot, and hart, he.^rt 

As stream-like vaines run through the Earth's every part, 

Visit all countryes, and haue slylie made 

Gorgeous France, ragged, ruyned, and decay'd ; 40 

Scotland, which knew noe state, prowd in one day ; 

And mangled seventeen-headexl Belgia : 

Or were it such gold as that wherewithal! 

Almightye chimicks from each mynerall. 

Having by subtle fyre a sowle out-pulM, 45 

Are durtily and desperately gulM ; 

I wold not spit to quench the f) re they are in, 

For they are guylty of much hay nous sin. 

But shall my harmles angels perish 1 shall 

I loose my guard, my ease, my food, my all? 50 

VOL. I. cc 


Much hope, which they shold nourish, wilhe dead ; 

Much of my able yowth and liveJie-head 

Will vanish, if thou, Loue, let them alone, 

For thou wilt loue me less when they are gone. 

Oh ! be content, that some lowd-squeakinge cryer, 5 5 

Well pleas'd with one leane th reed-bare grot for hyer, 

May like a divill roare through every street, 

And gall the fynder's conscience if they meet : 

Or let me creep to some dread conjurer, 

Which with fantastique schemes iils full much paper ; 

Which haue devided heaven in tenements, 6 1 

And with whores, theeves, and murtherers stuft his rents 

Soe full, that though he passe them all in synne. 

He leaves himselfe no roome to enter in. 

But if, when all his art and time is spent, 65 

He say 'twill ne're be found ; oh ! be content ; 
Receive the doome from him ungrudgeingly. 
Because he is the mouth of Destiny. 

Thou sai'st, alas ! the' gold doth still remain, 
Though it be chaung'd, and put into a chayne. 70 

Soe in the first falne angels, resteth still 
Wisdom and knowledg, but 'tis turnd to ill : 
As these shold doe good works, and shold provide 
Necessities, but now must nurse thy prydo. 
And they ar still badd angels; myne ar none, 75 

For fonne gives being, and their forme is gone. 
Pitty these angels, yet their dygnities 
Pass Virtues, Powres, and Principalities. 


But thou art resolute : Thy will be done ! 
Yet with such anguish, as her only sonne 80 

The mother in the hungry graue doth lay, 
Unto the lyre these marters I betray. 
Good Bowles, (for you give life to every thing.) 
(irood angels, (for good messages you bringe,) 
Destin'd you might haue been to such an one, 85 

As wold have lov'd and worshipt you alone : 
One that wold suffer hunger, nakednes. 
Yea death, e're he would make your number less. 
But I am guyltie of your sad decay : 
May your few-fellowes longer with nie stay ! 9c 

But, oh ! thou wretched fynder, whom. I hate 
Soe much that I almost pyttie thy estate : 
Gold being the heavyest metall amongst all, 
May my most heaviest curse upon thee fall : 
Here fettred, manacled, and hang'd in chaynes, 95 
First mai'st thou bee, then chained to hellish paines ; 
Or be with foraigne gold brib'd to betray 
Thy contry, and faile both of that and thy paye. 
May the next thing thou stoop'st to reach, containe 
Poyson, whose nymble fume rott thy moist braine ; 
Or ly bells, or some interdicted thinge, loi 

Which, negligently kept, thy ruyne bring. 
Lust-bred diseases rott thee ; and dwell witli thee 
Itchy desire, and no ability e. 

May all the hurt which ever gold hath wrought, 105 
All mischiefs whicli all devills ever thought, 


\Vant after plenty, poore and gowty Age, 

The plague of travailers ; love and marryage, 

Afflict thee ; and at thy live*s latest moment 

May thy fowle syns to thee theniselues present. no 

But I forgive thee ; repent, thou honest man ! 
Gold is restoratiue, restore it than ; then 

But if from yt thou beest loath to depart, 
Because *tis cordiall, wold 'twere at thy hart. heart 


Oar text is Stephens' mb. as before, where it is numbered 
' Elegia Deolma sexta.* It appeared originally in 1635 edition, 
and since in all the after-editions. Onr heading is first found 
in '85 : but * Chaine' is scarcely the right word, seeing it is 
clear from the description that it was a (seyen) chain-bracelet. 
Hence the heading in Haslewood-Kingsborough mb. is more 
accurate : * Upon the Loss of a Bracelet.' See our Essay for 
Ben Jonson's * Conversation' with Drummond of Hawthomden 
on this Elegy. 

Line 2, ' For . . . let .' usually ' Armelets . . . still let.' 
„ 5, ' morcUlity .-' I know no other example of this word 
used to denote a moral saying or posy. 

Line 6, * are tyde :' usually * were knit.' It is most likely 
that the chain-bracelet bore the morality. 

Line 8, ' Nor . . . ttie,' 1 adhere to the usual printed text 
here, rather than accept our mb. ' Not . . . they.' ' Not' sepa- 
rates the thought unnecessarily and unpleasantly from the 
rest, whereas there is an enumeration. Not, nor, nor, nor, Ac. 
Farther, as it is evident that Donne took the * chain-bracelet' 
from her arm and wore it, that * he might have something that 
liad embraced her,' and by misadventure lost it, it seems impos- 
sible that he could write * they.' The omen would he as to his 
luck — that as he had lost, so the loss of her love would follow. 

Line 11. ^fatUt ;' usually * way.' 
„ 13, * Heaven ;' so usually, and I accept it : our mb. 
badly * Heavens' = Heaven bas ; but * had' would be needed, not 
' has.' 


Line 15, * (freat ;* * old' asually. 
„ 16, * rise ;* 80 aenally : oar ms. miereads * raise.' 
„ 18, * great ;' * dread' usaally : and so line 35. 
„ 23, ' erovmes of France ;' a new application of the com- 
mon eqniyoque with regard to the morbiu gallicut : crowns of 
less yalne (6t, Bd,) than angels (lOii.)* 

Line 24, * natural country rott :* '35 'conntrej's natnrall 

„ 26. Usaally *■ So pale, so lame, so lean, and rninons :' 
ooT MS. yields a hotter climax in desorihing the ohser?er's per- 
ception of the progress of the disease. 

Line 29, * Spanish stamps,* On aoooant of the inflax of 'Silver 
irom Mexico, Spanish silyer coins had hecome a oniversal or 
catholic medium of exchange, and all porchases in China and 
the Molaccas are still paid in dollars : * stamp' = coin hearing 
the Spanish stamp. 

Line 31, *pistolets .-' see former note :=26 ryals, lis. 
„ 32, ' cannon ;* so asaally : ovr ms. ' comon.' I prefer 
the former, hecaase as in a similar passage (Satire ii. line 20) 
there is an eqaivoqae on pistolets as money and as small pistols ; 
such small-hore shots, he says, are of more ayail as artillery 
for my parpose than great cannon-shot. 

Line 38. See note in oar Southwell, s. v. 
„ 52, * livelie-head ;' asaally ' lasty.' 
„ 60, * schemes,* As in another case (noted in its place), 
where * scenes' has heen miswritten for * schemes,' I have ven- 
tored to adopt it here instead of the asaal * scenes' and * sheawcs' 
of oar MS. The reference is not to cahalistic and other decora- 
tions or hangings, hat, as the words ' flls fall mach paper' show, 
to astrological * schemes,' drawn oat with the constellations, 
&c. or persons and the like. 

Line 62, * rents' = not the rending, bat the divisions or parts 
BO divided or rent. 

Line 72, * Wisdom ;' a contemporary annotator of 1639 edit, 
has pat in margin * canning.' 

Line 74, * thy ;' so asaally : oar ms. has the not ancommon 
clerical error of * their' for ' thy' [Shakespeare, Sonnets xxvi. 
1. 12 : xxvii. 1. 10 : xxxv. 1. 8 (bis) : xxxvii. 1. 7 : xlv. 1. 12 : xlvi. 
(ter)] . Her saying ends at line 70. His answer begins with 
the simile (U. 71-2), and ends with the application (11. 73-4). 
The virtaes of the fallen angels remain, bat tamed to ill, like 
as these [angels of minej , which should do good works for me 

198 • ELEGIES. 

(11. 13-16), by procnriug me food, &c.; bnt now, having passed 
into the hell of the goldsmith's fire, mnst as a bracelet nurse 
* thy' pride. 

Line 78. The angelic Hierarchy is divided into three ter- 
nions, and each temion into three classes or orders. Reckoning 
downwards there are: 1. Seraphim; 2. Cherubim; 3. Thrones 
(Throni) ; 4. Dominations ; 5. Principalities ; 6. Powers (Potes- 
tates) ; 7. Virtues (Virtutes) ; 8. Archangels ; 9. Angels. Hence, 
as in bis reference to pistolets, Donne humorously says, though 
made the lowest of the heavenly hierarchy, yet here they sur- 
pass Virtues, Powers, and Principalities. For the qualities and 
offices of the angelic orders, see Batman on Bartholomew (b. xi. 
CO. 6-18) ; and Heywood's Hierarchie of the Blessed Angels, 
book iv. &c. Note that in Holy Scripture, only one * Archangel' 

Line 96, * chained .*' so usually, and I prefer it to * chaung'd* 
of our MS. 

Line 105. Usually ' May all the evils that gold ever wrought :' 
< evils' here is, as usual, monosyllabic, and is perhaps the wider 
and stronger word. 

Line 109, * latest ;' usually ' late.' 
„ 110, *fowIe ;' usually * swoln.' * Swoln' is = sins which 
have gone on increasing in number and enormity, according 
to the saying that one ill leads to another and another, each 
greater than the last. 

Line 112, * restaratiue* = as a medicine. 'Gold . , . sove- 
raign it is for green wounds if it be outwardly applied ; and 
if young children weare it about them, lesse harme that they 
have by any sorceiy, witchcraft' (Pliny, N. H. by Holland). See 
also for much quaint lore, Batman on Bartho omew ; and for a 
grotesquely-serious account of the results of swallowing a pill 
of gold, Richard Baxter's * Life,' in his noble folio ' Reliquisa 
Baxterianffi,' «. r. 

ELRGIR8. 199 



Come, Fates ! I feare you not. All, whome I owe, 
Are paide but you. Then 'rest mee e're I goe. 
But Chance from yow all soueraignty hath gott, 
Loue woundeth none but those whome Death dares not : 
Else if you were, and just in equity, 5 

I should haue vanquish t her, as you did mee. 
Else louers should not braue Death's pains, and line : 
But 'tis a rule, Death comes not to relieue. 
For pale and wann Death's terrors, are they laide 
Soe deep in louers, they make Death affraide? 10 

Or, (the least comfort) haue I companny 1 
Orecame she Fates, Loue, Death, as well as mee t 

Yes, Fates doe silke unto her distaffe pay 
For ransome, which tax they on us do lay. 
Love giues her youth, which is the reason why 1 5 
Youths, for her sake, some wither and some dye. 
Poore Death can nothing giue ; yet for her sake, 
Still in her tume, he doth a Ipuer take. 
And if Death shoidd proue fals, she fears him nott. 
For our Muse, to redeeme her, she hath got. 20 

That last and fatal night wee kist, I thus praide, 
(Or rather thus despair'd, I should haue saidc.) 
Kisses, and yet dcspaire ! The forbidden tree 
Did promiss (and deceaue) no more then she. than 


Like lambs that see their teats, yet must eat hay, 25 
A food, whose tast hath made me pine away : 
Diues, when thou sawst bliss, and crauest to touch 
A drop of water, then thy great pains were such. 
Heere greif wants a fresh wit, for mine being spent, 
And my sighes weary, grones are all my rent ; 30 

Unable longer to endure the paine, 
They breake like thunder, and doe bring downe raine. 
Thus, till drye tears soder mine eyes* I weepe : solder 
And then I dreame, how you securly sleepe, 
And in your dreams doe laugh at me. I hate, 35 

And pray Loue, all may : He pittyes my estate, 
But sayes, I therin no reuenge shall find ; 
The sun would shine, though all the world were blind, 
Yet, to try my hate, Lous shew'd mek your tbare ; 
And I had dyde, had not your smile been there. 40 
Your froune undoes mee ; your smile is my wealth ; 
And as you pleas to looke, I haue my health. 
Methought Loue, pittying mee, when he saw this, 
Gaue me your hands, the backs and palmes, to kiss. 
Tliat cur'd me not, but to beare pain gaue strength ; 
And what it lost in force, it took in length. 46 

I call'd on Loue againe, who fear*d you soe. 
That his compassion still prou'd greater woe: 
For then I dream'd I was in bedd with you, 
But durst not feele, for fear *t should not proue tnie. 
This merritts not your angar, had it been ; 5 1 

The Queen of Chastity was naked seene: 

BLEGIE8. 201 

And in bed, not to feele, the paine I tooke, 

Was mncli more then for Actsdon not to looke. than 

And that breast, which lay ope, I did not knowe 55 

But for the clemes, from a lump of snowe : 

Kor that sweet teat which on the top it bore 

From the rose-bud which for my sake you wore. 

These griefs to issue forth, by verse I proue, 

Or tume their course by trauell or new loue. 60 

All would not do, the best at last I tryde, 

Unable longer to hold out I dyide. 

And then I found 1 lost life death by flying ; 

Where hundreds Hue, are but so long in dying. 

Charon did lett me pass ; I him reqmte 65 

To walke the groues or shade, wronging my delight: 

He speak out of those ghosts 1 found alone, 

Those thousand ghosts, wherof my self made one. 

All images of thee : I askt them whie ; 

The ludge told mee, they all for thee did dye, 70 

And therefore had for their Elizian bliss 

Another, their owne loues to kisse. 

here I myst, not blisse, but being dead 

(For loe I dreampt) I dreamt, and waking sed, 

Heauen if whoe are in thee ther must dwell, 75 

How is't I now was there, and now I fell ? 


Our text in ihiB inetanoe ii A!om Haslewood-Eingsboroagh 
MS. aa before, as this Elegy does not appear in the Stephens' 


202 bTjEgies. 

MS. Bnt we for the first time print 11. 57-76, deriving them 
from our British-Mnseam ms. This Elegy (as far as 1. 56) 
originally appeared in 1635 edition, and since in the after- 
editions. The heading is oars. 

Line 4, ' these ;' so nsually : our ics. ungrammatically reads 
' them.' 

Line 5, * Else :* so in '35, hnt usnally ' Tnie,' as in '69. The 
former is preferable, because stronger; the meaning being. 
Else if yon were [sovereigns] , sovereigns being taken ont of 
sovereignty in 1. 3. 

Line 9, * paU and trann.' Cf . Snckling's * Why so pale and 
wan, fond lover ?' 

Line 12, ' Orecame she ;' nsnally ' Or can the Fates love 
Death,' to the confusion of the sense : but 1 accept the usual 
order, * Fates, Lone, Death,' because they so appear in the other 
copies, hnd because they are so enumerated in the poem : Fates, 
1. 13 ; Love, 1. 15 ; Death, 1. 17. 

Line 14, * tax ;' so usnally, and I prefer it to * taske' of our 
MS. because they take our thread of life to add to her distaff 
for ransom for themselves. Our ms. also misreads * they lay,' 
from the c<lmmon error of inadvertently rewriting a word that 
has caught the eye and memory. Similarly * their' is mis- 
inserted before ' ransom' in 1. 14, and * true' before * reason' 
in 1. 15 ; which make the scansion irregular, as well as lessen 
the neatness of the wording, without adding to the strength. 
So too in 1. 24 our ms. by reading * Did not promise,' and eras- 
ing ' no,' turns the line into mere prose, and throws the words 
out of accent. 

Line 20, * Mtue ;' usually * Muses,' badly. 
„ fil. Usually * That fatal night we last kiss'd . . . thus 
praide,' i.e, as above from 1. 1. 

Line 25, * yet .-' usually * and,' badly. 
„ 28. Our MS. reads here ' A small little drop.' This 
shows it to have been a transcription from a ms. in which the 
author had been in doubt which epithet he would decide on, 
and had written both. So writing *A small little drop,' the 
epithet * great' was erased: but on revision it became clear 
that the size of the drop was wholly irrelevant, and therefore 
took away from his meaning, while * pains' expressed that in 
which he would say Dives and he were alike. Hence he struck 
out the epithet from * drop,' and added one (i.e, * great') to pains, 
as usually. 


liiiie 30, ' are all:* so nsuaUy: our mb. migreads ' all are.* 
„ 36, * all may :' b6 usnally : oar mb. * alway.* I accept 
the former = I hate and pray to Lore that all 'may,* bo that 
all others may hate her too. Not only is this stronf^er, hat it 
agreeB with Love's answer (1. 38), * The snn woald shine, thongh 
all the world were hlind* = She would he the same heaaty 
whatever might he the world's opinion of her. The mb. ' way* 
is not anlikely the error of w for m, of which we have noted 
another example in * wench* for ' month.* So in 1. 37, 1 accept 
the asnal * shall,' instead of ' shoald' of oar M8.=£ven if I 
grant it, that shall he no revenne to yon. 

Line 46. He heing weak throngh sight of the tear, wanted 
force to IdsB as he woold, hat made ap for this hy the duration 
of the kisB. 

Line 50. Of. Elegy ix. (l*he CompariBon), 1. 45, Doth not, 

„ 65. I have ventured to read * I* for * he him :' and 1. 
66 * walke' for * make' — the common clerical error of m for w, 
as hefore. So too in 1. 72 * Another* for * In other ;* the con- 
ceit heing that for or in recompense for. that Elizian hliss of 
dying for her [prohahly an Eliza], they were granted that 
other, viz. of having their own loves to kiss. 

Lines 73-6 are somewhat ohscure ; hut as a (too character- 
istic) equivoque underlies them, I am not careful to elucidate 
here. G. 


Since she must oob, and I must mourne, come Night, 

Enuiron me with darknes, whilst I write : 

Shadowe that hell unto mee, which alone 

I am to suffer, when my loue is gone. 

Alas, the darkest magick cannot doe itt, 5 

And thow great hell to boot are shadows to it. 

304 ELE01E8. 

Should Cinthia quit thee, Heauen, and each starre, 

It would not forme one thought darke as mine are ; 

I could lend them ohscurenes now, and say 

Out of myselfe, there should be no more day. lo 

Such is already my felt want of sight, 

Did not the fyer within me force a light. 

Loue, that fire and darknes should be mixt, 
Or to thy triumphs such strange torments fixt ! 

Is 't because thou thyselfe art blinde, that wee, 1 5 

Thy martirs, must noe more each other see ? 

Or tak'st thou pride to breake us on thy wheele, 

And view ould Chaos in the paine we feele 1 

Or haue we left undone some mjituall lite 

That thus with parting thou seek'st us to spight f 20 

No, no. The fault is mine, impute it to me, 

Or rather to conspiring Destenye ; 

Which, since I lou*d, in jeast before, decreed, 

That I should suffer, when I loved indeed, 

And therefore now sooner then I can say than 25 

1 saw the goulden fruite, its rapt away. 

Or as I had watcht one drop in a vast streame. 

And I left wealthy only in a dreame. 

Yet, Loue, thou'rt blinder then thyselfe in this, than 

To vex my doue-like freind for my amiss : 30 

And, where one sad truth may expiate 

lliy wrath, to make her fortune ruun my fate. 

Sue blinded Justice doth, when fauorites fall. 

Strike them, their house, their freinds, their fauorites all. 


Was't not enough that thou didst dart thy fyers 35 

Into our blood, inflaming our desires, 

And madest us sigh and blow, and pant, and bume, 

And tben thjselfe into our flames did'st turne 9 

Was't not enough, that thou did'st hazard us 

To paths in loue so darke and ruinous : . 40 

And those so ambushte round with househould spyes, 

And ouer all thy husband's two red eyes 

That flam'd with ugly sweat of jealousy ; 

Yett went wee nott still on with constancy 1 

Haue wee for this kept guards, like spy on spy 1 45 

Had correspondence, when the foe stood by 1 

Stoln (more to sweeten them) our manny blisses 

Of meetings, conference, imbracements, kisses ) • 

Shadow'd with negligence, our most respects f 

Varyed our language through all dialects 50 

Of becks, winks, lookes, and often under-boords 

Spoke dialougs with our feet farr from our woords 1 

Haue we prou'd all the secrets of our art. 

Yea, the pale inwards att thy panting hart 1 heart 

And after all this passed purgatorye 55 

Shall sad diuorce make us the vulgar story ? 

First let our eys be riueted quite through 

Our turning braines, and both our lips grow too : 

Let our arms clasp like iuys, and our feare ivy's 

Freez us together, that we may stick here ; 60 

Till Fortune, that would men us with the deed, 

Straine his eyes open, and yet make them bleed. 


For Loue it caxmott be, whom hithertoo 

I haue accus'd, should such a mischiefe doe. 

Oh Fortune, thou'rt not worth my least exclaime, 65 

And plague enough thou hast in thy own shame : 

Doe thy great worst, my frend, and I haue charmes 

(Though not against thy stroakes) against thy harmes. 

Eend us in sunder, thou can'st not deuide 

Our bodyes soe, but still our soules are tyde ; 70 

And we can loue by letters still, and guifts, 

And thoughts, and dreams : Loue neuer wanteth shifts. 

I will not looks upon the quickening sone, sun 

But streight her beauty to my sence shall runn ; 

The aire shall noate her soft, the fire most pure ; 75 

Waters suggest her elear, and the Earth sure ; 

Time shall not loose our passages ; the Spring 

Shall tell how fresh our love was in 'beginning ; 

The Summer, how it npned in the yeare ; 

And Autumn, what our goulden harvests were. 80 

The Winter He not thinke on to spight thee. 

But count it a lost season, soe shall shee. 

And, dearest frend, since wee must part, drown Night 

With hope of Day ; (burthens well bom are light.) 

The cold and darknes longer hang somewheere, 

Yett Phoebus equally lights all the spheare. 85 

And what he cant in like proportion pay, 

The world enjoyes in mass, and soe we may. 

Be then euer yourselfe, and let no woe 

Winn on your health, your youth, your beauty : soe 90 



Declare yonrselF t)aso Fortune's ennemy. 

No less be your contempt then constancy : tiun 

That I may grow enamored on your mind, 

When mine own thoughts I there neglected iinde. 

For this to th* comfort of my deare I vowe, 95 

My deeds shall stilbe what my deeds are now; 

The poles shall moue to reach me when I start, 

And when I change my Loue, Til change my hart ; heart 

Kay, if I but wax cold in my desire, 

Thinke, heauen hath motion lost, and the world fyer : 

Much more I would ; but many woords haue made i o i 

That ofb suspected, which men would perswade : 

Take therefore all in this ; I loue so true, 

As I will neuer look for less in you. 


Our text here Ib again from Haslewood-Kingsboroagh ms. as 
before : as neither does this Elegy appear in Stephens' m s. It 
originally appeared in 16d5 edition, and sinee in all after-edi- 
tions. 1669 has considerable additions in agreement with our m s. 
line 4, * lone :* '85 * soole.' 
„ 7, * Heauen:' '69 *yenns'=:the brightest star and 
leader of the host of heaven. 

line 11, 'feU ;' '69 * self-want.' 
„ 28, * in jea$t ;' onr ms. here is specially good : nsnally 

* for me before.' 

line 40, * ruinous ;' '69 * dangerous.' 
„ 42-3. 1669 * hosband's towring :' qnery, lowering 7 t. e. 
for * two red:' and for *That flam'd' reads *Inflam'd with th' 

line 49, * moat ;' '69 * best.' 
„ 66, * $hame ;' '69 ' name :' and' 1. 67 reads * armes' for 

* charmes.' 

208 £LE0IB8. 


Line 78. Usnfilly * How fregh . . . ihe . . .* and 1. 79 < nn- 

Line 87, * he* and * proportion :' '69 * we* and ' portion ;* an 
example of how onr coUatk>n of mbs. rewards all the toil. So 
1. 97 * reach* in '69 is ' teach :* and ' ere* for * when.' O. 


Harkis, newes, O Enuy, thou shalt bear discry'd 

My Julia ; who as yett was ne'er enuide. 

To Yomitt gaulle in slaunderss, swels her vaines 

With callomny, that hell itself dosdaines, 

Is her continuall practice, to doe her best, 5 

To teare oppinion enen out of the brest 

Of nearest frends, and (which is worse then vild) 

Stick jealousy in wedlock ; her own child 

'Scapes not the showers of enuy : To repeate 

The monstrous fashions how, were aliue to eate 10 

Dear reputation ; would to God she were 

But halfe so loath to act vice, as to heare 

My milde reproof : lined Mantuan now agen 

(That femall-Mastix) to lim out with his penn 

This shee Chimera, that hath eyes of fire, 1 5 

Burning with angar (angar feeds desire), 

Tongud like the night-crowe, whose ill-boading cryes 

Giue out for nothing but new iniuryes. 


Her breath like to the aire of TennaruSy 

That blasts the springs, though ne*re so prosperous. 20 

Her hand, I know not how, usd more to spill 

The food of others, then, herself to filL than 

But of her mind, that Orcus, which includes 

Legions of mischeif, counties multitudes 

Of former curses, proiects unmade up, 25 

Abuses yet un&shoned, thought corrupt. 

Misshapen cauels, palpable untroaths, 

Ineuitable errors, selfe-accusing oathes : 

Thes, like those attoms swarming in the sun, 

Throng in her bosome for creation. 30 

I blush to giue her half her dew ; yet say, due 

No poyson's halfe so bad as Julia. 


Again onr text is from Haalewood-EingBborongh ms., ag be- 
fore. This Elegy appeared originaUy in 1635 edition, and since 
in all after-editions. 

Line 8, * her:^ bo 1685. Onr us. * in.* 
„ 5, * to doe:' 1635 ' does.* 

„ a Here onr ms. mininserts * y* sheets of ;* and in line 
31 * only this I* for * yet say.* 

Line 13, * Mantuan.* 1 presnme the poet Baptista Spagnolns, 
* the good old Mantuan* of Holofemes in Lovers Labour Lost, 
so called from his birthplace. 

Line 19. * aire :* 1635 * jnice.* 

lb. *TennamB*=Teneriffe. 

Line 28, * oathes :* 1635 * loathes. * G. 





To make the doubt cleare, that no woman's true, 

Was it my fate to prove it stronge in you 1 

Thought I, but once had breathed purest ayre, 

And must she needs be false, because she*s faire ? 

Is it your beawtie's markes or of your yowth, 5 

Or your perfectyon not to study truth ? 

Or thinke you heaven is deafe 1 and hath no eyes ? 

Or those she hath smylo at your penuries I 

Are vowes so cheape with women, or the matter 

Whereof they ar made, that they 'are writ in water ? 

And blowne away with wynd 1 Or doth their breath 

(Both hott and cold) at once make life and death 1 

Who could have thought so many accents sweet 

Formd into words, so many sighs shold meet, 

As from our hart, soe many oaths, and teares 1 5 

Sprinkled amonge (all sweetned by our feares) 

And the devine impression of stolne kisses, 

That seald the rest, 6hold now prove empty blisses ? 

Did you draw bonds to forfeit? signe to break) 

Or must we read you quight from what you speak, 20 

And find the truth out the wronge way 1 or must 

He first desire you false, wold wish you just ? 

Oh, I prophane : though most of women bee 

This kynd of beast, my thoughts shall except thee. 

ELBGIE8. 211 

My deorost Lou'd ; though froward jealousie 25 

With circumstance might ui^ thy 'inconstancye, 

Sooner Tie think the sun "will cease to cheere 

The teeming earth, and that forget to beare : 

Sooner that rivers will run backe, or Thames 

With ribbs of ice in June will bynd her streams ; 30 

Or Nature, by whose strength the world endures, 

Wold change her course, before you alter yours. 

But oh ! that treacherous breast, to whom weak you 

Did trust our cownsels, (and we both may rue, 

Havinge his falshood fownd too late,) 'twas hee 35 

That made me cast you guilty, and you mee ; 

Whilst the black wretch betraid each symple word 

We spake, unto the cunninge. of a third ; 

Curst may he bee, that so our loue did stayne, 

And wander on the earth, as cursed as Caine, 40 

Wretched as he, and not deserue least pitty ; 

In plagueing him let Miserie be wytty. 

Let all eyes shun him, and he shun each eye. 

Till he be noysom as his infamie ; 

May he without remorse deny God thrice, 45 

And not be trusted more on his sowl's price ; 

And after all selfe-torment when he dyes, 

May wolues tear out his hart, vultures his eyes ; heart 

Swyne eat his bowels ; and his falser toungue 

That uttered all, be to some raven flunge ; 50 

And let his carion corse be a longer feast 

To the King's doggs, then any other beast. than 


Now I have cursed, let xis our loue revive ; 

In me the flame was never more alive ; 

I could begin againe to court and praise, 55 

And in that pleasure strengthen the short dayes 

Of my life's lease. Like painters that do take 

Not in made workes delight, but whilst they make, 

I cold renew those tymes, when first I sawe 

Love in your eyes, that gaue my toungue the lawe 60 

To like what you likt ; and at maskes and plaies 

Comend the selfe-same actors, the same waios ; 

Ask how you did, and often, with intent 

Of beinge officious, bee impertinent ; 

All which were such soft pastimes, as in these 65 

Love was as subtilie catcht as a disease ; 

But, beinge gott, it is a treasure sweet. 

Which to defend is harder then to get : 

And ought not to be prophande on eyther part ; 

For though 'tis got by chance, 'tis kept by art. 70 


Oar text is from Stephens' hs. , as before, where it is headed 
' Elegia Dooima qnarta.' This Elegy appeared originally in 
1633 edition, and since in all the after-editions. It is the 
more important to keep in mind that the dates 1633 and 1635 
inform ns that it had twice appeared daring Ben Jonson's life- 
time — ^for he did not die nntil 1637 ; a fact qoite sufficient to 
set aside its introduction into his potthumotu * Underwoods' — 
than which a more oncritlcal and illiterately-edited book it is 
scarcely possible to imagine. Besides, I haye not met with any 
edition of Donke not containing this Elegy, and in all the mb. 
collections — and they are yeiy nameroas — ^it is found ; while in 

ELB0IE8. 213 

no MS. is it ever asBigned to JonsoD, notwithstanding thftt there 
are many of his poems in such mb. collections. Internally the 
whole sentiment, oolonring, turns, and wording of the Elegy is 
Donne*s, and the antithesis of Jonson. Lieut. Cunningham in 
his edition of Ben Jonson (8 vols. 8to), while retaining this 
Elegy in the * Underwoods,* notes its resemblance to Donne, 
and suggests that probably other two of the Elegies belong to 
Donne. My answer is, that while the present Elegy is found in 
all the printed editions of Donne, and similarly in all the mbs., 
those other two never have been found assigned to Donne. 
Cunningham's idea of the present Elegy springing out of an- 
other Elegy, certainly Jonson's, is a mere fancy unsupported 
by eyidence external or internal. See more on this in our 

Line 3, * Thought :'so usually: our ms. miswiites * Thoughe.* 
„ 8, * smyle at your penuries .-' a saying quoted by Shake- 
speare : 

* at loTere' pezjories 
They tay Joye langbs.' 

Romeo and JnUet, II. 3. 

Usually it is * it,' not ' she,' the latter quaintly making heaven 

Line 10, ' writ in water,* Was the dying Keats thinking of 
this ? See our Essay on the place. 

Line 25, * lou'd'=otherB had been loved. Usually * love.' 
„ 83, * breast :* our us. * beast ;' but I prefer the former, 
because it impUes he was one to whose supposedly faithful 
* breast' she confided her secrets. 

Line 36, ' cast,* See former note. 
„ 89, ' stayne :' 1669 * so our loue hath slain :* and line 40 
usually ' wretched.' I adopt our us., although some may think 
' revive' of line 58, and line 55 ' I could begin againe,' agree 
better with * hath slain' in line 40. 

Line 49, * falser;* so usually: our us. inadvertently * false,* 





I siNG no hanne, good sooth, to any wight, 

To lord or foole, cuckold, beggar, or knight. 

To peace-teaching lawyer, proctor, or brave 

Reformed or reduced captaine, knave, 

Officer, jugler, or iustice of peace, 5 

luror or iudge ; I touch no fat sowe's grease ; 

I am no libeller, nor will be any, 

But (like a true man) say there are too many : 

I fear not ore tenu8, for my tale 

Nor count nor counsellour will looke red or pale. 10 

A citizen and his wife the other day, 
Both riding on one horse, upon the way 
I overtooke ; the wench a pretty peate, 
And (by her eye) well fitting for the feate ; 
I saw the lecherous citizen tume backe t 5 

His head, and on his wife^s lip steale a smacke, 
Whence apprehending that the man was kinde, 
Biding before to kisse his wife behinde ; 
To get acquaintance with him, I began 
To sort discourse fi.t for so fine a man ; 20 

I ask'd the number of the Plaguing Bill, 
Ask'd if the custome-farmers held out still ; 
Of the Virginian plot, and whether Ward 
The traffique of the Hand seas had marr'd ; 


Whether the Brittaine Bnrse did fill apace, 25 

And likely were to give th' Exchange disgrace ; 

Of new-built Algatc, and the Morefield crosses, 

Of store of bankerouts and poore merchants' losses, 

I urged him to speake ; but he (as mute 

As an old courtier wome to his last suite) 30 

Heplies with onelj yeas and nayes ; at last 

(To fit his element) my theame I cast 

On tradesmen's gaines ; that set his tongue agoing, 

Alas, good Sir (quoth he), there is no doing 

In court nor city now. She smil'd and I, 35 

And (in my conscience) both gave him the lie 

In one met thought. But he went on apace,' 

And at the present times with such a face 

He rail'd, as fray'd me ; for he gave no praise 

To any but my Lord of Essex dayes : 40 

Call'd those the age of action : true (quoth he) 

There's now as great an itch of bravery 

And heat of taking up, but cold lay-downe ; 

For put to push of pay, away they runne ; 

Our onely city trades of hope now are 45 

Bawds, tavern-keepers, whores, and scriveners ; 

The much of priviledg'd kinsmen, and the store 

Of fresh protections make the rest all poore : 

In the first state of their creation 

Though many stoutly stand, yet proves not one 50 

A righteous paymaster. Thus ranne he on 

In a continued rage : so void of reason 


Seem'd his harsh ialk, I sweai for feare qf treason. 

And (troth) how could I lesse 1 when in the prayer 

For the protection of the wise Lord Major, 55 

And his wise brethren's worships, when one prayeth, 

He swore that none could say amen with faith. 

To get him off from, what I glowed to heare, 

(In happy time) an angel did appeare, 

The bright signe of a lov'd and well-try'd inne, 60 

Where many citizens with their wives had been 

Well-us'd and often ; here I pray'd him stay, 

To take some due refreshment by the way ; 

Looke, how he look'd that hid the gold (his hope), 

And at retume found nothing but a rope ; 65 

So he at me ; refus'd and made away, 

Though willing she pleaded a weary day : 

I found my misse, struck hands, and prai'd him tell 

(To hold acquaintance still) where he did dwell ; 

He barely nam*d the street, promis'd the wine ; 70 

But his kinde wife gave me the very Sign^. 


This tale appeared originally in 1635 edition. Onr text^s 
that of 1639. 

Line 4, * Reformed Captain,* or Reformado. Said by ^ares 
to be an officer who for some disgrace had been deprived of his 
command, but not of his rank, nor perhaps of his pay. Some 
of the nses of the word, however, do not seem to agree with this, 
and I rather think it was eventually, if not originally, applied 
to any officers who had no present command, and who, awaiting 
vacancies or the like, were farmed into a company by them- 


seWeB. With UuB Bnllaker, Dyohe, and Kerahaw agree, though 
not Coles. 

Line 6, *Jat soweU greaae :* evidently a proverbial Baying, 
n 9, * ore tenut*r=hj word of month, a law term. 
„ 10, * looke ;* not in 1669. 
„ 20, •Tor'ieeg'And.' 

„ 21, * Plaguing:* 1669 * Plaguy' =BiU of MortaUtyfor 
the Plagae. 

Lines 22-8 : these are date-marks if we oonld get at them. 
„ 23, ' Ward,* There was printed in 1612 a play by B,\ 
Dabome, ' A Christian tnm'd Turk, or the tragical Lives and 
Deaths of the two famous Pirates, Ward and Dansiker ;* and 
Halliwell says it ia taken from an account of the overthrow of 
these two pirates by Andrew Barker (1609, 4to). This gives the 
(probable) date of this tale. The Hand seas are those around 
the West Indian and other islands. The liidland seas (as in 
1669) were probably the Golf of Mexico and Caribbean Seas. 
Line 25, 'Brittaine Burse :*= (now) British. 
„ 84. This nnseemly equivoque is frequent in the writers 
of that day. 

Line 41, ' quoth he :* a notable correction in 1669 of the 
' Quoth r of 1685, 1689, Ac. 

Line 47, * kirwnen :* 1669 ' kingsmen.* 
„ 57, *iay amen:^ because neither Mi^or nor Brethren 
were wise. 

Line 58, * him q/f;* ue, to get from him, [and] from what I 
glowed to hear. 

Line 62, * WeU-us^d and o/ten,' may refer to the inn ; but it 

is simpler to take these words as referring to citizens and wives. 

Line 65, ' rope :* an old story found in many forms, of a man 

who saw another hide some stolen money in a hole in a bam, 

and took it, and replaced it by a rope. 

Line 68, ' miste*=I found my failure. This is no equivoque, 
a»' miBS* in that tense was not used till later. See our Mar- 

VSLL, 8,V, 

line 71, * Signe^* ue. of their shop. G. 


218 elegIes. 


Whoever loves; if he doth not propose 
The rijjht true end of loue, hee *8 one that goes 
To sea foi: nothinge but to make him sicke : 
Love is a beare-whelpe borne, if we ore-licke 
Our loue, and force it newe strange shapes to take, 5 
We erre, and of a lump a monster make. 
Were not a calf a monster, that were grown 
Faced like a man, though better than his own ? 
Perfection is in vnity : preferr 

One woman first, and then one thing in her. 10 

I, when I valew gold, may thinke uponn 
The ductilness, the applicatyon. 
The wholsomenes, the ingenuetye, 
From rust, from soile, from fire for ever free : 
But if I loue it, 'tis because 'tis made 1 5 

(By our new nature) use, the sowl of trade. 
All this in woman we might think upon 
(If women had them), and yet loue but one. 
Can men more iniure women then to say than 

They love them for that, by which they're not they? 20 
Makes virtue woman ? must I coole my blood 
Till I both be, and fynd one, wise and good? 
Let barren angels loue soe, but if wee 
Make love to woman, virtue is not shee. 


As bewtie's not, nor wealth ; he that strais thus, 25 

From her to her^s, Is more adult^ous 

Then if he tooke her mayd. Serch every sphere than 

And firmament, our Cupid is not there : 

He's an.infemall god, and undergrownd, 

With Pluto dwells, where gold and fyre aboiind; 30 

Men to such gods their sacri&dng coles 

Did not on altars lay, but in pytts and holes : 

Although we see cselestiall bodyes move 

Above the earth, the earth we tyU and loue : 

So we her aires contemplate, words, and hart, heart 35 

And virtues ; but we love the centrique part. 

Nor is the sowle more worthy, or more fytt 
For love, then this, as infinyte as it. than 

But in attayning this desired place 
How much they err, that set out at the face ! 40 

The hayre a forrest is of ambushes. 
Of springges, snares, fetters, and manacles : 
The browe becalms us, when 'tis smooth and plaine ; 
And when 'tis wrinkled, shipwracks us againe. 
Smooth, 'tis a paradice, where we wold haue 45 

Immortal stay ; but wrinkled, 'tis our grave. 
The nose (like to the first meridian) runns 
Not betwixt east and west, but 'twixt two sunns ; 
It leaves a cheeke, a rosie hemispheare 
On eyther syde, and then directs us where 50 

Upon the islands Fortunate wee fall, 
Not faint Canaries, but ambrosiall 

220 BLBGIE8. 

And swelling lipps to which when we are come, 

We anchor there, and ihinke ourselvee at home. 

For they seeme all: there syrens' songes, and there 55 

Wise Delphique oracles, doe fill the eare ; 

There in a creeke, where chosen pearls do swell, 

The Remora, her cleaying toungue, doth dwelL 

These and the glorious promontory, her chynn, 

Being past, the straits of Helespont, hetween 60 

The Sestos and Ahidos of her hrests, 

(Not of two lovers, but two loves, the nests) 

Succeeds a howndless sea, but yet thyne eye 

Some island moles may scattred there discry, 

And sayling towards her India, in the way 65 

Shall at her faire Atlantique navill stay, 

Though thence the current be thy pylot made, 

Yet ere thou be where thou would'st be embaide, 

Thou shalt vpon another forrest sett, 

Where many shipwrack and no further gett. 70 

When thou art there, consider thou thy chace 

Maskt longer by beginninge at the face. 

Bather sett out belowe ; practiie my art ; 
Some simmetrie the foot hath with that part, 
Which thou dost seek, and is as mapp for that ; 7 5 
Lovely enough to stopp, but not stay att : 
Least subject to disguise and change it is j 
Men say the Devil never can change his. 
It is the embleme, that hath figured 
Firmnes ; 'tis the first part that comes to bedd. 80 

' ■■ • ^-^^^■F^""^»^^»"«^»-^»^^»*"-"-:^p?-i^B^^W*«^E"— ^^^^^■■^^^™^»'. LU i ^ *».- 

SLBans. 221 

Givilitie we see refyned : the kisse 

(Which at the face begun) tranaplanted is, 

Since to the hand, since to the impexiall knee, 

Now at the Papall f oote delights to bee : 

If kings thinke that the nearer way, and doe 85 

Kise from the foot, lowers may doe so too. 

For as free sphaeres move faster farr then can Uian 

Byrds, whom the ayre resists ; so may that man, 

Which goes this emptie and ethireall way. 

Then if at bewtie's enemies he stay. than 90 

Rich Nature hath in woman wisely made 

Two purses, and their mowths aversly laid : 

Then they, which to the lower tribute owe, 

That way, which that exchequer looks, must goe : 

He who doth not, his error is as great, 95 

As who by clyster gives the stomack meate. 


Oar text is from Stephens* mb., as before, where tUs Elegy 
is numbered *Elegia Nona,*. and headed, as we have done, 
* LoTe*8 Progresse,* and so too in ms. 4955, as before. It ap- 
peared originally in 1669 edition (pp. 94-97), bat reiy incor- 
rectly, as a collation will show. We have silently pat right 
from oar ms. and other ¥B8. 

Line 4, ' ore-Ueke :' a reference to the belief that animals 
licked their young into shape, whence the phrase *Uok into 

Line 12, ' tiie :* onr us. misreads * of.* 
„ 18, * ihgenuetye :' Latinate, free-bom or noble descent, 

Line 16. The reference is to the prarerb, ' use is second 


nature,* and I accept the nsual text rather than * By use of our 
new natnre,' as in onr mb. 

Line 20. Our ms. inserts badly * That* before ' they,* and 
reads ' they are* for * they're :* I accept the nsnal printed text. 
So in line 21 onr ms. misreads ' Make.* 

Line 22, *be:^ so usually. Our ms. misreads * see' = Must 
I eool my blood both till I 'be* wise and good, and till I find a 
woman equally so ? 

Line 25. Our ms. reads badly ' As bewtie nor wealth is.* 
„ 27, ' if he tooke :* our ms. misreads * then he that tooke.* 
There is no woman spoken of in particular, but only ' woman* 
generically. I therefore accept the nsual printed text, * if he 
tooke,* as it agrees with this, while ' he that tooke* makes a re- 
ference to one that has not been referred to. 

Line 42, * tprindges,^ &e. Cf . Mabvxll, $.v, 
„ 60. The construction here is elliptical, or requires a 
double use of the verb : ' These and . . . her chin being past, 
and the straits being passed.* There is a similar phrase (lines 
8-4) in the ' Funeral Elegy* commencing * Language, thou art 
too narrow* (hitherto erroneously included in this Series). ' If 
we could sigh out our accents, and weep words, grief wears and 
lessens [grief wears and lessens] that affords breath [to] tears.* 
See also note on next Elegy, line 40. Cf. too Elegy on Julia, 
line 5, where ' Is her continual practice* has to do double duty. 

Lines 71-2. 1669 reads * what this chase Misspent, by thy.* 
„ 88, * whom :* so usually. Our mb. reads ' when ;* ' when* 
giyes the first sense, ' free spheres move faster when the air 
resists than birds :* ' whom* frees the sentence from that absurd- 
sounding ambiguity. 

One mourns that eyer Donne wrote in this vein of Carew at 
hie worst. O. 



Comb, Madam, come, all rest my powres defie, 

Untill I labour, I in labour lye. 

The foe ofttymes, havinge the foe in sight. 

Is tir'd with standinge, though he never fight. 

Off with that gyrdle, like heavn's zone glysteringe, 5 

But a farr fayrer world incompassinge. 

Unpin that spangled brestplate, which you weare, 

That the 'eyes of busy fools might be stopt there ; 

Unlace yourselfe, for that (your woman's chyme) 

Tells me from you, that now 'tis your bedtime. 10 

Off with that happy busk, which I envye, 

That still can bee, and still can stand so nigh. 

Your gowne goeing off such bewteous state reveales. 

As when from flowry meads th' hill's shadowe steals. 

Off with yoUr wirie coronett, and showe 1 5 

The haiiye diadems which on you doe growe : 

Off with your hose and shooes, then safely tread 

In this Love's hallo w'd temple, this soft bedd. 

In such white robes heaven's angels use to bee 

Perceiv'd by men ; thou angell bring'st with thee 20 

A heaven-like Mahomet's paradice ; and though 

111 spirits walke in whyte, we easily know 

By this, these angels from an evill sprite ; 

Those sett our hayre, but these our flesh upright. 


224 BLBGIEa. 

License my roaving hands, and let them goe 25 
Behynd, before, betweene, above, belowe. 
Oh my America ! my Newfoundland ! 
My kingdom, safest when with one man man*d. 
My myne of precious stones ! my emperie ! 
How blest am I, in thus discovering^ thee ! 30 

To enter in those bonds is to be free ; 
That where my hand is sett my seale shalbee. 

Full nakednes ! all joyes are due to thee ; 
As fowles unbodyed boydes uncloth'd must bee. 
To tast whole joyes. Grems, which you women use. 
Are, as Atlanta's balls, cast in men's viewes ; 36 

That when a foole's eye lighteth on a gemm. 
His earthly sowle might covrt those, not them : 
Like pictures or like books' gay coverings made 
For lay-men, are all women thus anraida 40 

Themselves are only mistique books, which wee 
(Whome their imputed grace will dignifie) 
Must see revail'd. Then since that I may know. 
As liberally as to a midwife showe 
Thyselfe ; cast all, yea y* white lynen hence ; 45 

There is no penance due to inocence. 
To teach thee, I'le be naked first ; why, than 
What needs thou haue more covering then a man ) than 


Our text Ib from Stephens* ms., as before, where it is nnin- 
bered ' Elegift Decima ootara.* This Elegy, the most sensiial 

eLeoibs. 225 

ever written by Englisli p<^t of the geniufl of Donne, originally 
appeared in 1669 edition (pp. 97-9). 

Line 7, ' spangled brestplate,* Those who have seen the 
Corfeot women in their gala dreBses, Venetian fashions of two 
or three hundred years ago, will recognise the ' spangled' and 
sometimes * gold' plate, breast-plate, or stomacher of the text. 

Line 12. The first ' still* = quiet; the seoond=yet or con- 

Line 18, ' bewteous :^ so usually : our ks. reads ' beautie's 
state,' not so good. 

line 15, 'wirie coronett:* on which the hair and added hair, 
and head-gear were built up. 

Line 40, * lay-men:* in the sense of ignorant laics, not ad- 
mitted into the .inner precincts. * For laymen' is to be used 
with both the preceding and following clause ; a kind of ellipse 
already noted in Donne. G. 



The heavens rejoice in motion ; why should I 

Abjure my so beloued varyety, 

And not with many, youth and loue deuide 1 

Pleasure is none, if not diversifide. 

The sun, that sitting in the chaire of light, 5 

Sheds flame into what else soever seemes bright, 

Is not contented att one Sign to inn. 

But ends his yeare, and att a new begins. 

All things doe willingly in chang delight^ 

The fruitfull mother of our appetite : 10 




Eiuers the clerer and more pleasing are, [clear ; 

Wheere their faire- spreading streams run "wide and 

And a dead lake, that no strange barque doth greete, 

Corrupts itself and what doth liue in itt. 

Let no man tell me such a one is faire 15 

And worthy all alone my loue to jsheire. share 

Nature hath done in her the liberall part 

Of a kind mistress, and emploide her art 

To make her loueable ; and I auerr 

Him not humane, that would return from her ; 20 

I loue her well ; and could, if need weer, 4ye were 

To doe her seruice. But followes itt that I . 

Must seme her only, when I may haue choice 1 

The lawe is hard, and shall not haue my voice. 

The last I saw in all extreames is faire, 25 

And houlds me in the sunnbeams of her haire ; 

Her nymphlike features such agreements haue, 

That I could venture with her to the graue : 

Another's broune, I like her not the worse ; 

Her toungue is soft, and takes me with discourse ; 30 

Others, for that they well descended are, 

Doe in my loue obteine as larg a share ; 

And though they be not faire, 'tis much with me 

To winn their loue only for their degree ; 

And though I faile of my requirM ends, 35 

The attempt is glorious, and ittself comends. 

How happy weer our sires in ancient time, were 

Who held plurality of loues no crime I 


With them it was accounted charrety 

To stirr up race of all -indifferently ; 40 

Kindred were not exempted from the bands. 

Which with the Persians still in usage stands. 

Women were then no sooner askt then won ; than 

And what they did was honest, and well done. 

But since this title honnour hath been used, 45 

Ower weake credulety hath been abusde ; 

The goulden lawes of nature are repeald, 

Which our first fathers, in such reuereuce held ; 

Our libertye's reverst, and chartar's gone. 

And we made servants to Opinion ; 50 

A monster in no certeine shape attird, 

And whose originall is much desired ; 

Formless at first, butt growing on, itt fashions, 

And doth prescribe manners and laws to nations. 

Here Loue received immedicinable harmes, 55 

And was despoHM of his daring armee ; 

A greater want then is his dareing eyes, 

Ue lost those awfull wings with which he flyes ; 

His sinewy bow, and those imortal darts. 

Wherewith hee*s wont to bruise resisting harts, beam 

Only some few, strong in themselues, and free, 61 

Eetaine the seeds of ancient liberty ; 

Following that part of loue, although deprest, 

And make a throne for him within their brest ; 

In spite of modem censures, him avouing 65 

Their soveraigne, all seniice him allowing. 



Amongst which troope, although I am the least. 

Yet equall in affections with the .best, 

I glory in subjection of his hand, 

Nor neuer did decline his least comaund ; 70 

For in whateuer form the message came, 

My heart did open, and receaue the flame. 

But time will in its course a point descrye, 

When I this loved seniice must denye ; 

For our allegience temporary is ; 75 

With firmer age returne ower libertyes. 

What time, in grauer judgement, wee repos'd. 

Shall not soe easily be to change dispos^ ; 

Nor to the art of several eyes obeying, 

But beauty with true worth soe rarely weying ; 80 

Which being found assembled in some one, 

Wee'U loue her euer, and lone her alone. 


Our text is Haslewood-Eingsboroagh h8., as before. This 
Elegy appeared originally in 1669 edition (pp. 411-414). 
Line 2, * belouedr 1669 ' mnch loY*d.* 
„ 8. 1669 l>adly reads * many youth and loY*d.' 
„ 6. UBoally * Boeyer*=8oe'er, which accordingly I have 
ventured to give ; bnt even thns there is a syllable which will 
not come into scansion, and * soe'er doth seem bright' is un- 
metrioal prose. From other instances it is plain Donne did not 
always at once detect that he had written an Alexandrine in- 
stead of an ordinary flve-foot verse. I correct by reading ' seemes' 
for * doth seem.' 

Line 7, * inn,* See onr Phinbas and Giles Flbtchsb, i,v. 
„ 8, * att;' 1669 • with.' 
„ 12, * clear:* onr MS. * faire :' I accept 1669. 


Line 16, * sheire* = (as in murgin) share < 6o nsnally, but 
onr MS. reads ' to inheire.* 

Line 86. See onr Essay on this line and Addison. 
„ 45»*title:' 1669 'tittle/ badly. 
„ 50, * Opinion :\ BO 1669: onr MS. badly 'Oppression;' 
and so line 52 ' desired* is in ms. * admird.* 

Line 55, ' immedicinahU :* 1669 ' immedicable. * 
„ 77. 1669 reads ' in years and jndgement.* 
„ 82, ' lone :* 1669 badly * leane.' a. 



KoT kisse ! by Jouve I must, and make impression 1 
As longe as Cupid dares to hould bis scessyoun session 
Within my flesh and bloo|}, our kisses shall 
Out-minyte tyme, and without number fall. 
Doe I not know these baUs of blushinge redd 5 

That on thy cheeks thus amorously are spieadf 
Thy snowie necke, those yaines vpon thy brow^ 
Which with their azure twinklinge sweetly bowe, 
Are artificially borrowed, and no more thyne owne 
Then chaynes which on St George's day are showue 
Are propper to their wearers ; yet for this' 1 1 

I idole thee, and begge a luschyous kisse. 
The fucus and ceruse, which on thy face 
Thy cuninge hand layes on to add new grace, 
Deceive me with such pleasinge fraud, that I 15 

Fynd in thy art, what can in Nature lye. 


Much like a pajrnter that vpon some wall 
On which the cadent siin-beames vse to fall 


Paynts with such art a guylded batterflie 

That sDlie maids with slowe-mov'd fingers trie 20 

To catch it, and then blush at their mistake, 

Yet of this painted flie most reckoninge make : 

Such is our state, since what we looke vpon 

Is nought but colour and proportionn. 

Take we a face as full of ftawde and lyes 25 

As gipsies in your common lottereyes, 

That is more false and more sophisticate 

Then are saints' reliques, or a man of state ; 

Yet such beinge glosM by the sleight of arte 

Gaine admiration, wininge many a hart. 30 

Put case there be a difference i^i the mold, 

Yet may thy Venus be more choice, and hold 

A dearer treasure. Oftentimes we see 

Eich Candyan wynes in wooden bowles to bee; 

The odoriferous civett doth not lye 35 

Within the pretious muscatt's eare or eye, 

But in a baser place ; for prudent Nature 

In drawinge us of various formes and feature. 

Gives from y* envious-shqpp of her large treasure 

To faire partes comlynesse, to baser pleasure. 40 

The fairest flowres that in y* Springe do grow 

Are not soe much for Vse, as for the showe ; 

As lyllies, hyacinths, and your goigious byrth 

Of all pied-flowers, which dyaper the Earth, 


ELI^^IES. 231 

Please more with thdr disooulered puiple traine 45 

Then holsome pot-hearbs which for vse remayne. 

Shall I a gawdie-speckled serpent kisse 

For that the colours which he wears be his t 

A perfum'd cordeyant who will not weare 

Because 7* sent is borrowed otherwhere ? 50 

The robes and vestments which do grace ys all 

Are not our owne, but adventitialL 

Tyme rifles Nature's bewtie, but slie Art 

Eepaires by cuninge this decayinge part ; 

Fills here a wrinckle and there purls a yayne, 55 

And with a nymble hand runs ore againe 

The breaches dented in by th' anne of Tyme, 

And makes deformitie to be noe cryme ; 

As when great men be grypt by sicknes' hand 

Industrious phisick pregnantly doth stand 60 

To patch vp fowle diseases, and doth strive 

To keepe their totteringe carcasses alive. 

Bewtie's a candle-light, which euery pufife 

Blowes out, and leaves naught but a stinking snuff 

To fill our nostrills with. This boldly thinke, 65 

The clearest candle makes y* greatest stinke ; 

As your pure food and cleanest nutriment 

Getts the most hott and most strong excrement. 

Why hang we then on things so apt to vaiye. 

So fleetinge, brittle, and so temporarie, 70 

That agues, coughs, the tooth-ake, or catharr 

(Slight bowses of diseases) spoyle and marr? 

222 ELBGI«S. 

But when old age their bewty hath in chace, 

And p^oughes ypp furrowes in their once smooth face, 

Then they become forsaken, and doe shewe 75 

like stately abbies ruyn'd longe agoe. 

Nature but gives the modell and first draught 

Of fiedre perfection, which by Art is taught 

To make itselfe a compleat forme and birth 

Soe, stands a coppie to these shapes on £arth. 80 

Jove grant me then a repairable face, 

Which whil'st that coulors are, can want noe grace ; 

Pigmalion*s painted statue I wold loue, 

Soe it were warme or soft, or could but move. 


This Elegy web first printed by Sir John Simeon in his 
tractate of Donne poems from hbs. for the Phllobiblon So- 
ciety (on which see onr Preface) ; but as throqghont Sir John 
modernised the orthography, I take our text in preference from 
the Stephena' hs. as before. In the Simeon copy the heading 
is simply * To a Painted Lady.* These variations, taken from 
Simeon^B copy, may be recorded (orthographical not noted) : 
Line 1, * wUl.' 

„ 8, * Within :* our hs. < vpon :* the former accepted. 

„ 5, ' Do not I . . . white and red.' 

„ 8, * wrinkles.* 

„ 9, * borrowed* dropped. 

„ 10, ' showne :* onr mb. ' wome :* the former accepted. 

„ 11, 'the.* 

„ 18, * fncBB and the cemBe on :* * fncna,* Latin, counter- 
feit painting, deceit : nsed in those days as the name for the 
preparations employed in colouring the skin. 
Line 14, ' more.* 

„ 15-16. First printed by us. 

„ 19, ' Buch gilded art a.* 


Line 21, *iV and ' then' droppecL 
„ 22, * more/ 
„ 23, * Sach :' onr ms. miswrites * Sure,* and ' estate' for 

* state,' and * that' for * what ;' * what' being preferable, as mak- 
ing what it is a general reflection, there being probably an 
allnsion to the philosophic idea of the day that we see the acci- 
dents, colours, and proportion^ bnt not the true mbstantia of 

Line 25, * Make.' 
„ 26, ' their cnnning'st flatteries.' I do not remember 
any other allusion to this cnstom (except as below), nor do I 
know whether the gipsies were real or ' stage' gipsies ; 

* He's a sourvy Infomier ; has more ooscnago 
In him than is in flve tmvdling lotteries.' 

Middleton, Anything for a Quiefc Life, act i. 

Line 29, * thus.' 

„ 81-34 first printed by us. 

„ , 37, ' baser,' wrongly ; and so in line 38, * use' for * us.' 

„ 39, * Gives unto them the shop,' which is nonsense. 

„ 43, * the.' 

„ 47-8 in Simeon copy follow our lines 49-50, but run 


' A gandy speckled serpent who would kiss 
BecaoM the colours that he wears arc his ?* 

Line 51, * do' I insert from Simeon copy. 
„ 53, ' rifles :' our ms. badly ' rifled ;' but I retain 'bew- 
tie' for * bountie.* 
Line 54, ' decayed.' 
„ 55, ' here :' I accept this for * there,' but not ' pearls' 
for * purls:' purls = makes a vein ripple or run wavingly. Cf. 

* winding meanders,' £1. xzy. line 24. 

Line 58, * Making.' 

„ 61, • old.' 

„ 64, Simeon reads badly ' stuff.' See our note on * snuff' 
in Satire ii. line 6. 

Line 67, * pure :' spelled oddly * poare.' 

„ 74, * wrinkles.' I accept * once' for ' owne' of our us. 

» 77, 'or.' 

„ 78, * wrought.' 

„ 79. Our MS. * Speak to y* solfe . . . breath.' I accept 
the Simeon copy. 

Line 81, * you' for ' then.' 



line 82, * are' dropped in h8. from the common eanse of 
error, alliteratiye letters and similar syllables : ' oolourt are,^ 
Line 88, ' image . . . could.* 
„ 84, ' and soft and ;' * conld* is spelled ' cold.* 
„ 49, ' cordevant* is Spanish leather, so named from Cor- 
dova, once famous for its manufacture. O. 



Till I have peace with thee, warr other men ; 

And when I haue peace, can I leave thee then ? 


All other warrs are scrupelous, only thou 

A faire free cyttie, maist thy selfe allowe 

To any one. In Flanders, who can tell 5 

Whether the master 'press, or men i*ebell ? oppress 

Onely we knowe, that which all ideots say. 

They beare most blowes that come to part the fray. 

France in her lunatique giddines did hate 

Even our men, yea and our God of late ; 10 

Yet she relies vpon our angells well, 

Which n'ere retume no more then they that fell. 

Sicke Ireland is with a strange warr possesst, 

Like to an ague, now raging, now at rest. 

Which tyme will cure : yet 'it must doe her good 15 

If she were purg'd, and her head-vaine let blood. 

And Midas joyes, our Spanish jorneys give. 

We touche all gold, but fyiid no food to live. 



And T shold be in the hot parchinge clyme 

To dust and ashes tumd before my tyme. 20 

To mewe mo in a shipp is to inthrall 

Me in a prisonn, that were like to fall ; 

Or in a cloister, save that there men dwell 

In a calme Heav'n, here in a swayring HelL 

Long voiages are long consumptions, 25 

And shipps are carts for executyons ; 

Yea, they are deaths : It is all one to flye 

Into another world, as 'tis to die. 

Heere let me warre, in these arms let me lye; 

Here let me parley : better bleed then dye. 30 

Thyne arms imprison mee, and myn arms thee ; 

Thy hart thy ransom is, take myne for mee. 

Other men warr, that thay their rest may gaine, 

But we will rest that we may fight againe. 

Those warrs th' ignorant, these the experienct love; 35 

There we are alwais vnder, heere aboue ; 

There engines farr of[f ] breed a iust true feare ; 

Keere thrusts, pickes, stabbs, yea bullets, hurt not heere. 

There lyes are wronges, here safe vprightly lye ; 

There men kill men, weele make one by and by. 40 

Thou nothinge, I not halfe soe much to doe 

In these warrs, as they may which from vs two 

Shall springe. Thowsands we see which travail not 

To warr, but stay, swords, arms, and shott 

To make at home ; and shall not I do then 45 

More gloriovs service, staying to make men ? 



ThiB Elegy was first printed by Waldron (on whom see €mr 
Essay), and, ignorant thereof, by Sir John Simeon, as before ; 
bat again, and for the same reasons, I follow the Stephens* m s., 
where it is headed simply * Elegia Dedma qointa.* These 
variations from our ms. are noteworthy : 

Line 1. Characteristioally Donne writes in onr hs. ' I warr 
with,* oblivions of scansion, &c. ' Warr other men*=let other 
men warr — second and greatly-improved thought. So in like 
manner * The present wars devour him* (Coriol. i. 1) ; a phrase 
surprisingly puzzling to some, even after Warburton had pointed 
out its true meaning. 

Line 6, * *pres8* = oppress (as in margin). Our ms. reads 
* master-peers.* 

Line 8, ' who,* and line 12, ' which.* The allusion is to the 
assistance at various times given to the Provinces in their War 
of Independence. 

Lines 10-11. Perhaps referring to the force which was sent 
to the assistance of Henry of Navarre under Essex in 1691. 
The Queen, who had given him and the Dutch money and other 
secret assistance before, then sent him 20,000{. in gold. 

Line 18, ' straying ;* and line 15, * must* for ' will.* 
„ 16, ' dead-vaine.* 

„ 18. I accept * touche* for the first * f^nd.' 
„ 24, * swaggering.' 
„ 27, * is't not.* 

„ 80, 'batter, bleed, and.* The explanation of such a 
phrase can be found in Sir Thomas Browne*s Psendod. b. iii. 
c. ix. ; and the computation has been usefully — for their pur- 
pose — employed by quacks in the present day. 

Line 82. I accept * for* instead of 'from* of onr ms. ; and * thy* 
for * the ransom,* as the context demands. 

Line 85. Our ms. ' unexperienct.' 

87. Our MS. ' their:* Simeon 'these :* accepted. 
41, ' shall do.* 

Waldron has this footnote : " ' Than they which fell* (line 
14). The MS. from which this and the following Elegy were 
printed reads, ' then they,* &c., the common orthography of the 
time. It is dated 1625. For the sake of perspicuity, some other 
trifling variations have been made — as bear for bare, vein for 



vame — ftnd » few eommas inflerted. The distinotion between 
angels, coin BO-caUed, and the Fallen Angels scarcely needs 
being pointed oat." All the references go to show that this 
Elegy was written in the reign of Elizabeth. O. 


Shall Love, that gave Latona's heire the foile, ApoUo 

(Proud of his archerie and Pethon's spoile,) Pythons 

And 80 enthral'd him to a nimph's disdaine 

As, 'when his hopes were dead, hee, full of paine. 

Made him above all trees the lawrell grace, 5 

An embleme of Loue's glory, his disgrace ; 

Shall he, I say, be termed a foot-boy now 

Which made all powers in Heauen and Earth to bowe ? 

Or is't a fancy which themselves doe £rame, 

And therefore dare baptize by any name 1 10 

A flaming straw 1 which one sparke kindles bright, 

And first hard breath out of itselfe doth fright ; 

Whose father was a smile, and death a frowne, 

Soon proud of little and for lesse cast downe? 

Tis so I and this a lackie terme you may, lackey 15 

For it runs oft, and makes but shortest stay. 

But thou, Love ! free from Time's eating rust, 

That sett'st a limite unto boundles lust. 

Making desire grow infinitely stronge. 

And yett to one chast subiect still belong ; 20 

238 ELB0IE8. 

Bridling self-love, that flatters ns in ease, 

Quick'ning our witts to striue that they may please ; 

Fixing the wandering thoughts of straying youth, 

The firmest bond of Faith, the knott of Truth : 

Thou that did*st never lodge in worthies hart, heart 25 

Thou art a master, whersoe're thou art. 

Thou mak'st food loathsome, sleep to be unrest. 

Lost labor easeful, scomefuU lookes a feast ; 

And when thou wilt, thy ioyes as farr excell joys 

All elce as, when thou punish'st, thy Hell. else 30 

Oh make that rebell feele thy matchles power. 

Thou that mad'st Jove a bull, a swan, a showre. 

Give him a love as tirannous as faire, 

That his desire goe yoaked with despaire ; 

Live in her eyes, but in her frozen heart 35 

Lett no thaw come that may have sence of smart. 

I^tt her a constant silence never breake, 

Till he doe wish repulse to heare her speake ; 

And last, such sence of error lett him haue 

As he may never dare for mercy crave. 40 

Then none will more capittulate with thee, 

But of their harts will yield the empire free. hearts 


First printed by Sir John Simeon, fts before ; but through 
a friend who collated this and others in our Vol. II. at Sir 
John's sale, I have been enabled to give the original 01-tho- 
graphy. I regret that there was no time to do the same for 


Nob. zxiV. and xxr. that follow, which I am obliged to give as 
in the Simeon tractate. 

Who the rebel was that represented Love as a post-boy, and 
so gave rise to the present poem, it is probably impossible now 
to discover. Ben Jonsou in his Cynthia's Revels (1600) intro- 
dnoes Gnpid as a gamesome boy-deity, who disguises himself 
as a page or foot-boy in the Court of Cynthia, and is foiled in 
his attempts, in part through ^hose who may be likened to 
'themselves* of line 9, ico. having drunk of the fountain of 
'self-love* (line 21). Line 11, ' proud* = when proud; line 30, 
* thy Hell* [excels all other Hells]. G. 


Base Love, the stain of youth, the scorn of age, 

The folly of a man, a woman's lage ; 

The canker of a firoward will thou art. 

The husineas of an idle, empty heart ; 

The rack of Jealousy and sad Mistrust, 5 

The smooth and justified excuse of lust ; 

The thief which wastes the taper of our life ; 

The quiet name of restless jars and strife ; 

The fly which dost corrupt and qidte distaste 

All happiness if thou therein he cast ; i o 

The greatest and the most concealed impostor 

That ever vain credulity did foster ; 

A mountebank extolling trifles small, 

A juggler playing loose, not fast with all ; 

An alchymist, whose promises are gold, . 15 

Payment but dross, and hope at highest sold. 


This, this is Love, and worse than I can say 

When he a master is, and bears the sway. 

He guides like Phaeton, bums and destroys, 

Parches and stifles what would else be joys. 20 

But when olear Eeason, sitting in the throne, 

Governs his beams, — whic& otherwise are none 

But darts and mischiefs, — oh, then, sunlike, he 

Doth actuate, produce, ripen, and free 

From grossness, those good seeds which in us lie 25 

Till then as in a grave, and there would die. 

AH high perfections in a perfect lover 

His warmth does cheiish, and his light discover. 

He gives an even temper of delight 

Without; a niinute*s.loss ; nor fears affright 30 

Nor interrupt the joys such love doth bring, 

Nor no enjoying can dry up the spring. 

Unto another he lends out our pleasure. 

That — ^with the use — it may come home a treasure. 

Pure link of bodies where no lust controuls, 35 

The fastness and security of souls ! 

Sweetest path of life, virtue in full sail, 

Tree-budding hope whose fruit doth never fail ! 

To this dear love I do no rebel stand, 

Though not employed, yet ready at command. 40 

Wherefore, oh Reason high, thou who art king 

Of the world's king, and dost in order bring 

The wild affections, which so often swerve 

From thy just inile, and rebel passions serve ; 

ELE0IB8. 241 

Thou without whose light love's fire is but smoke, 45 

Which puts out eyes and mind's true sense doth choak ; 

Eestore this lover to himself again, 

Send him a lively feeling of his pain, 

Give him a healthy and discerning taste 

Of food and rest, that he may rest at last, 50 

By strength of thee, from his strange strong disease, 

Wherein the danger is that it doth please. 

Grant this, oh Reason, at his deep'st request 

Who never loved to see your power supprest 

And now to you. Sir Love, your love I crave, 55 

Of you no mastery I desire to have. 

But that we may, like honest friends, agree, 

Let us to Keason fellow-servants be. 


From Sir Jolm Simeon's traotate, as before. But while Sir 
John assnreB us yery earnestly that he had well weighed the 
eyidence furnished in the different hss. of his own and of (now) 
Lord Houghton of the authorship of all printed by him being 
Donne's, a critical perusal of the present Elegy suggests that 
it cannot have been written by, though probably it was ad- 
dressed to, him. Line 89 (to notice only it) — 

* To this dear love I do no rebel stand' — 

seems plainly the poetic rejoinder of the person whom Donne 
had addressed in Elegy xxiii. This grows plainer still when we 
fiud that in reply to Donne's humorous curses he gives as * a 
soft answer turning away wrath' the prayer beginning line 41 ; 
and then applying to Donne the tiUe of Sib Love, clearly applies 
to him the phrase Donne had applied to Love : ' Thou art a 
master' (£1. xxiii. line 26), and concludes with, ' of you, Sir 

Love :' 

* Of yon no mai^tery I desire to haTC, 

But that we may, like honest friondf^, nintv.* (11. ^H et ftf^y.) 

VOIi. I. II 


The same is also referred to, line 18, ' When he a master is/ 
Sec, And again [Reason], 

* Give him a healthy and disoeming taste 
Of food and reift, that he may rest at last* (11. 49-JM).) 

refers to Donne's 

' Thou [Love] mak'rt food loathsome, sleep to be unnst.' 

So line 35 refers to Donne's line 18, and lines 41-3 to Donne's 
lines 23 and 26 ; for reason, king of the world's king, is reason 
king of man. I am indebted to the insight of Dr. Brinslej 
Nicholson for above line of detection. 

On line 7 see former note on the opinion of philosophers on 
this ; line 34, ' nse'sasnry, interest. G. 



If shadows be the picturo^s excellence 

And make it seem more lively to the sense ; 

If stars in the bright day. are lost from sight 

And seem most glorioua in the mask of Night ; 

Why should you think, rare creature, that you lack 5 

Perfectioli, cause your eyes and hair are black ; 

Or that your heavenly beauty, which exceeds 

The new-sprung liUes in their maidenheads, 

The damask colour of your cheeks and lips 

Should suffer by their darkness an eclipse 1 i o 

Rich diamonds shine brightest being set 

And compassed within a field of jet; 

Nor were it fit that nature should have made 

So bright a sun to shine without some shade — 


It seems that Nature, \¥'Iien she first did fancy 1 5 

Your rare composure, studied nigromancy : 

That when to you this gift she did impart 

She used altogether the black art, 

By which infusfed powers from magic book 

You do command, like spirits, with a look. 20 

She drew those magic circles in your eyes. 

And made your hair the chains with which she ties 

Eebelling hearts. Those blue veins, which appear 

Winding meanders about either sphere. 

Mysterious figures are ; and when you list, 25 

Your voice commandeth as the exorcist. 

O, if in magic you have power so far. 

Vouchsafe to make me your familiar. 

Nor hath dame Nature her black art revealed 

To outward parts alone, some lie concealed. 30 

For as by heads of springs men often know 

The nature of the streams which run below. 

So your black hair and eyes do give direction 

To think the rest to be of like complexion ; 

That rest where all rest lies that blesseth man, 35 

That Indian mine, that straight of Magelan, 

That world-dividing gulph, where he who ventures 

With swelling sails and ravisht senses, enters 

To a new world of bliss. Pardon I pray. 

If my rude Muse presumeth to display 40 

Secrets unknown, or hath her boimds overpast 

In praising sweetness which I ne'er did taste. 


Starved men do know there's meat, and blind men may, 

Though hid from light, presume there is a day. 

The rover, in the mark his arrow strikes 45 

Sometimes as weU as he that shoots at pricks ; 

And if that I might aim my shaft aright, 

The black mark I would hit and not the white. 



From Sir John Simeon, as before, as printed by him from 
his H88. The queen [Elizabeth] being fair, all beauties were 
golden-haired, and gray eyes were esteemed the loveliest ; and 
as we have seen in our own day, those who had dark hair 
used anricome dyes. This explains the heading and treatment 

Line 6, * nigromancy,'' This is not a punning coinage of 
Donne*s; for both forms — nigromancy=the black art = Ger- 
man Schwarzkunst ; and necromancy >= divination by calling up 
the deceased — existed in English, Italian, and French. As 
necromancy in its general sense is a misnomer — for it can only 
be appUed to such arts as that of the Witch of Endor — it may 
be that nigromancy, as having to do with spirits of blackness, 
was a mediflBval coinage, suggested by necromantia^ and this is 
supported in some degree by the Teutonic forms. The evidence, 
however, seems stronger for the belief that nigromancy is but 
a corruption of the modem Latin race pronunciation of the 
former necro, assisted by the evident fitness of the word niger 
so compounded. Thus the Italian pronunciation of necro would 
be negro ^ and this would glide, with the assistance mentioned, 
into nt^ro. In Spanish also there is, so far as I can find, but 
one form — negromancia (negro being also= black in Sp.); and 
it confirms this view, that the dictionary compilers of those 
days, and especially such a one as Minsheu, make no distinc- 
' tion between the two forms. 

Line 46, * pricks :* miswritten ' picks :* the rover shot at 
any casual mark, the other at a 'prick,' or established and 
measured mark. Minsheu gives ' prick' as = butt, though 
sometimes it would appear to be used preeminently of its 


BLE01B8. 245 

centre. From the use of the verh ' priokijig* in Ascham it 
would seem that a ' hntt' was called a * prick/ hecanse, it being 
for instruction and exercise in accuracy, the arrow was not 
shot with a long or strong flight so as to pierce, hot for a short 
distance, with moderate strength (and eyen with a weaker bow), 
so as only to ' prick' the mark. I commend this to my admir- 
able and erudite friend Bev. J. E. B. Mayor, who has edited 
with such scholarliness Ascham's * Scholemaster.* G. 



Shall I goe force an elegy ) abuse 

My witt 1 and breake the hymen of my Muse 

For one poore bower's love ? deserues it such 

Which seraes not mee to doe on ber as much 1 

Or if it would, I would tbat fortune sbuim — 5 

Who would be rich to be soe soon vndbne ? 

The beggar's best that wealth doth never know, 

And but to shew it him increasetb woe. 

But we two may enioy an bower, when never 

It returns, who would have a losse fur overl 10 

Nor can soe short a loue, if true, but bring 

A half-bower*s feare with thought of loosing. 

Before it all howers were hope, and all are. 

That shall come after it, yeares of dispaire. 

This ioy brings this doubt, whether it were more 1 5 

To haue enioyed it, or haue dy'de before. 

246 ELfiOIES. 

'Tis a lost Faradize, a fall from grace, 

Which I think Adam felt more than his race ; 

I^or need these angels any other Hell, 

It is enough for them firom Heaven they fell. 20 

Beside, conquest in love is all in all, 

That when I list shee under me may fall ; 

And for this tume, both for delight and view 

I'll haue a Succuba as good as you. 

But when these toyes are past, and 0' blood ends, our 

The best injoying is, wee still are fireindes. 26 

Loue can but be friendship's outside, there two their 

Beauties differ as minds and bodyes do. 

Thus I this good still fayne would be to take, 

Vnles one hower another happy make ; 30 

Or that I might foi^ett it instantly ; 

Or in that blest estate that I might dye. 

But why doe I thus trauaile in the skill 

Of disposed Poetry, and perchance spill 

My fortune, or undoe myself in sport 35 

By hauing but that daungerous name in Co art ? 

I'll leave, and since I doe your poet proue, 

Keepe you my lines as secret as my love. 


This Elegie as published by Sir John Simeon (ae before, 
pp. 18-14) differs in several places from his own ms. (exclnsive of 
modernised spelling), as a collation thereof by my sompolonsly- 
accnrate friend Colonel Chester reveals. I exactly reproduce 
the original ms. Sir John seems to have made np his text from 



some other copies ; bnt as he does not addnce these, it seems 
better to adhere to the ms. itself. These departures from the 
MB. being important, it is deemed expedient to record them : 
Line 7, ' his wealth he doth not know ;* line 25, ' hast* for ' onr' 
— ^the former better certainly, yet nnanthentic ; line 29, ' this 
great good still wonld ;' line 30, * bnt a poet*s name ;' line 34, ' Of 
deeper mysteries.* With reference to onr heading, which is that 
of the MS., it is noticeable from the after-elegies * oUf and not 
' to,' the Lady. Sooth to say, this Elegy is obscure and unsatis- 
factory. G. 


Trbw love fynds wytt, but he whose "witt doth move 

Him to love, confcsseth he doth not love ; 

And from his wytt, passions and true desire 

Are forc't as hard as from the flynnt is fyre. 

My Love's all fyer, whose flames my sowle doth nurs, 

Whose smoakes are syghs, whose eueiy spark's a vers. 

Doth measure win women ? Then I know the why 

Most of our ladyes with the Scots doe lye. 

A Scot is measured, in each syllable, terse 

And smooth as a verse, and like that smooth verse lo 

Is shallow, and wants matter cut in bands, 

And they're rugged. Her state better stands 

Whom dawncinge measures tempted, not y* Scott ; 

In briefe their out of measure co^, so gott. 

Greene-sicknes wenches (not needs must, but) may 15 

Looke pale, breathe short : at Court none so long stay. 


Good wit never dispaircd there, or ay me sayd, ah me 
For never wench at Covrt was ravished. 
And she but cheats on Heav'n whom soe you wynn, 
Thinkinge to share the sport, but not the synn. 20 


We print this for the first time from the Stephens' ms., 
where it is headed simply * Elegia Vndeoima.' In the Hafde- 
wood-Eingshorongh ms. (624, p. 165) there is another copy, 
with the name ' John Done' appended. It offers these various 
readings : 

Line 1, ' Trew :' oar ms. miswrites ' Even.' Cf. this line 
with Elegy xxiii. Love's Pow'r. 

Line 9, * A Soott measure :' both our text and this seem 
corrupt here. I have ventured to read * A Scott is measured' 
for * A Scot's;' the meaning=a Soot is measured [in his pro- 
nunciation] terse in each syllable. As may be seen by compari- 
son of Shakespeare's later writingSi it became the fashion to 
run words and syllables together, and to pronounce them as it 
were blurringly. The Scots were seemingly behind the fashion, 
besides having naturally that pronunciation which gave the 
spelling qhair and the like — a differenpe which led to great dis- 
puting. So much for ' measured and terse ;' but * smooth' I do 
not understand, except that, to myself a Scot, our vernacular 
seems liquid and musical as Italian in much of it. Possibly 
Raleigh, and the fashionable maritime expeditions, might have 
brought into vogue a more Devonian pronunciation. 

Line 10. I take the * And' before ' smooth' from Haslewood- 
Kingsborough ms. 

Line 11^ * writt in his hands :' ibid. Both fcexts obscure. 

lb. *Is shallow and wants matter, but [= except] in his 
hands, [which have the itch] ; and are also, unlike his smooth 
speech, rugged.' 

Lines 12-13. Possibly said with some remembrance of Queen 
Elizabeth, whom Sir C. Hatton pleased by his dancing, and who 
hated the Scots. 

Line 14, * she's out of measure lost :' ibid. 

lb. * Her state,' &c. being a comparison, he now returns. 

1...^ __. 


ftnd sajB, In hnet, tluMe bo obtained hy Sdoti and by measard, 
that is, not by force of boming affieotion, are out of measure, or 
wholly lost. 

Lme 16. Id est, none long stay so or snob. 
„ 17, ' or (aymer) sed ;' ibid. : meaningless. 'Ayme'= 
ah me : restores sense. The meaning seems to be, that true 
foreefnl loTe was nerer known at Oonrt, bnt that * wit,' which 
moved one to love fancifully, or in a measured way, never be- 
came disconsolate through ill success; for the women were 
enver ravished, bnt loved, as they ever did, by measure, and 
gave themselves up measuredly and willingly, without being 
forced either by their lovers' forceful love or by their own. 

Line 18, * mingled :' ibid. G. 



Behold a wonder snch as hath not bene 

From Pirrhus age vnto this present seene ! 

Six fingers, two heads, and such rarieties 

Which sometyme haue been thought as prodigies 

May passe as common things. No monster there 5 

Compared with this which I about me beare. 

Sporting with Calda as I oft before 

Had done with her, and many of them more, 

When in few dayes somthinge began t' appears 

The thought whereof amazkl me with feare. 10 

I laad thought that I 'had plundyred a sandy shore, 

For what's more barren then a comon whore ? 

But now I see the signes, feele them and handle, 

And know, alas, I^'am in for sope and candle. 



But heer^s the wonder, that noe Oedipus 1 5 

Nor sphinx can ere vnryddle without vs. 

The father and the mother are the same, 

And I the agent hoth and patient am. 

I gott the chyld and heare it, she is free, 

The care of being delivered lyes in mee. 20 

Mj belly swells and cannot be conceald, 

Jhe poyson is gone too farr to be heald. 

All men that see me [do] faint, halt and shrinke, 

Wonder to see*t, but know not what to think. 

Now is the tyme of my deliverance neare, 25 

And now I labour betwixt hope and feare. 

Hopinge y* best, yet euermore in doubt 

How this Caesarian bratt can be cut out. 

A barber is my mydwife, and a knyfe 

That cuts the infantas throat doth give it life. 30 

One such a chance acruid to Jove, when hee 

Slylie on earth stole secret leacherye. 

When Vulcan launc't Jiim and so drest y* sore 

That from that tyme he never felt it more. 

The chyld he Pallas calPd, because, quoth hee, 35 

Hereafter I do meane wyser to bee. 

So call I myne as aptly and as fytt. 

For I'me resolved, myne shal teach me wytt. 


From the Stephens' mb. (for the first time), where it is 
headed simply * Elegia Vicesima piyma.' The conceits of the 
age and of Donne were often so far-fetched, that a satisfactory 


fiolntion of the snbjeot of this poem is, as he says, impossible 
without his own aid. Perhaps he had a Winchester goose or 
ponlain, or possibly, from the expressions in line 30, paraphi- 

line 2, * Pirrhns age :* when the Romans were aflfrighted 
by his elephants. 

line 14 : probably used to facilitate deliveiy and to wash 
the child, Ae. Cf. Middleton^s Chaste Maid in Cheapside, 
where a * promoter* looking ont for those who sold or ate meat 
in Lent is left with a new-bom baby in a basket of meat, and 
says (ii. 2, vol. iy. p. 87, ed. Dyoe) : 

* Half onr gettlngs 
Must nm In Buifar-aope and naraee' wages now. 
Besides many a pound of toap and tallow ; 
We've need to tret loina of mutton sttll, to saTe 
Soet to change for candles.' 

Line 28 refers to the Cnsarian operation. G. 





Our text of this divinon of Donne's poetry is that of 1669, 
with the reenlts of collation of all the printed editions and mss. 
in Notes and IllnstrationB. These in this case are slight, as 
the Tariations toe almost wholly in orthography, and so not 
demanding record. See onr Essay (Vd. II.) for critical remarks 
on these Epithalaminms and the class to which they belong : 
also onr edition of Donne's friend Ohbibtopheb Bbookb (in 
Fuller Worthies' Miscellanies, Vol. lY.) for his Epithalaminm. 





Hail, Bishop Valentine, whose day this is, 

All the air is thy diocis, 

And all the chirping choristers 
And other birds are thy parishioners : 

Thou marryest every year 
The lyrique larke, and the grave whispering dove, 
The sparrow, that neglects his life for love, 
The household bird with the red stomacher ; 

Thou mak^st the blackbird speed as soon 
As doth the goldfinch or the halcion ; 
The husband cock looks out, and straight is sped, 
And meets his wife, which brings her feather-bed ; 
This day more cheerfully than ever shine, 
This day, which might inflame thyself, old Valentine. 


Till now, thou warm'dst with multiplying loves 
Two larks, two sparrows, or two dove* ; 


All that is nothing unto this, 
For thou this day couplest two phoenixes. 

Thou mak*8t a taper see 
What the sun never saw ; and what the ark 
(Which was of fowl and heasts the cage and park) 
Did not contain, one bed contains, through thee ; 

Two phoenixes, whose joyn^d brests 
Are unto one another mutual nests ; 
Where motion kindles such fires, as shall give 
Young phoenixes, and yet the old shall live : 
Whose love and courage never shall decline, 
But make the whole year through thy day, Valentino. 


Up then, fair phoenix bride, frustrate the sun ; 

Thyself from thine affection 
Tak*st warmth enough, and from thine eye 
All lesser birds will take their jollity. 

Up, up, fair bride, and call 
Thy stars horn out their several boxes, take 
Thy rubies, pearls, and diamonds forth, and make 
Thyself a constellation of them all : 

And by their blazing signifie 
That a great princess falls, but doth not die ; 
Be thou a new star, that to us portends 
Ends of much wonder ; and be thou those ends. 
Since thou dost this day in new glory shine, 
May all men date records from this day, Valentine. 



Come forth, come forth, and as one glorious flame, 

Meeting another, grows the same, 

So meet thy Frederick, and so 
To an unseparable union go ; 

Since separation 
Falls not on such things as are infinite, 
Nor things, which are but one, can disunite, 
You are 'twice inseparable, great, and one. 

Gro then to where the bishop stays. 
To make you one, his way, which divers wayes 
Must be effected ; and when all is past, 
And that y' are one, by hearts and hands made fast. 
You two have one way left yourselves t' entwine, 
Besides this bishop's knot of Bishop Valentine. 


But oh ! what ayles the sun, that here he stnios 

Longer to-day than other daies ? 

Stayes he new light from these to get ? 
And finding here such stores, is loath to set ? 

And why do you two walk 
So slowly pac'd in this procession 1 
Is all your care but to be look'd upon, 
And be to others spectacle and talk ? 

The feast with gluttonous delays 
Is eaten, and too long their mPAt they praise ; 

VOL. I. T. L 


Tlie masquers come late, and I think will stay, 
Like fairies, till the cock crow them away. 
Alas, did not antiquitie assign 
A night, as well as day, to thee, old Valentine ? 


They did, and night is come : and yet we see 

Formalities retarding thee. 

What mean these ladies, which (as though 
They were to take a clock in peeces) go 

So nicely about the bride ? 
A bride, before a good-night could be said. 
Should vanish from her clothes into her bed. 
As souls from bodies steal, and are not spy'd. 

But now she is laid : what though she be ? 
Yet there are more delayes ; for where is he ? 
He comes, and passeth through sphear after sphear ; 
First her sheets, then her armes, then anywhere. 
Let not this day, then, but this night be thine. 
Thy day was but the eve to this, Valentine ! 


Here lies a she sun, and a he moon there ; 

She gives the best light to his sphear, 

Or each is both, and all, and so 
Tliey unto one another nothing owe ; 

And yet they do, but are 
So just and rich in that coin which they pay. 
That neither would, nor needs, forbear, nor stay ; 
Neither desires to be spar'd, nor to spare ; 


They quickly pay their debt, and then 
Take no acquittances, but pay again ; 
They pay, they give, they lend, and so let fall 
No such occasion to be liberal. 
More truth, more courage in these two do shine, 
Than all thy turtles have, and sparrows, Valentine ! 


And by this act of these two phoenixes 

Nature again restored is ; 

For since these two are two no more, 
There's but one phoenix still, as was before. 

Best now at last, and we 
(As Satyrs watch the sun^s uprise) will stay 
Waiting when your eyes opened let out day. 
Only desir'd, because your face we see ; 

Others near you shall whispering speak, 
And wagers lay, at which side day will break, 
And win by observing then, whose hand it is, 
That opens first a curtain, hers or his ; 
This will be tryed to-morrow after nine, 
Till which hour we thy day enlaige, O Valentine ! 


Oar text of this * Epithalamiam* is from 1669 edition, with 
eollation of the others, as explained in the general note pre- 
fixed. It originally appeared in the 4to of 1638 (pp. 118-122), 
and since in all the after-editions. 

The Marriage celehrated took place at Whitehall on 14th 


February 1612- 13. Frederick Y. Duke of Bavaria and Elector 
Palatine of the Rhine (spelled as usual * Rhene* in the inscrip- 
tion), afterwards elected king of Bohemia, was driven from his 
dominions by the Emperor Ferdinand, and died at Mentz 29th 
November 1632. The Princess Elizabeth, eldest and only sur- 
viving daughter of James I. by Anne of Denmark, was bom 
19th August 1596, at the palace of Falkland in Fifeshire, Scot- 
land. She — the unfortunate Queen of Bohemia in history — 
died at Leicester House, in London, Idth February 1661-2, and 
was buried in Westminster Abbey on the 17th of the same 
month. They were the parents of * Prince Rupert.' 

The texts of printed editions and mbs. are nearly identical, 
but these variants may be recorded in 1635 edition : 

St. iv. last line has 6 (us. * our') ; probably an error for o'= 
of (1669, &c.). 

St. V. last line reads O Val. for * old :' the latter agrees bet- 
ter with context, ' Antiquity,' &o. 

St. vii. line 1 reads *Moon here' for 'Moon there;' the 
latter preferable. 

Then in st. vii. line 12, 1669 omits ' such' by mistake ; or 
possibly the author, discontented with the word, struck it out, 
without deciding on another. Several of the msb. (especially 
the Stephens') similarly drop words, to loss of metre. 

On the other hand, the Stephens' mb. offers, variations worth 
record : 

St. i. 1. 12, ' his wife, and brings his feather bed' (mb.). 

which her 

Both the sense and allusion make the latter preferable. In 
human marriages the man does not * bring' furniture ; and there 
is reason to believe that a bed was sometimes a gift with the 

lb. line 13, ' than others shine' (ms.). 

As the poet is speaking not of other days, but of past Valen- 
tines, the latter is preferable. 

St. ii. line 7. Cf. Progress of the Soul, st. iii. line 1, and 
note that the words ' cage' and * park,' used in both, confirm 
the view expressed there, that Janus is = Noah. 

St. iii. line 9, ' this blazing' (ms.). 


' Thig blazing' makes it an act of the princess ; and by context, 
* their meteor portents' gives the better reading. 



St. iv. line 4, * grow' (ms.). 

Here the ms. may be sftid to be equally good ; yet * go' might 
be defended, because he is speaking of before the marriage 
ceremony, and of ' going' to it. Haslewood-Kingsborongh ms. 
• growe.' 

St. yi. IB not in the ms. 
„ yii. line 6, * their' (ms.). 


*That' seems preferable; as also in these: line 7, *or stay' 
for ' now stay ;' and line 11, ' and' for ' they ;' and line 18, ' and' 
for ' more ;' and st. viii. line 10, * at whose side' (Ms.) for * which.' 
I prefer the printed texts. Other differences, mainly in spell- 
ing, do not call for notice. From whateyer cause, the printed 
texts of the Epithalamiums are unusually good and accurate. 
This point requires notice : 

St. viii. line 12. A strange custom this of visiting the yester- 
day-marHed couple in their chamber at morn, and while yet 
asleep or not risen. G. 


December 26, 1613. 

ALLOPHAMEsyiikiin^ Idiob in the Country that ChrUmas tinuy 
reprehend$ hit absence from Court at that Marriage of the 
Earl of Summerget ; Ipios gives an account of his purpose 
tlterein, and of his actioTis there. 


Unseasonablb man, statue of ice, 
What could to countrie's solitude entice 
Thee, in this yeare's cold and decrepit tynie ? 
Nature's instinct drawes to the warmer clyme 


Ev'n smaller birds, who by that courage dare 5 

In numerous fleets sayle through their sea, the ayre. 

What delicacy can in fields appeare, 

Whil'st Flora herself doth a freez jerkin wear 1 iHck 

Whil'st winds do all the trees and hedges strip 

Of leaves, to furnish rods enough to whip 10 

Thy madness from thee, and all springs by frost 

Have taken cold, and their sweet murmurs lost f 

If thou thy £Einlt8 or fortunes would'st lament 

With just solemnity, do it in Lent : 

At Court the Spring already advanced is, 1 5 

The sun stayes longer up ; and yet not his 

The glory is ; far other, other fires ; 

First, zeal to Prince and State ; then Love's desires 

Burn in one breast, and like heaven's two great lights, 

The first doth govern dales, the other nights. 20 

And then that early light, which did appear 

Before the sun and moon created were, — 

The prince's favour,— is diffused o'er all. 

From which all fortunes, names, and natures fall ; 

Then from those wombes of stars, the Bride's bright eyes, 

At every glance a constellation flies, 26 

And sows the Court with stars, and doth prevent 

In light and power the all-ey'd firmament [anticipate 

First her eyes kindle other ladies' eyes, 

Hien &om their beams their jewels' lusters rise, 30 

And from their jewels torches 4o take fire ; 

And all is warmth and light and good desire. 


Most other Courte, alas, are like to hell, 

Where in dark plots, fire without light doth dwell : 

Or hut like stoves, for lust and envy get 35 

Continual hut artificial heat ; 

Here zeal and love, grown one, all clouds disgest. 

And make our Court an everlasting East. 

And canst thou he from thence 1 


No, I am there : 

As heaven, to men disposed, is ev'ry where, 40 

So are those Courts, whose princes animate. 

Not only all their house, hut all their State. 

Let no man think, hecause he's full, he hath all ; 

Kings (as their pattern, God) are liheral 

Not only in fulness hut capacity, 45 

Enlarging narrow men to feel and see, 

And comprehend, the hlessings they hestow. 

So reclus'd hermits oftentimes do know 

More of heaven's glory, then a worldling can. than 

As man is of the world, the heart of man 50 

Is an epitome of God's great hook 

Of creatures, and man need no farther look ; 

Bo's the countiy, of Courts where sweet peace doth. 

As their own common soul, give life to hoth. 

And am I then from Court ? 


Dreamer, thou art 55 

Think'st thou, fantastique, that .thou hast a part 

264 EnTHAL.iMirMS. 

Ib the Indian Aect, because tfaon hart 

A little Bpke or mmber in thj tarteT 

Becaiue thou art not frozen, art thon warm I 

Seeat thou all good, Ijecauae Lhon scest no hann I ( 

The earth doth in her inner bowele hold 

Staff well diBpoB'd, and which would fain be ffAd : 

Bat never shall, except it chance lo Jje 

So npward, that heaven gild it with his ere ; 

Ab for divine things, faith comes from above, 6 

So, for best civil nse, all tinctures move 

From higher powers ; from God, religion springs ; 

Wisdom and honoar, from the aae of kings ; 

Then unbeguile thyself, and know with me, 

That angels, though on earth employ'd they be, 7 

Are etill in heaven ; so is he still at home 

That doth abroad to honest actions come. 

Chide thyself then, O fool, which yesterday 

Might'st have read more than all thy books bewray : 

Hast thou a history, which doth present 7 

A Court, where all affections do assent 

Unto the king's, and that, that kings' are just 1 

And where it is no levity to trust, 

Where there is no ambition but t' obey. 

Where none need whisper anything, yet may; 8 

Where the king's favours are so plac'd, that all 

Finde that the king therein is liberal 

To them in him, because his favours bend 

To vcrtue, to the which they all pretend 1 



Thou hast no such ; yet here was this, and more, — 

An earnest lover, wise tlien, and before. 86 

Our little- Cupid hath sued livery, 

And is no more in his minority ; 

He is admitted now into that brest 

Where the king's councels and his secrets rest. 90 

What hast thou lost, O ignorant man ! 


I knew 

All this, and only therefore I withdrew. 

To know and feel all this, and not to have 

Words to express it, makes a man a grave 

Of his own thoughts ; I would not therefore stay 95 

At a great feast, having no grace to say. 

And yet I 'scaped not here ; for being come 

Full of the common joy, I uttered some. 

Head then this nuptial song, which was not made 

Either the Court or men's harts to invade ; hearts 1 00 

But since I'm dead and buried, I could frame 

No epitaph, which might advance my fame. 

So much as this poor song, which testifies 

I did unto that day some sacrifice. 


Thou art reprieved, old 3'ear, thou shalt not die, 105 
Though thou upon thy death-bed lie, 

And should'st within five days expire. 
Yet thou art rescu'd from a mightier lir<», 



Thau thj old soul, the sun, 
When he doth ia hia largest circle run ; i lo 

The passage of the West or East would thaw, 
And open wide their eaaie liquid jaw 
To all our ships, could a Promethean art, 
Either unto the northern pole impart 114 

The fire of these inflaming eyes, or of this loving heart. 


But undisceming Uuse, which heart, which eyes. 

In this new couple dost thou prize, 

When hia eye as inflaming is 
As hers, and her heart loves as well as his 1 

Be tryed by beauty, and than ti»s 120 

The bridegroom is a maid, and not a man ; 
If by that manly courage they be tryed, 
Which scorns unjust opinion, then the bride 
Becomes a man : should chance or envie's art 
Divide these two, whom nature scarce did part, 125 
Since both have the inflaming eye, and both the loving 


Though it be some divorce to think of you 
Single, so much one are you two, 
Let me here contemplate thee 

First, chearful bridegroom, and first let me e 
How thou prevent'at the sun. 

And hie red foaming horses dost outrun ; 


How, having laid down in thy sovereigne's brest 

All businesses, from thence to reinvest 

Them, when these 'triumphs cease, thou forward art 135 

To show to her, who doth the like impart, 

The lire of thy inflaming eyes and of thy loving heart 


But now to thee, fair bride, it is some wrong, 

To think thou wert in bed so long : 

Since soon thou liest down first, 'tis fit 1 40 

Thou in first rising should allow for it. 

Powder thy radiant hair. 
Which if without such ashes thou would'st wear, 
Thou who, to all which come to look upon, 
Wert meant for Phoebus, would'st be Phaeton. 145 
For our ease give thine eyes the unusual part 
Of joy, a tear ; so quencht, thou mai'st impart. 
To us that come, thy 'inflaming eyes ; to him, thy lov- 
ing heart. 


Thus thou descend'st to our infirmity, 

Who can the sun in Winter see ; 150 

So dost thou, when in silk and gold 
Thou cloud'st thyself; since we, which do behold, 

Are dust and worms, 'tis just 
Our objects be the fruits of worms and dust. 
Let every jewel be a glorious star ; 155 

Yet stars are not so pure as their sphears are. 




But you are over-blest. Plenty this day 

Injures ; it causeth Time to stay ; 

The tables groan, as though this feast 
Would, as the flood, destroy all fowl and beast. 185 

And were the doctrine new 
That the earth moVd, this day would make it true ; 
For every part to dance and revel goes, 
They tread the ayr, and fall not where they rose. 
Though six hours since the sun to bed did part, 1 90 
The maskes and banquets will not yet impart 
A sunset to these weary eyes, a center to this heart 

IX. THE bride's QOINQ TO BED. 

What mean'st thou, bride, this company to keep ? 
To sit up, till thou fain would sleep f 
Thou maist not, when thou'rt laid, do so. 1 95 

Thyself must to him a new banquet grow. 
And you must entertain, 

And do all this day's dances o're again. 

Know, that if sun and moon together do 

Eise in one point, they do not set so too. 200 

Therefore thou maist, faire bride, to bed depart ; 

Thou art not gone being gone ; where're thou art. 

Thou leav'st in him thy watchfull eyes, in him thy 
loving heart. 



X. THE bridegroom's COMING. 

As he that sees a starr fall, runs apace 

And finds a gelly in the place, jcUy 205 

So doth the bridegroom haste as much, 

Being told this starre is fain, and finds her such. 
And as friends may look strange 

By a new fashion, or apparel's change, 

Their souls, though long acquainted they had been, 210 

These clothes — their bodies — never yet had seen. 

Therefore at first she modestly- might start, 

But must forthwith surrender every part [heart. 

As freely, as each to each before gave either hand or 


Now, as in Tullia's tomb one lamp burnt clear, 215 
Unchanged for fifteen hundred year, 
May these love-lamps we here enshrine, 
In warmth, light, lasting, equall the divine. 

Fire ever doth aspire. 
And makes all like itself, turns all to fire, — 220 

But ends in ashes ; which these cannot do, 
For none of these is fuell, but fire too. 
This is joye's bonfire, then, where Love's strong arts 
Make of so noble individual parts 224 

One fire of four inflaming eyes and of two loving hearts. 


As I have brought this song, that I may do 
A perfect sacrifice. Til burn it too. 



No, Sir, this paper I have justly got, 

For in burnt incense the perfume is not 

His only that presents it, but of all ; 230 

Whatever celebrates this festivdl 

Is common, since the joy thereof is so. 

Nor may yourself be priest : but let me go 

Back to the Court, and I will lay't upon 

Such altars as prize your devotion. 235 


This 'Eclogae* and Epithalmniam appeared originallj in 
the 4to of 1688 (pp. 128-129), and has since been reprinted in 
all the editions. Oar text is that of 1669, as before. There 
are no variations calling for record. It was fitting that Ben 
Jonson should write his delicious Masque of * Hymemei* at the 
marriage of the Lady Frances Howard (in her fourteenth year) 
with the Earl of Essex (in his fifteentii year) ; for there was 
then scope and warrant for all * Pleasures of Imagination* and 
* Pleasures of Hope ;* but it is deplorable to read his yerses * To 
the most noble and above his titles, Robert, Earle of Somerset, 
sent to him on his Wedding-day, 1618' (Cunningham's Jonson, 
vol. iii. pp. 465-6 ; from Notes and Queries, Ist series, vol. v. p. 
198), and equally so to have Donne celebrating the same vilely 
adulterous second marriage of the divorced ' Countess' of Essex 
with the minion of James, Robert Carr, Viscount Rochester 
(created just before it Earl of Somerset). This infamous mar- 
riage led to the murder of Sir Thomas Overbnry, and the trial 
and condemnation of the earl and countess — whose Uves, re- 
prieved by the king, were dragged out in mutual recrimination 
and loathing. Somerset died obliriously ; his devilish wife the 
object of national horror. I fear that as Bacon got Campion to 
write his Masque for the present occasion, he too over-persuaded 
Donne to prepjire his Eclogue and Epithalamium. Be this as 
it may, it is saddening to find the great names of Bacon and 



Jonson and Donne mixed-np with a marriage so diBgraccful. 
The * Insatiate Coantess,' whether by Marston or not, probably 
reproduces (thongh founded on an older story) the popolar 
opinion of oar * Countess/ spite of her beauty and fascination. 
On these see 11. 25, Ac, and st. ii. iv. y. &c. : on the public 
opinion of her, 11. 122-4 : 1. 167, again, refers to the differences 
of opinion among those who tried the case of divorce. Arch- 
bishop Abbot gave against it, notwithstanding the king's reproof, 
and three out of the five doctors of law went with him ; but 
some of the bishops took the king's view, and the divorce was 
decreed by seven against five : 11. 121, 142, and 222 remind us 
that the plea of divorce being that she forcedly remained a 
virgin, she was married as a virgin-bride, with 'untrimmed 
locks,' that is with loose and flowing hair. 

Line 5, * that :' Haslewood-Kingsborongh mb. * their.* 
6, *Jleet8:' cf. Mabvell, and our relative note. 
12. The construction * having taken' is colloquial and 
irregular : and I accept the * have taken* of 16S8. 

Line 21, * then .*' Haslewood-Kingsborough ms. ' show.' 
„ 87, '(2t>p«»t'= separate in a reflective sense, tend to 
dissolve as things digested in a retort or in the stomach : ' dis- 
gest* accepted from 1686 edition. 

Line 89, ^from thence:* this reduplication is now a forbidden 

Line 40, ' dUpb$*d.* This and the example line 62 show how 
* dispos'd' came (like * procative') to have tiie particular mean- 
ing first noticed by Dyce, and how the particular disposition is 
to be deduced from the context. See Jonson's Tale of a Tub 
(act iv. sc. 5), where out of three uses, the second, like the ex- 
ample in Love's Labour Lost (ii. 1), seems to show that it 
sometimes stood merely for disposed [to be merry] . 

Lines 64-5. Haslewood - Eingsborough mb. * I am not then 
from court.* 

line 67. Ibid. * East Indian.' 
,, 62-8. If this be a piece of mediieval natural science, it 
is unknown to me. 

Line 67, * powers :* Hariewood-EIingsborongh ms. * points.* 
77, * and fdoth present this] that kings' are just.* 
80. I accept here Haslewood-Kingsborough ms. instead 
of 1669 *^ Where men need whisper nothing . . .' 

Line 83, * to them in hini:* the particular one favoured, the 




Line 86, ' wise then, and before ;' the aUasion is to the say- 
ing that one cannot love and he wise. 

Line 87, ' h't;«ry*=relea8e from wardship. 

89, ' into ;' Haslewood-Kingshorongh * within. ' 
116. Ihid. reads * ondeseming . . . what eyes.' 
131, * prevenVet the tun.* This, and the wording of lines 
5-8, vi. line 1, Tii. line 2, and the opening of the Epith. at 
Lincoln's-inn, have greater point and appropriateness when 
we rememher the enstoms of the period. In more than one old 
play the people rise hefore snnrise to he ready for a hridal ; 
and in one the father is surprised at the girls not being np ; 
but not snzprised when from their absence he supposes that 
they rose before him, and slipped off to ohnroh. 

Line 145, * Phaeton* [and scorch them] . 
„ 150, * Winter.* I accept this reading from Addl. iiss. 
18647, Plat. 201 H. In 1688, 1685, 1689, 1649, and 1669 
* water:* in Stephens' ms. 'waters:' but line 152 'oloud'st' 
shows Winter to be the tme reading, becaase the thought. It 
is no question of non-viewing the direct splendour of the sun. 

Line 161, ' cypres* —Giupe. 
„ 172, ' never sing,* and therefore never die ; the allusion 
being to the myth that swans sing [only] before they die. 

Lines 205-6, 'gelly*= jelly. One of those popular beliefs 
which in all probability arose from a coincidence, some gela- 
tinous matter having been found where an aerolite had buried 
itself and been lost, or where a star had seemingly fallen. 

Line 211, * These clothes* = their bodies, and so I punc- 
tuate (— )< 

Line 215, * lamp.* The ever burning light in Tullia's tomb 
and in another are mentioned by Sir Thomas Browne in his 
Pseudodoxia Epid. 1. iii c. 21 : < Why some lamps included in 
close bodies have burned many hundred years, as that dis- 
covered in the sepulchre of TuUia, the sister of Cicero, and that 
of OHMus many. years after, near Padua?' The belief is sup- 
posed to have arisen from the taking fire of pent-up gasos at 
the moment of opening. G. 





The sun-beams in the East are spred. 
Leave, leave, fair Bride ! your solitary bed ; 

No more shall you return to it alone, 
It nurseth sadness ; and your bodie*s print, 
Like to a grave, the yielding downe doth dint : 5 

You and your other you meet there anon : 

Put forth, put forth, that warm balm-breathing thigh. 
Which when next time you in these sheets will smother 
There it must meet another. 

Which never was, but must be, off more nigh. i o 
Come glad from thence, go gladder then you came, than 
T(hday put on perfect ioiiy ami a woman^s name, 


Daughters of London ! you which be 
Our golden mines and furnished treasui'ie ; 

You which are angels, yet still bring with you 15 
Thousands of angels on your marriage day^ 
Help with your presence, and devise to praise 

These rites, which also unto you grow due ; 

Conceitedly dress her, and be assigned 



By you fit place for every flower and jewel ; 
Make her for Love fit fuel 

As gay a8 Flora, and as rich as Indie ; 
So may she, fair and rich, in nothing lame, 
To-day put on perfection, and a woman^s name. 




And you, frolic Patricians, 25 

Sons of those senators, wealth's deep oceans ; 

Ye painted Courtiers, barrels of others* wits ; 
Ye countrymen, who but your beasts love none ; 
Ye of those fellowships, whereof he's one, 

Of study and play made strange hermaphrodite, 30 

Here shine ; this bridegroom to the Temple bring. 
Loe, in yon path, which store of strew'd flowers graceth. 
The sober virgin paceth ; 

Except my sight fail, 'tis no other, thing. 
Weep not, nor blush, here is no grief nor shame ; 35 
To-day put on perfection, and a woman^s name. 


Thy two-leaVd gates, fair Temple 'unfold, 
And these two in thy sacred bosome hold. 

Till, mystically joyn'd, but one they be ; 
Then may thy lean and hunger-starvM womb 
Long time expect their bodies, and their tomb, 

Long after their own parents fatten thee. 

All elder claims, and all cold barrenness, 




All yielding to new loves, be fane foieTer, 

Which might these two dissever ; 45 

Alwayes all th' other may each one possesB ; 
For the best bride, best worthy of piaiae and fame, 
To-day jfuU on perfection^ and a wotnatCs name. 


Winter dayes bring mach delist, 

Not for themselves, but for they soon bring night ; 50 

Other sweets wait thee then these diverse meats, Umd 
Other disports then dancing jollities, than 

Other love-tricks then glancing with the eyes, thaa 

But that the sun still in our half-sphear sweats ; 

He flies in winter, but he now stands still ; 55 
Tet shadows turn ; noon-point he hath attain'd, 
HIb steeds will be restrained, 

But gallop lively down the western hill : 
Thou shalt, when he hath run the heaven's half-frame, 
To-night put on perfection^ and a toomarCs name, 60 


The amorous evening starre is rose ; 

Why then should not our amorous star inclose 

Herself in her wish'd bed t Eelease your strings, 
Musitians, and dancers, take some truce 
With these your pleasing labours, for great use 65 

As much wearines as perfection brings. 


You, and not only you, but all toyFd beasts, 
Kest duly ; at night, all their toyles are dispenced ; 
But in their beds commenced 

Are other labors, and more dainty feasts. 70 

She goes a maid, who, lest she turn the same, 
To-night puts on perfection, and a wtmutfCe name, 


Thy virgin's girdle now vntie, 

And in thy nuptial bed (love's altar) lie 

A pleasing sacrifice ; now dispossess 75 

Thee of these chains and robes, which were put on 
T' adorn the day, not thee ; for thou alone, 

Like virtue and truth, art best in nakedness ; 

This bed is only to viiginitie 
A grave, but to a better state a cradle. 80 

Till now thou wast but able 

To be what now thou art ; then that by thee 
No more be said, / may fte, but I am, 
To-night put on perfection, and a woman^e name. 


Even like a faithful man, content 85 

That this life for a better should be spent, 

So she a mother's rich stile doth prefere, 
And at the bridegroom's wish'd approach doth lie, 
Like an appointed lamb, when tenderly 

The priest comes on his knees t' imbowel her. 90 


Now sleep, or waich with more joy ; and, oh, light 
Of heav'n I to-morrow rise thou hot and early, 
This sun will love so dearly 

Her rest, that long, long, we shall want her sight. 
Wonders are wrought ; for she which had no name 95 
To-night puts on perfection, and a tooman^s nanie. 


This Epiihalaminm appeAred originally in the 4to of 1633 
(pp. 136-138), and since in all the editionB. Onr text is that 
of 1669, as before. The variati<Hi8 are of no importance. 

St. i. line 1. See note on preTions poem (ill. 5). 

lb. line 6, ^meeV=do meet=will meet. 

St. iii line 1 (line 25), * Patricians :' Addl. icss. 18647 reads 
' Pnritans . . . Come of . . . ' 

lb. line 6. The students of the Law constantly sapple- 
mented * study* with masques and plays, either acting them- 
selTcs or hiring others to act before them. One yery magni- 
ficent entertainment was given to Queen Elizabeth by those of 
the Inner Temple at Christmas 1561-2, when they performed 
Ferrez and Pollux ; and the Four Inns combined in February 
1634 to present before the court Shirley's Masque of the Triumph 
of Peace, the music of which cost 10002., and the clothes of the 
horsemen were valued at 10,0002., and the whole charges 20,0002. 
See Collier, Ann. of Stage, i. 179, and iii. 59, and authorities 
there noted. 

St. iy. line 9 (line 45); xs. 18647 reads ' Never night . . .* 
„ vi. line 8 (line 68), ' dUpenc*d :' a license for ' dispensed* 

.St. viii. line 9 (line 93), ' This sun . . .'=the bridegroom: 
a thought reversed from Psalm xix. 4-5. 


London : Bobaon & Sons, Printers, PanorM Road.