I giue thee ouer, doing all I can,
Th’art past recure, with all that God giues man.
To yong imaginaries in knowledge.
Neuer for common signes, dispraise or praise,
Nor art, nor want of art, for what he saies
Ascribe to any. Men may both waies make
In forme, & speech, a mans quicke doome mistake.
All then that stand in any ranke of Art,
Certaine decrees haue, how they shall impart
That which is in them: which decrees, because
They are within men, making there the lawes
To all their actions, hardly shew without:
And till their ensignes are displaid, make doubt
To go against or with them: nor will they
So well in words, as in their deeds display.
Decrees are not degrees. If thou shalt giue
Titles of learning, to such men as Hue
Like rude Plebeians, since they haue degrees,
Thou shalt do like Plebeians. He that sees
A man held learn’d do rudely, rather may
Take for that deed, his learned name away,
Then giu’t him for his name. True learnings act,
And speciall obiect is, so to compact
The will, and euery actiue powre in man,
That more then men illiterate, he can
Keepe all his actions in the narrow way
To God and goodnesse, and there force their stay
As in charm’d circles. Termes, tongs, reading, all
That can within a man, cald learned, fall;
Whose life is led yet like an ignorant mans:
Are but as tooles to goutie Artizans,
That cannot vse them; or like childrens arts,
That out of habite, and by rootes of hearts,
Construe and perce their lessons, yet discerne
Nought of the matter, whose good words they learn:
Or like our Chimicke Magi, that can call
All termes of Art out, but no gold at all:
And so are learn’d like them, of whom, none knows
His Arts cleare truth, but are meere Ciniflos.
But sacred learning, men so much prophane,
That when they see a learn’d-accounted man
Liues like a brute man; they will neuer take
His learn’d name from him, for opinions sake:
But on the false ground brutishly conclude,
That learning profites not. You beastly rude,
Know, it more profites, being exact and true,
Then all earths high waies chokt with herds of you.
But must degrees, & termes, and time in schooles,
Needs make men learn’d, in life being worse then fooles?
What other Art liues in so happy aire,
That onely for his habite, and his haire,
His false professors worth you will commend?
Are there not precepts, matter, and an end
To euery science? which, not kept, nor showne
By vnderstanding; vnderstanding knowne
By fact; the end, by things to th’end directed,
What hap, or hope haue they to be protected?
Yet find such, greatest friends: and such professe
Most learning, and will preasse for most accesse
Into her presence, and her priuiest state,
When they haue hardly knockt yet at her gate.
Externall circumscription neuer serues
To proue vs men: blood, flesh, nor bones nor nerues,
But that which all these vseth, and doth guide:
Gods image in a soule eternifide,
Which he that shewes not in such acts as tend
To that eternesse, making that their end:
In this world nothing knowes, nor after can,
But is more any creature then a man.
This rather were the way, if thou wouldst be,
A true proficient in philosophie:
Dissemble what thou studiest, till alone
By thy impartiall contention
Thou prou’st thee fit, to do as to professe.
And if thou still professe it not, what lesse
Is thy philosophie, if in thy deeds
Rather then signes, and shadowes, it proceedes?
Shew with what temper thou dost drinke, and eate:
How farre from wrong thy deeds are, angers heate;
How thou sustainst, and abstainst; how farre gone
In appetite and auersation:
To what account thou doest affections call,
Both naturall, and aduentitiall:
That thou art faithfull, pious, humble, kind,
Enemie to enuie: of a chearefull mind,
Constant, and dantlesse. All this when men see
Done with the learnedst, then let censure thee;
But if so dull, and blind of soule they are,
Not to acknowledge heauenly Mulciber,
To be a famous Artist by his deeds,
But they must see him in his working weeds:
What ill is it, if thou art neuer knowne
To men so poore of apprehension?
Are they within thee, or so much with thee
As thou thy selfe art? Can their dull eyes see
Thy thoughts at worke? Or how like one thats sworn
To thy destruction, all thy powres are borne
T’entrap thy selfe? whom thou dost hardlier please
Then thou canst them? Arme then thy mind with these:
I haue decrees set downe twixt me and God;
I know his precepts, I will beare his lode,
But what men throw vpon me, I reiect:
No man shall let the freedome I elect;
I haue an owner that will challenge me,
Strong to defend, enough to satisfie:
The rod of Mercurie, will charme all these,
And make them neither strange, nor hard to please.
And these decrees, in houses constitute
Friendship, and loue: in fields cause store of fruité:
In cities, riches; and in temples zeale:
And all the world would make one commonweale.
Shun braggart glorie, seeke no place, no name:
No shewes, no company, no laughing game,
No fashion: nor no champion of thy praise,
As children sweete meates loue, and holidaies:
Be knowing shamefastnesse, thy grace, and guard,
As others are with dores, wals, porters bard.
Liue close awhile; so fruits grow, so their seed
Must in the earth a little time lie hid;
Spring by degrees, and so be ripe at last.
But if the Eare, be to the blades top past
Before the ioynt amidst the blade, be knit,
The corne is lanke, and no Sunne ripens it.
Like which art thou yong Nouice; florishing
Before thy time, winter shall burne thy spring.
The husbandman dislikes his fields faire birth,
When timelesse heate beates on vnreadie earth,
Grieues lest his fruits with aire should be too bold,
And not endure the likely-coming cold.
Comfort the roote then first, then let appeare
The blades ioynt knit, and then produce the Eare:
So Natures selfe, thou shalt constraine, and be
Blest with a wealthy crop in spite of thee.
Of Constancie in goodnesse.
Who feares disgrace for things wel done, that knows it?
Wrong euer does most harme to him that does it.
Who more ioy takes, that men his good aduance,
Then in the good it selfe, does it by chance:
That being the worke of others; this his owne.
In all these actions therefore that are common,
Men neuer should for praise or dispraise care,
But looke to the Decrees, from whence
they are.
Of Learning.
Learning, the Art is of good life: they then
That leade not good liues, are not learned men.
For ill successe.
If thou sustainst in any sort an ill,
Beare some good with thee to change for it still.
Of negligence.
When thou letst loose thy mind to obiects vain
Tis not in thee to call her backe againe:
And therefore when thy pleasure in her good
Droopes, and would downe in melancholy blood,
Feed her alacritie with any thought
Or word, that euer her recomfort wrought.
Of iniurie.
When thou art wrong’d, see if the wrong proceed
From fault within thy iudgement, word or deed:
If not, let him beware that iniures thee,
And all that sooth him; and be thy state free.
Of Attire.
In habite, nor in any ill to th’eie,
Affright the vulgar from Philosophie:
But as in lookes, words, workes, men witnesse thee
Comely and checklesse, so in habite be.
For if a man shall shew me one commended
For wit, skill, iudgement, neuer so extended,
That goes fantastically, and doth fit
The vulgar fashion; neuer thinke his wit
Is of a sound peece, but hath bracks in it.
If slouenly and nastily in weeds
Thou keep’st thy body, such must be thy deeds.
Hence, to the desart, which thou well deseru’st,
And now no more for mans societie seru’st.
Externall want to this height doth expresse
Both inward negligence, and rottennesse.
FRAGMENTS.
Of Circumspection.
In hope to scape the law, do nought amisse,
The penance euer in the action is.
Of Sufferance.
It argues more powre willingly to yeeld
To what by no repulse can be repeld,
Then to be victor of the greatest state,
We can with any fortune subiugate.
Of the Soule.
The Soule serues with her functions to excite,
Abhorre, prepare, and order appetite,
Cause auersation, and susception:
In all which, all her will is built vpon
Ill receiu’d iudgements; which reforme with good;
And as with ill she yeelded to thy blood,
And made thy pleasures, God and man displease,
She will as well set both their powres at peace,
With righteous habits, and delight thee more
With doing good now, then with ill before.
Of great men.
When Homer made Achilles passionate,
Wrathfull, reuengefull, and insatiate
In his affections; what man will denie
He did compose all that of industrie?
To let men see, that men of most renowne,
Strong’st, noblest, fairest, if they set not downe
Decrees within them, for disposing these,
Of iudgement, resolution, vprightnesse,
And vertuous knowledge of their vse and ends,
Mishaps and miserie, no lesse extends
To their destruction, with all that they prisde,
Then to the poorest, and the most despisde.
Of learned men.
Who knows not truth, knows nothing; who what’s best
Knowes not, not truth knowes. Who (alone profest
In that which best is) liues bad: Best not knowes,
Since with that Best and Truth, such ioy still goes,
That he that finds them, cannot but dispose
His whole life to them. Seruile Auarice can
Prophane no liberall-knowledge-coueting man.
Such hypocrites, opinions onely haue;
Without the minds vse: which doth more depraue
Their knowing powres, then if they nought did know.
For if with all the sciences they flow,
Not hauing that, that such ioy brings withall,
As cannot in vnlearn’d mens courses fall:
As with a tempest they are rapt past hope
Of knowing Truth, because they thinke his scope
Is in their tongues, much reading, speech profuse,
Since they are meanes to Truth in their true vse:
But tis a fashion for the damned crue,
One thing to praise, another to pursue:
As those learn’d men do, that in words preferre
Heauen and good life, yet in their liues so erre,
That all heauen is not broade enough for them
To hit or aime at, but the vulgar streame
Hurries them headlong with it: and no more
They know or shall know, then the rudest Bore.
AN EPICEDE OR FVNERALL SONG:
On the most disastrous Death, of theHigh-borne Prince of Men, HENRY Prince of WALES, &c.
TO MY AFFECTIONATE, AND TRVE FRIEND, MR. HENRY JONES.
My truest Friend:
THE most vnualuable and dismaifull loss of my most deare and Heroicall Patrone, Prince HENRY, hath so stricken all my spirits to the earth, that I will neuer more dare, to looke vp to any greatnesse; but resoluing the little rest of my poore life to obscuritie, and the shadow of his death; prepare euer hereafter, for the light of heauen.
So absolute, constant, and noble, your loue hath beene to mee; that if I should not as effectually, by all my best expressions, acknowledge it; I could neither satisfie mine owne affection, nor deserue yours.
Accept therefore, as freely as I acknowledge, this vnprofitable signe of my loue; till God blessing my future labours, I may adde a full end, to whatsoeuer is begunne in your assurance of my requitall. A little, blest, makes a great feast (my best friend) and therefore despaire not, but that, out of that little, our loues alwayes made euen, may make you say, you haue rather beene happy in your kindnesse, then in the least degree, hurt. There may fauours passe betwixt poore friends, which euen the richest, and greatest may enuy. And GOD that yet neuer let me liue, I know will neuer let me die an empaire to any friend. If any good, more then requitall succeede, it is all yours as freely, as euer yours was mine; in which noble freedome and alacritie of doing; you haue thrice done, all I acknowledge. And thus knowing, I giue you little contentment, in this so farre vnexpected publication of my gratitude; I rest satisfied with the ingenuous discharge of mine owne office. Your extraordinary and noble loue and sorrow, borne to our most sweet PRINCE, entitles you worthily to this Dedication: which (with my generall Loue, vnfainedly protested to your whole Name and Family) I conclude you as desertfull of, at my hands, as our Noblest Earles; and so euer remaine
Your most true poore Friend,
Geo: Chapman.
AN EPICED, OR FUNERALL SONG.
On the most disastrous Death, of the
High-borne Prince of Men, HENRY
Prince of WALES, &c.
IF euer aduerse Influence enui’d
The glory of our Lands, or tooke a pride
To trample on our height; or in the Eye
Strooke all the pomp of Principalitie,
Now it hath done so; Oh, if euer Heauen
Made with the earth his angry reckening euen,
Now it hath done so. Euer, euer be
Admir’d, and fear’d, that Triple Maiestie
Whose finger could so easily sticke a Fate,
Twixt least Felicity, and greatest state;
Such, as should melt our shore into a Sea,
And dry our Ocean with Calamitie.
Heauen open’d, and but show’d him to our eies,
Then shut againe, and show’d our Miseries.
O God, to what end are thy Graces giuen?
Onely to show the world, Men fit for Heauen,
Then rauish them, as if too good for Earth?
&
nbsp; We know, the most, exempt in wealth, power, Birth,
Or any other blessing; should employ
(As to their chiefe end) all things they enioy,
To make them fit for Heauen; and not pursue
With hearty appetite, the damned crue
Of meerely sensuall and earthly pleasures:
But when one hath done so; shal strait the tresures
Digg’d to, in those deeps, be consum’d by death?
Shall not the rest, that error swalloweth,
Be, by the Patterne of that Master-peece,
Help’t to instruct their erring faculties;
When, without cleare example; euen the best
(That cannot put by knowledge to the Test
What they are taught) serue like the worst in field?
Is power to force, who will not freely yield,
(Being great assistant, to diuine example)
As vaine a Pillar to thy Manly Temple?
When (without perfect knowledge, which scarce one
Of many kingdoms reach) no other stone
Man hath to build one corner of thy Phane,
Saue one of these? But when the desperate wane
Of power, and of example to all good,
So spent is, that one cannot turne the flood,
Of goodnes, gainst her ebbe; but both must plie,
And be at full to; or her streame will drie;
Where shall they meete againe, now he is gone
Where both went foot by foot; & both were one?
One that in hope, tooke vp to toplesse height
All his great Ancestors; his one saile, freight
With all, all Princes treasures; he like one
Of no importance; no way built vpon,
Vanisht without the end; for which he had
Such matchlesse vertues, & was God-like made?
Haue thy best workes no better cause t’expresse
Themselues like men, and thy true Images?
To toile in vertues study, to sustaine
(With comfort for her) want, & shame, & paine;
No nobler end in this life, then a death
Timeles, and wretched, wrought with lesse then breath?
And nothing solide, worthy of our soûles?
Nothing that Reason, more then Sense extols?
Nothing that may in perfect iudgement be
A fit foote for our Crowne eternitie?
All which, thou seem’st to tell vs, in this one
Killing discomfort; apt to make our mone
Conclude gainst all things, serious and good;
Our selues, not thy forms, but Chymaeras brood.
Now Princes, dare ye boast your vig’rous states
That Fortunes breath thus builds and ruinates?
The Complete Poetical Works of George Chapman Page 27
