Category: PART II

¹

Man is a creature like² himself alone;
In him all qualities do join³ as one.
When man⁴ is injured, and his honor stung,⁵
He seems a lion, furious, fierce, and strong.
With greedy covetousness, like to⁶ wolves and bears,           5
Right he devours,⁷ and truth in pieces tears.
Or like as crafty foxes lie in wait
To catch young novice kids⁸ by their deceit,
So subtle knaves do watch who errors⁹ make,
That they thereby advantages might¹⁰ take,                             10
Not for examples them to rectify,
But that much mischief they can make thereby.
Others, like crouching spaniels, close will set,
Creeping about the partridge to in-net.
Some humble seem, and lowly bend the knee                        15
To men of¹¹ power and authority,
Not out of love to honor and¹² renown,
But to ensnare, and so to pull them down.
For¹³ as a mastiff flies at every throat,
So spite will fly at all that are¹⁴ of note.                                    20
With slanderous words, as teeth, good deeds they¹⁵ tear,
No power, strength, nor greatness do they spare,¹⁶
And are so mischievous,¹⁷ love not to see
Any to live without an infamy.
Most do like¹⁸ ravenous beasts in blood delight,                     25
And only to do mischief, love to fight.
But some are like to horses, strong and free,
Will gallop over wrong, and injury,
Who¹⁹ fear no foe, nor enemies do dread,²⁰
Will²¹ fight in battles till they fall down dead.                         30
Their heart with noble rage so hot will grow,
That²² from their nostrils clouds of smoke do blow.
And with their hooves the firm hard ground will strike²³
In²⁴ anger, that they cannot go to fight.
Their eyes, like flints,²⁵ will shoot²⁶ out sparks of fire;          35
They’ll²⁷ neigh out loud when combats they desire.
So valiant men their foe aloud will call,
To try their strength, and grapple arms withal.
And in their eyes such courage doth appear,
As if god²⁸ Mars did rule that hemisphere.                               40
Some, like to slow, dull asses, full of fear,
Contented are heavy burdens to²⁹ bear,
And every clown doth beat his back and side
Because he’s slow, and faster³⁰ he would³¹ ride.
Then will he bray out loud, but dare not bite,                          45
For why he hath not courage for³² to fight.
Base minds will yield their heads under the yoke,
Offer their backs to every tyrant’s stroke.
Like fools they’ll³³ grumble, but they³⁴ dare not speak,
Nor strive for liberty, their bonds to break.                              50
So dull will those that live in slav’ry³⁵ grow;
Dejected spirits make the body slow.
Others as swine lie groveling in the mire,
Have no heroic thoughts to rise up higher;
They³⁶ from their birth do never sport nor play,                     55
But eat and drink, and grunting run away,
Of grumbling natures, never doing good,³⁷
And cruel are, as of a boorish brood.³⁸
So gluttons, sluggards care for nought but ease,
In conversations seek no man to³⁹ please,                                60
Ambition none,⁴⁰ to make their name to⁴¹ live,
Nor have they generosity to give,
And⁴² are so churlish, that if any pray
To help their wants, they’ll⁴³ cursing go away.
So cruel are,⁴⁴ so far from death to save,                                  65
That they will take away the life they⁴⁵ have.
Some, as the⁴⁶ fearful hart, or frighted hare,
Shun every noise, and their own shadows fear.
So cowards, that are⁴⁷ sent in wars to fight,
Think not to beat, but how to make their flight.                      70
The trumpet, when⁴⁸ to charge the foe it calls,
Then with that sound⁴⁹ the heart o’th’coward⁵⁰ falls.
Others, as harmless sheep, in peace do live,
Contented are, no injury will give,
But on the tender grass they⁵¹ gently feed,                               75
And neither⁵² spite nor rankled malice breed.
They⁵³ never in the ways of mischief stood,
To set their teeth in flesh or drink up blood.
They⁵⁴ grieve to walk alone, and⁵⁵ pine away,
Grow fat in flocks, and⁵⁶ with each other play.                        80
The naked they do⁵⁷ clothe with their soft wool;
The ewes do feed the hungry stomach full.
So gentle natures and sweet dispositions⁵⁸
Contented live, and shun foolish ambitions,⁵⁹
Full of compassion, pitying the distressed,                               85
And with their bounty help they⁶⁰ the oppressed.
They swell not with the pride of self-conceit,
Nor for their neighbor’s life do lie in wait,
Nor innocence by their extortions tear,
Nor fill the widow’s heart with grief or care,                           90
Nor any bribes do take with cov’tous⁶¹ hands,
Nor set they back the mark of th’owners’ lands,
But gratefully all courtesies requite,⁶²
Free from all envy, malice, spleen and spite,⁶³
And in⁶⁴ their conversation,⁶⁵ meek and mild,                        95
Without lascivious words or actions wild.
Those men⁶⁶ are fathers to a commonwealth
Where justice lives,⁶⁷ and truth may show herself.⁶⁸
Others, as apes, do imitate the rest,
And when they mischief do, seem but to jest.                          100
So are buffoons, which⁶⁹ seem for mirth to sport,
Whose liberty makes⁷⁰ factions in a court.
Those that delight in fools must in good part
Take what they say, although their⁷¹ words are smart.
And⁷² many times they⁷³ rankled thoughts beget                   105
In hearts of princes, and much envy set
By praising rivals, or else do reveal
Those faults they should with privacy conceal.⁷⁴
For when⁷⁵ a fool unpleasing truth doth tell—⁷⁶
Or be it false, if like a⁷⁷ truth it smell—⁷⁸                                  110
It gets such hold, e’en⁷⁹ in a wise man’s brain,
That hardly it will ever out again.
Some are⁸⁰ like worms, upon which others tread,⁸¹
And some like ven’mous vipers do sting dead.⁸²
Some like to⁸³ subtle serpents wind about,                               115
To compass their designs crawl in and out,
And never leave until some nest they find,
Suck out the eggs, and leave the shells behind.
So flatterers with praises wind about
A noble mind, to get a secret out,                                                120
For⁸⁴ flattery through every ear will glide
Down to the heart, and there some time abide,
And in the breast with feignèd friendship lie,
Till to the death it⁸⁵ stings it⁸⁶ cruelly.
Thus some like beasts, and some like worms⁸⁷ are such,      125
But some do flying birds⁸⁸ resemble much.
Some, like a⁸⁹ soaring eagle, mount up high;
Wings of ambition bear them to the sky.
And some, like⁹⁰ hawks, fly round to catch their prey;
Some,⁹¹ like to puttocks, bear the chick away;                        130
Some, are like⁹² ravens, which on carrion feed,
Feeding on spite, which spite doth⁹³ slanders breed.
And like as peacocks proud their tails do⁹⁴ show,
So men⁹⁵ that followers have will haughty grow.
Some melancholy owls that hate the light,                               135
And like as bats fly⁹⁶ in the shades of night;
So envious men their neighbor⁹⁷ hate to see,
When that he shines⁹⁸ in great prosperity,
Keep home in discontent, repine at all,
Until some mischief on the good do fall.                                   140
Others, like⁹⁹ cheerful larks, sing as they fly,
So they¹⁰⁰ are merry and¹⁰¹ have no envy,
And some, like¹⁰² nightingales, do sweetly sing,
As messengers when they good news do bring.
Thus men, beasts, birds,¹⁰³ in humours much agree,             145
But several properties in these there¹⁰⁴ be.
’Tis proper for a lively horse to neigh,
And for a slow, dull, foolish ass to bray.
For dogs to bark, bulls roar, wolves howl, pigs squeak,
For men to frown, to weep, to laugh, to speak.                        150
Proper for flies to buzz, birds sing and chatter,
Only for men¹⁰⁵ to promise, swear, and flatter.
Thus can man’s shape their properties express,¹⁰⁶
Yet they have some which all his skill surpass.¹⁰⁷
For men want¹⁰⁸ wings to fly up to the sky,                             155
Nor can they like to¹⁰⁹ fish in waters lie.
What¹¹⁰ man like roes can run so swift, and long?¹¹¹
Nor are they like to horse, or lions strong.
Nor have they scent like dogs, a hare to find,
Nor¹¹² sight like swine, to see the subtle wind.                       160
Thus several creatures, by their¹¹³ several sense,
Have better far (than man)¹¹⁴ intelligence.

These¹¹⁵ several creatures several arts know¹¹⁶ well,¹¹⁷
But man in gen’ral¹¹⁸ doth them far excel.
For arts in men as well did nature¹¹⁹ give,                               165
As other qualities to beasts¹²⁰ to live.
And from men’s¹²¹ brains such fine inventions flow,
As in his head all other heads do grow.
What creature builds like man such¹²² stately towers,¹²³
And makes¹²⁴ such things as time cannot devour?                 170
What creature makes such engines as man’s hand,¹²⁵
To traffic and to use, at sea and land,¹²⁶
To kill, or¹²⁷ spoil, or else alive to take,
Destroying all that other creatures make?
This makes man seem of all the world a king,                         175
Because he power hath of everything.
He’ll teach birds words, in measure beasts¹²⁸ to go,
Makes passions in the mind to ebb and flow.
And though he cannot fly as birds, with wings,
Yet he can take the height and breadth of things.                   180
He knows the course and number of the stars,
But¹²⁹ birds and beasts are no astrologers.
And though he cannot like to fishes swim,¹³⁰
Yet nets he makes to catch those fishes in.¹³¹
And with his ships the world he’ll circle¹³² round;                 185
What beast or bird that doth so is yet¹³³ found?
He’ll fell down woods; with axes sharp he’ll¹³⁴ strike;
Whole herds of beasts can never do the like.
What beast can plead to save another’s life,
Or by his eloquence can end a strife?                                        190
Or counsels give, great dangers for to¹³⁵ shun,
Or tell the cause of the eclipsèd sun?¹³⁶
He’ll turn the current of the waters¹³⁷ clear,
And make that they do like new seas¹³⁸ appear;
Where fish do¹³⁹ only in old waters glide,                                195
Can¹⁴⁰ cut new rivers out on any side.
He’ll mountains make, which clouds almost do¹⁴¹ touch,
Mountains¹⁴² of moles or ants scarce do so much.
What creature like to man can reasons show,
Which makes him know¹⁴³ that he thereby doth know?       200
And who but man makes use of everything?¹⁴⁴
For¹⁴⁵ goodness out of poison he can bring.¹⁴⁶
’Tis only man that’s fill’d¹⁴⁷ with strong desire,
And by his rhet’rick¹⁴⁸ sets the soul on fire.
Beasts no ambition have to get a fame,                                      205
Nor build they tombs t’eternalize¹⁴⁹ their name.
They never war, high honor for¹⁵⁰ to get,
But to secure themselves, or¹⁵¹ meat to eat.
But men are like to gods; they live¹⁵² for ever shall;
And beasts are¹⁵³ like themselves, to dust shall¹⁵⁴ fall.          210

Mark but the little ant, how she doth run,
In what a busy motion she goes¹ on,
As if she ordered all the world’s affairs,
When ’tis but only one small straw she bears.
But when they find a fly, which on the ground lies² dead,   5
Lord,³ how they stir!⁴ So⁵ full is every head.⁶
Some with their feet and mouths draw it along,⁷
Others, their tails and shoulders thrust it on.⁸
And if a stranger ant comes on that way,
She helps them straight, ne’er asketh if she may,                   10
Nor stays to have⁹ rewards, but is well pleased;
Thus pays herself with her own pains, their ease.¹⁰
They live as the Lacedemonians did,
All is in¹¹ common; nothing is forbid.
No private feast, but altogether meet,                                       15
And wholesome food,¹² though plain, in public eat.¹³
They have no envy; all ambition’s down;
There is neither superior, nor¹⁴ clown.
No stately palaces¹⁵ for pride to dwell:¹⁶
Their house is common, called the ants’ hill.                           20
All help to build, and keep it in repair;
No ’special workmen, but all lab’rers¹⁷ are.
No markets keep,¹⁸ no meat have they¹⁹ to sell,
For what each eats,²⁰ all welcome are,²¹ and well.
No jealousy, each takes his neighbor’s wife                              25
Without offense, which never breedeth strife.
They²² fight no²³ duels, nor do give the lie;
Their greatest honor is to live, not die.
For they, to keep up²⁴ life, through dangers venture²⁵
To get provisions in against the winter.²⁶                                 30
But many lose their life, as chance doth fall.
None is perpetual; Death devours²⁷ all.

¹

The yellow-bearded² corn bows down each head,
Like gluttons when their stomach’s overfed.
Or like to³ those whose wealth makes⁴ heavy cares,
So doth the full-ripe corn hang⁵ down their ears.
For⁶ plenty makes oppression, gives small ease,                     5
And superfluity is a disease.
Yet all that Nature makes doth still aspire⁷
Forward to get, never doth back retire,⁸
Until the scythe⁹ of Death doth lay them low
Upon the Earth, from whence they first did¹⁰ grow.              10
Then who would hoard up wealth, and take such pains,
Since nothing but the Earth has¹¹ all the gains?
No riches are, but what i’th’mind is found;¹²
They are but¹³ poor, who seek them under ground.¹⁴
For Time, that feeds on life, makes all things fall,                  15
Is never satisfied, but¹⁵ eats up all.
Then let the minds of men in peace take¹⁶ rest,
And count a moderation still the best,
And grumble not, nor¹⁷ covet Nature’s store—
For those that are content can ne’er be poor—                       20
And¹⁸ bless the gods, submit to their decree,
Think all things best, what they are pleased shall¹⁹ be.
He that doth grumbl’at what he²⁰ cannot mend
Is one that takes a thing at the wrong end.

¹

Who knoweth, but that beasts,² as they do lie
In meadows low, or else on mountains high,³
May contemplations have upon⁴ the sun,
And how his daily, yearly circles run?⁵
Whether the sun about the Earth doth rove,                        5
Or else the Earth on⁶ its own poles doth move;⁷
And in the night, when twinkling stars they⁸ see,
Like man, imagine⁹ them all suns to be;
And may like man, stars,¹⁰ planets number well,
And could they speak, they might¹¹ their motions tell;      10
And how each planet in its orb doth¹² move;
’Gainst their astrology no man can¹³ prove.
For they may know the stars, and their aspects,
What influence they cast, and their effects.

¹

Who knows, but fish which in the sea do live²
Can a good reason of its saltness give,³
And how it ebbs and flows? Perchance they can
Show reasons more than ever⁴ yet could man.

Who knows, but birds which under th’azure skies¹
Do fly, know² whence the blustring winds do rise?³
May know what⁴ thunder is, which no man knows,
And what’s a blazing star,⁵ or where it goes,
Whether it be a chip, fall’n⁶ from the sun,                        5
And so goes out when⁷ aliment is done,
Or⁸ a sulphureous vapor drawn up high,
And when the sulphur’s spent the flame doth die,
Or whether’t⁹ be a jelly set on fire,
And wasting like a candle doth expire,                              10
Or whether’t¹⁰ be a star whole and¹¹ entire;
The birds, perhaps, might tell,¹² could we inquire.

O Nature! Nature,¹ hearken to my cry,
Each minute wounded am, but² cannot die.
My children, which I from my womb did bear,
Do dig my sides, and all my bowels tear.
They³ plow deep furrows in my very face;                  5
From torment I have neither time nor place.
No other element is so abused,
Or⁴ by mankind so cruelly is used.
Man cannot reach the skies to plow and sow,
Nor can they set, or make⁵ the stars to grow.              10
But they are still as Nature first did⁶ plant,
Neither maturity nor growth they want.
They never die, nor do they yield their place
To younger stars, but still run their own race.
The sun doth never groan young suns to bear,           15
For he himself is his own son and heir.
He in the center sits just like a king;⁷
Round him the planets are as in a ring;⁸
The largest⁹ orbs over his head turn slow,
And underneath the swiftest planets go.                      20
Each several planet,¹⁰ several measures take,
And with their motions they¹¹ sweet music make.
Thus all the planets round about him move,
And he returns them light for their kind love.

A prosperous knave, that mischief¹ still doth plot,
Swells big with pride since he hath² power got,
Whose³ conscience, like a purse drawn open⁴ wide,
False hands do cast in bribes on every side.
And as his⁵ guts are stuffed with excrement,                  5
So is his head with thoughts of ill intent.
No pity shows to men oppressed⁶ with grief,
But yet is apt to pity much a thief.
He thinks them fools that wickedness do shun,
Esteems them wise that⁷ evil ways do run.                      10
The noble he doth scorn if⁸ they be poor;
The rich, though ne’er so base, he doth adore.
He always smiles as if he peace still meant,
When all the while his heart to evil’s⁹ bent,
A seeming friendship,¹⁰ large professions make,           15
Where he doth think advantages to take.
Thus doth a glossing knave the world abuse;
To work his end, the Devil his¹¹ friend will¹² choose.

I do hate¹ fools, for they my brains do crack,
And when they speak, my patience’s on the rack.
Their actions all from reason quite do run;
Their ends prove bad, ’cause ill they first begun.
They fly from wisdom, do her counsels fear,              5
As if some ruin near their heads there were.
They seek the shadow, let the substance go,
And what is good or best, they do not know.
Yet stiff in their opinions, stubborn, strong,²
Although you bray them, sayeth Solomon.³                 10
As spiders’ webs entangle little flies,⁴
So fools wrapped up in webs of errors lie;⁵
Then comes⁶ the spider, flies with poison fills;
So mischief, after errors, fools oft kills.

¹

A sad and solemn verse doth please the mind,
With chains of passions doth the spirits bind.
As pencilled pictures drawn present² the night,
Whose darker shadows give the eye delight,
Melancholy aspects invite³ the eye,                                           5
And always have⁴ a seeming majesty.
By its converting qualities, there grows
A perfect likeness, when itself it shows.
Then let the world in mourning sit, and weep,
Since only sadness we are apt to keep.                                     10
In light and toyish things we seek for change;
The mind grows weary, and about doth range.
What serious is, there constancy⁵ will dwell,
Which shows that sadness mirth doth far excel.
Why should men grieve when they think on their grave,⁶  15
Since they no settlement in mirth can have?⁷
The grave, though sad, in quiet still they keep;
Without disturbing dreams⁸ they lie asleep.
No rambling thoughts to⁹ vex their restless brains,
Nor labor hard to scorch and dry¹⁰ their veins,                     20
No care to search for that they cannot find,
Which is an appetite in¹¹ every mind.
Then wish, good man, to die in quiet peace,
Since death in misery is a release.