A PANEGYRE.
HEau'n now not striues, alone, our brests to fill
With ioyes: but vrgeth his full fauors still.
Againe, the glory of our Westerne world
Vnfolds himself: & from his eyes are hoorl'd
(To day) a thousand radiāt lights, that stream
To euery nooke and angle of his realme.
His former rayes did onely cleare the skie;
But these his searching beams are cast, to prie
Into those darke and deepe concealed vaults,
Where men commit blacke incest with their faults;
And snore supinely in the stall of sin:
Where Murder, Rapine, Lust, doe sit within,
Carowsing humane bloud in yron bowles,
And make their denne the slaughter-house of soules:
From whose foule reeking cauernes first arise
Those dampes, that so offend all good mens eyes;
And would (if not dispers'd) infect the Crowne,
And in their vapor her bright mettall drowne.
To this so cleare and sanctified an end,
I saw, when reuerend THEMIS did descend
Vpon his state; let downe in that rich chaine,
That fastneth heauenly power to earthly raigne:
Beside her, stoup't on either hand, a maid,
Faire DICE, and EVNOMIA; who were said
To be her daughters: and but faintly knowne
On earth, till now, they came to grace his throne.
Her third, IRENE, help'd to beare his traine;
And in her office vow'd she would remaine,
Till forraine malice, or vnnaturall spight
(Which Fates auert) should force her from her right.
With these he pass'd, and with his peoples hearts
Breath'd in his way; and soules (their better parts)
Hasting to follow forth in shouts, and cryes.
Vpon his face all threw their couetous eyes,
As on a wonder: some amazed stood,
As if they felt, but had not knowne their good:
Others would faine haue shew'ne it in their words:
But, when their speech so poore a helpe affords
Vnto their zeales expression; they are mute:
And only with red silence him salute.
Some cry from tops of houses; thinking noise
The fittest herald to proclaime true ioyes:
Others on ground runne gazing by his side,
All, as vnwearied, as vnsatisfied:
And euery windore grieu'd it could not moue
Along with him, and the same trouble proue.
They that had seene, but foure short daies before,
His gladding looke, now long'd to see it more.
And as of late, when he through London went,
The amorous Citie spar'd no ornament,
That might her beauties heighten; but so drest,
As our ambitious dames, when they make feast,
And would be courted: so this Towne put on
Her brightest tyre; and, in it, equall shone
To her great sister: saue that modestie,
Her place, and yeares, gaue her precedencie.
The ioy of either was alike, and full;
No age, nor sex, so weake, or strongly dull,
That did not beare a part in this consent
Of hearts, and voices. All the aire was rent,
As with the murmure of a mouing wood;
The ground beneath did seeme a mouing floud:
Walls, windores, roofes, towers, steeples, all were set
With seuerall eyes, that in this obiect met.
Old men were glad, their fates till now did last;
And infants, that the houres had made such hast
To bring them forth: Whil'st riper ag'd, and apt
To vnderstand the more, the more were rapt.
This was the peoples loue, with which did striue
The Nobles zeale, yet either kept aliue
The others flame, as doth the wike and waxe,
That friendly temper'd, one pure taper makes.
Meane while, the reuerend THEMIS drawes aside
The Kings obeying will, from taking pride
In these vaine stirres, and to his mind suggests
How he may triumph in his subiects brests,
”With better pompe. She tells him first, that Kings
”Are here on earth the most conspicuous things:
”That they, by Heauen, are plac'd vpon his throne,
”To rule like Heauen; and haue no more, their owne,
”As they are men, then men. That all they doe
”Though hid at home, abroad is search'd into:
”And, being once found out, discouer'd lies
”Vnto as many enuies, there, as eyes.
”That princes, since they know it is their fate,
”Oft-times, to haue the secrets of their state
”Betraid to fame, should take more care, and feare
”In publique acts what face and forme they beare.
”She then remembred to his thought the place
”Where he was going; and the vpward race
”Of kings, præceding him in that high court;
”Their lawes, their endes; the men she did report:
”And all so iustly, as his eare was ioy'd
”To heare the truth, from spight, or flattery voyd.
”She shewd him, who made wise, who honest acts;
”Who both, who neither: all the cunning tracts,
”And thriuing statutes she could promptly note;
”The bloody, base, and barbarous she did quote;
”Where lawes were made to serue the tyran' will;
”Where sleeping they could saue, and waking kill;
”Where acts gaue licence to impetuous lust
”To bury churches, in forgotten dust,
”And with their ruines raise the panders bowers:
”When, publique iustice borrow'd all her powers
”From priuate chambers; that could then create
”Lawes, iudges, consellors, yea prince, and state.
”All this she told, and more, with bleeding eyes;
”For Right is as compassionate as wise.
Nor did he seeme their vices so to loue,
As once defend, what THEMIS did reproue.
For though by right, and benefite of Times,
He ownde their crownes, he would not so their crimes.
He knew that princes, who had sold their fame
To their voluptuous lustes, had lost their name;
And that no wretch was more vnblest then he,
Whose necessary good t'was now to be
An euill king: And so must such be still,
Who once haue got the habit to doe ill.
One wickednesse another must defend;
For vice is safe, while she hath vice to friend.
He knew, that those, who would, with loue, command,
Must with a tender (yet a stedfast) hand
Sustaine the reynes, and in the checke forbeare
To offer cause of iniurie, or feare.
That kings, by their example, more doe sway
Then by their power; and men doe more obay
When they are led, then when they are compell'd.
In all these knowing artes our prince excell'd.
And now the dame had dried her dropping eyne,
When, like an April Iris, flew her shine
About the streets, as it would force a spring
From out the stones, to gratulate the king.
She blest the people, that in shoales did swim
To heare her speech; which still began in him
And ceas'd in them. She told them, what a fate
Was gently falne from heauen vpon this state;
How deare a father they did now enioy
That came to saue, what discord would destroy:
And entring with the power of a king,
The temp'rance of a priuate man did bring,
That wan affections, ere his steps wan ground;
And was not hot, or couetous to be crown'd
Before mens hearts had crown'd him. Who (vnlike
Those greater bodies of the sky, that strike
The lesser fiers dim) in his accesse
Brighter then all, hath yet made no one lesse;
Though many greater: and the most, the best.
Wherein, his choice was happie with the rest
Of his great actions, first to see, and do
What all mens wishes did aspire vnto.
Hereat, the people could no longer hold
Their bursting ioyes; but through the ayre was rol'd
The length'ned showt, as when th'artillery
Of heauen is discharg'd along the skie:
And this confession flew from euery voyce:
Neuer had land more reason to reioyce.
Nor to her blisse, could ought now added bee,
Saue, that shee might the same perpetuall see.
Which when time, nature, and the fates deny'd,
With a twice louder shoute againe they cry'd,
Yet, let blest Brittaine aske (without your wrong)
Still to haue such a king, and this king long.