Claia. Through his leane Chops a chattering he doth make
Which stirres his staring beastly driueld Beard,
And his sharpe hornes he seem'd at vs to shake,
Canst thou then blame vs though we are afeard.
Corbilus. Surely it seemes some Satyre this should be,
Come and goe back and guide me to the place,
Be not affraid, ye are safe enough with me,
Silly and harmlesse be their Siluan Race.
Claia. How Corbilus; a Satyre doe you say?
30How should he ouer high Parnassus hit?
Since to these fields there's none can finde the way,
But onely those the Muses will permit.
Corbilus. 'Tis true; but oft, the sacred Sisters grace
The silly Satyre, by whose plainnesse, they
Are taught the worlds enormities to trace,
By beastly mens abhominable way;
Besyde he may be banisht his owne home
By this base time, or be so much distrest,
That he the craggy by-clift Hill hath clome
40To finde out these more pleasant Fields of rest.
Naijs. Yonder he sits, and seemes himselfe to bow
At our approach, what doth our presence awe him?
Me thinks he seemes not halfe so vgly now,
As at the first, when I and Claia saw him.
Corbilus. 'Tis an old Satyre, Nimph, I now discerne,
Sadly he sits, as he were sick or lame,
His lookes would say, that we may easly learne
How, and from whence, he to Elizium came.
Satyre, these Fields, how cam'st thou first to finde?
50What Fate first show'd thee this most happy store?
When neuer any of thy Siluan kinde
Set foot on the Elizian earth before?
Satyre. O neuer aske, how I came to this place,
What cannot strong necessity finde out?
Rather bemoane my miserable case,
Constrain'd to wander this wide world about:
With wild Silvanus and his woody crue,
In Forrests I, at liberty and free,
Liu'd in such pleasure as the world ne'r knew,
60Nor any rightly can conceiue but we.
This iocond life we many a day enioy'd,
Till this last age, those beastly men forth brought,
That all those great and goodly Woods destroy'd.
Whose growth their Grandsyres, with such sufferance sought,
That faire Felicia which was but of late,
Earth's Paradice, that neuer had her Peere,
Stands now in that most lamentable state,
That not a Siluan will inhabit there;
Where in the soft and most delicious shade,
70In heat of Summer we were wont to play,
When the long day too short for vs we made,
The slyding houres so slyly stole away;
By Cynthia's light, and on the pleasant Lawne,
The wanton Fayry we were wont to chase,
Which to the nimble clouen-footed Fawne,
Vpon the plaine durst boldly bid the base.
The sportiue Nimphes, with shouts and laughter shooke
The Hils and Valleyes in their wanton play,
Waking the Ecchoes, their last words that tooke,
80Till at the last, they lowder were then they.
The lofty hie Wood, and the lower spring,
Sheltring the Deare, in many a suddaine shower;
Where Quires of Birds, oft wonted were to sing,
The flaming Furnace wholly doth deuoure;
Once faire Felicia, but now quite defac'd,
Those Braueries gone wherein she did abound,
With dainty Groues, when she was highly grac'd
With goodly Oake, Ashe, Elme, and Beeches croun'd:
But that from heauen their iudgement blinded is,
90In humane Reason it could neuer be,
But that they might haue cleerly seene by this,
Those plagues their next posterity shall see.
The little Infant on the mothers Lap
For want of fire shall be so sore distrest,
That whilst it drawes the lanke and empty Pap,
The tender lips shall freese vnto the breast;
The quaking Cattle which their Warmstall want,
And with bleake winters Northerne winde opprest,
Their Browse and Stouer waxing thin and scant,
100The hungry Groues shall with their Caryon feast.
Men wanting Timber wherewith they should build,
And not a Forrest in Felicia found,
Shall be enforc'd vpon the open Field,
To dig them caues for houses in the ground:
The Land thus rob'd, of all her rich Attyre,
Naked and bare her selfe to heauen doth show,
Begging from thence that Iove would dart his fire
Vpon those wretches that disrob'd her so;
This beastly Brood by no meanes may abide
110The name of their braue Ancestors to heare,
By whom their sordid slauery is descry'd,
So vnlike them as though not theirs they were,
Nor yet they sense, nor vnderstanding haue,
Of those braue Muses that their Country song,
But with false Lips ignobly doe depraue
The right and honour that to them belong;
This cruell kinde thus Viper-like deuoure
That fruitfull soyle which them too fully fed;
The earth doth curse the Age, and euery houre
120Againe, that it these viprous monsters bred.
I seeing the plagues that shortly are to come
Vpon this people cleerely them forsooke:
And thus am light into Elizium,
To whose straite search I wholly me betooke.
Naijs. Poore silly creature, come along with vs,
Thou shalt be free of the Elizian fields:
Be not dismaid, nor inly grieued thus,
This place content in all abundance yeelds.
We to the cheerefull presence will thee bring,
130Of Ioues deare Daughters, where in shades they sit,
Where thou shalt heare those sacred Sisters sing,
Most heauenly Hymnes, the strength and life of wit:
Claia. Where to the Delphian God vpon their Lyres
His Priests seeme rauisht in his height of praise:
Whilst he is crowning his harmonious Quiers
With circling Garlands of immortall Bayes.
Corbilus. Here liue in blisse, till thou shalt see those slaues,
Who thus set vertue and desert at nought:
Some sacrific'd vpon their Grandsires graues,
140And some like beasts in markets sold and bought.
Of fooles and madmen leaue thou then the care,
That haue no vnderstanding of their state:
For whom high heauen doth so iust plagues prepare,
That they to pitty shall conuert thy hate.
And to Elizium be thou welcome then,
Vntill those base Felicians thou shalt heare,
By that vile nation captiued againe,
That many a glorious age their captiues were.