The Complete Works of Richard Crashaw, Volume II

by Richard Crashaw

A DESCRIPTION OF SPRING.

The time is come, when, lord of milder hours,
The Sun, ascending fresh with larger powers,
Is wont to woo and soothe the purple Day,
And, brilliant with its beaming vernal ray,
To climb with face august the heavenly way;
All Nature's love, Earth's hope and glory golden,
To which for garlands virgins are beholden.
With a glad plenty of all living things
Sweet tender Spring approaches on soft wings.
The Year, more beauteous now with offspring new,
And crown'd with Youth's fresh flowers of every hue,
Delicious odours pours from happy breast,
Of fragrant progeny the parent blest:
O'er verdant fields, blue waters, everywhere,
At his own wealth he wonders, large and fair.
By her own Zephyr thirsty Earth unbound
Drinks eagerly the showers which fall all round;
While Flora, sitting where tall trees appear,
Lists, O how happily! as, murmuring near,
A father-fountain chides its gliding waters,
Which with curl'd head—alas, unduteous daughters—
Only look back, and then a garrulous band
Pursue their laughing way o'er all the land;
Lists how the sighing, oft-returning air
Soft prattles to the leafy tresses fair;
With what sweet whispers it accosts the tree,
Which with bow'd head makes answer murmuringly;
Lists, lists again, while through the mournful shade
Sad Philomel's pathetic plaint is made.
Now chiefly Venus spreads her empire sweet,
And calls the world to worship at her feet;
Now mightier her soft reins shakes to and fro,
Chiding, and makes her chariot faster go;
More fiery bids her cestus' powers abound,
And her warm swelling bosom girds around;
More glorious now, circl'd by Nymphs and Graces,
She marches forth, and to her chariot-traces
She yokes more swans. Nay, freer than before,
Her Loves themselves, the sunny meadows o'er,
From her maternal bosom see her pour;
A thousand horsemen sweet career around,
Ten thousand wanton footmen scour the ground;
Part mount the backs of wild beasts as they run,
And their own goad-like arrows ply in fun;
Part seek wing'd flight to urge with double speed,
And so ascend each one an airy steed;
One, vaulting on a sparrow, flits away;
Here see him lightly shine, there brightly play,
In no place long; now resting here, now yonder,
Wherever shadows woo them, lo, they wander.
One, rising mightier than her heavy reins,
His Mother's birds attempts with lighter chains.
One, bee-like, brave o'erthrows an angry bee,
Only another self in him to see;
In tiny circles they awhile revolve,
But soon their interlacing flight dissolve.
Part, lightly flitting o'er the meadows fair,
Strive their own lilies with meet rose to pair.
Now flowery tribes in fragrant counsel stand,
Amid the buds wantons the joyous band.
New glory on their shining pinions rests,
A golden harvest settles on their breasts;
With sweeten'd locks to odorous shades they go,
Their arrows, weapons harsh, away they throw,
While other arms their smiling quivers show.
Flowers in their hand, flowers in their breast, are seen,
On every side appears a flowery sheen.
One Love, reclin'd beside a glassy stream,
Admires the nature of the illusive gleam,
The liquid likeness of his wavering face,
And tremulous deceit of imag'd grace.
Thence, his own rays examining, he tries
And fashions, as the Nymph may chance advise,
That braver fires may tremble in his eyes;
His mobile face new lightnings flashes far,
With rays more wanton, bickering like a star. R. Wi.

PRISCIANUS VERBERANS ET VAPULANS.

The two following poems—somewhat out of character, so to say, with Crashaw—were probably prepared for a tractate, which it has been our good fortune to hap on in the Bodleian. It is a Latin burlesque Poem, filling a small 4to of 20 pages, with this title:

En
Priscianus
Verberans
et
Vapulans.
Jam publicato verberans aures stylo
Qua penis iterum vapulet, metuit crisin.
Londini Excudebat Augustinus Mathewes impensis
Roberti Mulbourne ad insigne
Canis venatici in coemeterio Paulino. 1632.

The words 'Priscianus Verberans et Vapulans' remind us of the once-famous 'Comoedia' of Nicodemus Freschlin; but the later poem shows no reminiscence of the earlier. These details will doubtless interest and amuse in relation to Crashaw's pieces. Priscianus, otherwise Nisus, a schoolmaster, whips a boy who broke and dirtied his whipping-horse, and the boy's parents bring an action against him for assault. The place is evidently Aldborough in Suffolk—illumined by the genius of Crabbe—and the name of the boy's family Coleman. The poem thus begins and proceeds—the marginal notes being placed at the bottom of our pages:

Pinguibus in populi, qui dicitur Austricus,[101] arvis
Praeturam, fasces, lictores nuper adepta
Villa[102] antiqua, novo jam Burgi turget honore.

He describes the school:

Vicinae senior Carbonius[103] incola villae,
'Lingua vernacula idem quod ἀνθράκανδρος,

sends his son as a scholar: the stipend 20s. a year:

De stipe[103] consentit genitor: Carbunculus intrat.

He describes the whipping-block, the judicious use of which saves boys from the gallows:

Iste caballus
the Trojan Non in perniciem, non urbis ut ille ruinam
Sed curam imberbis populi, regimenque salubre:
A triplici ligno[104] lignum hoc penate tuetur
Praecipitem aetatem.

Young Coleman plays truant from school, and one day, when the school is empty, breaks and defiles the horse. He openly boasts of his feat, and returning another day to repeat his misdeed, is caught by Nisus, who mounts him on the injured horse, which, by poetical license, is made to whinny with content. The youth expects twenty cuts, and receives four:

Quattuor[105] inflixit tantum mediocriter ictus,
Plures optet equus, plures daret arbiter aequus.

Coleman senior calls on the Schoolmaster, who remarks that payment for his son's schooling is in arrear. Coleman returns with Mrs. Coleman, and demands a receipt for the payment, which he makes, as Nisus discovers, lest a counter-action be brought against him:

Vult sibi ut absolvens[106] accepti latio detur
Consignata manu Nisi, atque a teste probata.

Then Mrs. Coleman shows herself deserving of the cucking-stool:

..... bona Carbonissa
Inque caput Nisi cumulata opprobria plaustro
Digna et rixivomas sub aquis mersante[107] cathedra,
Quinetiam manibus quasi pugnatura lacessit.

They bring their action for assault. (The English words in the marginal notes, placed below, are in black-letter:)

Nulla mora est, juristam adhibent, de fonte dicarum
Qui populo Placita ad Communia[108] panditur, exit
Schedula quod vulgo[109] Regis Breve dicitur: illo
Mox capitur Nisus, geminoque sub obside spondet
In responsurum praescripto tempore: tempus
Cunctarum[110] lux est animarum crastini. Verum
Actor quis?[111] Puer ipse, virum qui provocat, annos
Nondum bis-senos superans. Sed et actio quaenam?
Quid crimen? Pravus atque atrox injuria, tristes
Et tragicae ambages, ampullae sesquipedales,
Quod[112] Regis contra pacem vi Nisus, et armis
Insultum fecit, male tractans verbere saevo
Verberibus diris adeo, plenisque pericli
De pueri vita ut desperaretur.

The poem ends, leaving poor Nisus in the midst of his first law-suit:

Ecce
Nisus, jam primum Nisus miser ambulat in jus:

and the marginal note is 'In causis litigiosis sive casibus inscriptionum stylus Johannes de Stiles versus Johannem de Nokes.' A concluding chronogram gives the year 1629:

LVDI MagIster LIte VeXatVr forI.

The Schoolmaster's friends have written him complimentary epigrams, which are prefixed to his poem. One is worth reproducing, ae it has an echo of Crashaw's:

Ad κοπροχρυσοῦντα
Suavia nonnulli lutulento carmine narrant:
Turpia tu nitido, Nise poeta, places.

In black-letter, as follows:

Some cloath faire tales in sluttish eloquence:
Thy tale is foule, thy verse is frankincense.

T. Lovering Artium Ludiq. Magister.

There seems little doubt that Crashaw's two poems were born of this anonymous tractate. Cf. 'rixivomas' (p. 310) with 'vomitivam' and 'rixosa volumina linguae.' Biographically they and others secular have a special interest and value. My good friend Rev. Richard Wilton, as before, has very happily translated these playthings. G.

Quid facis? ah, tam perversa quid volvitur ira?
Quid parat iste tuus, posterus iste furor?
Ah, truculente puer, tam foedo parce furori.
Nec rapiat tragicas tam gravis ira nates.
Ecce fremit, fremit ecce indignabundus Apollo.
Castalides fugiunt, et procul ora tegunt.
Sic igitur sacrum, sic insedisse caballum
Quaeris? et, ah, fieri tam male notus eques?
Ille igitur phaleris nitidus lucebit in istis?
Haec erit ad solidum turpis habena latus?
His ille, haud nimium rigidis, dabit ora lupatis?
Haec fluet in miseris sordida vitta jubis?
Sic erit ista tui, sic aurea pompa triumphi?
Ille sub imperiis ibit olentis heri?
Ille tamen neque terribili stat spumeus ira;
Ungula nec celso fervida calce tonat.
O merito spectatur equi patientia nostri!
Dicite Io, tantum quis toleravit equus?
Pegasus iste ferox, mortales spretus habenas.
Bellerophontaea non tulit ire manu.
Noster equus tamen exemplo non turget in isto:
Stat bonus, et solito se pede certus habet.
Imo licet tantos de te tulit ille pudores,
Te tulit ille iterum, sed meliore modo.
Tunc rubor in scapulas O quam bene transiit iste,
Qui satis in vultus noluit ire tuos!
At mater centum in furias abit, et vomit iram
Mille modis rabidam jura, forumque fremit.
Quin fera tu taceas; aut jura forumque tacebunt:
Tu legi vocem non sinis esse suam.
O male vibratae rixosa volumina linguae,
Et satis in nullo verba tonanda foro!
Causidicos, vesana! tuos tua fulmina terrent.
Ecce stupent miseri, ah, nec meminere loqui.
Hinc tua, foede puer, foedati hinc terga caballi
Exercent querulo jurgia lenta foro.
Obscaenas lites, et olentia jurgia ridet
Turpiter in causam sollicitata Themis.
Juridicus lites quisquis tractaverit istas,
O satis emuncta nare sit ille, precor,
At tu de misero quid vis, truculente, caballo?
Cur premis insultans, saeve, tyranne puer!
Tene igitur fugiet? fugiet sacer iste caballus?
Non fugiet, sed, si vis, tibi terga dabit.[113]

TRANSLATION.

PRISCIANUS BEATING AND BEING BEATEN.

What wouldest thou? why rolls thy wayward ire?
What means that rage of thine dirty and dire?
Ah, savage boy, such fury foul forbear,
Nor let thy wrath those tragic buttocks tear.
Apollo, all indignant, groans and sighs;
The Muses flee, and hide them from thine eyes.
Thus dost thou seek to sit the sacred steed?
Thus to become a horseman fam'd indeed!
In such adornment shall he brightly shine?
His firm flank lash'd by this base whip of thine?
His mouth to this loose bit shall he deliver?
O'er his poor mane this filthy fillet quiver?
In golden triumph thus shalt thou proceed,
So rank a lord bestriding such a steed?
Yet foaming with dire rage he does not stand,
Nor with hot hoof go thundering o'er the land.
Our horse's patience is a wond'rous sight!
O, say, what horse before endur'd such wight?
Old Pegasus, despising mortal sway,
Bellerophon's strong hand disdain'd to obey:
And yet with no such rage swells this our horse;
Quiet he stands, and holds his wonted course.
Nay, though he bore such shame from thee that day,
Again he bore thee—in a better way!
Then to thy shoulders fitly pass'd the blush,
Which to thy countenance refus'd to rush.
His mother furious raves and wildly splutters
A thousand spites, and of the law-courts mutters.
Peace, woman! or the law-courts thou wilt awe;
Thou dost not leave its own voice to the Law.
O fractious eddies of the brandish'd tongue,
Such words as in no law-court ever rung.
Thy very lawyers from thy thunders hide:
Lo, they forget to speak, as stupefied.
Thus, thus, foul boy, thy fouled horse's hide
By wrangling law-court's tedious strife is plied.
While Justice, summon'd to a cause so vile,
Views the rank strife obscene with scornful smile.
Whatever judge such nasty action tries,
See that he blow his nose well, I advise.
But why wouldst thou, cruel, tyrannic boy,
With thy insulting weight that horse annoy?
That sacred steed, will it, then, from thee flee?—
'Twill not turn tail, but lend its back to thee! R. Wi.

AD LIBRUM

SUPER HAC RE AB IPSO LUDI MAGISTRO EDITUM, QUI DICITUR 'PRISCIANUS VERBERANS ET VAPULANS.'