The Parliament of Bees Day, John This text is an enriched version of the TCP digital transcription A37285 of text R221471 in the English Short Title Catalog (Wing D466). Textual changes and metadata enrichments aim at making the text more computationally tractable, easier to read, and suitable for network-based collaborative curation by amateur and professional end users from many walks of life. The text has been tokenized and linguistically annotated with MorphAdorner. The annotation includes standard spellings that support the display of a text in a standardized format that preserves archaic forms ('loveth', 'seekest'). Textual changes aim at restoring the text the author or stationer meant to publish. Martin Mueller Incompletely or incorrectly transcribed words were reviewed and in many cases fixed by Madeline Burg This text has not been fully proofread EarlyPrint Project Evanston IL, Notre Dame IN, St.Louis, Washington MO 2017 Distributed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 3.0 Unported License A37285.xml The parliament of bees, with their proper characters. Or a bee-hive furnisht with twelve hony-combes, as pleasant as profitable. Being an allegoricall description of the actions of good and bad men in these our daies. By John Daye, sometimes student of Caius Colledge in Cambridge. Day, John, 1574-1640? 28 600dpi TIFF G4 page images University of Michigan, Digital Library Production Service Ann Arbor, Michigan 2007 October (TCP phase 1) 99832773 Wing (2nd ed., 1944) D466. 37247 A37285

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 The parliament of bees, with their proper characters. Or a bee-hive furnisht with twelve hony-combes, as pleasant as profitable. Being an allegoricall description of the actions of good and bad men in these our daies. By John Daye, sometimes student of Caius Colledge in Cambridge. Parliament of bees Parliament of bees with their proper characters Bee-hive furnisht with twelve hony-combes, as pleasant as profitable Day, John, 1574-1640? [64] p. : ill. (woodcut) printed for William Lee, and are to be sold at his shop in Pauls Church-yard neere Pauls Chaine, London : 1641. 1611

Signatures: [A]2 B-G4 H2.

In verse.

Annotation in MS. on title page: "First edition".

Copy cropped, stained, inlaid, with heavy print show-through.

Reproduction of the original in the Henry E. Huntington Library and Art Gallery.

 Great Britain -- Politics and government -- 1625-1649 -- Humor -- Early works to 1800. Great Britain -- Politics and government -- 16256-1649 -- Poetry -- Early works to 1800. England and Wales -- Parliament -- Humor -- Early works to 1800. England and Wales -- Parliament -- Poetry -- Early works to 1800. A37285 shc The Parliament of Bees Day, John Madeline Burg 1634 play dialogue shc no A37285 R221471 (Wing D466). 13033 3 0 0 0002.3B The rate of 2.3 defects per 10,000 words puts this text in the B category of texts with fewer than 10 defects per 10,000 words. Incorporated ~ 10,000 textual changes made to the SHC corpus by Hannah Bredar, Kate Needham, and Lydia Zoells between April and July 2015 during visits, separately or together, to the Bodleian, Folger and Houghton Libraries as well as the Rare Book Libraries at Northwestern University and the University of Chicago

THe Parliament is held , Bils and Complaints Heard and reform'd , with severall restraints Of usurpt freedome ; instituted Law To keepe the Common-Wealth of Bees in awe .

THE PARLIAMENT OF BEES , With their proper Characters .

OR A Bee-hive furnisht with twelve Hony-combes , as Pleasant as Profitable .

Being an Allegoricall description of the actions of good and bad men in these our daies .

By IOHN DAYE , Sometimes Student of Caius Colledge in Cambridge .

OVIDIVS .

— Mihi Flavus Apollo Pocula Castaliae plena ministret Aquae .

LONDON : Printed for William Lee , and are to be sold at his shop in Pauls Church-yard neere Pauls Chaine . 1641 .

To the worthy Gentleman Mr. George Butler professor of the Arts Liberall , And true Patron to Neglected Poesie , All Health and Happinesse . Worthy Sir ,

I May be thought bold , if not impudent , ( upon so little acquaintance ) to make this sawcy trespasse upon your patience ; But fame , whose office , ( like the Nomenclators at Rome ) is to to take notice and proclaime the Name and vertues of every Noble Personage , has given you out for so Ingenuous a professor of the Arts , & so bountiful a patron of poor schollars it has imboldned me , to present my Hive of Bees to your favourable protection ; and when I remember how Lewis the eleventh ( of that Name ) King of France tooke notice , & bountifully rewarded a decay'd Gardiner , who presēted him with a bunch of Carrets , I doubt not of their kinde and generous entertainment ; upon which assurance I rest ever .

Yours in all service devote . JOHN DAY .
The Arguments of the 12. Characters or Colloquies .
Prorex . Character 1. Or the Mr. Bee . THe Parlament is held , Bils and Complaints Heard and reform'd , with severall restraints Of usurpt freedome , instituted Law , To keepe the Common-wealth of Bees in awe .
Elimozinas . Char. 2. Or the Hospitable Bee . THe Author in his Russet Bee , Characters Hospitality , Describes his Hive , and for his feasts Appoints fit dayes , and names his guests .
Thraso . Char. 3. Or the Plush Bee . INvention here doth Character A neere vaine-glorious Reveller : Who scornes his kindred , grindes the Poore , Hunts only Ryot and his ( why not ) .
Armiger . Char. 4. Or the field Bee . THe Poet under Armiger , Shadowes a souldiers Character , His worth , the Courteous coy neglect , His Pen doth sparingly Detect .
Rivales . Char. 5. TWo Rivall Bees doe here expresse , Good things grow loathsome through excesse : Flowers , in the Spring trod under feet , In winter would be counted sweet .
Poetaster , Char. 6. HEre Invention aimes his drift , At Poets wants , and Patrons thrift : Servile scorne , and Ignorant Pride He spurnes and justly doth deride .
Parcimonious . Char. 7. The thrifty Bee . THe thrifty Bee , that hoards up waxe , The idle Loyterer here doth taxe : Who toyles not whilst his strength doth serve , May with * Cicada sing , yet sterve — The Grashopper .
Foenerator . Char. 8. The broaking Bee . IN this the Poet lineats forth , That bounty feeds desert and worth : Brands vsury , inveighs 'gainst bribes , And Fenerators hive describes .
Pharmacopolis . Char. 9. The Quacksalver THis Colloquie is characters Of an impestvuous Quacksalver : Who , to steale practise , and to vent His drugs would buy a Patient .
Inamorato . Char. 10. The Passionate Bee . IN this the Poet spends some Art , To character a Lovers smart : Who for a sigh his love let fall , Prepares a solemne Funerall .
Obron in progresse . Char. 11. Obron in progresse . OBron his royall progresse makes , To Hybla where he gives and takes Presents , and priviledges , Bees Of worth he crownes with offices .
Rexacillium Char. 12. The Kings bench Barre . OBron in his Starchamber sits , Sends out Sub-paenas , high Court writs : For the swarme of Bees , Degradeth some , Frees others , all share Legall summe .
The Authors Commission to his Bees . ABroad my pretty Bees : I hope you l find Neither rough tempest , nor commanding winde To check your flight , carry an humble wing , Buzze boldly what I bid , but doe not sting Your generous Patron : wheresoere you come Feede you on waxe , leave them the Honey-combe : Yet if you meet a tart Antagonist , ( Or discontented rugged Satyrist ) That sleights your Errant , or his Art that pendit , Cry , Tanti : Bid him kisse his Muse — and mend it : If then they Meawe , reply not you , but bring Their names to me , I le send out Waspes shall sting Their Malice to the quick ; If they cap words , Tell 'em your Master is a twisting cord's Shall make pride skip ; if I must needs take paines , 'T shall be to draw blood from Detractions vaines , Tho shevelld like Parchment , Art can make em bleed , And what I vow , Apollo has decreed : Your whole commission in one line 's enrowld , Be valiantlie free , but not too bold . Iohn Day .
The Booke to the Reader . IN my commission I am charg'd to greet And mildly kisse the hands of all I meet , Which I must doe , or never more be seene About the Fount of sacred Hippocreene . Smooth sockt Thalia takes delight to dance i th' Schooles of Art , the doore of ignorance Shee sets a Crosse on ; Detractors shee doth scorne , Yet kneeles to Censure , ( so it be true borne ) I had rather fall into a Beadles hands That reads , and with his reading understands , Then some Plush-Midas , that can read no further But Bees ? whose penning ? mew , this man doth murther A writers credit and wrong'd poesie ( Like a rich Diamond dropt into the Sea ) Is by him lost for ever , quite through read me , Or 'mongst wast paper into Pastboard knead me , Presse me to death , so tho your churlish hands Rob me of life , I le save my paper lands For my next heire , who with Poetick breath May in sad Elegie record my death . If so : I wish my Epitaph may be Onely three words , Opinion murdered me . Liber Lectori Candido .
The Parlament of Bees .
Character 1 : Prorex , or the Master Bees Character . A Parliament is held , Bils and complaints Referd and heard , with severall restraints Of usurpt freedome , Instituted law , To keepe the common wealth of Bees in awe . Speakers . Prorex , Aulicus , Oeconomicus , Dicastes , Speaker : Prorex . TO us , who warranted by Obrons love , Write our selfe Mr. Bee , both field and grove , Garden and Orchard , lawnes & flowrie meades , Where th' amorous winde plaies with the golden heads Of wanton Cowslips , Dasies in their prime , Some loving Marigolds , the blossom'd Thyme , The blew-veind Violets , and the Damask rose , The statelie Lilly , mistris of all those , Are allowd and given by Obrons free areede , Pasture for me and all my swarmes to feed . Now that our will and soveraigne intent , May be made knowne , wee call this parliament , And as the wise determiner of power , Proportion , time to moments , minutes , houres , Weeks , months , years , ages , distinguish'd day from night Winter from Summer , profunditie from height In Sublunaries , as in the course of Heaven The bodies Metaphysicall runne even , Zeniths and Zones have their apt stations , Planets and Starres their Constellations , With Orbes to move in , so divinely made Some spherically move , some retrograde , Yet all keepe course ; so shall it be our care That every Family have his proper Spheare . And to that purpose , Auticus be groome O fall our lodgings , and provide fit roome To lay in wax & Honey , both for us And all our houshold : Oeconomicus , Be you our steward , carefully to fit Quotidian diet , and so order it , Each may have equall portion : And beside Needfull provision , carefully provide Store against warre and Famine : Martio thee I have found valiant , thy authority ( Beeing approv'd for Discipline in armes ) Shall be to muster up our warlike swarmes Of winged lances , for like a peacefull King , Although we were , we are loath to use our sting . Speaker , informe us what petitions Our Commons put up at these Sessions .

A bill preferd against the Humble Bee .

Speaker . A Bill preferd , against a publique wrong : The surly Humble Bee , who hath too long Liv'd like an Out-law , and will neither pay Honey nor waxe , doe service , nor obey ) But like a fellon coucht under a weed Watches advantage to make boot and feed Vpon the top-branch blossomes , and by stealth Makes dangerous inroads on your common-wealth , Robs the day-labourer of his golden prize And sends him weeping home , with emptie thighes . Thus like a theefe , he flies ore hill and downe And Out-law-like doth challenge as his owne Your Highnes due , nay Pyratick detaines The waxen fleet sailing upon your plaines . Prorex . A great abuse , which we must have redrest Before it growes to high : on too the rest .

A bill preferd against the Waspe .

Speaker . A bill preferd against the Waspe ; a Flie Who Merchant-like under pretence to buy Makes bold to borrow , and paies too . Pro: But when ? Speaker . Why ad Kalendas Graecas , never then .

A bill against the Hornet .

Speaker . There 's the strange Hornet , who doth ever weare A scalie armor , and a double Speare , Coucht in his front , rifles the Merchants packs Upon the Rhode , your honey and your waxe He doth by stealth transport to some strange shoare , Makes rich their hives , and keeps your own groves poor . Prorex . I thanke your Industrie , but we 'l devise A statute that no such Out-landish flies Shall carry such high wing :

A bill preferd against the Drone :

Speaker . Yet these alone Doe not afflict us , but the lazie droane Our native country Bee , who like the Snaile ( That bankrowt-like makes his owne shell his jayle All the day long ) i th' evening plaies the thief , And when the labouring Bees have tane reliefe , Be gone to rest , against all right and lawe Acts burglary , breakes ope their house of straw , And not alone makes pillage of their hives ; But ( Butcher-like ) bereaves them of their lives . Prorex . 'Gainst all these Out-lawes . Martio bee thou Lievetenant Generall , thou knowst well how To hamper such Delinquents . Dicastes thee We make our advocate , thy office be To moderate each difference and jar In this our civill Oeconomicke war , And let both plaintife , and defendant be Heard and dispatcht for conscionable fee And more to keepe our Anomoi in awe Our selfe ( the chiefe ) will live under a law . Dicast. To each desert I le render lawfull weight , The scale of justice shall use no deceipt : Prorex . It looses name and nature , if it shud , Next Villicus , thou that frequentst the wood Our painefull russet Bee , we create thee Chiefe baylife both of fallow-field and lee ? Appoint each Bee his walke , the medow-bee Shall not encroach upon the upland lee , But keepe his bound , if any with intent To wrong our state flye from our government , Hoarding their hony up in rocks or trees , Sell or transport it to our enemies , Breake downe their Garners , seise upon their store , And in our name divide it 'mongst the poore , Onely to us reserve our royalties , High waies and wastes , all other specialties We make thee ruler of Vill : and I le impart To all with a free hand and faithfull heart : Pro. Now break up Court , and each one to his toyle , Thrive by your labours , drones live a' the spoyle , Feare neither Waspe , nor Hornet , forreyners Be bard from being intercommoners , And having laboured hard from light to light , With golden thighes , come singing home at night , For neither Droane , Waspe , Fly nor Humble-Bee , Shall dare to rob you of your treasury . So to your Summer harvest , worke and thrive Bounti 's the blessing of the labourers hive .
Eleemozynus . Character . 2. The Hospitable Bee . THe Author in his Russet Bee , Characters Hospitalitie , Describes his hive ; and for his feasts Appoints fit daies , and names his guests . Speakers . Eleemozynus . Cordato . Cordato : Your hiv 's a rare one , Rome did never raise A work of greater wonder . Eleemozynus . Spare your praise , T is finish'd , and the cost stands on no score , None can for want of payment , at my dore Curse my foundation ; seeing the smoake goe Out of those lovers , for whose straw I owe . Cordato . Why to your hive have ye so many waies ? Elemozynus . They answer just the number of seven dais , On Mondayes such , whose fortunes are sunck lowe , By good houskeeping , I le my almes bestow . On Tewsdaies such as all their life-times wrought Their countries freedome , and her battailes fought ; On Wedensdaies , such as with painfull wit Have div'd for knowledge in the sacred writ ; On Thursdayes such as prov'd unfortunate In Counsell , and high offices of state ; On Fridayes such as for their Conscience sake Are kept in bonds ; on Saturdaies I le make Feasts for poore Bees past labour , Orphane frie And widdowes ground in Mils of usury . And Sundayes for my Tenants and all Swaines That labour for me on the groves and plaines . The windowes of my hive , with blossomes dight Are Porters to let in ( our comfort ) light , In number just six hundred , sixtie five , 'Cause in so many daies the Sunne doth drive His Chariot ( stucke with beames of burnish'd gold , ) About the world by Sphericall Motion rowld , For my almes shall diurnall progresse make With the free sunne in his bright Zodiacke . Cordato : Some Bees set all their Tenants on the Rack Not to feed bellyes , but to cloath the backe . Eleemo. I with their actions hold no Sympathie , Such eat the poore up , but the poore eat me . Cor. And you 'l performe all this ? Eleem. Faire & upright As are the strict vowes of an Anchorite , An almes that by a Niggards hand is serv'd Is mold and gravelly bread , the hunger-sterv'd May take , but cannot eat : I le deale none such Who with free hand shakes out but Crums , gives much . Cordato . You 'l have bad helps in this good course of life , You might doe therefore well to take a wife . Eleemo. A wife ? when I should have one hand in Heaven To write my happinesse ( in leaves as even And smooth as Porphyry ) shee 'd by the other Plucke me quite downe , vertue scarce knowes a mother . Pardon sweet Females , I your Sex admire , But dare not sit too neare your wanton fire , Fearing your fairer beauties tempting flame My sound affections might put out of frame .

In like manner said Alexander by the daughters of Drius .

Nescio quid latentis veneni habet caro foeminea , Vt prudentiores citius corrumpat .

Card. Who then shall reap the golden crop you sow ? T is halfe a curse t' have wealth , and not to knowe Whom to call heire . Eleemo: My heirs shall be the poor Bees wanting limbs , such as in daies of yore Pend learned Canzons , for no other meed , But that in them unletterd Bees might reade , And reading lay up knowledge , being alive Such I le maintaine , and being dead my hive Honey and waxe I will bequeath to build A skep where weekely meetings may be held To read and heare such ancient morall sawes As may teach ignorance the use of lawes ; And these will be a true Inheritance , Not to decay , neither sword , fire , nor chance , Thunder of Iove , nor mundane Casualties Can ruin the succession of these : Mannors , Parkes , Townes , nay Kingdomes may be sold , But still the poore stand like a Lords free-hold Vnforfeited ; of all lawe-tricks not one Can throw the poor out of possession : Should I loose all my hives and waxen wealth , Out of the poore mans dish I should drink health , Comfort and blessings , therefore keepe aloofe And tempt no further , whilst I live my Roofe Shall cover naked wretches , when I dye I le dedicate it to Saint Charity .
Character 3. Thraso or Polypragmus . The Plush Bee . INvention here doth Character A meere vaineglorious Reveller , Who scornes his equals , grindes the Poore Hunts onely Ryots , and his ( : : ) Speakers . Polypragmus . Servant . Poly. The Roome smels : foh , stand off , yet stay dee hear , O' th sawcy Sun , which mounted in our spheare , Strives to out-shine us ? Ser: So the poor Bees hum . Pol: Poor Bees ? potguns , Illegitimate scum And bastard flies , taking adulterate shape From reeking dunghils , if that medling ape Zanying my greatnesse , dares but once presume To vie expence with me , I will consume His whole hive in a month . Say you that sawe His new-raisd frame , how is it built ? Ser. Of straw Dyed in quaint colours , here and there a rowe Of Indian bents , which make a handsome showe . Poly. How , straw and bents , sayst ? I will have one built Like Pompeys Theatre , the seeling guilt And enterseam'd with Pearle , to make it shine Like high Ioves palace , my descents divine . My great Hall I have pav'd with Clouds , which done ( By wondrous skill ) an Artificiall Sun Shall rowle about , reflecting golden beames , Like Phebus dancing on the wanton streames , And when t is night , iust as that Sun goes downe I le have the Stars draw up a silver Moon , In her full height of glorie , over head A roof of woods , and Forrests I le have spread . Tree's growing down-wards , full of Fallow-deare , When of the sudaine ( listning ) you shall heare A noise of Hornes , and hunting , which shall bring Acteon to Diana in the spring , Where all shall see her naked skin : and there Acteons hounds shall their owne Master teare , As Embleme of his follie that will keepe Hounds to devoure and eat him up asleepe . All this I le doe , that men with praise may crowne My fame for turning the world upside-downe , And what plush Bees sit at this Flesh-flies Table . Ser. None but poore lame ones and the ragged rabble . Poly: My board shall be no manger for scabd Jades , To lick up provender , no Bee that trades Sucks Hony there . Ser. poore schollers . Poly: Beg & sterve , Or steale and hang , what can such rogues deserve ? Gallowes and Gibbets , hang e'm : give me Lutes Vials and Clarions , such Musicke suites Schollers like common Beadles , lash the times , Whip our abuse , and fetch blood of our crimes , Let him feed hungry Schollers , fetch me whores , They are mans blisse , the other Kingdomes sores : We gave in charge to seeke the grove for Bees Comming in Cookerie , and rare qualities And wanton females , that sell sin for gold . Ser: Some of all sorts you have . Pol. They are stale and old I have seen 'em twice . Ser: We have multiplied your store Vnto a thousand . Pol. More , let me have more Then the Grand signior . And my change as rare Tall , low , and middle-siz'd , the browne and faire . I de give a Prince his ransome now to tast Black Cleopatras cheek , only to wast A richer pearle then that of Anthonyes , That fame might write up my name and race his . Oh that my mother had been Paris whore , And I might live to burne down Troy once more , So that by that brave light I might have ran At barly-brake with my sleek curtezan . Yet talk'st of Schollers ? see my face no more . Let the Portcullis downe and bolt the doore . But one such tattered ensigne here being spread Would draw in numbers , here shall my rogues be fed ; Charge our Mechanicke Bees to make things meet To manacle base beggars hands and feet , And call it Polypragmus whipping post Or th' beggars ordinary , they shal tast my roast . And if ye spie a Bee that has a looke , Stigmaticall , drawne out like a blacke booke , Full of Greeke {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman} ; to such I le give large pay , To watch and warde for poor Bees night and day , And lash 'em soundly if they approach my gate , Whipcord 's my bounty , and the rogues shall ha 't . The poore are but the earths dung fit to lye Cover'd in muck-heaps , not offend our eye . Thus in your bosomes Jove his bounty flings What are gold Mynes , but a rich dust for Kings To scatter with their breath , as chaffe with winde . Let me then that have gold , beare a Kings minde And give till my arme akes , who bravely powres But into a wenches lap such golden showres , May be Ioves equall , there his ambition ends In obscure Rivalship , but he that spends A world of wealth , makes a whole world his debtor , And such a noble spender is Ioves better : That man I le be , I 'm Alexanders heire To one part of his minde , I wish there were Ten worlds , Sir . How for to conquer ? Pol. No to sell For Alpine hils of silver , I could well Husband that Merchandize , provided I Might at one feast draw all that treasure dry . Who hoards up wealth is base , who spends it brave . Earth breeds gold , so I tread but on my slave Ser. Oh wonderfull ! yet let all wonder passe Hee s a great Bee , and a vain-glorious asse .
Character 4. Armiger . The field Bee . THe Poet under Armiger Shadowes a souldiers Character His worth , the Courtiers coy neglect His pen doth sparingly detect . Speakers . Armiger . Donne . Cocadillio . Prorex . Arm: Is Master Bee at leasure to speak Spanish With a Bee of service ? Don. No . Arm. Smoaked Pilcher vanish : Proud Don with th' oaker face , I 'de but desire To meet thee on a breach midst smoak and fire , And for Tobacco , whiffing Gunpowder Out of a brasen pipe , that should puffe lowder Then thunder roares , there ( though illiterate Dawe ) Thou nere couldst spell , thou shouldst reade Canon law . How the Iades prance in golden trappings , ho ? Is master Bee at leasure . Don: What to doe ? Arm: To heare a souldier speake . Don: I cannot tell , I am no eare-picker . Are: Yet you heare well , Ye' ar of the Court ? Don: The Mr. Bees chief barbour . Arm. Then Don you li'd , you are an eare-picker . Don. Wel , if thou commest to beg a suit at Court , I shall descend so low , as to report Thy paper businesse : Arm. I beg proud Don , I scorne to scrible : my petition Is written on my bosome in red wounds . Don. I am no Surgeon Sir : Alloone . Arm. Base hounds ! Thou god of gay aparrell , what strange lookes Make suit to do thee service ? Mercers bookes Shew mens devotions to thee , Hell cannot holde A Fiend more stately : my acquaintance sold , Cause poore ? stood now my beaten taylor by me , Pleiting of my rich hose , my silke-mannye me , Drawing upon my Lords-ships Courtly calfe Payers of embroydered stockings , or but halfe A dozen things cald creditors , had my Barber Perfum'd my lowzy thatch ( this nitty harbour ) These pi'd-wingd Butterflies wud know me than , But they nere landed in the I le of Man . That such a thing as this , a decoy flye Should buzze about the eare of Royalty , Such whale-bon'd bodied rascals , that owe more To Linnen-drapers , to new vampe a whore , Then all their race from their grand beldame foorth To this their raigne in cloaths were ever worth , That such should tickle a commanders eare With flatterie , when we must not come neare , But stand ( for want of cloaths ) tho we win townes Amongst almsbasket men , such silken clownes When wee with bloud deserve , share our reward We held scarce fellow-mates to the blacke guard ; Why shold a souldier being the worlds right arme Be cut off by the left ? ( infernall charme ) Is the world all ruffe and feather ? is desart Bastard ? doth custome cut of his childs part No difference twixt a wilde goose and a swan , A Taylor and a true borne gentleman ? So the world thinkes , but search the Heralds notes , And you shall finde much difference in their coates . Pro: A field Bee speak with me ? bold Armiger , Welcome , thy bosome is a register Of thy bold Acts : vertue 's still poore I see . Armi. Poore ? rich : Pro. In scars : Arm. In wealth , in honesty . Since I first read my ABC of warre , In nine set fields I sayld by that bright star , Ere I was tronchion high , I had the stile Of beardlesse Captaine , and I all this while Drild under honesty , neare purst dead pay , Never made weeke the longer by a day . A souldier dead , his pay did likewise dye , And still I serv'd one Generall honesty . From his owne trencher I was daily fed With Canon bullets , taught to chewe steele and lead , Nay digest Iron , and when ere I dye I le have no Epitaph but honesty Writ over me . Pro. I know it , thou blacke Swan , I have seene this Bee , ( in his fate more then man ) Write in the field such stories with his sting , That our best leaders reading ore his writing Swore t was a new philosophie of fighting , His acts were so remarkable in one field Fought gainst the surly waspe , ( I needs must yeeld Desart his due , ) having bruizd my filmy wing , And in fierce combat blunted my keene sting ( Beaten into a tuft of Rosemary ) This manly Bee ( armd with true honesty ) Three times that day redeem'd me , and bestrid My body with Colossus thighs , he did , Whilst all the thunder-bolts that war could throw At me , fell on his head he cannot now Chuse but be honest still , and valiant : still His hive with waxe and honey-combes I le fill , And in reward of thy bold chivalrie Make thee commander of a Colonie , Wishing all such as honour Discipline To serve him , and make honesty their shrine .
Character 5. Poetaster . Poeticall Bee . HEre Invention aymes his drift At Poets wants and patrons thrift , Servile scorne and Ignorant pride Free Judgement slightly doth deride . Speakers . Gnatho . Iltriste . Poetaster . Ilt: A Schollar speake with me ? Gn: He saies a Poet , I thinke no lesse for his apparrell show it , He 's of some standing , his cloath cloak is worne To a searge . Ilt: He 's poore , that proves his high things scorn Mundane felicitie , disdaines to flatter For empty ayre , or like crow poets chatter For great mens crums . But what 's his suite to me . Gn: To beg a dinner , old dame charity Lame of all fowre limps out , and sounds a Call For all the rogues . Ilt: Out sencelesse Animall , Hearing of my retirement , and the hate I beare to Court attendance , and high state , Hee 's come perhaps to write my Epitaph . Gn: Some lowzy ballad ? I cannot choose but laugh At these poor squitter pulps . Ilt: Thou ignorant elfe should he know this , hee 'd make thee hang thy selfe In strong Iambicks : G: what 's that hemp ? or flax ? Ilt: A halter stretch thee , such ill-tutord jacks Poyson the fame of Patrons , I shall I doubt me , be thought Jobs wife , I keepe such scabs about me . Seale up thy lips , and if thou needs must sinne , Doo 't privately , out spaniell , bring him in . Gn: He 's come : Poet : to you my love presents this book . Ilt. I am unworthy on 't . Except a hooke Hung at each line to choake me , stay what name Hast given thy brat ? To the most honoured Dame . Com'st lying into th' world ? be thy leaves torne , Rent , and us'd basely , as thy title 's borne ? Gn. Rare sport : no marveile if this poet begs For his lame verses , they 've nor feet nor legs . Po. Nor thou humanity . Ilt. Go burn this paper spright . Gn. Sir your darke Poetry will come to light : Poet. You are not noble , thus to wound the heart , Teare and make martyrs of the limbs of art , Before examination : Caesar taught No such Court doctrine , Alexander thought Better of Homers lofty Iliades , And hug'd their Mr. tho this , and such gald jades Were spurre-gald-hackneyes , kick at their betters , though Some hide-bound worldlings neither give , nor show Countenance to Poets : yet the noble spirit Loves vertue for it owne sake , and rewards merit Tho nere so meanly habited , nor Bee That frequents Hibla , takes more paines then wee Doe in our Canzons , yet they live and thrive Richly , when we want waxe to store our hive . Ilt: I honour Poesie , nor dislike I thee , Onely thy fawning title troubled me , I love your groves , and in your libraries , ( Amongst quaint odes , and passionate Elegies ) Have read whole volumes , of much injur'd dames Righted by poets ; assume thy brightest flames , And dip thy pen in worme wood-juyce for me , Canst write a satyre ? Tart authority Doe call 'em Libels : canst write such a one ? Poet: I can mixe inke , and copperesse . Ilt: So go on . Poet: Dare mingle poyson with 'em . Ilt: Do 't for me , Thou hast the theorie . Poet: Yes each line must be A corde to draw bloud . Ilt: Good . Poet. A ly to dare The stab from him it touches . Ilt: Better , rare . Poet: Such satyres , as you call 'em , must lance wide The wounds of mens corruptions , ope the side Of vice , search deep for dead flesh and ranck coars . A Poets inke can better cure some soars Then surgeons balsum . Ilt: Vndertake this cure , I le crowne thy paines with gold . Boet: I le do 't be sure , But I must have the parties Character . Ilt: The Mr : Bee . Poet. That thunder doth deter And fright my muse , I will not wade in ills Beyond my depth , nor dare I plucke the quils Of which I make pens , out of the Eagles claw . Know I am a loyall subject . Ilt: A jack-dawe . This basenesse followes your profession , You are like common beadles , easily wonne , To whip poore Bees to death ( scarce worth the striking , But fawne with slavish flatterie , and throw liking On great droanes vices , you clap hands at those Which proves your vices friends and vertues foes , Where the true Poet indeed doth scorne to guilde A cowards tombe with glories or to build A sumptuous Pyramid of golden verse Over the ruins of an ignoble herse . His lines like his invention are borne free , And both live blamelesse to eternity . He holds his reputation so deare , As neither flattering hope , nor servile feare Can bribe his pen to temporize with Kings , The blacker are his crimes , the lowder sings , Goe , goe thou dar'st not , canst not write , let me Invoke the helpe of sacred Poesie . May not a woman be a Poet ? Poet. Yes And learne the art with far more easinesse Then any man can doe , for Poesie Is but a feigning , feigning is to lye , And women studie that art more then men . Ilt. I am not fit to be a Poet then ; For I should leave off feigning and speak true . Poet. You 'l nere then make good Poet . Ilt: Very few , I thinke be good . Poet: I thinke so too . Ilt: Be plaine . How might I doe to hit the Mr. vaine Of Poesie ? Poet: I descend from Persius , He taught his pupils to breed Poets thus , To have their temples girt and swadled up With night-caps : To steale juyce from Hebees cup , To steepe their barren crownes in , pilfer clouds From off Parnassus top . To build them shrowds Of lawrell boughs to keepe invention green , Then drink nine healths of sacred Hippocreene To the nine muses , this sayes Perseus , Will make a Poet , I thinke cheper thus , Gold , musicke , wine , tobacco , and good cheere Make Poets soare aloft , and sing out cleare . Ilt. Are you born Poets ? Poet. Yes . Ilt. So dy . Poet. Dy never . Ilt: My miserie 's then a Poet , that lives ever , For time has lent it such eternity ; And ful succession it can never dye , How many sorts of Poets are there ? Poet: Two , Great and small Poets : Ilt: Great and small ones ? so Which doe you call the great ? the fat ones ? Poet: No , But such as have great heads which emptyed forth Fill all the world with wonder at their worth . Proud flies , swolne big with breath and windy praise , Yet merit brakes , and nettles stead of bayes . Such , title Cods , and Lobsters of arts Sea ; The small ones , call the shrimps of Poesie , The greater number of spawne feathered Bees Fly low like Kites , the other mount on trees , Those peck up dunghill garbadge , these drinke wine Out of Ioves cup : those mortall , these divine . Ilt: Who is the best Poet . Poet. Emulation , The next necessity ; but Detraction The worst of all . Ilt. Imagine I were one , What should I get by 't ? Poet. Why opinion . Ilt. I 've too much of that already , for t is known That in opinion I am overthrowne , Opinion is my evidence , Judge and jury , Opinion has betraid me to the furie Of vulgar scandall , partiall opinion Gapes like a Sheriffe for execution . I wonderd still how Schollars came undone , And now I see t is by opinion ; That foe to worth , sworn Enemy to art , Patron of ignorance , Hang man of desart , Aske any man what can betray a Poet To scandall ? base opinion shall doe it . I le therefore be no Poet , no nor make Ten muses of your nine , my reason take . Verses ( tho freemen borne , ) are bought and sold Like slaves ; their makers too , ( that merit gold ) Are fed with shalls : whence growes this slight regard ? From hence Opinion gives their reward .
Character 6. Rivales . INvention labours to discover The pretty passions of a lover , Shewing how in amorous fits , Long lost , a Bee may finde her wits . Speakers . Arethusa . Vlania . VVEll met faire beauty , pray you can you tell News of Meletus ? Vl. Such a Bee doth dwell , In my fathers hive , but aske you as a friend ? Areth. Yes , and as one who for his good would spend Living and life . Vla. Yet not so much as I . Areth: Why do you love him ? Vla. I 'm mine own echo , I , Areth: Wherfore ? Vla. I know not , there 's some fallacy , For not a Village fly , nor medow Bee That traffikes daily on the neighbour plaine , But will report how all the winged traine Have su'd to me for love , when we have flowne , In swarmes out to discover fields new blowne , Happy was he could finde the forwardst tree And cull the choicest blossomes out for me : Of all their labours they allowd me some And like my Champions mand me out , and home , Yet I lovd none of them , Philon a Bee Wel skild in verse and amorous Poesie , As we have sat at worke , both of one rose Has humd sweet canzons both in verse and prose , Which I nere minded , Astrophel a Bee ( Although not so poeticall as he ) Yet in his full invention quicke and ripe , In summer Evenings on his well-tun'd pipe Upon a woodbine blossome in the sunne ( Our hive being cleane swept and our daies work done ) Would play me twenty severall tunes , yet I Nor minded Astrophell , nor his melodie . Then there 's Amniter , for whose love faire Leade ( That pretty Bee ) flies up and downe the Mead With rivers in her eyes , without deserving Sent me trim Akron boughs of his owne carving , To drink May dew and Mead in ; yet none of these My hive-borne play fellows and neighbour bees Could I affect , untill this strange Bee came , And him I love with such an ardent flame Discretion cannot quench . Areth: Now I begin To love him , fresh examples ushers sin , How doth he spend his time ? Vla. Labours and toyles , Extracts more honey out of barren soyles Then twenty lazie droans , I have heard my father Steward of the hive professe , that he had rather Loose halfe the swarme then him ; if a bee poor or weak Grow faint on 's way , or by mis-fortune break A wing or leg against a twig ; alive Or dead , hee 'l bring into the Mrs. Hive Him and his burthen ; but the other day On the next plaine , there grew a mortall fray Betwixt the waspes and us , the wind grew high , And a rough storme rag'd so impetously , Our bees could scarce keep wing , then fel such raine , It made our Colonie forsake the plaine , And fly to garrison , yet still he stood And 'gainst the whole swarme made his party good , And at each blow he gave , cryed out his vow , His vow and Arethusa , on each bough And tender blossome he ingraves her name , With his sharpe sting , to Arethusaes fame He consecrates his actions , all his worth Is only spent to character her forth . On damaske roses and the leaves of pynes I have seene him write such amorous moving lines , In Arethusaes praise , as my poore heart Have when I read them , envied her desert , And wept and sighd to thinke that he should be To her so constant , yet not pitty me . Areth. Oh . Vla. Wherfore sigh you ? Areth. Amoratho . Oh My marble heart melts . Vla. What sigh & weep you too ? Areth. Yes in meere pitty that your churlish fate Should for true love make you unfortunate . Vla. I thanke you , what this Arethusa is I do not know , only my suit is this , If you doe know this Bee , when you next meet him ( Hee s labouring in that mead , ) In my name greet him , And tell him that I love him more , far more Then Arethusa can , nay I adore His memorie so , that he shall be my Saint ; And when his tender limbs grow weak and faint , I le doe his labour and mine own , the spring Being dry grows much unfit for labouring . To prevent famine and a sudaine dearth , For his sake I le befriend the barren earth And make it fruitful with a shower of tears , In which I le drowne his scorne and mine owne feares . Areth. What have I heard ? Amoratho pardon me , For I have been ( by much ) too cruell to thee , Yet ( if as she reports ) I find thy heart Bequeathd to Arethusaes weake desart Nature shall worke a miracle so strange , All amorous Bee's shall wonder at my change .
Character 7. Parsimonius . — The gathering Bee . THe thrifty Bee doth tantingly deride The prodigall , inveighing gainst his pride . Speakers . Parsimonius . Acolastes . Par. THou art my kinsman , yet had not thy mother Been constant to thy father , and none other , I would have sworne some Emperour had got thee . Acol. Why so he might , let not opinion sot thee . Par. Suppose all Kingdomes in the world were bals And stood'st with a Racket twixt foure walls To tosse ad placitum , how wouldst thou play ? Acol. Why as with bals , bandy 'em all away , They gone play twice as many of the score . Par : A tennis Court of Kings could do no more But ( faith ) what dost thou thinke that I now thinke Of thy this dayes expences ? Acol: How in drinke , Dice , drabs , and musicke ? why that it was brave . Par. No , that thou art a proud vaine-glorious knave , That teeming womb thy father left so full Of golden issue , thou like a brainlesse gull , Hast Viper-like eat through : oh here 's trim stuffe , A good mans state in garters , rose , and ruffe . Acol. How one mans state ? that beggar's wretched poor That weares but one mans portion , I le do more , Had I my will , betwixt my knee and toe I de hang more pearle and diamonds then grow In both the Indies , poore Fucus musk my hose , Match your old greasie cod-piece . Parc. Let 's not part foes : I de have thee live in compasse . Acol. Foole I le be , Like Phebus in the Zodiake , I am he That would take Phaetons fall , tho I set fire On the whole world , to be Heavens Charioter . Par. Tha 'st fir'd too much already , parks and chases Have no part left of em save names of places . Tha 'st burnt so much , tha 'st not one tree to fell , To make a fire to warme thee by in hell . Acol. I le warm me by thy bones then . Par. Say and hold ; Want fire till then ; thy lust wil sterve with cold : T is voic'd abroad too , that thy lands are sold . Acol. They are : what then ? Par. And that the mony went Towards great last proud entertainment . Acol. It s a lye . Par. I thank you . Acol. But suppose it true That I spent Millions , what 's all that to you ? Had I for every day i th' yeare a friend , For each houre in that yeare a myne to spend , I de wast both Indies but I de feast em all . Parsi. And sterve thy selfe , still a true prodigall : What should thy stewes have then ? Acol. Out lazy droan , Thou enviest Bees with stings , 'cause thine is gone . Plate , Iewels , treasure , all shall flye . Parsi. They shall , And then some dunghil give the burial . Acol. No I le turn pickled thief . Par. what 's that ? A. A pitcate . If gold keep house , a Sea or land I le hate , As to feed ryot I the land did brave . So scorning land , water shall be my grave . Meane while the circle I 've begun I le run , Should the Devill stand i th' Center , like the Sun In his Meridian , my ascent 's divine . The vanitie of all mankinde is mine . In me all prodigalls loosenes fresh shall flow Borrow and spend , ne'r look back what I owe , Wine , Harlots , Surfeits , rich embroidered cloaths , Strange fashions , all sins sensual , new coynd oaths Shall feed and fill me , I le feast every sence . Nought shall become me ill but innocence . Parce. Farewel , I spie a wallet at thy backe . Who spends all young , ere age comes , all shall lack .
Character 8. Inamoratho . The Passionate Bee . IN this , the Poet spends some art , To character a lovers heart : And for a sigh , his love let fall , Prepares a solemne funerall . Speakers . Chariolus . Arethusa . Char. OH Arethusa , cause of my soules moving , Nature , save thee , hath no worke worth the loving For when she fashion'd thee , she summon'd all The Graces , and the Vertues Cardinall ; Nay the whole swarme of Bees came loaden home , Each bringing thee a rich perfection ; And laid them up with such Art in the hive , Thy braine , as since that , all thy beauties thrive ; For being mixt at thy creation , They made thee faire , past Art or imitation . Aret. 'T is he , is not your name Chariolus ? Son to our Mr. Bee ? Char. What art that thus Bluntly salut'st me ? Aret. One that has to say Somewhat to you from lovely Arethusa . Cha. How doth she ? Ar. Well . Cha. Ill tutor'd Bee , but well ? The word 's too sparing for her , more than well ; Nay , more than excellent 's an Epithite Too poor for Arethusa . Aret. This is right As the Bee told me , Can she better well Than with the Gods ? Cha. The Gods ? Aret. A passing bell Proclaim'd her death , and the whole swarme of Bees Mourn'd at her Herse in sable liveries : Long she lay sick , yet would not send , till death Knockt at lifes gate to fetch away her breath : But just as he came in , goe thou ( quoth she ) Seek out Chariolus , greet him from me , And pray him that he would no longer shroud His faire illustrate splendour in a cloud , For I am gone from the worlds vanities Unto the Gods ( a pleasing Sacrifice ) Yet there I 'll wish him well , and say , Good youth , I bequeath nothing to him , but my truth . And even as death arrested her , she cri'd , Oh my Chariolus ; so with a sigh she di'd . Cha. So with a sigh she dy'd . Ar. What meane you , Sir ? I have told him like a foolish messenger , What I shall first repent . Cha. Come , let us divide Sorrowes and teares , for with a sigh she dy'd . Aret. Nay then she lives . Cha. 'T is false , beleeve it not , I 'll have that sigh drawne on a charriot ( Made of the bones of lovers , who have cri'd , Beaten their breasts , sigh'd for their loves and dy'd ) Cover'd with azure-colour'd velvet ; where The sun of her affections shall shine cleare , In carelesse manner , 'bout the canopie Upon the Blew ( in quaint embroyderie ) Arethusa and Chariolus shall stand As newly married , joyn'd hand in hand . The charriot shall be drawne by milk-white Swans , About whose comely necks ( as streight as wands , In stead of reines , there shall hang chaines of pearle As pretious as her faith was : The prime girle That shall attend this charriot shall be Truth , Who in a robe , compos'd of ruin'd youth , Shall follow weeping , hanging downe the head , As who should say , My sweet companion 's dead . Next shall the Graces march , clad in rich sables , With correspondent hoods , 'bout which large tables Of pearle and gold ( in rich embroyderie ) Shall hang sad motto's of my miserie . Aret. Oh no , my miserie . Cha. Next these shall go All Arethusa's vertues in a row : Her wisedome first in plaine Abilliments ( As not affecting gawdy Ornaments ) Next them her chastity attir'd in white ( Whose chast eye shall her Epitaph indite ) Looking as if it meant to check desire And quell th' ascention of the Paphian fire , Next these her beauty , ( that immortall thing ) Deckt in a robe that signifies the spring , The loveliest season of the quartered yeare , Last shall her virgin modesty appeare , And that a robe , nor white nor red shall weare But equallie participating both , Call it a Maiden blush , and so the cloath Shall be her Hieroglyphicke , on her eye Shall sit discretion , who when any spie Would at that Casement , ( like a thiefe ) steale in Shall like her hearts true porter keep out sinne : These shall be all chiefe mourners , and because This sigh kild Arethusa , here wee l pawse And drop a teare , the tribute of her love , Next this because a sigh did kill my Dove ( A good conceit , I pray forget it not ) At the foure corners of this Chariot I le have the foure windes statued , which shall blow And sigh my sorrowes out , above , below , Into each quarter , then Sir , on the top Over all these gawdy trim things , I le set up My Statue in jet , my posture this Catching at Arethusa ; my lost blisse : For over me by Geometrick pins I le have her hang betwixt two Cherubins , As if they had snatcht her up from me and earth ( In Heaven to give her a more glorious birth ) The word this what should vertue doe on earth ? This I le have done , and when t is finish'd : All That love come to my poor sighs funerall . Swell gall , break heart , flow tears like a full tyde , For with a sigh faire Arethusa dy'd . Areth. Rather then thus , your youthfull flames should smother , Forget her thought and entertaine another . Char. Oh never never with the Turtle dove A sigh shall beare my soule up to my love .
Character 9. Pharmacopolis . The Quacksalving Bee . THis Satyre is the Character Of an imposterous Quacksalver , Who to steale practise and to vent His drugs would buy a patient . Speakers . Senilis . Stewart . Pharmacopolis . Sen. VVHat 's he ? St. The party . Sen. How ? what party Sir ? Stew. A most sweet rogue , an honest Quacksalver : That sues to be your houshold Pothecary , Sen. What sees he in my face that I should buy His drugs and drenches ? my cheeke weares a colour As fresh as his , and my veines channell 's fuller Of crimson bloud than his ; my well-knit joynts Are all truss'd round , and need no Physicall points . Read the whole alphabet of all my age , 'Mongst sixtie letters shalt not find one Ach : My bloud 's not boyl'd with fevers , nor ( tho old ) Is 't isicled with cramps , or dropsie cold : I am healthfull both in body and in wits , Coughs , rheumes , catarrhes , gouts , apopleptick fits : The common sores of age on me nere ran , No Galenist , nor Paracelsian , Shall ere read Physick lectue out of me , I le be no subject for anatomie . Phar. They are two good artists , Sir . Sen. All that I know , What the Creator did , they in part do , A true Physitian 's a man-maker too . My kitchin is my Doctor , and my garden , My college , Master , chiefe Assistant , Warden , And Pothecarie , when they give me pils , They work so gently , I 'm not choak'd with bils , Ounce , Drachma , Dram , the mildest of all these Is a far stronger griefe than the disease . Phar. Were 't not for bils , Physitians might go make Mustard . Sen. I know 't , nor bils , nor pils I le take ; I stand on sicknesse shore , and see men tost From one disease to another , at last quite lost : But on that sea of surfets where they 're drown'd , I never hoysting saile am ever sound . Phar. How , ever sound ? were all our Gallants so , Doctors and Pothecaries might go sow Dowlasse for saffron-bags , take leave of silk , And eat greene chibbals , and sowre butter-milk , Would you know how all physick to confound ? Why 't is done thus , keep but your Gallants sound . Sen. 'T is their owne faults , if they 'fore springs or fals , Emptying wine-glasses fill up urinals . Man was made sound at first ; if he growes ill , 'T is not by course of Nature , but free will : Distempers are not ours ; there should be then , Were we our selves , no physick , men to men Are both diseases cause , and the disease . Thank Fate I 'me sound , and free from both of these . Phar. Steward , my fiftie crownes , Redde . St. Not I . Phar. I le give you then a glister . St. Me Sir , why ? Phar. I le tell your Master , Sir , tho you le take none , Let me give your Steward a purgation . St. Why , I am well . Phar. No , you are too hard bound , And you must cast me up the fiftie pound I gave you in bribe-powder . St. Be patient . Phar. You le practise on me then . Sen. If this be true , My health I see is bought and sold by you : A Doctor buys me next , whose Messe of potions , Striking me full of ulcers ; oyles and lotions Bequeath me to a Surgeon ; last of all He gives me dyet in an Hospitall . Then comes the Scrivener , and he draws my wil , Thus slaves for gold their Mrs. sell and kill , Nay nay , so got so keepe it , for thy fifty Take here a hundred , wee 'l not now be thriftie , But of such artles Empiricks I le beware , And learne both when to spend & , when to spare .
Character 10. Fenerator . Or the Vsuring Bee . IN which the Poet lineats forth , That bounty feeds desert and worth : Checks Counterfeits , inveighs 'gainsst Bribes , And Foenerators nest describes . Speakers . Dicastes . Servitor . Fenerator . Impotens . Dicastes . VVHat rings this Bell so lowd for ? Ser. Sutors great Bee Cal for dispatch of busines . D. Say what they be . Ser. Wrackt Fen-Bees , aged , lame , and such as gaspe , Under late bondage of the cruell waspe . Dicast. Cheere them with hearty welcomes , in my chaire Seat the Bee most in yeares , let no one dare To send 'em sad hence , will our Janitors Observe them nobly , for the Marriners Marryners Character Are clocks of danger , that doe ne'r stand still , But move from one , unto an other ill , There dyals hand stil points to th' line of death , And tho they have winde at will , they oft loose breath . Of all our Bees that labour in the mead I love them , for they earne the dearest bread That life can buy ; when th' Elements make warre To ruin all , they' are sav'd by their good Starre . And for the Gally-slaves , oh love that Bee , Who suffers onely for pure Constancy , What suiters that ? Fen. A very sorry one . Dic. What makes thee sorry ? Fene. Pale affliction : My hive is burnt . Dic. And why to me do'st come ? Fen. To beg a 100. pound : Dic. Give him the sum . Fen. Now the Gods : Dic. Nay nay , kneele not nor be mistooke : Faces are speaking pictures , thine 's a booke , Which if the proofe be truly printed , showes . A page of close dissembling : Fen. High Heaven knows . Dic. Nay tho thou beest one , yet the mony 's thine Which I bestow on Charity , not her shrine . If thou cheat'st me ; thou art cheated , and hast got ( Beeing Licourish ) poyson from my Gally-pot In stead of hony , thou art not my debtor : I 'me ne'r the worse , nor thou ( I fear ) much better . Who 's next ? Ser. A one leg'd Bee . Dic. Oh use him well . Imp. Cannons defend me , Gunpowder of Hell ! Whom hast thou blowne up here ? Dic. dost know him friend ? Imp. Yes for the Kingdomes pestilence , a fiend , A moath takes up all petticoats he meets , Eats Feather-beds , Boulsters , Pillows , Blanquets , Sheets , And with sale bills , lays Shirts and smocks abed , In Linnen close adulterie , and ( instead ( A Broakers Of cloaths , strows Lavender so strongly on 'em ( Character The owners never more can smell upon 'em . This Bee sucks honey from the bloomes of sin . Bee 't nere so ranke or foule , he crams it in , Most of the Timber , that his state repairs , He hew's out ot'he bones of foundred players , They feed on Poets braines , he eats their breath . Dic. Most strange Conception , life begot on death ? Imp. Hee 's a male powl-cat ; a meere heart-bloud soaker , 'Mongst Bees the Hornet , but with men a broaker . Dic. Well Character'd , what scath has he done thee ? Imp. More then my legs losse : in one month eat three Of my poore fry , besides my wife ; this Iew Though he will eat no pork , eats Bees , t is true . Dic. He told me , when I ask'd him why he mournd , His hive , ( and all he could call his ) was burnd . Imp. Hee 's burnd himselfe ( perhaps ) but that 's no news , For he both keeps , and is maintaind by th' stews , He buyes their sins , and they pay him large Rents For a Long-lane of lowzy Tenements . Built up in stead of Morter , Straw , and Stones With poore-pawne-plaister , and sterv'd debtors bones , He may be fir'd , his rotten hives are not To this Autume Woodsare , Alias Kingdomes rot I pawnd my weapons , to buy course browne bread , To feed my fry and me , being forfeited , Twice so much money as he lent I gave , To have mine armes againe , the griping slave Swore not to save my soule , unlesse I cood , Lay downe my stump here , my poor leg of wood And so hop home . Dic. Vnheard of villanie . Ser. Is this true ? Fen. I dare not say it 's a lye . Dic. And what saist thou to this ? Imp. Nothing but crave Justice against this Hypocriticall knave , This three-pile-velvet rascall , widows decayer , The poore fryes beggerer and rich Bees betrayer . Let him have Russian law for all his sins . Di. What 's that ? Imp. A 100. blowes on his bare shins : Fen. Come home and take thine armes . Imp. I le ha thy legs : Justice great Bee , t is a wrong'd cripple begs . Dic. And thou shalt ha 't : I told thee goods ill got Would as ill thrive , my gift I alter not , That 's yours . But cunning Bee , you play'd the knave To crave not needing , this poor Bee must have His request too , else justice loose her chaire : Goe take him in , and one his shins stript bare In ready payment , give him a 100. stroakes : Imp. Hew downe his shanks , as Carpenters fell Oakes . Dic. Nor thinke me partiall , for I offer thee A hundred for a hundred . Imp. Iust his vsury . Dic. A hundred pound , or else a hundred blowes Give him the gold , he shall release you those . Fen. Take it and rot with 't . Imp. Follow thee thy curse : Wud blowes might make all broakers thus disburse .
Character 11. Obron in Progresse . Obron in Progresse . OBron his royall progresse makes , To Hibla , where he gives , and takes Presents , and priviledges , Bees Of worth he crownes with offices . Speakers . Obron . Agricola . Pastoralis . Flora . Obron . THe sessions full to avoid the Heat , In this coole shade each take his seate . Agr. The winged Tenants of these Lawnes , Deckt with bloomes , and downy pawnes , Like Subjects faithfull just and true , Bring Obron tribute . Ob. What are you ? Agr. A poor Bee that by Obrons will , First invented how to till The barren earth , and in it throw Seedes that dye , before they grow , And beeing well read in natures booke , Devi'sd Plow , Sickle , Sithe and hooke , To weed the thistles , and ranke brakes , From the good Corne : his voyage makes , From Thessalie , my native shrine , And to great Obron all Divine Submit my selfe . This wreath of wheat ( Ripend by Apollos heate ) My bosome fill'd with ears of corne , To thee that wert before time borne I freely offer . Ob. May thy field , Loaden with bounty , profit yeeld , May the root prosper , and each eare , Like a teeming female , beare Aprill deluge , and May frosts , Lightnings and Mildews fly thy Coasts ; As thou in service true shalt be To Obrons Crowne and Royalty : True baylife of our husbandrie Keepe thy place still ; the next : Past. A Bee , That 's keeper of King Obrons Groves , Sheepreeve of his flocks and Droves , His Goats , his Kids , his Ewes , and Lambes , Steeres and Heyfers , Syres , and Dams , To expresse homage at the full , Greets Obron with this fleece of wooll . Ob. May thy Ews in yeaning thrive , Stocke and increase , stand and survive , May the Woodsare , Coffe and rot Dye , or living , hurt thee not , May the Wolfe and wilie Fox Live exil'd from thy Herdes and flocks ; Last , not least , prosper thy Grove , And live thou blest in Obrons love , As thou in service true shalt bee To us and our high Royalty : The next . Vint. High Steward of thy vines , Taster both of grapes and wines , In these ripe clusters that present Full bountie , on his knees low bent , Payes Obron homage , and in this bole Brimm'd with grape bloud , tender tole Of all thy vintage . Obr. May thy grapes thrive In Autumne , and the roots survive In churlish winter , may thy fence Be proofe 'gainst wild Bores violence : As thou in service true shalt be To us and our high royaltie : A femall Bee thy character ? Flo. Flora , Obrons Gardiner , Huswife both of herbs and flowers , To strew thy shrine , and trim thy bowers , With Violets , Roses , Eglantine , Daffadowne , and blew Columbine , Hath forth the bosome of the Spring Pluckt this nose-gay , which I bring From Eleusis mine owne shrine . To thee a Monarch all divine ; And as true impost of my grove , Present it to great Obrons love . Obr. Honey deawes refresh thy Meads , Cowslips spring with golden heads , July-flowers , and Carnations weare Leaves double streakt with Maiden haire , May thy Lillies taller grow , Thy Violets fuller sweetnesse owe ; And last of all may Phoebus love To kisse thee , and frequent thy Grove , As thou in service true shalt be Unto our Crowne and Royaltie , Keep all your places , well we know Your loves , and will reward 'em too . Agric. In signe that we thy words beleeve , As well the birth-day as the eve We will keep holy ; Our winged Swaines , Neither for pleasure , nor for gaines , Shall dare profane 't , so lead away To solemnize this holy day .
Character 11. Rexacillium . The high Bench Bar. OBron in his Star-Chamber sits , Sends out Subpoena's , High Court Writs , To th' Mr. Bee , degradeth some , Frees others , all share legall doome . Speakers . Obron , Fairies , Mr. Bee , Prorex , Vespa , Hornet , Humble Bee , Fucus or Droane . Obr. NOw summon in our Mr. Bee , With all his swarme , and tell him wee Command our homage . Fai. He is come , Roome for great Prorex there , make roome . Obr. What meanes this slacknesse ? Pro. Royall Sir , My care made me a loyterer , To bring in these transgressing Bees , Who by deceits and fallacies Cloath'd with a smooth and faire intent , Have wrong'd me in my government . Obr. The manner how ? Pro. These wicked three , The Wasp , the Droane , and Humble Bee , Conspir'd like Traytors , first the Wasp , Sought in his covetous paw to grasp All he could finger , made the Sea Not onely his monopolie ; But with his wing'd swarmes scowr'd the plaines , Robbed and slew our wearie Swaines Comming from work : The Humble Bee ( A flye as tyrannous as hee ) By a strange yet legall stealth , Non-suited Bees of all their wealth . The Drone , a Bee more mercilesse , Our needy commons so oppresse , By hoording up , and poysoning th' earth , Once in three yeares hee 'd make a dearth , A needlesse one , transporting more To strangers than would feed our poore , At quarter day , if any lacks His rent , he ceaze both honey and wax , Throwing him out to beg and sterve For which . Obr. As they your selfe deserve Due punishment , for servants sins We commit their Masters , Justice wins More honour , and shines more compleat In vertue , by suppressing great , Than hanging poore ones ; yet because You have beene zealous in our Lawes , Your fault we pardon ; for Delinquents We have legall punishments : Vespa that pillag'd sea and land , Engrossing all into his hand , From all we banish , dead or alive , Never shall Vespa come in Hive ; But like a Pyrat and a Theefe , Steale and pilfer his releefe : Thou hast fed ryots , lusts , and rapes , And drawne vice in such horrid shapes , As very Horse-flyes , had they knowne 'em , For credits cause , yet would not owne 'em : Th' ast made thy Hive a Brothell , acted sin 'Gainst Nature , and the royaltie of kin , So base , as but thy selfe none could invent : They are all thine owne , and thou their president : For which , as thou thy fame hast lost , So be thine Armes and Titles crost From forth the roll of Heraldrie , That blazons out true Gentrie , Live ever exil'd : Fucus , you That engrost our Hony deaw , Bought wax and honey up by th' great , ( Transporting it as slaves doe wheat ) Your Hive ( with hony hid in trees And hollow banks ) our poore lame Bees Shall share , and even as Vespa so Unpatroniz'd live banisht too . Last , you that by your surly hum , Would needs usurp a Praetors roome , Your chamlet gowne , your purple hood , And stately phrase scarce understood , Or knowne from this our Mr. Bee , Made th' ignorant think that you were hee , And pay you reverence , for your hate To th' poore , and envie to our State , We here degrade and let you fall To th' dunghill , your originall ; From Nettles , Hemlocks , Docks and weeds , ( On which your Pesant-linage feeds ) Suck your diet : to be short , Ne're see our face , nor haunt our Court . Pro. And whither must these flyes be sent ? Obr. To everlasting banishment , Underneath two hanging rocks , ( Where babbling Eccho sits and mocks Poore Travellers ) there lyes a grove , With whom the Sun 's so out of love , He never smiles on 't , ( pale Despaire Cals it his monarchall chaire ) Fruit halfe ripe , hang rivell'd and shrunk On broken armes , torne from the trunk : The moorish pooles stand emptie , left By water , stolne by cunning theft To hollow banks , driven out by Snakes , Adders , and Newts , that man these lakes : The mossie weeds halfe swelter'd , serv'd As beds for vermin hunger-sterv'd : The woods are Yew-trees , rent and broke By whirle-winds , here and there an Oake Halfe cleft with thunder , to this grove We banish them . All . Some mercie , Iove . Obr. You should have cry'd so in your youth , When Chronos and his Daughter Truth Sojourn'd amongst you , when you spent Whole yeares in ryotous merriment , Thrusting poore Bees out of their hives , Ceazing both honey , wax , and lives , You should have call'd for mercie , when You impal'd common blossomes , when In stead of giving poore Bees food , You eat their flesh and drunk their blood . All . Be this our warning . Obr. 'T is too late , Fairies thrust them to their fate : Now Prorex our chiefe Mr. Bee , And Vice-Roy , thus we lesson thee , Thy preterit errours we forgive , Provided you hereafter live In compasse , take againe your Crowne , But make your subjects so your owne , As you for them may answer . Pro. Sir , ( For this high favour you confer ) True loyaltie ( upon my knee ) I promise both for them and mee . Obr. Rise in our love then , and that you , What you have promis'd may pursue , Chaste Latria I bestow On you in Marriage , shee le teach you how To be your selfe ; faire truth and time , Boulvatch , and constant Chime , To all your actions : Now adew , Prorex shall againe renew His potent raigne : the massie world Which in Glittering Orbes is hurld About the poles , be Lord of : wee Onely reserve our Royaltie , Field-musicke ? Obron must away For us our Gentle Fayries stay , In the Mountaines and the rocks Wee 'l hunt the Gray , and little Foxe , Who destroy our Lambs at feed , And spoyle the Neasts , where Turtles breed , If Vespa , Fucus , or proud Error Fright thy Bees , and be a terror To thy Groves , 't is Obrons will As Out-lawes you them seize and kill , Apollo , and the Muses dance , Art has banish'd ignorance , And chas'd all flies of Rape and stealth From forth our winged Common-wealth . FINIS .
Notes, typically marginal, from the original text
Notes for div A37285-e101340 ( sine leges viventes ) ( Ita Scaliger . ) Charact. Gehennae . Tempus .
Machine-generated castlist A37285-iltriste 25 A37285-dicastes 19 A37285-arethusa 18 A37285-poetaster 18 A37285-oberon 14 A37285-impotens 11 A37285-servant 11 A37285-acolastes 11 A37285-chariolus 10 A37285-prodigal 9 A37285-parliament 9 A37285-armiger 8 A37285-polypragmus 8 A37285-ulania 8 A37285-fenerator 8 A37285-pharmacoplis 8 A37285-senilus 7 A37285-gnatto 7 A37285-donne 6 A37285-eleemozynus 6 A37285-steward 6 A37285-cordato 5 A37285-speaker 5 A37285-prorex 5 A37285-unassigned 5 A37285-parsimonious 4 A37285-agricola 3 A37285-all 2 A37285-fairy 1 A37285-flora 1 A37285-pastoralis 1 A37285-vintager 1
Textual Notes

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impestrous THis Colloquie is characters Of an impestvuous Quacksalver : Who , to steale practise , progressu Obron in progresse . Char. 11. Obron in progresse . equ●ll Quotidian diet , and so order it , Each may have equall portion : And beside Needfull provision preteuce the Waspe ; a Flie Who Merchant-like under pretence to buy Makes bold to borrow , and paies Orth feet , And call it Polypragmus whipping post Or th' beggars ordinary , they shal tast my ● , Hearing of my retirement , and the hate I beare to Court attendance , and high state ●hould Thou ignorant elfe should he know this , hee'd make thee hang thy selfe di sretion her Hieroglyphicke , on her eye Shall sit discretion , who when any spie Would at that Casement inveighs'gainst desert and worth : Checks Counterfeits , inveighs 'gainsst Bribes , And Foenerators nest describes Progressu Obron in Progresse . Obron in Progresse . Hibl● OBron his royall progresse makes , To Hibla , where he gives , and takes Presents , Daffa downe bowers , With Violets , Roses , Eglantine , Daffadowne , and blew Columbine , Hath forth the bosome