She seem'd to all a Dove, when I pass'd by,
And I to all a Raven: every eye

That follow'd her, went with a bashful glance;
At me each bold and jeering countenance
Darted forth scorn: to her as if she had been
Some Tower unvanquished would they vail;
'Gainst me swoln rumour hoisted every sail :
She crown'd with reverend praises pass'd by them,
I though with face mask'd could not scape the Hem;
For, as if heaven had set strange marks on whores,
Because they should be pointing stocks to man,
Drest up in civilest shape a Courtezan,

Let her walk saint-like noteless and unknown,
Yet she's betray'd by some trick of her own.
The happy Man.

He that makes gold his wife, but not his whore,
He that at noon day walks by a prison door,
He that in the Sun is neither beam nor inoat,
He that's not mad after a petticoat,

He for whom poor men's curses dig no grave,
He that is neither Lord's nor Lawyer's slave,
He that makes This his sea and That his shore,
He that in 's coffin is richer than before,

He that counts Youth his sword and Age his staff,
He whose right hand carves his own epitaph,
He that upon his death bed is a Swan,

And dead, no Crow: he is a Happy Man.23

by it? When Cervantes with such proficiency of fondness dwellsTM upon the Don's library, who sees not that he has been a great reader of books of Knight Errantry? perhaps was at some time of his life in danger of falling into those very extravagancies which he ridicules so happily in his Hero?

23 The turn of this is the same with Iago's definition of a Deserv ing Woman: "She that was ever fair and never proud, &c." The matter is superior.

F

SATIRO-MASTIX OR THE

UNTRUSSING OF THE

HUMOROUS POET, BY THOMAS DECKER.

The King exacts an oath from Sir Walter Terill to send his Bride Calestina to Court on the marriage night. Her Father, to save her honor, gives her a poisonous mixture which she swallows.

Cal. Why didst thou swear?

Ter. The King

Sat heavy on my resolution,

Till (out of breath) it panted out an oath.

Cal. An oath! why, what's an oath ? 'tis but the smoke Of flame and blood; the blister of the spirit

Which riseth from the steam of rage, the bubble
That shoots up to the tongue and scalds the voice;

(For oaths are burning words.) Thou swor'st but one,
"Tis frozen long ago: if one be number'd,

What countrymen are they, where do they dwell,
That speak nought else but oaths?

Ter. They're Men of Hell.

An oath! why 'tis the traffic of the soul, 'Tis law within a man; the seal of faith,

The bond of every conscience; unto whom

We set our thoughts like hands: yea, such a one
I swore, and to the King: a King contains
A thousand thousand; when I swore to him,
I swore to them; the very hairs that guard
His head will rise up like sharp witnesses
Against my faith and loyalty: his eye

Would strait condemn me: argue oaths no more;
My oath is high, for to the King I swore.

Cal. Must I betray my chastity, so long
Clean from the treason of rebelling lust?

O husband

Must not live chaste, then let me chastely die.

Fath. Aye, here's a charm shall keep thee chaste, come,

come,

Old time hath left us but an hour to play

Our parts; begin the scene; who shall speak first?
Oh I, I play the King, and Kings speak first:
Daughter, stand thou here, thou son Terill there;
We need no prologue, the King entering first
He's a most gracious Prologue: marry, then
For the catastrophe or Epilogue,

There's one in cloth of silver, which no doubt
Will please the hearers well when he steps out;
His mouth is fill'd with words: see where he stands:
He'll make them clap their eyes besides their hands.
But to my part: suppose who enters now,

A King whose eyes are set in silver; one
That blusheth gold, speaks music, dancing walks,
Now gathers nearer, takes thee by the hand,
When strait thou thinkst the very orb of heaven
Moves round about thy fingers; then he speaks,
Thus-thus-I know not how.

Cal. Nor I to answer him.

Fath. No, girl! know'st thou not how to answer him?
Why, then the field is lost, and he rides home
Like a great conqueror: not answer him!

Out of thy part already! foil'd the scene!
Disrank'd the lines! disarm'd the action!

Ter. Yes, yes, true chastity is tongued so weak

Tis overcome ere it know how to speak.

Fath. Come, come, thou happy close of every wrong,

'Tis thou that canst dissolve the hardest doubt;

'Tis time for thee to speak, we all are out.
Daughter and you the man whom I call son,
I must confess I made a deed of gift

To heaven and you, and gave my child to both;
When on my blessing I did charm her soul
In the white circle of true chastity

Still to run true till death: now, sir, if not,

She forfeits my rich blessing, and is fined
With an eternal curse; then I tell you,

She shall die now, now whilst her soul is true.
Ter. Die!

Cal. Aye, I am death's echo.
Fath. O my son:

I am her father; every tear I shed

Is threescore ten years old; I weep and smile
Two kinds of tears: I weep that she must die,
I smile that she must die a virgin: thus
We joyful men mock tears, and tears mock us.
Ter. What speaks that cup?

Fath. White wine and poison.

Ter. Oh:

That very name of poison poisons me.
Thou winter of a man, thou walking grave,
Whose life is like a dying taper : how

Canst thou define a Lover's laboring thoughts?

What scent hast thou but death? what taste but earth?
The breath that purls from thee, is like the steam
Of a new open'd vault: I know thy drift;
Because thou'rt travelling to the land of graves,
Thou covet'st company, and hither bring'st
A health of poison to pledge death: a poison
For this sweet spring; this element is mine,
This is the air I breathe; corrupt it not:
This heaven is mine, I bought it with my soul
Of him that sells a heaven to buy a soul.

Fath. Well, let her go; she's thine thou call'st her

thine,

Thy element, the air thou breath'st; thou know'st
The air thou breath'st is common; make her so.
Perhaps thou'lt say none but the King shall wear
Thy night-gown, she that laps thee warm with love;
And that Kings are not common: then to shew
By consequence he cannot make her so.
Indeed she may promote her shame and thine,
And with your shames speak a good word for mine.
The King shining so clear, and we so dim,

Our

Our dark disgraces will be seen through him.
Imagine her the cup of thy moist life,

What man would pledge a King in his own Wife?
Ter. She dies: that sentence poisons her: O life!
What slave would pledge a King in his own Wife?
Cal. Welcome O poison, physic against lust,
Thou wholesome medicine to a constant blood;
Thou rare apothecary that canst keep
My chastity preserv'd within this box

Of tempting dust, this painted earthen pot
That stands upon the stall of the white soul,
To set the shop out like a flatterer,

To draw the customers of sin: come, come,
Thou art no poison, but a diet drink

To moderate my blood: White-innocent Wine,
Art thou made guilty of my death? oh no,
For thou thyself art poison'd: take me hence,
For Innocence shall murder Innocence.

[Drinks,

Ter. Hold, hold, thou shall not die, my bride, my

wife,

O stop that speedy messenger of death;
O let him not run down that narrow path
Which leads unto thy heart, nor carry news
To thy removing soul that thou must die.

Cal. 'Tis done already, the Spiritual Court
Is breaking up, all Offices discharg'd,
My Soul removes from this weak Standing-house
Of frail mortality: Dear father, bless
Me now and ever: Dearer man, farewell;
I jointly take my leave of thee and life;
Go tell the King thou hast a constant wife,
Fath. Smiles on my cheeks arise

To see how sweetly a true virgin dies,24

24 The beauty and foree of this scene are much diminished to the reader of the entire play, when he comes to find that this solemn preparation is but a sham contrivance of the father's, and the potion which Cælestina swallows nothing more than a sleeping draught; from the effects of which she is to awake in due time, to the surprise of her husband, and the great mirth and edification of the King and his courtiers. As Hamlet says, they do but "poison in jest."-The sentiments are worthy of a real martyrdoni, and an Appian sacrifice in earnest.