TO HIS KIND AND TRUE FRIEND, EDWARD BLUNT.1

BLUNT,2 I propose to be blunt with you, and, out of my dulness, to encounter you with a Dedication in memory of that pure elemental wit, Chr. Marlowe, whose ghost or genius is to be seen walk the Churchyard,3 in, at the least, three or four sheets. Methinks you should presently look wild now, and grow humorously frantic upon the taste of it. Well, lest you should, let me tell you, this spirit was sometime a familiar of your own, Lucan's First Book translated; which, in regard of your old right in it, I have raised in the circle of your patronage.. But stay now, Edward: if I mistake not, you are to accommodate yourself with some few instructions, touching the property of a patron, that you are not yet possessed of; and to study them for your better grace, as our gallants do fashions. First, you must be proud, and think you have merit enough in you, though you are ne'er so empty; then, when I bring you the book, take physic, and keep state; assign me a time by your man to come again; and, afore the day, be sure to have changed your lodging; in the meantime sleep little, and sweat with the invention of some pitiful dry jest or two, which you may happen to utter with some little, or not at all, marking of your friends, when you have found a place for them to come in at; or, if by chance something has dropped from you worth the taking up, weary all that come to you with the often repetition of it; censure, scornfully enough, and somewhat like a traveller; commend nothing, lest you discredit your (that which you would seem to have) judgment. These things, if you can

1 A well-known bookseller.

2 Old ed. "Blount."

3 Paul's churchyard, the Elizabethan "Booksellers' Row."

mould yourself to them, Ned, I make no question that they will not become you. One special virtue in our patrons of these days I have promised myself you shall fit excellently, which is, to give nothing; yes, thy love I will challenge as my peculiar object, both in this, and, I hope, many more succeeding offices. Farewell: I affect not the world should measure my thoughts to thee by a scale of this nature leave to think good of me when I fall from thee.

Thine in all rights of perfect friendship,

THOMAS THORPE.

THE FIRST BOOK OF LUCAN.

WARS worse than civil on Thessalian plains,
And outrage strangling law, and people strong,

We sing, whose conquering swords their own breasts lancht,1

Armies allied, the kingdom's league uprooted,

Th' affrighted world's force bent on public spoil, Trumpets and drums, like 2 deadly, threatening other, Eagles alike display'd, darts answering darts,

Romans, what madness, what huge lust of war,
Hath made barbarians drunk with Latin blood?
Now Babylon, proud through our spoil, should stoop, 10
While slaughter'd Crassus' ghost walks unreveng'd,
Will ye wage war, for which you shall not triumph?
Ay me! O, what a world of land and sea

Might they have won whom civil broils have slain !
As far as Titan springs, where night dims heaven,
I, to the torrid zone where mid-day burns,
And where stiff winter, whom no spring resolves,

1 Old ed. "launcht."-The forms "lanch" and "lance" are used indifferently.

Alike.

Fetters the Euxine Sea with chains of ice;
Scythia and wild Armenia had been yok'd,
And they of Nilus' mouth, if there live any.
Rome, if thou take delight in impious war,
First conquer all the earth, then turn thy force
Against thyself: as yet thou wants not foes.
That now the walls of houses half-reared totter,
That, rampires fallen down, huge heaps of stone
Lie in our towns, that houses are abandon'd,
And few live that behold their ancient seats;
Italy many years hath lien untill'd

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And chok'd with thorns; that greedy earth wants hinds;-
Fierce Pyrrhus, neither thou nor Hannibal

Art cause; no foreign foe could so afflict us:
These plagues arise from wreak of civil power.
But if for Nero, then unborn, the Fates

Would find no other means, and gods not slightly
Purchase immortal thrones, nor Jove joy'd heaven
Until the cruel giants' war was done;

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We plain not, heavens, but gladly bear these evils
For Nero's sake: Pharsalia groan with slaughter,
And Carthage souls be glutted with our bloods!
At Munda let the dreadful battles join ;
Add, Cæsar, to these ills, Perusian famine,
The Mutin toils, the fleet at Luca[s] sunk,
And cruel1 field near burning Ætna fought!
Yet Rome is much bound to these civil arms,
Which made thee emperor. Thee (seeing thou, being old,

1 "Et ardenti servilia bella sub Etna."

Must shine a star) shall heaven (whom thou lovest)
Receive with shouts; where thou wilt reign as king,
Or mount the Sun's flame-bearing chariot,
And with bright restless fire compass the earth,
Undaunted though her former guide be chang'd;
Nature and every power shall give thee place,
What god it please thee be, or where to sway.
But neither choose the north t'erect thy seat,
Nor yet the adverse reeking1 southern pole,

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Whence thou shouldst view thy Rome with squinting 2 beams.

If any one part of vast heaven thou swayest,

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The burden'd axes 3 with thy force will bend:
The midst is best; that place is pure and bright;
There, Cæsar, mayst thou shine, and no cloud dim thee.
Then men from war shall bide in league and ease,
Peace through the world from Janus' face shall fly,
And bolt the brazen gates with bars of iron.
Thou, Cæsar, at this instant art my god;
Thee if I invocate, I shall not need

To crave Apollo's aid or Bacchus' help;
Thy power inspires the Muse that sings this war.

The causes first I purpose to unfold

Of these garboils, whence springs a long discourse;
And what made madding people shake off peace.
The Fates are envious, high seats 5 quickly perish,

1 "Nec polus adversi calidus qua vergitur Austri." 2.44 Obliquo sidere."

3 Axis.

4 Tumults.

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