With whom he long and seriously conferr'd
On all intrigues that might concern his beard;
By whose advice he sat for a design
In little drawn, exactly to a line :
That, if the creature chance to have occasion
To undergo a thorough reformation,
It might be borne conveniently about,
And by the meanest artist copied out.
This done, he sent a journeyman sectary,
H' had brought up to retrieve, and fetch, and carry,
To find out one that had the greatest practice,
To prune and bleach the beards of all fanatics,
And set their most confused disorders right,
Not by a new design, but newer light ;
Who used to shave the grandees of their sticklers,
And crop the worthies of their Conventiclers;
To whom he show'd his new-invented draught,
And told him how 'twas to be copied out.
Quoth he, Tis but a false and counterfeit,
And scandalous device of human wit,
That's abs❜lutely forbidden in the Scripture,
To make of any carnal thing the picture.
Quoth th' other Saint, You must leave that to us,
T' agree what's lawful, or what's scandalous;
For, till it is determined by our vote,
It's either lawful, scandalous, or not;
Which, since we have not yet agreed upon,
Is left indiff'rent to avoid or own.
Quoth he, My conscience never shall agree
To do it, till I know what 'tis to be;
For, though I use it in a lawful time,
What if it after should be made a crime?
'Tis true we fought for liberty of conscience
'Gainst human constitutions, in our own sense;
Which I'm resolved perpetually t' avow,
And make it lawful, whatsoe'er we do;
Then do your office with your greatest skill,
And let th' event befall us how it will.
This said, the nice barbarian took his tools,
To prune the zealot's tenets and his jowles;
Talk'd on as pertinently, as he snipt,
A hundred times for every hair he clipt;
Until the Beard at length began t' appear,
And re-assume its antique character,
Grew more and more itself, that art might strive,
And stand in competition with the life :
For some have doubted if 'twere made of snips
Of sables, glued and fitted to his lips;
And set in such an artificial frame,
As if it had been wrought in filograin,
More subtly fill'd and polish'd than the gin
That Vulcan caught himself a cuckold in ;
That Lachesis, that spins the threads of Fate,
Could not have drawn it out more delicate.
But being design'd and drawn so regular,
T'a scrupulous punctilio of a hair,
Who could imagine that it should be portal
To selfish, inward-unconforming mortal?
And yet it was, and did abominate
The least compliance in the Church or State;
And from itself did equally dissent,
As from religion and the government.1
'Among Butler's manuscripts, the following additional sketch is found:
This rev'rend brother, like a goat,
Did wear a tail upon his throat;
The fringe and tassel of a face,
That gives it a becoming grace,
But set in such a curious frame,
As if 'twere wrought in filograin;
And cut so even, as if 't had been
Drawn with a pen upon his chin.
PROLOGUE TO THE "QUEEN OF ARRAGON,"
A TRAGI-COMEDY, BY WILLIAM HABINGTON,
ACTED BEFORE THE DUKE OF YORK, UPON HIS BIRTHDAY.
SIR, While so many nations strive to pay
The tribute of their glories to this day,
That gave them earnest of so great a sum
Of glory (from your future acts) to come;
And which you have discharged at such a rate,
That all succeeding times must celebrate :
We, that subsist by your bright influence,
And have no life but what we own from thence,
Come humbly to present you, our own way,
With all we have (beside our hearts)—a play.
But, as devoutest men can pay no more
To deities than what they gave before,
We bring you only what your great commands
Did rescue for us from engrossing hands,
That would have taken out administration
Of all departed poets' goods i' th' nation;
No topiary hedge of quickset
Was e'er so neatly cut, or thick set;
That made beholders more admire,
Than china-plate that's made of wire;
But being wrought so regular
In ev'ry part, and ev'ry hair,
Who would believe it should be portal
To unconforming-inward mortal?
And yet it was, and did dissent
No less from its own government,
Than from the Church's, and detest
That which it held forth and profess'd;
Did equally abominate
Conformity in Church and State;
And, like an hypocritic brother,
Profess'd one thing, and did another;
As all things, where they're most profess'd,
Are found to be regarded least.
Or, like to lords of manors, seized all plays
That come within their reach, as wefts and strays;
And claim'd a forfeiture of all past wit,
But that your justice put a stop to it.
'Twas well for us, who else must have been glad
T'admit of all who now write new and bad;
For still the wickeder some authors write,
Others to write worse are encouraged by 't.
And though those fierce inquisitors of wit,
The critics, spare no flesh that ever writ,
But just as tooth-draw'rs find among the rout,
Their own teeth work in pulling others out;
So they, decrying all of all that write,
Think to erect a trade of judging by 't.
Small poetry, like other heresies,
By being persecuted multiplies:
But here they're like to fail of all pretence;
For he that writ this play is dead long since,
And not within their pow'r; for bears are said
To spare those that lie still, and seem but dead.
MADAM, The joys of this great day are due,
No less than to your royal lord, to you ;
And, while three mighty kingdoms pay your part,
You have, what's greater than them all, his heart;
That heart that, when it was his country's guard,
The fury of two elements out-dared;
And made a stubborn haughty enemy
The terror of his dreadful conduct fly;
And yet you conquer'd it—and made your charms
Appear no less victorious than his arms ;
For which you oft have triumph'd on this day,
And many more to come Heav'n grant you may.
But, as great princes use, in solemn times
Of joy, to pardon all but heinous crimes;
If we have sinn'd without an ill intent,
And done below what really we meant,
We humbly ask your pardon for 't, and pray
You would forgive, in honour of the day.
UPON THE PARLIAMENT WHICH DELIBERATED ABOUT MAKING OLIVER KING.
1 As close as a goose
Sat the Parliament-House,
To hatch the royal gull;
After much fiddle-faddle,
The egg provèd addle,
And Oliver came forth Nol.
2 Yet old Queen Madge,
Though things do not fadge,
Will serve to be Queen of a May-poie ;
Two Princes of Wales,
And her grace Maid-Marion Clay-pole.
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