Batrachomyomachia, or, the wonderfull and bloudy Battell betweene Frogs and Mice/In commendation of Poetry
mong the divers currents that do flow
Frō th'euer springing fountain of al art,
The perled Nectar most cōtent doth show
Which Poetry full sweetly doth impart,
Whose hony'd vapour comforteth the heart,
And under vailed fancies that doth sing,
Which doth much profit with great pleasure bring
In commendation of Poetry.
![A](http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/0/0b/Batrachomyomachia%2C_or%2C_the_wonderfull_and_bloudy_Battell_betweene_Frogs_and_Mice_-_Fowldes_%281634%29_-_initial_A.png/75px-Batrachomyomachia%2C_or%2C_the_wonderfull_and_bloudy_Battell_betweene_Frogs_and_Mice_-_Fowldes_%281634%29_-_initial_A.png)
Frō th'euer springing fountain of al art,
The perled Nectar most cōtent doth show
Which Poetry full sweetly doth impart,
Whose hony'd vapour comforteth the heart,
And under vailed fancies that doth sing,
Which doth much profit with great pleasure bring
For certs the truth (though truth no colours need
To men of understanding and ripe yeeres)
When she is masked in a seemely weed,
More faire, more sweet, and beautifull appeares,
Her tale contents the mind, and glads the eares
And makes men more attentive to her story,
That truth may still prevaile with greater glory:
To men of understanding and ripe yeeres)
When she is masked in a seemely weed,
More faire, more sweet, and beautifull appeares,
Her tale contents the mind, and glads the eares
And makes men more attentive to her story,
That truth may still prevaile with greater glory:
For as an Image drawne in white and blacke,
Though it be well proportioned with care,
If it doe other comely colours lacke,
To beautifie the members, head, and haire,
Vnto the eye appeares not halfe so faire;
Nor with so much content doth fill the minde,
As that portrayd with colours in his kinde:
Though it be well proportioned with care,
If it doe other comely colours lacke,
To beautifie the members, head, and haire,
Vnto the eye appeares not halfe so faire;
Nor with so much content doth fill the minde,
As that portrayd with colours in his kinde:
Ev'n so a naked story simply told,
Though cause be true and worthy due regard,
Doth not mens hearts with such affection hold,
Nor hath the outward sences so in gard,
As doth that matter which is well declard,
Adorned pleasantly with tearmes and art,
Which piercing th'row the eares, doth move the heart.
Though cause be true and worthy due regard,
Doth not mens hearts with such affection hold,
Nor hath the outward sences so in gard,
As doth that matter which is well declard,
Adorned pleasantly with tearmes and art,
Which piercing th'row the eares, doth move the heart.
This knew the learned Poets all of yore,
This knew th'immortall Sages long agone,
Whose workes the wisest of our age adore,
Such store of wisedome in their bookes is shone,
Such pleasure unto all, offence to none,
Such grave precepts hid under fine device,
As eares and heart with wonderment surprise.
This knew th'immortall Sages long agone,
Whose workes the wisest of our age adore,
Such store of wisedome in their bookes is shone,
Such pleasure unto all, offence to none,
Such grave precepts hid under fine device,
As eares and heart with wonderment surprise.
No fable sweet Philosophy containes,
Within the sacred volumes of her cell,
Dipt in the fount, which from [1]Pernassus strains,
Whereas the thrice three Nymphs are said to dwel,
That barbarisme and ignorance expell:
But under vaile deepe secrets doth unfold,
Though but a tale by wanton Ovid told.
Within the sacred volumes of her cell,
Dipt in the fount, which from [1]Pernassus strains,
Whereas the thrice three Nymphs are said to dwel,
That barbarisme and ignorance expell:
But under vaile deepe secrets doth unfold,
Though but a tale by wanton Ovid told.
By wanton Ovid? heavenly Poesie,
Parden the rashnesse of my infant Muse,
That I, a client to thy mysterie,
Should unadvisedly by that word abuse,
And terme him wanton, did no folly use:
For though his Muse was wanton, as he playned,
Yet Ovids life was chaste, and never stayned.
Parden the rashnesse of my infant Muse,
That I, a client to thy mysterie,
Should unadvisedly by that word abuse,
And terme him wanton, did no folly use:
For though his Muse was wanton, as he playned,
Yet Ovids life was chaste, and never stayned.
Nor sung he alwayes in a wanton lay,
And penned pleasing ditties of blinde fire:
Of deeper matters much could Ovid say,
As he whose soaring spirit mounted higher,
Than ever Poet after could aspire.
And save the famous Homer chiefe of all,
[2]The Prince of Poets may we Ovid call.
And penned pleasing ditties of blinde fire:
Of deeper matters much could Ovid say,
As he whose soaring spirit mounted higher,
Than ever Poet after could aspire.
And save the famous Homer chiefe of all,
[2]The Prince of Poets may we Ovid call.
But neither Homer, Ovid, nor the rest,
That ever tasted [3]Aganippes spring,
Though but to write of fables they addrest,
Which to th'unskilfull no contentment bring,
But with such arte and knowledge did them sing,
That in their volumes scarce appeares one line,
Which to the learned doth not seeme divine.
That ever tasted [3]Aganippes spring,
Though but to write of fables they addrest,
Which to th'unskilfull no contentment bring,
But with such arte and knowledge did them sing,
That in their volumes scarce appeares one line,
Which to the learned doth not seeme divine.
No vice of youth, no villany of age,
No lewd behaviour of each degree,
But in the secret myst'ries of the sage
And grave instructions of philosophy,
Clad in the habit of sweet Poesie,
Is aptly couched in some pretty fable,
As well the learned to discusse are able.
No lewd behaviour of each degree,
But in the secret myst'ries of the sage
And grave instructions of philosophy,
Clad in the habit of sweet Poesie,
Is aptly couched in some pretty fable,
As well the learned to discusse are able.
And not alone are vices set to view,
And horrid plagues attending wickednesse:
But blessed vertue with the heavenly crew,
Which ever wayt upon her worthinesse,
By them are portrayed forth with comelinesse:
The meanest fable Poet e're did make,
May stand as mirrour for example sake.
And horrid plagues attending wickednesse:
But blessed vertue with the heavenly crew,
Which ever wayt upon her worthinesse,
By them are portrayed forth with comelinesse:
The meanest fable Poet e're did make,
May stand as mirrour for example sake.
For proofe whereof, read but this little booke
With understanding, knowledge, care and skill,
And thou shalt finde presented to thy looke,
Such wit and learning from the Authors quill,
Which under fine inventions meet thee still;
So pleasant obiects that occurre thine [4]eyes,
As will thy soule with wonderment surprise.
With understanding, knowledge, care and skill,
And thou shalt finde presented to thy looke,
Such wit and learning from the Authors quill,
Which under fine inventions meet thee still;
So pleasant obiects that occurre thine [4]eyes,
As will thy soule with wonderment surprise.
And not alone shall pleasure thee awayte,
As thou perusest what I now present;
Here thou shalt have fit matter for each state,
If thou consider what hereby is ment.
Then thinke thy time herein not idly spent.
Ponder with iudgement what thou read'st at leysure,
So may thy profit equalize thy pleasure.
As thou perusest what I now present;
Here thou shalt have fit matter for each state,
If thou consider what hereby is ment.
Then thinke thy time herein not idly spent.
Ponder with iudgement what thou read'st at leysure,
So may thy profit equalize thy pleasure.