Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, A SCAEN OF SIR ROBERT HOARD'S PLAY, by JOHN WILMOT


Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

A SCAEN OF SIR ROBERT HOARD'S PLAY, by                 Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
First Line: Lead faster on why creep you thus to fight
Last Line: Finis
Alternate Author Name(s): Rochester, 2d Earl Of
Subject(s): Howard, Sir Robert (1626-1698); War


The Army appeares drawn up in three Battalions
The Empresse Leading the maine Body, on the right hand Hyachian, on the left Lycungus.
Emp: Lead faster on why creep you thus to fight
Faintly to charge is shamefuller than flight.
Your Emperour Deify'd hovers in the aire
Commands revenge and does rewards prepare
For the brave Glory, for the base despaire.
Perhaps they think or would perswade the Foe,
Warr led by women must be cold or slow.
This day I'le prove the Injustice of that scorne
Men treat our Sex withall, Woman is borne
With equall thirst of Honour and of Fame
But treacherous man misguides her in her aime
Makes her believe that all her Glories lye
In dull obedience, Truth and Modesty,
That to bee Beautifull is to bee Brave
And calls her Conquerer when she's most his Slave
Forbidding her those noble Paths to tread,
Which through bold daring deeds to Glory lead
With the poore Hypocriticall pretence
That Womans merit is her Innocence,
Who, treacherously advis'd Retaining thus
The sole Ambition to be vertuous
Thinks 'tis enough if she's not Infamous
On these false grounds is mans stol'n Triumph laid
Through Craft alone the Nobler Creature made;
Women henceforth by my Example taught
To vaster heights of vertue shall bee wrought,
Train'd up in Warre and Armes she shall despise
The mean pretended Conquests of her Eyes
Nor be contented with the low applause
Left to her Sex, by mans tyrrannique Lawes.
Glory was never got by sitting still,
The Lazy merits of not doing ill.
Who e're aspires to reach a Glorious name
By Acting greatly must lay in their Claime
Storm, tear, and fight with all the world for Fame.
Hyach: Now all the powers of Warre and Victory
Forever to your Armes propitious bee,
And may that Fame they for your sword reserve
Equall the Glory wee obtain to serve.
Lycun: I will not mingle wishes with the Crowd
Nor till my service pleases you bee proud,
But, if revenge through conquest you designe
For that depend on this Sole Arme of mine
Guarded by this, Danger you may despise
And finde your Sword as powerfull as your Eyes
Whose brightness shoud the God of Battel see
As full of Charmes as they appeare to mee
Hee'd think his Venus were grown young againe
Leap down from Heaven and Resume his Chaine
Nor though a God shou'd hee your fetters weare
Without the hazzard of a Rivall here;
Emp: That Prince who to my Aide his Army brings
I doe expect shall fight not say fine things
If his presuming Vanity bee such
Let him take care his Courage bee as much,
And with his daring hand build a pretence
To bee forgiv'n his Tongues Impertinence.
Lycun: Pride and contempt that often blinde the faire
Make them least pertinent when most severe
From unaffected Truths noe Errours flow
I thinke you Lovely and I hold you soe.
What of my selfe I said I shall make good
And when I fight bee better understood.
Emp: Fighting indeed your Riddle will explaine
Distinguishing the Valiant from the Vaine.
Hyach: And that distinction quickly will be made
For I perceive from yonder gloomy shade
Which those tall woods doe o're the Valleys throw
Like swelling Tides the numerous Tarters flow,
Their glittering Helmets force a brighter day
And moving Shields
Like dancing Billows in the sunbeames Play.
Emp: They meet my just Revenge and their own Fate
And have the manners not to make mee waite.
To Hyac: But you, brave Prince, whose deeds advance your name
Even with the foremost in the mouth of Fame
Who, wheresoe e're you come, bring Victory
Blush not this day to leave a part to mee.
I to your conduct will the trust afford
Of the first blooming Honour of my Sword.
All here to your unequall'd worth must yield
This day I make you Generall of the field.
Hyach: Few conquests yet my feeble hand has wrought
But, were my deeds as humble as my thought
Rank't with the meanest slave that does pursue
The matchless Glory here to fight for you,
Since on my Arme you place such confidence
To think it worthy of your Fames defence
The sole Ambition not to prove unjust
May raise my Merit equall to my trust.
Emp: My judgement I but weakly shoud expresse
To value you soe much and trust you lesse
But in what order will you now bestow
The Bold Chinesses to receive the Foe?
Whose discipline as well as ours you know;
Hyach: Fiercely the Tartars with confusion Charge
In broken order here and there at Large
With wilde Excursions to and fro they bound
And if not well observ'd will charge you round
But a large front shall hinder that designe
Half the first Legion draw into a line
Let the other halfe the two extreames inforce
And let the point bee wing'd with all the horse
I'th middle which the greatest shock must prove
Let the maine Body of the Army move.
Emp: My selfe and guards will at the head be plac't
Hyach: My force may follow next
Emp: Lycungus last
Now Father draw thy vailing Cloud and see
Thy vow'd revenge thy daughter pays to thee
While from the walls each gazing Slave admires
Thy daring Glory this revenge inspires--
Exit Emp.
Lycun: Lycungus last! Empresse I thank your Care
Tis for Hyachian then that wee make warre.
You who Create what difference can you see
Twixt this admir'd Hyachian and mee
Woman! ah worthlesse woman! erring still
In the wilde maze of thy fantastick Will
Equally shar'd betwixt thy Pride and Lust
Averse to all that's good and blinde to all that's just
For ever is that man of worth undone,
Whom Fate into thy Barb'rous pow'r hath thrown
Who in the dumb green sickness of her minde
Still hungers for the trash of all mankinde
Not an insipid Fopp on Earth does move
For whom some woman does not die in Love.
Enter an Officer.
Officer: Both Armies Sir by this time are so neare
They'l bee engag'd ere you can reach the Reare.
Lycun: Bid my advancing Troops with speed bee gone
Bid em stand still be quiet and look on.
Exit off
Eternall God, but sure there can be none
To see injustice and looke Idly on
But if there bee,
Which of you all below or in the skies
Is not in debt to mee for Sacrifice?
To the bright shining God some prayers I make
Some to the Hurtfull grim Bloudthirsty Black,
Where either hope or fear points out the way
With Equall zeal, I sacrifice, and Pray.
If all my Prayers cannot these Blessings raise
Have you the Conscience to expect my Praise
Though hitherto
My Innocent desires success doe want?
But I'le ask favours, you'l not stick to grant
When wee for Blessings shue, you stop your Eares
But if wee curse there's not one God but heares.
Assist mee then to bring full ruine downe
On this insulting Woman and her Crowne.
Are yee not scorn'd, blasphem'd, deny'd each day
For letting Chance in mortall Actions sway?
You'll mend the matter well, if you permit
The Rule of things to woman's Will, or Wit.
Woman of all the Creatures you did make
The only signe and profe you cou'd mistake
That heap of contradictions mass of Lyes
Snare of our wishes Bane of all our Joyes
If for a Blessing they were sent us, why
Have you not given them one good quality?
If for a Curse, how are you just or wise
To lend em your own form for a disguise?
Enter a Soldier.
Sold: The overpower'd Chinesses give ground,
The Empress with her Guard's incompass'd round,
The Prince Hyachians to her rescue fled
And both by this time taken or else dead
The wings retire the main battalian's broke.
Lycun: No matter, see my men fight not a stroak.
Exit Sold:
Before the sun dip in the azure wave
She shall be Deaths the Tartars or my slave
My Slave, my wife,
My hated Wife, now my revenge grows strong
And may this way bee equall to my wrong,
Thanks to your pow'rs who marriage have allow'd
To make them wretched whom you first made proud.
But first Hyachian must in dust be lay'd
The Army next deserted or betray'd.
Tis worth the Blackest mischief I can doe
To bee reveng'd and get an Empire too.
If on the Tartars side the day bee lost
I'le take advantage of my noble Post,
When the pursuit most eager does appeare
I'le fall on the Chinesses in the reare
If they are put to flight, my forces Lye
Nearest the Towne, and thither first I'le fly
And if my beaten Empress scape the rout
I'le let her in, but shut the Army out
Then shall shee from the wall a prospect take
Of the free massacre the Tartars make.
If after she'l consent to marry mee
When she's my Slave, I'le set her Empire free
From my own province call a fresh supply
And beat Syunges home with Infamy.
If the proud wretch my proferr'd hand disdaine,
In stead of mee ruine and death shall reigne.
With desolation I'le the City fill
And my fierce Troops shall plunder, fire and kill,
When in their bloud the murder'd people swim
And flames for want of more supply grow dim
Enter an Officer.
I'le ravish her and call the Tarters in.
Offic: The China Army Sir has lost the day
And drivn by conquering Tartars fly this way
Your forces unengag'd your orders waite.
Lycun: Bid em retire and seize the City gate.
You with some chozen horse must stay behinde
And if the false Hyachian you can finde
Among the scatter'd runawayes of the field
Bee it your business Sir to see him kill'd.
Goe on, Lycungus Murder and betray
All Acts that lead to thy designes obey
Noe mischiefe is so Black no crime soe high
But to the World success will Justify
And you Pale deadly Daemons of the Night
Whom Altars bath'd in humane Gore delight
Assist my Plots, to make my conquests good
And when I reigne you shall not want for food.
Exit.
A noise of fighting and running Enter Hyachian
Bloudy with his Sword Drawne stopping some who fly --
Hyach: Stay yee Base wretches, whither would you fly?
Is it a Race for chaines and Infamy?
Are you such Cowards to hide yourselves in Graves
Or have ye hopes to bee the Tartars Slaves?
In shamefull flight what safety does appeare
Can yee escape a greater Hell than feare?
Enter an Officer.
Officer: Ah my deare Lord are you alive and free?
Hyach: Yes and ashamed to see your Infamy.
How durst you bee my friend and run away?
Offic: Where Torrents drive what single force can stay?
North Winds broke loose you might assone recall
Fix scatter'd leaves that in the Autumne fall,
Resist the Rapid motion of the Spheare
As stop the flowing Tide of Pannique feare.
Through every Rank a swift report was spread
That you were taken and the Empress dead
At which they flying cry'd
After such losses twas not worth their Paines
To fight for conquest or decline their Chaines.
Hyach: The Empresse by Rash honour driven on
Into the thickest of the Foe was flowne;
I to her rescue ran midst showers of Darts
Cutting my Bloudy way through Tartars hearts
On foot I found her, for her horse was kill'd
Strewing with gasping carcasses the field.
Some drops of Blood
Which from her wounds on her faire neck did flow
Like Rubies set in Rocks of Silver show;
Alone she fought expos'd to Vulgar Blowes,
Like a maim'd Eagle in a flock of Crowes,
While I sought death with her I cou'd not Save
One more than all the rest generous and Brave
Presses in through the Assassinating Crowd
And with a voice of Terrour cryes alowd,
Desist for shame the Feeble murderers,
Stain not with Womans Bloud your Cymeters
Ile lead you on to Nobler Victories.
The Men obey him and away hee flys.
Thus got wee time our Army to regaine
But where's Lycungus taken, fled or slaine?
Officer: Lycungus Sir has never charg'd at all
And now stands gazing ore the City Wall.
Hyach: In him the stupid Rage of Envy see
Though Brave turns Coward to be reveng'd on mee.
Enter an Officer.
Officer: The scatter'd Troops
At Amacoa's presence stay their flight
And led by her renew a Bloudy fight.
Hyach: Noe more shall Nations in distress and thrawll
On helpless man for Aid in Battails call:
This Woman's Valour is above us all --
Where ere she fights, Beauty and Ruine joyne
Rage on her Arme, While in her Eyes they shine.
With Story and with death the field she fills
Soe thunder led by lightning shines and kills.

Finis





Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!


Other Poems of Interest...
Home: PoetryExplorer.net