Classic Poem

There came a commune Begger to the Court,
Who in the City begg'd of all resort,
Excell'd in madnesse of the gut, drunke, eate
Past intermission, was most hugely great;
Yet had no fivers in him, nor no force:
In sight a Man, in mind a living Corse.
His true name was Arnaeus, for his mother
Impos'd it from his birth. And yet another
The City youth would give him (from the course
He after tooke, deriv'd out of the force
That Need held on him, which was up and downe
To run on all men's errands through the Towne)
Which sounded Irus. When whose gut was come,
He needs would barre Ulysses his owne home,
And fell to chiding him: " Old man," saide he,
" Your way out of the Entry quickly see
Be with faire Language taken, lest your stay
But little longer see you dragg'd away.
See, Sir. Observe you not how all these make
Direct signes at me, charging me to take
Your heeles and drag you out? But I take shame.
Rise yet, y'are best, lest we two play a game
At cuffes together." He bent browes, and saide:
" Wretch! I do thee no ill, nor once upbraide
Thy presence with a word, nor what mine eye
By all hands sees thee given one thought envy:
Nor shouldst thou envy others. Thou mayst see
The place will hold us both, and seem'st to me
A Begger like my self — which who can mend?
The Gods give most to whom they least are Friend:
The cheefe goods Gods give is in good to end.
But to the hands' strife, of which y'are so free,
Provoke me not, for feare you anger me,
And lest the old man, on whose scorne you stood,
Your lips and bosome make shake hands in blood.
I love my quiet well, and more will love
Tomorrow than to day. But if you move
My peace beyond my right, the warre you make
Will never after give you will to take
Ulysses' house into your begging walke."
" O Gods," saide he, " how volubly doth talke
This eating gulfe! And how his fume breakes out,
As from an old crackt Oven! Whom I will clout
So bitterly, and so with both hands mall
His chaps together, that his teeth shall fall
As plaine seene on the earth as any Sowe's
That ruts the Corne-fields or devoures the Mowes.
Come, close we now, that all may see what wrong
An old man tempts that takes at cuffes a yong."
Thus in the entry of those lofty Tow'rs,
These two with al splene spent their jarring pow'rs.
Antinous tooke it, laught, and saide: " O Friends,
We never had such sport. This Guest contends
With this vaste Begger at the Buffet's fight.
Come, joyne we hands, and screw up all their spight."
All rose in Laughters, and about them bore
All the ragg'd rout of beggers at the dore.
Then mov'd Antinous the victor's hire
To all the woo'rs thus: " There are now at fire
Two brests of Goat, both which let Law set downe
Before the man that wins the daye's renowne,
With all their fat and greavie. And of both
The glorious Victor shal preferre his tooth
To which he makes his choise of from us all,
And ever after banquet in our Hall
With what our boords yeeld — not a Begger more
Allow'd to share, but all keepe out at dore."
This he proposd, and this they all approv'd,
To which Ulysses answer'd: " O most lov'd,
By no meanes should an old man, and one old
In chiefe with sorrowes, be so over-bold
To combat with his yonger. But, alas,
Man's owne-ill-working belly needs will passe
This worke upon me, and enforce me too
To beate this fellow. But then you must doo
My age no wrong, to take my yonger's part
And play me foule play, making your stroke's smart
Helpe his to conquer — for you easly may
With your strengths crush me. Do then right, and lay
Your Honors on it in your oaths, to yield
His part no aide, but equall leave the field."
All swore his will. But then Telemachus
His Father's scoffes with comforts serious
Could not but answer, and made this reply:
" Guest! If thine owne powers cheere thy victory,
Feare no man's else that will not passe it free:
He fights with many that shall touch but thee.
I'le see thy guest-right paide. Thou heere art come
In my protection, and to this the summe
Of all these wooers (which Antinous are
And King Eurymachus) conjoyne their care."
Both vow'd it — when Ulysses, laying by
His upper weed, his inner beggery
Nere shew'd his shame, which he with rags prevented
Pluckt from about his Thighes, and so presented
Their goodly sight, which were so white and great,
And his large shoulders were to view so set
By his bare rags, his armes, his breast and all
So broad and brawny (their grace naturall
Being helpt by Pallas, ever standing nere)
That all the wooers his admirers were
Beyond all measure, mutuall whispers driven
Through all their cluster, saying: " Sure as heaven,
Poore Irus pull'd upon him bitter blowes.
Through his thin Garment what a Thigh he showes!"
They said, but Irus felt. His Cow-herd minde
Was mov'd at roote. But now he needs must finde
Facts to his brags, and forth at all parts fit
The servants brought him, all his artires smit
With feares and tremblings — which Antinous saw,
And saide: " Nay, now too late comes feare. No Law
Thou shouldst at first have given thy braggart vaine,
Nor should it so have swell'd, if terrors straine
Thy spirits to this passe for a man so old
And worne with penuries that still lay hold
On his ragg'd person. Howsoever, take
This vow from me for firme — that if he make
Thy forces stoope and prove his owne supreame,
I'le put thee in a Ship, and downe the streame
Send thee ashore where King Echetus raignes
(The roughest tyrant that the world containes)
And he will slit thy Nostrils, crop each eare,
Thy shame cut off and give it dogges to teare."
This shook his Nerves the more. But both were now
Brought to the Lists, and up did either throw
His heavy fists — Ulysses, in suspence
To strike so home that he should fright from thence
His Cow-herd soule (his trunke laide prostrate there),
Or let him take more leisure to his feare
And stoope him by degrees. The last shew'd best,
To strike him slightly, out of feare the rest
Would else discover him. But (peace now broke)
On his right shoulder Irus laide his stroke.
Ulysses strooke him just beneath the eare,
His jaw-bone broke, and made the blood appeare —
When straight he strew'd the dust, and made his crie
Stand for himselfe, with whom his teeth did lie,
Spit with his blood out; and against the ground
His heeles lay sprawling. Up the hands went round
Of all the wooers, all at point to dye
With violent laughters. Then the King did ply
The Begger's feete, and dragg'd him forth the Hall
Along the Entry to the gates and wall —
Where leaving him, he put into his hand
A Staffe, and bad him there use his command
On Swine and Dogs, and not presume to be
Lord of the guests or of the Beggery,
Since he of all men was the scum and curse —
And so bad please with that, or fare yet wurse.
Then cast he on his scrip, all patcht and rent,
Hung by a rotten cord, and backe he went
To greete the Entrie's threshold with his seat.
The wooers throng'd to him, and did entreat
With gentle words his conquest, laughing still,
Pray'd Jove and all the Gods to give his will
What most it wisht him and would joy him most,
Since he so happily had cleer'd their cost
Of that unsavoury morsell — whom they vow'd
To see with all their utmost haste bestow'd
Aboord a ship and for Epirus sent
To King Echetus, on whose Throne was spent
The worst man's seat that breath'd. And thus was grac't
Divine Ulysses, who with joy embrac't
Even that poore conquest. Then was set to him
The goodly Goat's breast promist (that did swim
In fat and greavy) by Antinous.
And from a Basket (by Amphinomus)
Was two Breads given him, who (besides) renown'd
His banquet with a golden Goblet cround,
And this high salutation: " Frolicke, Guest,
And be those riches that you first possest
Restor'd againe with full as many joyes
As, in your poore state, I see now annoyes."
" Amphinomus," saide he, " you seeme to me
Exceeding wise, as being the progeny
Of such a Father as autentique Fame
Hath told me was so — one of honour'd name
And great revennues in Dulichius;
His faire name, Nisus. He is blazon'd thus,
And you to be his Sonne, his wisedome heyring
As well as wealth, his state in nought empairing.
To prove which all waies, let me tell you this
(As warning you to shun the miseries
That follow full states, if they be not held
With wisedome still at full, and so compeld
To courses that abode not in their browes
By too much swindge their sodaine overthrowes) —
Of all things breathing, or that creepe on earth,
Nought is more wretched than a humane Birth.
Bless'd men thinke never they can cursed be,
While any power lasts to move a knee.
But when the blest Gods make them feele that smart,
That fled their Faith so as they had no hart,
They beare their sufferings, and what wel they might
Have cleerly shun'd they then meet in despight.
The Minde of Man flyes stil out of his way,
Unlesse God guide and prompt it every day.
I thought me once a blessed man with men,
And fashion'd me to all so counted then —
Did all injustice like them, what for Lust
Or any pleasure, never so unjust,
I could by powre or violence obtaine,
And gave them both in all their powres the raigne,
Bold of my Fathers and my Brothers still;
While which held good, my Arts seem'd never ill.
And thus is none held simply good or bad,
But as his will is either mist or had.
Al goods God's gifts man cals, how ere he gets them,
And so takes all, what price so ere God sets them —
Saies nought how ill they come, nor will controule
That Ravine in him, though it cost his soule.
And these parts here I see these wooers play,
Take all that fals, and all dishonors lay
On that man's Queen, that (tell your frends) doth bear
No long time's absence, but is passing neare.
Let God then guide thee home, lest he may meete
In his returne thy undeparted feete.
For when he enters and sees men so rude,
The quarrell cannot but in blood conclude."
This said, he sacrific'd, then drunke, and then
Referr'd the given Boule to the guide of men —
Who walk't away afflicted at his heart,
Shook head, and fear'd that these facts wold convert
To ill in th'end. Yet had not grace to flie:
Minerva staid him, being ordain'd to die
Upon the Lance of yong Ulyssides.
So downe he sate; and then did Pallas please
T'incline the Queene's affections to appeare
To all the wooers, to extend their cheare
To th'utmost lightning that still ushers death,
And made her put on all the painted sheath
That might both set her wooers' fancies hye,
And get her greater honor in the eye
Even of her Son and Soveraigne than before.
Who laughing yet (to shew her humor bore
No serious appetite to that light show)
She told Eurynome that not till now
She ever knew her entertaine desire
To please her wooers' eyes, but oft on fire
She set their hate in keeping from them still;
Yet now she pleas'd t'appeare, though from no will
To do them honor, vowing she would tell
Her son that of them that should fit him well
To make use of — which was, not to converse
Too freely with their pride, nor to disperse
His thoughts amongst them, since they us'd to give
Good words, but through them ill intents did drive.
Eurynome replied: " With good advise
You vow his counsaile and your open guise.
Go then, advise your Son; nor keepe more close
Your cheekes, stil drown'd in your eyes" overflowes,
But bathe your body, and with Balmes make cleere }
Your thickn'd count'nance: Uncomposed cheare
And ever mourning will the Marrow weare.
Nor have you cause to mourn; your Son hath now
Put on that vertue which (in chiefe) your vow
Whist (as your blessing) at his birth, might decke
His blood and person." " But forbeare to speake
Of Baths, or Balmings, or of beauty, now,"
The Queene replyed, " lest (urging comforts) you
Discomfort much, because the Gods have wonne
The spoile of my lookes since my Lord was gone.
But these must serve. Cal hither then to me
Hippodamia and Autonoe,
That those our traine additions may supply
Our owne deserts. And yet besides, not I
(With all my age) have learn'd the boldnesse yet
T'expose my selfe to men, unlesse I get
Some other Gracers." This said, forth she went
To call the Ladies, and much spirit spent
To make their utmost speed: for now their Queene
Would both her selfe shew and make them be seene.
But now Minerva other projects laid,
And through Icarius' daughter's Veines convaid
Sweet sleepe's desire — in whose soft fumes involv'd
She was as soone as laid, and quite dissolv'd
Were all her Lineaments. The Goddesse then
Bestow'd immortall gifts on her, that men
Might wonder at her beauties, and the beames
That glister in the deified supreames
She cleer'd her mourning count'nance up withall —
Even such a radiance as doth round empall
Crown'd Cytherea, when her order'd paces
Conduct the Bevy of the dancing Graces,
She added to her owne, more plumpe, more hie,
And fairer than the polisht Ivory
Rendring her parts and presence. This grace done,
Away the Deity flew; and up did ronne
Her lovely-wristed Ladies with a noise
That blew the soft chaines from her sleeping joyes —
When she her faire eyes wip't, and (gasping) saide:
" O me unblest! How deep a sweet sleepe spread
His shades about me! Would Diana pleas'd
To shoot me with a death no more diseas'd
As soone as might be, that no more my mone
Might waste my blood in weepings never done,
For want of that accomplisht vertue spher'd
In my lov'd Lord, to all the Greekes prefer'd."
Then she descended with her Maids, and tooke
Place in the Portall, whence her beamy looke
Reacht ev'ry wooer's heart. Yet cast she on
So thin a veyle that through it quite there shone
A grace so stolne, it pleasd above the cleere,
And sunke the knees of every wooer there.
Their minds so melted in love's vehement fires,
That to her bed she heightn'd all desires.
The Prince then coming neere, she said: " O Son,
Thy thoughts and judgments have not yet put on
That constancy in what becomes their good,
Which all expect in thee. Thy yonger blood
Did sparkle choicer spirits, but, arriv'd
At this ful growth, wherein their Forme hath thriv'd
Beyond the bounds of child-hood, and when now
Beholders should affirme: " This man doth grow
Like the rare son of his so matchles Sire
(His goodlinesse, his beauty, and his fire
Of soule aspir'd to) " — thou mak'st nothing good
Thy Fate, nor fortune, nor thy height of blood
In manage of thy actions. What a deed
Of foule desert hath thy grosse sufferance freed
Beneath thine owne Roofe? A poore stranger here
Us'd most unmanly! How will this appeare
To all the world, when Fame shall trumpet out
That thus and thus are our guests beate about
Our Court unrighted? Tis a blaze will show
Extreamly shamefull to your name and you."
" I blame you not, O Mother," he replide,
" That this cleere wrong sustain'd by me you chide:
Yet know I both the good and bad of all,
Being past the yeares in which yong errors fall.
But (all this knowne) skill is not so exact
To give (when once it knowes) things fit their fact.
I wel may doubt the prease of strangers here,
Who, bent to ill, and onely my Nerves nere,
May do it in despight. And yet the jarre
Betwixt our guest and Irus was no warre
Wrought by the wooers, nor our guest sustain'd
Wrong in that action, but the conquest gain'd.
And would to Jove, Minerva, and the Sun
That all your woo'rs might serve Contention
For such a purchase as the Begger made,
And wore such weak heads. Some should death invade
Strew'd in the Entry, some imbrew the hall,
Till every man had vengeance capitall;
Sattl'd like Irus at the Gates, his head
Every way nodding like one forfeited
To reeling Bacchus, knees nor feete his owne
To beare him where hee's better lov'd or knowne."
Their speeches given this end, Eurymachus
Began his Court-ship, and exprest it thus:
" Most wise Icarius" daughter, if all those
That did for Colchos ventrous saile dispose
For that rich purchase had before but seene
Earth's richer prize in th'Ithacensian Queene,
They had not made that voyage, but to you
Would all their vertues and their Beings vow.
Should all the world know what a worth you store,
To morrow than to day, and next light more,
Your Court should banquet — since to all Dames you
Are far preferr'd both for the grace of show,
In Stature, Beauty, Forme in every kinde
Of all parts outward, and for faultlesse minde."
" Alas," said she, " my Vertue, Body, Forme,
The Gods have blasted with that onely storme
That ravisht Greece to Ilion, since my Lord
(For that warre ship't) bore all my goods abord.
If he (return'd) should come, and governe here
My life's whole state, the grace of all things there
His guide would heighten, as the spirit it bore —
Which, dead in me, lives, given him long before.
A sad course I live now; heaven's sterne decree
With many an ill hath numb'd and deaded me.
He tooke life with him, when he tooke my hand
In parting from me to the Troyan strand.
These words my witnesse: " Woman! I conceive
That not all th'Achives bound for Troy shall leave
Their Native earth their safe returned bones,
Fame saying that Troy traines up approved sonnes
In deeds of Armes, brave putters off of shafts,
For winging Lances Maisters of their crafts,
Unmatched Riders, swift of foot, and streight
Can arbitrate a warre of deadliest weight.
Hope then can scarse fill all with life's supply,
And of all any failing, why not I?
Nor do I know if God hath marshall'd me
Amongst the safe-return'd, or his decree
Hath left me to the thraldome order'd there.
However, all cares be thy burthens here:
My Sire and Mother tend as much as now;
I further off, more neere in cares be you.
Your Son, to man's state grown, wed whom you will,
And (you gone) his care let his houshold fill. "
Thus made my Lord his will, which heaven sees prov'd
Almost at all parts — for the Sun, remov'd
Downe to his set, ere long wil leade the night
Of those abhorred Nuptials that should fright
Each worthy woman, which her second are
With any man that breaths, her first Lord's care
Dead, because he to flesh and blood is dead —
Which, I feare, I shal yeeld to, and so wed
A second husband; and my reason is
Since Jove hath taken from me all his blisse.
Whom God gives over, they themselves forsake;
Their greefes their joyes, their God their devill make.
And 'tis a great griefe, nor was seene till now
In any fashion of such men as woo
A good and wealthy woman and contend
Who shal obtaine her, that those men should spend
Her Beeves and best Sheepe as their cheefest ends;
But rather that her selfe and all her friends
They should with Banquets and rich gifts entreat:
Their life is death that live with others' meat."
Divine Ulysses much rejoyc't to heare
His Queene thus fish for gifts and keepe in cheare
Their hearts with hope that she would wed againe,
Her minde yet still her first intent retaine.
Antinous saw the wooers won to give,
And said: " Wise Queene, by all your meanes receive
What ever bounty any woo'r shall use:
Gifts freely given 'tis folly to refuse.
For know that we resolve not to be gone
To keepe our owne roofes, till of all some One
Whom best you like your long-woo'd love shal win."
This pleas'd the rest, and every one sent in
His present by the Herald. First had place
Antinous' gift, a robe of speciall grace,
Exceeding ful and faire, and twenty hewes
Chang'd luster to it — to which, choise of shewes,
Twelve massy plated Buttons all of Gold
Enricht the substance, made to fairly hold
The Robe together, all lac'd downe before,
Where Keepes and Catches both sides of it wore.
Eurymachus a golden Tablet gave,
In which did Art her choisest workes engrave,
And round about an Amber verge did run,
That cast a radiance from it like the Sun.
Eurydamas two servants had, that bore
Two goodly Earings, whose rich hollowes wore
Three Pearles in either, like so many eyes,
Reflecting glances radiant as the skies.
The King Pisander, great Polyctor's heire,
A Casket gave exceeding rich and faire.
The other, other wealthy gifts commended
To her faire hand, which took, and straight ascended
This Goddesse of her sex her upper State,
Her Ladies all her gifts elaborate
Up bearing after. All to dancing then
The wooers went, and song's delightfull straine,
In which they frolickt till the Evening came:
And then rais'd sable Hesperus his flame,
When, for their Lights within, they set up there
Three Lampes, whose weekes were wood exceeding sere
And passing porous, which they causd to burne,
Their matter ever minister'd by turne
Of several Hand-maids. Whom Ulysses (seeing
Too conversant with wooers, ill agreeing
With guise of maids) advisd in this faire sort:
" Maids of your long-lackt King, keepe you the port
Your Queene's chast presence beares? Go, up to her,
Imploy your Loomes or Rockes, and keepe ye there:
I'le serve to feed these lamps, shold these Lords' dances
Last til Aurora cheer'd us with her glances.
They cannot weary me, for I am one
Borne to endure when all men else have done."
They wantonly brake out in Laughters all,
Look't on each other, and to termes did fall
Cheek-proud Melantho, who was Dolius' seed,
Kept by the Queene — that gave her dainty breed
Fit for her daughter, and yet won not so
Her heart to her, to share in any wo
She suffer'd for her Lord. But she was great
With great Eurymachus, and her love's heat
In his bed quenched. And this cholericke thing
Bestow'd this railing Language on the King:
" Base Stranger, you are taken in your braine,
You talke so wildely. Never you againe
Can get where you were borne, and seeke your bed
In some Smithe's Hovill or the Market sted,
But heere you must take confidence to prate
Before all these, for feare can get no state
In your wine-hardy stomacke — or, 'tis like,
To prove your native garbe, your tongue will strike
On this side of your mouth still, being at best.
Is the man idle-brain'd for want of rest?
Or proud, because he beate the roguish begger?
Take heed, Sir, lest some better man beleager
Your eares with his fists, and set headlong hence
Your bold abode heere with your blood's expence."
He, looking sternly on her, answer'd her:
" Dog! What broad Language giv'st thou? I'le prefer
Your usage to the Prince, that he may fall
Foule on your faire limbes, til he tel them all."
This fray'd the wenches, and al straight got gone
In feare about their businesse, every one
Confessing he saide well. But he stood now
Close by the Cressets, and did lookes bestow
On all men there, his Braine employd about
Some sharper businesse than to dance it out —
Which had not long to go. Nor therefore would
Minerva let the wooers' spleenes grow cold
With too good usage of him, that his hart
Might fret enough and make his choller smart.
Eurymachus provok't him first, and made
His fellows laugh with a conceit he had
Fetcht farre from what was spoken long before,
That his poore forme perhaps some Deity bore.
" It well may chance," said he, " some God doth beare
This man's resemblance. For, thus standing nere
The glistering Torches, his slick't head doth throw
Beames round about it as those Cressets do —
For not a haire he hath to give it shade.
Say, wil thy heart serve t'undertake a Trade
For fitting wages? Should I take thee hence
To walke my grounds and looke to every Fence,
Or plant high trees, thy hire should raise thy forces,
Food store, and cloaths. But these same ydle courses
Thou art so prompt in that thou wilt not worke,
But forrage up and downe, and beg, and lurke
In every house whose Roofes hold any will
To feed such fellowes. That thy gut may fil
Gives end to all thy Beeing." He replyed:
" I wish at any worke we two were tryed,
In hight of Spring time, when heaven's lights are long —
I a good crook'd Sithe that were sharpe and strong,
You such another, where the grasse grew deepe,
Up by day breake, and both our labours keepe
Up til slow darknes eas'd the labouring light,
Fasting all day, and not a crum til night.
We then should prove our either workmanship.
Or if (againe) Beeves, that the goad or whip
Were apt t'obey before a tearing Plow,
Big, lusty beasts, alike in bulke and brow,
Alike in Labour and alike in strength,
Our taske foure Acres to be Till'd in length
Of one sole day — againe then you should try
If the dul glebe before the Plough should flye,
Or I a long Stitch could beare cleane and even.
Or lastly, if the guide of earth and heaven
Should stir sterne war up, either here or there,
And that at this day I had double Speare,
And Shield, and steele Caske fitting for my browes —
At this work likewise, midst the foremost blowes,
Your eyes should note me, and get little cause
To twit me with my bellie's sole applause.
But you affect t'affect with injurie,
Your minde ungentle, seeme in valour hie,
Because, " gainst few, and those not of the best,
Your conversation hath bene still profest.
But if Ulysses (landed on his earth,
And enter'd on the true right of his birth)
Should come and front ye, straight his ample Gates
Your feete would hold too narrow for your Fates."
He frown'd, rag'd, call'd him wretch, and vow'd
To be his death, since he durst prove so proud
Amongst so many to tell him so home
What he affected, askt if overcome
With wine he were, or (as his Minion said)
Talk't stil so idlely and were palsied
In his mind's instruments, or was proud because
He gat from Irus off with such applause?
With all which, snatching up a stoole, he threw,
When old Ulysses to the knees withdrew
Of the Dulichian Lord Amphinomus,
As if he fear'd him. His dart missing thus
His aged object, and his Page's hand
(A Boy that waited on his cup's command,
Now holding of an Ewre to him) he smit.
Downe fel the sounding Ewre, and after it
The guiltlesse Page lay sprawling in the dust,
And crying out — when all the wooers thrust
A tumult up amongst them, wishing all
The rogue had perisht in some Hospitall
Before his life there stirr'd such uprores up,
And with rude speeches spice their pleasure's cup —
And all this for a Begger, to fulfill
A filthy Proverbe: Good still yeelds to ill .
The Prince cried out on them, to let the bad
Obscure the good so, told them they were mad,
Abusd their banquet, and affirm'd some God
Tried maisteries with them, bad them take their load
Of food and wine, sit up or fal to bed
At their free pleasures — and since he gave head
To all their freedomes, why should they mistake
Their owne rich humors for a Begger's sake?
All bit their lips to be so taken downe
And taught the course that should have bin their own,
Admir'd the Prince, and saide he bravely spoke.
But Nisus' Son then strooke the equall stroke,
And saide: " O Friends, let no man here disdaine
To put up equall speeches, nor maintaine
With serious words an humor, nor with stroke
A Stranger in another's house provoke,
Nor touch the meanest servant, but confine
All these dissentions in a bolle of wine —
Which fill us, Cup-bearer, that, having done
Our nightly sacrifice, we may attone
Our powres with sleepe, resigning first the guest
Up to the Prince, that holds all interest
In his disposure here, the House being his
In just descent, and all the faculties.'
This all approv'd; when Noble Mulius
(Herald in chiefe to Lord Amphinomus)
The Wine distributed with reverend grace
To ev'ry wooer — when the Gods given place
With service fit, they serv'd themselves and tooke
Their parting Cups, till (when they all had shooke
The angry humor off) they bent to rest,
And every Wooer to severall Roofes addrest.