Imágenes de página



squeeze the juice of three or four oranges.

Lastly, you may either put into the pike If this direction to catch a pike do you with the oysters two cloves of garlic, and no good, yet I am certain this direction take it whole out when the pike is cut how to roast him when he is caught is off the spit; or, to give the sauce a haut choicely good, for I have tried it; and it gout, let the dish into which you let the is somewhat the better for not being com pike fall be rubbed with it; the using or not mon. But with my direction you must using of this garlic is left to your dis- [60 take this caution, that your pike must cretion. not be a small one; that is, it must be more than half a yard, and should be bigger.

JEREMY TAYLOR (1613–1667) First open your pike at the gills, and if need be cut also a little slit towards the

From HOLY DYING belly. Out of these take his guts, and keep his liver, which you are to shred very It is a mighty change that is made by small with thyme, sweet marjoram, and the death of every person, and it is visible winter-savory. To these put some pickled | to us who are alive. Reckon but from oysters, and some anchovies, two or three, the sprightfulness of youth and the fair (both these last whole, for the anchovies cheeks and full eyes of childhood, from will melt, and the oysters should not). the vigorousness and strong flexure of To these you must add also a pound (20 the joints of five-and-twenty, to the of sweet butter, which you are to mix with hollowness and dead paleness, to the the herbs that are shred; and let them all be loathsomeness and horror of a three days' well salted (if the pike be more than a yard burial, and we shall perceive the (10 long, then you may put into these herbs distance to be very great and very strange. more than a pound; or if he be less, then But so have I seen a rose newly springless butter will suffice). These being thus ing from the clefts of its hood, and at mixed, with a blade or two of mace, must first it was fair as the morning, and full be put into the pike's belly, and then his with the dew of heaven as a lamb's fleece; belly sewed up. Then you are to thrust | but when a ruder breath had forced open the spit through his mouth out at his 130 | its virgin modesty and dismantled its too tail; and then take four, or five, or six youthful and unripe retirements, it began split sticks or very thin laths, and a con- to put on darkness and to decline to softvenient quantity of tape or filetting. ness and the symptoms of a sickly (20 These laths are to be tied round about the age: it bowed the head and broke its pike's body, from his head to his tail, and stalk, and at night, having lost some of the tape tied somewhat thick to prevent | its leaves and all its beauty, it fell into his breaking or falling off from the spit. the portion of weeds and outworn faces. Let him be roasted very leisurely, and The same is the portion of every man often basted with claret wine and an- and every woman: the heritage of worms chovies and butter mixed together, and [40 and serpents, rottenness and cold disalso with what moisture falls from him honor, and our beauty so changed that into the pan. When you have roasted our acquaintance quickly know us not; him sufficiently you are to hold under | and that change mingled with so much [30 him, when you unwind or cut the tape horror, or else meets so with our fears and that ties him, such a dish as you purpose weak discoursings, that they who six to eat him out of; and let him fall into it | hours ago tended upon us, either with with the sauce that is roasted in his belly; charitable or ambitious services, cannot and by this means the pike will be kept without regret stay in the room alone unbroken and complete. Then to the | where the body lies stripped of its life sauce which was within him, and also 150 and honor. I have read of a fair young that sauce in the pan, you are to add a German gentleman, who, living, often fit quantity of the best butter, and to | refused to be pictured, but put off the

the ough to

sit pon us inervants of

[ocr errors]

importunity of his friends' desire by [40 more; and where our kings have been giving way that, after a few days' burial, crowned their ancestors lie interred, and they might send a painter to his vault, they must walk over their grandsire's and, if they saw cause for it, draw the head to take his crown. There is an image of his death unto the life. They | acre sown with royal seed, the copy of the did so, and found his face half eaten, and greatest change, from rich to naked, from his midriff and backbone full of serpents; ceiled roofs to arched coffins, from (100 and so he stands pictured among his living like gods to die like men. There is armed ancestors. So does the fairest enough to cool the flames of lust, to abate beauty change, and it will be as bad for the heights of pride, to appease the itch you and me; and then what servants (50 of covetous desires, to sully and dash out shall we have to wait upon us in the grave? | the dissembling colors of a lustful, artiwhat friends to visit us? what officious ficial, and imaginary beauty. There the people to cleanse away the moist and warlike and the peaceful, the fortunate unwholesome cloud reflected upon our and the miserable, the beloved and the faces from the sides of the weeping vaults, despised princes mingle their dust, and which are the longest weepers for our pay down their symbol of mortality, (110 funeral?

and tell all the world that when we die This discourse will be useful if we con our ashes shall be equal to kings', and sider and practise by the following rules our accounts easier, and our pains or our and considerations respectively. (60 crowns shall be less. To my apprehen

1. All the rich and all the covetous sion, it is a sad record which is left by men in the world will perceive, and all the Athenaeus concerning Ninus, the great world will perceive for them, that it is Assyrian monarch, whose life and death but an ill recompense for all their cares are summed up in these words: “Ninus that by this time all that shall be left the Assyrian had an ocean of gold and will be this, that the neighbors shall say, other riches more than the sand in [120 "He died a rich man;" and yet his wealth the Caspian Sea; he never saw the stars, will not profit him in the grave, but and perhaps he never desired it; he never hugely swell the sad accounts of dooms stirred up the holy fire among the Magi, day. And he that kills the Lord's (70 nor touched his god with the sacred rod people with unjust or ambitious wars, for according to the laws; he never offered an unrewarding interest shall have this sacrifice, nor worshipped the deity, nor character, that he threw away all the administered justice, nor spake to his days of his life that one year might be people, nor numbered them; but he was reckoned with his name, and computed most valiant to eat and drink, and having by his reign or consulship; and many men mingled his wines, he threw the rest (130 by great labors and affronts, many in upon the stones. This man is dead; bedignities and crimes, labor only for a hold his sepulchre; and now hear where pompous epitaph and a loud title upon Ninus is. Sometimes I was Ninus, and their marble; whilst those into whose (80 drew the breath of a living man, but now possessions their heirs or kindred are am nothing but clay. I have nothing entered are forgotten, and lie unregarded but what I did eat, and what I served to as their ashes, and without concernment myself in lust; that was and is all my poror relation, as the turf upon the face of tion. The wealth with which I was estheir grave. A man may read a sermon, teemed blessed, my enemies, meeting the best and most passionate that ever together, shall bear away, as the mad (140 man preached, if he shall but enter into Thyades carry a raw goat. I am gone the sepulchres of kings. In the same to hell; and when I went thither I neither Escurial where the Spanish princes live carried gold, nor horse, nor silver chariot. in greatness and power, and decree 190 | I that wore a mitre am now a little heap war or peace, they have wisely placed a | of dust." I know not anything that can cemetery, where their ashes and their better represent the evil condition of a glory shall sleep till time shall be no | wicked man or a changing greatness.

From the greatest secular dignity to dust uncertain significations; for whatsoever and ashes his nature bears him; and is disposed to happen by the order of from thence to hell his sins carry him, (150 natural causes or civil counsels may be and there he shall be for ever under the rescinded by a peculiar decree of Providominion of chains and devils, wrath and dence, or be prevented by the death of an intolerable calamity. This is the re- | the interested persons; who, while their ward of an unsanctified condition, and a hopes are full, and their causes congreatness ill-gotten or ill-administered. joined, and the work brought forward,

2. Let no man extend his thoughts, or and the sickle put into the harvest, [210 let his hopes wander towards future and and the first-fruits offered and ready to be far-distant events and accidental con eaten, even then, if they put forth their tingencies. This day is mine and yours, hand to an event that stands but at the but ye know not what shall be on (160 door, at that door their body may be carthe morrow; and every morning creeps ried forth to burial before the expedition out of a dark cloud, leaving behind it an | shall enter into fruition. When Richilda, ignorance and silence deep as midnight the widow of Albert, earl of Ebersberg, and undiscerned as are the phantasms had feasted the emperor Henry III, that make a chrisom-child to smile; so and petitioned in behalf of her nephew that we cannot discern what comes here Welpho for some lands formerly pos- (220 after, unless we had a light from heaven sessed by the earl her husband, just as brighter than the vision of an angel, even the emperor held out his hand to signify the spirit of prophecy. Without rev his consent, the chamber floor suddenly elation we cannot tell whether we (170 fell under them, and Richilda, falling shall eat tomorrow, or whether a squin- | upon the edge of a bathing-vessel, was ancy shall choke us; and it is written in bruised to death, and stayed not to see the unrevealed folds of divine predestina- | her nephew sleep in those lands which tion that many who are this day alive | the emperor was reaching forth to her, shall tomorrow be laid upon the cold and placed at the door of restitution. earth, and the women shall weep over 3. As our hopes must be confined, so (230 their shroud, and dress them for their must our designs: let us not project long funeral. St. James, in his Epistle, notes designs, crafty plots, and diggings SO the folly of some men his contemporaries, | deep that the intrigues of a design shall who were so impatient of the event (180 never be unfolded till our grandchildren of tomorrow, or the accidents of next have forgotten our virtues or our vices. year, or the good or evils of old age, that The work of our soul is cut short, facile, they would consult astrologers and witches, sweet, and plain, and fitted to the small oracles and devils, what should befall portions of our shorter life; and as we them the next calends—what should be must not trouble our inquiry, so neither the event of such a voyage-what God must we intricate our labor and pur- (240 had written in his book concerning the poses with what we shall never enjoy. This success of battles, the election of em- | rule does not forbid us to plant orchards, perors, the heirs of families, the price of which shall feed our nephews with their merchandise, the return of the Tyrian (190 fruit, for by such provisions they do somefleet, the rate of Sidonian carpets; and thing towards an imaginary immortality, as they were taught by the crafty and and do charity to their relatives; but such lying demons, so they would expect projects are reproved which discompose the issue; and oftentimes by disposing our present duty by long and future their affairs in order towards such events, designs: such which, by casting our labors really did produce some little accidents to events at distance, make us less to [250 according to their expectation, and that remember our death standing at the made them trust the oracles in greater | door. It is fit for a man to work for his things, and in all. Against this he opposes day's wages, or to contrive for the hire his counsel that we should not search (200 of a week, or to lay a train to make proafter forbidden records, much less by | visions for such a time as is within our

eye, and in our duty, and within the usual mansion prepared for us above, where periods of man's life, for whatsoever eternity is the measure, felicity is the state, is made necessary is also made pru angels are the company, the Lamb is (310 dent; but while we plot and busy our the light, and God is the portion and inselves in the toils of an ambitious war, (260 heritance. or the levies of a great estate, night enters in upon us, and tells all the world how like fools we lived and how deceived and miserably we died. Seneca tells of Senecio JOHN MILTON (1608–1674) Cornelius, a man crafty in getting, and tenacious in holding, a great estate, and

L'ALLEGRO one who was as diligent in the care of his body as of his money, curious of his Hence, loathèd Melancholy, health as of his possessions, that he all Of Cerberus and blackest Midnight born day long attended upon his sick and (270 | In Stygian cave forlorn, dying friend; but when he went away 'Mongst horrid shapes and shrieks and was quickly comforted, supped merrily, sights unholy! went to bed cheerfully, and on a sudden Find out some uncouth cell, being surprised by a squinancy, scarce Where brooding darkness spreads his drew his breath until the morning, but jealous wings, by that time died, being snatched from And the night-raven sings; the torrent of his fortune, and the swell | There under ebon shades and lowing tide of wealth, and a likely hope browed rocks, bigger than the necessities of ten men. As ragged as thy locks, This accident was much noted then in [280 In dark Cimmerian desert ever dwell. 10 Rome, because it happened in so great a But come, thou Goddess fair and free, fortune, and in the midst of wealthy de In heaven yclept. Euphrosyne, signs; and presently it made wise men to And by men heart-easing Mirth; consider how imprudent a person he is who Whom lovely Venus, at a birth, disposes of ten years to come when he is With two sister Graces more, not lord of tomorrow.

To ivy-crowned Bacchus bore;
Or whether (as some sagersing)

The frolic wind that breathes the spring, 5. Since we stay not here, being people Zephyr, with Aurora playing, but of a day's abode, and our age is | As he met her once a-Maying, like that of a fly, and contemporary with There on beds of violets blue a gourd, we must look somewhere else (290 And fresh-blown roses washed in dew, for an abiding city, a place in another | Filled her with thee, a daughter fair, country to fix our house in, whose walls So buxom, 3 blithe, and debonair. and foundation is God, where we must Haste thee, nymph, and bring with thee 25 find rest, or else be restless forever. For Jest, and youthful Jollity, whatsoever ease we can have or fancy Quips and cranks and wanton wiles, here is shortly to be changed into sadness | Nods and becks and wreathèd smiles, or tediousness; it goes away too soon Such as hang on Hebe's cheek, like the periods of our life, or stays too And love to live in dimple sleek; 30 long like the sorrows of a sinner; its own Sport that wrinkled Care derides, weariness, or a contrary disturbance, 1300 And Laughter holding both his sides. is its load; or it is eased by its revolution Come, and trip it as you go, into vanity and forgetfulness; and where On the light fantastic toe; either there is sorrow or an end of joy, And in thy right hand lead with thee 35 there can be no true felicity; which, be The mountain nymph, sweet Liberty; cause it must be had by some instrument, And if I give thee honor due, and in some period of our duration, we | Mirth, admit me of thy crew, must carry up our affections to the called. ? more wisely.

3 sprightly.






To live with her, and live with thee, Sometimes, with secure delight,
In unreprovèd pleasures free:

The upland hamlets will invite,
To hear the lark begin his flight,

When the merry bells ring round, And singing, startle the dull night, And the jocund rebecksø sound From his watch-tower in the skies,

To many a youth and many a maid 95 Till the dappled dawn doth rise;

Dancing in the chequered shade; Then to come in spite of sorrow, 45 And young and old come forth to play And at my window bid good-morrow, On a sunshine holiday, Through the sweet-briar or the vine, Till the livelong daylight fail: Or the twisted eglantine;

Then to the spicy nut-brown ale, 100 While the cock, with lively din,

With stories told of many a feat, Scatters the rear of darkness thin,

How faery Mab the junkets eat. And to the stack, or the barn-door, She was pinched and pulled, she said; Stoutly struts his dames before:

And he, by friar's lanterno led, Oft listening how the hounds and horn Tells how the drudging goblin sweat 105 Cheerly rouse the slumbering morn, To earn his cream-bowl duly set, From the side of some hoar hill, 55 When in one night, ere glimpse of morn, Through the high wood echoing shrill: His shadowy flail hath threshed the corn Sometime walking, not unseen,

That ten day-laborers could not end; By hedge-row elms, on hillocks green, Then lies him down, the lubber fiend, 110 Right against the eastern gate .

And, stretched out all the chimney's Where the great sun begins his state, 60 length, Robed in flames and amber light,

Basks at the fire his hairy strength, The clouds in thousand liveries dight; And crop-full out of doors he flings, While the ploughman, near at hand, Ere the first cock his matin rings. Whistles o'er the furrowed land,

Thus done the tales, to bed they creep, 115 And the milkmaid singeth blithe,

By whispering winds soon lulled asleep. And the mower whets his scythe,

Towered cities please us then, And every shepherd tells his tale

And the busy hum of men, Under the hawthorn in the dale.

Where throngs of knights and barons bold, Straight mine eye hath caught new pleas- In weeds of peace high triumphs hold, 120 ures

With store of ladies, whose bright eyes Whilst the landskip round it measures: 70 | Rain influence, and judge the prize Russet lawns and fallows grey,

Of wit or arms, while both contend Where the nibbling flocks do stray;

To win her grace whom all commend. Mountains on whose barren breast

There let Hymen oft appear

125 The laboring clouds do often rest;

In saffron robe, with taper clear, Meadows trim with daisies pied, 75 And pomp and feast and revelry, Shallow brooks and rivers wide;

With mask and antique pageantry; Towers and battlements it sees

Such sights as youthful poets dream Bosomed high in tufted trees,

On summer eves by haunted stream. 130 Where perhaps some beauty lies,

Then to the well-trod stage anon, The cynosure of neighboring eyes. 80 If Jonson's learned sock be on, Hard by, a cottage chimney smokes Or sweetest Shakespeare, Fancy's child, From betwixt two agèd oaks,

Warble his native wood-notes wild. Where Corydon and Thyrsis met

And ever, against eating cares,

135 Are at their savory dinner set

Lap me in soft Lydian airs, Of herbs and other country messes, 85 Married to immortal verse, Which the neat-handed Phillis dresses; Such as the meeting soul may pierce, And then in haste her bower she leaves, In notes with many a winding bouto With Thestylis to bind the sheaves; Of linked sweetness long drawn out, 140 Or, if the earlier season lead,

With wanton heed and giddy cunning, To the tanned haycock in the mead. 90 The melting voice through mazes running, 1 landscape.

2 center of observation. I 3 fiddles. will o'the wisp. awkward. turn.

« AnteriorContinuar »