Discourse Between Two Dead Giants, Poem – Postscript
JOCO-SERIO.
STRANGE NEWS, OF A DISCOURSE BETWEEN Two dead Giants, expreſſed in an Epigram, to one Inquiſitive for News, and was compoſed by occaſion of a ſcurrilous Pamphlet, ENTITULED, A DIALOGUE BETWEEN COLBRANT and BRANDAMORE,
The two Giants in Guild-hall London.
Which Pamphlet was not only intended to abuſe this Author, and ſome particular perſons by name, but the ſaid City alſo, in the late Election of their Parliamentary MEMBERS.
Thereto is added an Antidote againſt all Ill News whatſoever, which proving effectual to many lately reputed Phanaticks, may poſſibly be vertual to ſome other.
Jeers will be ſelf-condemned,
And ſting leſs if contemned.
G. W.
London, Printed 1661.
JOCO-SERIO. Strange News, of a Diſcourſe between two dead Giants, expreſſed in an Epigram to one inquiſitive for News, and was compoſed by occaſion of a ſcurrilous Pamphlet, entituled, A Dialogue between COLBRANT and BRANDAMORE, the two Giants in Guild-hall, LONDON, &c.
FRiend, there is now, no Good news to be had,
And, I intend to publiſh none that's bad;
For, as Affairs yet ſtand, it may be treaſon
To ſpeak the Truth, if ſpoken out of ſeaſon;
And, though in ſeaſon ſpoken, he that ſpeaks it,
May ſuffer by his folly who miſtakes it.
Yet (now I think upon't) a little ſcrap
I met withall this morning, by meer hap,
Which may be ſafely told: for nor to State
Or Church, but to my ſelf it doth relate;
And, it hath made me ſmile, with ſcorn, to ſee
What heed, Great men, begin to take of me.
The Lord Mayor, & ſome Aldermen have known me
Long time; yea, men of all degrees do own me
With good reſpect, for whoſe eſteem I care;
And ſome, who of the beſt Extraction are.
But, that's no News; or, none, at leaſt, compar'd
To that which now ſhall be to thee declar'd:
For, be it known, that, though obſcurely born,
I am now honor'd with a Publick ſcorn
(Divulg'd in print) as if reputed one
Who hath deſerved to be thought upon
Among thoſe perſons, who are in theſe times
Renowned for thoſe Vertues, or thoſe Crimes
Which in this Age muſt puniſhment receive,
Or honour; and next Age their judgement have,
When they, who are no parties in the cauſe,
Shall judge men, both by Gods & Natures Laws.
Mean while, their cenſures muſt be undergone
Who neither know me, nor what I have done:
For, they, who never heard of me; who never
Did ſee me, nor ſhall hear of me for ever,
Take notice of me, to my wonderment,
And, not a little to my good content;
Since, peradventure, it may ſhortly bring
My perſon to be known unto the King,
Who, if he truly know me would conceive
That, uſefully to ſerve him I might live,
Although traduc'd I am by ſome of them,
Who, in another mode, have ſerved him.
If thou haſt read in Legends heretofore
Of big-bon'd COLBRANT and great BRANDAMORE
The Giants in GVILD-HAL; be pleas'd to know
That, in a Dialogue betwixt thoſe two
My name is mention'd, with as much applauſe
As I could wiſh, from Champions of that Cauſe
For which they ſtand; and to as good effect
As I can poſſibly from thoſe expect,
Of whom I never yet much notice took,
And, to whom, in my life, I never ſpoke.
Theſe two Goliahs (things, as big almoſt
As he, who once defied Iſraels Hoſt,
(And had his Cockſcomb crackt by little David,
Becauſe himſelf ſo rudely he behaved)
Theſe Aſcaparts forſooth, I know not how,
Pretend to be of my acquaintance now;
And, this is ſuch a Novelty to me
That I have ſent the ſame, as News to thee.
For, News it is to me, and ſtrange News too,
That BUGGS with whom I never had to do,
Should ſhew themſelves, in my Affairs as witty
As in the great Concernments of their City,
Where they have had a place to them aſſign'd
At Publick meetings, now time out of minde.
Tis News to me, that, creatures of their frame,
To any purpoſe, ſhould repeat my name,
Since, probably, they do not know their own,
But, are the greateſt Block-heads in the Town,
Except it be thoſe fooliſh Pamphleters
That, uſe to write ſuch Dialogues as theirs;
(Or, baſe Invectives tending to th' increaſe
Of Diſcord, by the breach of civil peace)
And, who, mens honeſt fames to overthrow,
Shoot poyſoned Arrows from an unſeen bow,
For, theſe are much more blockiſh; and this Nation
Will never thrive, whilſt theſe have toleration.
However, this perhaps forewarn me may,
That ſome as mighty, and as wiſe as they
Will mention me ere long, to worſe effect,
And with a more malicious diſ-reſpect,
Than theſe Detractors hitherto have done,
Though me, they ſeem not, yet to think upon.
But, be it, as it muſt be; Scorns and Jeers,
Have hung ſo long, as Jewels at mine ears,
That, whether my Reproach be leſs or greater,
I ſhall my ſelf eſteem, nor worſe, nor better
For what, by others, is done, ſpoke, or thought,
Whilſt I, think, ſpeak, and do the things I ought.
He, that takes heed, what to himſelf relates,
Needs not care what the world, without him, prates
This, is my beſt News, at this preſent time;
That which it wants in Reaſon, take in Rime.
Farewel.
A Poſtſcript.
BUt, take this Poſt ſcript too (which, whilſta taper
One lights to ſeal it) ſhall fill up this paper.
Know, this was not intended to Retort
Or Vindicate; but, only, writ in ſport.
He that aſperſeth me, himſelf doth hide
Like thoſe Bandetti by the high-way ſide,
Who, cowardly do ſhoot unſeen, and flay
Before they dare to ſeize upon their prey;
Yet, though I knew him, I have lately got
So tride a Charm againſt all Paper-ſhot,
That, onelyonly, ſmiling on him with diſdain
(To let him know he ſhoots at me in vain)
I ſcarcely ſhould, by way of complement
Spare him ſo many words, as Marſhal ſpent
On his Traducer, when, this Verſe he flung him,
Nos, ab hac ſcabie, tenemus unguem.
Whoſe ſenſe is (in the Language of this Iſle)
To ſcratch this SCAB, my nail I'le not defile.
Know alſo, that the Cauſe I do not dread
Thoſe fearful Rumours which are lately ſpread,
Is not, for that, I think, or do fore-ſee
Such things, are things impoſſible to be,
For, when I heed, that ſtill the ſelf-ſame path
Is trodden, which an evil tendance hath;
And, that, moſt men ruſh forward in that Round
Wherein their Predeceſſors ruine found;
When I perceive the Vices heretofore,
Not onelyonly to be ſtill the ſame, but more;
That, nor GODS Judgements, nor his Mercies, whether
Paſt, preſent, ſingle, or joyn'd both together
Regarded ſeem; nor wholſome counſels given
By men, or timely warnings daign'd from heaven,
But, that, ſtill, wicked wiſhes, helliſh prayers,
Revengeful Projects, Jealouſies, Deſpairs,
And curſed ſpeakings, daily aggravate
That Animoſity and ſecret hate,
Which at the firſt begun our ſad Diſtractions;
And are fomented ſtill in ſeveral Factions,
Through that neglect of Juſtice and Compaſſion
Which might effect true Reconciliation;
I fear, what may to other men befall,
But, fear not in my own reſpect, at all,
Becauſe, that, whereto things now feared tend,
Have brought my hopes already to an end,
As they concern this world; except, refin'de
GOD ſhall reſtore them, when they are calcin'd.
The Rumors which I hear, to me ſeem toyes,
Like Squibs and Crackers which affrighten boyes,
For, his Protection I am ſheltred under
Who ſpeaks in love, ev'n when he ſpeaks in thunder.
His Judgements are upon us, but the flame
Will burn them, who are kindling of the ſame;
For, by the paths which I ſee by them trod,
I finde our Foes, are not the friends of GOD;
And, that when all our droſs, away is fum'd,
They ſhall be purged too, or elſe conſum'd.
He that ſecures me, will ſecure all thoſe
Who ſhall their confidence in him repoſe.
No cauſe have any men to fear ill tidings,
Who underneath GODS Umbrage have abidings:
For, whatſoe're ſucceeds, yea, come what will,
It comes to them for Good, and not for Ill.
That will new-make them, which their foes deſtroies,
Diſgrace ſhall honor them, grief bring them joyes;
Ev'n Death it ſelf, ſhall be true lifes poſſeſſing,
And ev'ry Curſe be turn'd into a Bleſſing.
Then, all we have to do, is, down to ſit
Beneath this ſhade; all things to GOD commit.
Pray to him for our ſelves, our friends and foes,
And praiſe him heartily for all he does.
If this be done, we ſhall be free from fears,
Although the world doth all it can, or dares.
G. W.
FINIS.
End of the text · George Wither, Discourse Between Two Dead Giants (1661)