Classic Poem

As it was presented in Latine by Divines and Others, before his Maiestye in Cambridge, by way of enterlude, stiled,

LIBER NOVUS DE ADVENTU REGIS AD CANTABRIGIAM,
faithfully done into English, with Some liberall additions

It is not yet a fortnight, since
Lutetia entertain'd our Prince,
And vented hath a studyed Toy,
As long as was the siege of Troy ;
And spent her selfe for full five dayes
In Speeches, Exercise, and Playes.

To trim the towne great care before
Was tane by th' Lord Vicechancellour;
Both morne and Even he cleans'd the way,
The streetes he gravell'd thrice a day:
One strike of march-dust for to see,
No Proverbe would give more then hee.

Their Colledges' were new bepainted,
Their Founders eke, were new besainted;
Nothing escap't; nor post, nor doore,
Nor gate, nor rayle, nor bawde, nor whore.
You could not know, oh strange mishappe!
Whither you saw the Towne , or Mappe .

But the pure house of Emanuel
Would not be like proud Iesabel ,
Nor shew her selfe before the King
An Hypocrite, or painted thing:
But, that the wayes might all prove faire,
Conceiv'd a tedious mile of Prayer.

Upon the look't for Seventh of March
Out went the Townsmen all in starch,
Both Band and beard into the fielde;
Where one a Speech could hardly weeld:
For needes he would begin his stile,
The King being from him halfe a mile.

They gave the King a peece of Plate,
Which they hop'd neuer came too late;
But cry'd, oh looke not in, great King;
For there is in it iust nothing.
And so preferr'd, with tune and gate,
A Speech, as empty as their plate.

Now, as the King came neere the towne,
Each one ran crying up and downe,
Alas, poore Oxford , thou'rt undone.
For now the King's past Trompington ;
Riding upon his brave grey dapple,
And sees the toppe of Kings-Colledge Chappell.
Next rode his Lordshipp on a Nagg,
Whose coat was blew, whose ruff was shagg,
And then began his Reverence
To speake most eloquent Non-sense:
See how (quoth he) most mighty Prince,
For very ioy my horse doth wince.

What cryes the towne? what wee? (say'd hee)
What cryes the University?
What cry the boyes? what ev'ry thing?
Behold, behold, yon comes the King:
And ev'ry period he bedecks
With En & Ecce venit Rex .

Oft have I warn'd, (quoth he) our durt
That no silke stockins should be hurt;
But wee in vaine strive to be fine,
Unlesse your Graces Sun doth shine;
And, with the beames of your bright Eye,
You will be pleas'd our streetes to dry.

Now come wee to the wonderment
Of Christendome , and eke of Kent ,
The Trinity ; which, to surpasse,
Doth deck her spokesman by a glasse:
Who, clad in gay and silken weedes,
Thus opes his mouth, harke how he speedes:

I wonder what your Grace doth here,
Who have expected beene twelue yeare,
And this your Sonne, faire Carolus ,
That is soe Iacobissimus .
Here's none, of all, your Grace refuses;
You are most wellcome to our Muses.

Although wee have noe bells to iangle,
Yet can wee shew a faire Quadrangle,
Which, though it ne're was grac't with King,
Yet sure it is a goodly thing.
My warning's short, noe more I'le say;
Soone you shall see a gallant play.

But nothing was so much admir'd
As were their Playes soe well attir'd;
Nothing did win more praise of mine
Then did their Actors most Divine :
So did they drinke their healths divinely,
So did they daunce, and skipp so finely.

Their playes had sundry grave wise factors,
A perfect Diocesse of Actors
Upon the stage: for I am sure that
There was both Bishopp, Pastour, Curat :
Nor was their labour light, or small;
The charge of some, was Pastorall .

Our Playes were certainly much worse;
For they had a brave Hobby-horse,
Which did present unto his Grace
A wondrous witty ambling pace:
But wee were chiefly spoyld by that
Which was six howres of God knowes what .

His Lordshipp then was in a rage,
His Lordshipp lay upon the stage,
His Lordshipp cry'd all would bee marr'd,
His Lordshipp lou'd alife the Guard,
And did invite those MIGHTY MEN
To what thinke you? even to a hen .

Hee knew, he was to use their might
To helpe to keepe the doore at Night,
And well bestow'd he thought his hen,
That they might Tolebooth Oxford Men:
Hee thought it did become a Lord
To threaten with that Bugg-beare word.

Now passe wee to the Civill Law,
And eke the Doctors of the Spaw ,
Who all perform'd their parts soe well:
Sir Edward Ratcliff bore the bell,
Who was, by the Kings owne appointment,
To speake of Spells, and Magick Ointment.

The Doctors of the Civill Law
Urg'd ne'ere a reason worth a straw;
And, though they went in silk and satten,
They Thomson-like clipp't the King's latine;
But yet his Grace did pardon then
All treasons against Priscian .

Here noe man spake ought to the point,
But all they sayd was out of ioynt;
Just like the Chappell ominous
In th' Colledge called God with us ;
Which truly doth stand much awry,
Just North and South, yes verily .

Philosophers did well their parts,
Which prov'd them Maisters of their Arts;
Their Moderatour was noe foole,
Hee farr from Cambridge kept a Schoole:
The Country did such store afford,
The Proctors might not speake a word.

But to conclude, the King was pleas'd,
And of the Court the Towne was easd:
Yet — Oxford (thou deare Sister) harke it —
The King is gon but to New-Market ,
And comes againe ere it be long;
Then you may make another song.

The King being gon from Trinity ,
They made a scramble for Degree;
Maisters of all sorts, and all Ages,
Keepers, Subcizers, Lackeyes, Pages,
Who all did throng to come aboard,
With, pray make mee now, good my Lord .

They prest his Lordship wondrous hard,
His Lordshipp then did want the Guard:
So did they throng him for the nonce,
Untill he blest them all at once,
And cry'd: Vos bodiissime ,
Omnes Magistri estote.

Nor is this all which wee doe sing,
For of their praise the world must ring.
Reader, unto your tackling looke,
For there is comming forth a booke
Will spoile Ioseph Barnesius
The sale of Rex Platonicus .