No More Learning

I asked him where I was ? Pointing he showed

Oxford's old towers, once the learned arts'

abode ;
Once great in fame, now a piratic port.
Where Romish priests, and elvish monks

resort.
He added ; near a new-built college stood.
Endowed by Plato, for the public good ;
Thither allured by learned honest men,
Plato vouchsafed once more to live njxaiii.



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OP MARVELL. 195

Securely there I might myself repose,

From ray fierce griefs, and my more cruel foes.

Tired with long flights, e'en hunted down with

fear,
The welcome news my drooping soul did cheer.
His pleasing words shortened the time and way.
And me beguiled at Plato's house to stay.
When we came in, he told me after rest,
He'd show me Plato, and's Venetian guest :
I scarce replied, with weariness oppressed ;
To my desired apartment I repaired,
Invoking sleep, and heaven's almighty guard.
My waking cares, and stabbing frights recede,
And nodding sleep dropped on my drowsy head.
At last the summons of a busy bell.
And glimmering lights did sleep's kind mists

dispel.
From bed I stole, and creeping by the wall.
Through a small chink I spied a spacious hall ;
Tapers, as thick as stai*s, did shed their light
Around the place, and made a day of night.
The curious art of some great master's hand
Adorned the room : Hyde, CliiFord, Danby, stand
In one large piece ; next them, the two Dutch

wars
In bloody colours paint our fatal jars ;
Here London flames in clouds of smoke aspire,
Done to tlie life, I'd almost cried out fire !
But living figures did my eyes divert
From these, and many more of wond'rous art.



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196 THE rOEMS

There entered in three mercenary bands :
The different captains had distinct commands.
The beggar's desperate troop did first appear,

Littleton led, proud S re had the rear.

The disguised papists under Garroway,
Talbot lieutenant, none had better pay.
Next greedy Lee led party-coloured slaves ;
Deaf fools i' the right, i* the wrong sagacious

knaves,

Brought up by M : then a nobler train,

In malice mighty, impotent in brain,

The Pope's solicitors brought into the hall,

Not guilty lay, much guilty spiritual.

I also spied behind a private screen,

Colbert and Portsmouth, York and Mazarine.

Immediately in close cabal they join,

And all applaud the glorious design.

'Gainst me, and my loved senate's free-bom

breath.
Dire threats I heard, the hall did echo death.
A curtain drawn, another scene appeared,
A tinkling bell, a mumbling priest I heard.
At elevation every knee adored
The baker's craft, infallible*s vain lord.
When Catiline with vipers did conspire
To murder Rome, and bury it in fire,
A sacramental bowl of human gore.
Each villain took, and as he drank he swore.
The cup denied, to make their plot complete.