The incomparable poem Gondibert vindicated from the wit-combats of four esquires, Clinias, Dametas, Sancho, and Jack Pudding Wild, Robert, 1609-1679. This text is an enriched version of the TCP digital transcription A66001 of text R33656 in the English Short Title Catalog (Wing W2130). Textual changes and metadata enrichments aim at making the text more computationally tractable, easier to read, and suitable for network-based collaborative curation by amateur and professional end users from many walks of life. The text has been tokenized and linguistically annotated with MorphAdorner. The annotation includes standard spellings that support the display of a text in a standardized format that preserves archaic forms ('loveth', 'seekest'). Textual changes aim at restoring the text the author or stationer meant to publish. This text has not been fully proofread Approx. 31 KB of XML-encoded text transcribed from 15 1-bit group-IV TIFF page images. EarlyPrint Project Evanston,IL, Notre Dame, IN, St. Louis, MO 2017 A66001 Wing W2130 ESTC R33656 13545514 ocm 13545514 100120 This keyboarded and encoded edition of the work described above is co-owned by the institutions providing financial support to the Early English Books Online Text Creation Partnership. This Phase I text is available for reuse, according to the terms of Creative Commons 0 1.0 Universal . The text can be copied, modified, distributed and performed, even for commercial purposes, all without asking permission. Early English books online. (EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. A66001) Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 100120) Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books, 1641-1700 ; 1559:38) The incomparable poem Gondibert vindicated from the wit-combats of four esquires, Clinias, Dametas, Sancho, and Jack Pudding Wild, Robert, 1609-1679. 27 p. [s.n.], [London] printed : 1655. Attributed to Wild by Wing and NUC pre-1956 imprints. Reproduction of original in the Harvard University Library. eng A66001 R33656 (Wing W2130). civilwar no The incomparable poem Gondibert, vindicated from the vvit-combats of four esquires, Clinias, Dametas, Sancho, and Jack Pudding. Wild, Robert 1653 5016 9 5 0 0 0 0 28 C The rate of 28 defects per 10,000 words puts this text in the C category of texts with between 10 and 35 defects per 10,000 words. 2003-08 TCP Assigned for keying and markup 2003-09 Apex CoVantage Keyed and coded from ProQuest page images 2003-10 Judith Siefring Sampled and proofread 2003-10 Judith Siefring Text and markup reviewed and edited 2003-12 pfs Batch review (QC) and XML conversion THE Incomparable POEM GONDIBERT , VINDICATED From the VVit-Combats OF Four ESQUIRES , Clinias , Dametas , Sancho , and Iack Pudding . {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman} . Vatum quoque gratia rara est . Anglicè , One Wit-Brother , Envies another . Printed in the Year , 1655. To Sir William Davenant . PArdon ( fam'd Sir ) if in th' Adventures Against these Cyclops , & Wit-Centaures , ( Or Hydra's rather , for they can Spring at a Club each man his man , Seconds in Draull , and Seconds unto none . ) Thy yet unhurt Reputation ▪ By me than them should suffer farther , There , by Wit-slaugher , here , Wit-murder . Of small aquaintance as e're writ , I am onely known unto thy wit ; That 's small enough , will Denham say , And Iack Donne swear , upon the day , When at the arraignment of the Wits , There spleen 'gainst D'avenant pasquils spits . There sits Iack Straw as eldest Bencher , And spends no money but his censure ; He layes the Book , sets Sack and Clarret , And with his Quibbles doth pay for it . Not thy Book onely , but each Poem , This Wit-Committee doth cite to 'em ; Thy Hot-cockler for something written , By these Bumme-bayliffs hath been bitten . But you , my friend , ( not Gondiberts ) Forbear your Sarcasmes and your flirts ; For if you play the Cynick still , And bite so hard my Knighted Will , My Woodstreet Doctor , ( not a Wooden ) A sure dissecter , and a good one , With hand accustom'd to knife keen , Shall quaintly firk away your Spleen . So that you shall not bite , nor raile , But like kinde Puppies shake your taile . This may be Donne , for I have seen A Barker's , that 's a Cynicks Spleen I' th' Doctors box . ( Snarlers ) 't is true , The Curre 's as crank as any of you , And frisks and fitchets up and down , As you , to all the Clubbs o' th' Town . All alike living by mishaps , ( What falls from table ) poor Wit-scraps . Will shew thy face ( be 't what it will ) We 'l push 'um yet a quill for quill , And let the world at latter loose , Judge which was taken for a Goose . Upon the misplaced Answer upon the Preface of Gondibert . Lasciva est nobis Pagina , vita proba . I Know the reason , and 't is pat , Why none of you do english that . Nor will I , friends , for all our wrongs Should be objected in hard tongues . Ergo , Lasciva est vobis Pagina , vita probra . — You have found it ; pro in probra ( if there be any such Adjective ) is long , it was a purpose made so , it is according to your life , so it is all your life long . Now after that note in Prose , to the Verses . Just at the threshold pray you look , Preface , you say , is nose to Book : Very familar sure are those We suffer to play with our nose , But chief at sharp with pin , or prickle : Yet these are Strawes , but Strawes will tickle . On the Preface . Room for the best of Poets — jolt , ( This is the first Wit-thunder-bolt . ) The Sheriff's Verses must amate us , They are the Posse comitatus . And those that follow in this List-all , Are all his men , with nere a Pistoll . Unlesse for Cases wide as Poulton's , Perchance each man may have Paul Coulton's . What , doth he baffle Hobs the Nathan ? Hook in , old boy , thy Levi-athan . The Wits they grant , though one turnes Coat , And writes now Contra , that Pro wrote , We do not take that much in snuff , He 's still o th' weakest , Penne , or Buffe . But what if VVill a censure made-a O' th' Poets ? he but did as Strada . So did old Ben , our grand Wits master , In this Play called Poetaster . The odds is ours , we are the higher , We are Knight Lauriat , Ben the Squire . Upon my conscience you wrong Out Knight , that he should hate the Tongue Of either Author , for 't is sed Those Languages ne're hurt his head . You know full well the Latian Is routed in our Nation : And why such stir for heathen Greek ? Is 't not enough brisk French to speak ? Italian brave , my Signiora , If sounds as high as you can rore a. He never miss'd at nose of Ovid , But lov'd the nose so well approved Of the Court-Ladies . Handy, dandy , They both were spoyl'd by Art D'Amandi : You think they feign , that is , they lie , That spake of Gondibert so high . If that their Verses were much taller , Waller hath since out-Gondid VValler . Why do you bite , you men of Fangs ? ( That is , of Teeth that forward hangs ) And charge my dear Ephestion With want of Meat ? you want Digestion . We Poets use not so to do , To find men Meat , and Stomachs too . That is a good capacity , If you want that the more 's the pity . You have the Book ▪ you have the House , And mumme ( good Iack ) and catch the Mouse . The Knight 's return'd , your censures vanish , And takes no Dungus , but good Spanish . The Author doth not put in Mun — because it is the abreviation , or nick of his own name . Now with Virginia twit's no more . The Slaves are dead , we do deplore : And leave I pray , your fierce Bravados , Slife you will end else in Barbados . To Sir William D'avenant . AFter so many poorer scraps Of Playes , which nere had the mishaps , To passe the Stage without their claps . 2. When thou hadst past the Pikes , and wert Thy self a royall Gondibert , A Soldate , then a Statesman pert . 3. There so improv'd , and grown so able , Thou'rt fit for War , or Council-table , Could'st thou be brought to penne a Fable ? 4. Could ( Knight ) thy emerited fancy , After so high dispatch beyond-sea , Stoop to contrive this rare Romancy ? 5. Which all Romances must adore , Arcadia bow , and Eglamore , And all since written , and before . 6. Thy first penn'd Albovin must lie , Forgotten in his Lumbardy , For Gondibert is onely high . 7. This Gondibert , and so the Author , Is lik'd by King , and by King's daughter , It makes them serious , and makes laughter . 8. He that hath swing'd the Prince of Condi , And beat him to a hole , like Lundie , ( Better imployment send him one day . ) 9. When that he 's weary of the Launce , And hunting Rebels out of France , In Gondibert his thoughts advance . 10. And sighs , perchance , with watry sluces , To see the Red-rose serve the Luces , But ( Will ) the world is all abuses . 11. Thou'rt read translated in French Court , The Divel himself doth well report , All but these Quiblers thank thee for 't . 12. When Princes Battel joyn , and hurt , Are farre remov'd from friends at Court , Their Chirurgion then is Gondibert . 13. A leaf of thee but read , will stench The blood as well as any French Chi'rgion , or Chirurgion's wench . 14. Here Ladies may a simpling go , Iohnson , Gerrard do not shew A greater Betany to view . 15. Translate no longer for our Leahs , ( Good Peppers ) our Pharmacopaeas , Of Herbals here 's the prime Ideas . 16. Thou art the publique Icon mornm , The Ladies lay the Book before um , And Polexander's not o' th' Quorum . 17. Before they treat a Lord , a part Of thee is read , or got by heart , They 'r catechis'd in Gondibert . 18. And if they lose the Virgin-name , They onely say in joyfull shame , Sweet Gondibert thou wert to blame . 19. Their paines and throwes in this do please , When that in Parsley-bed it sees . Bully-Gondibertiades . 20. Then let these Rimers now approve , And say thou art their lash above . Princes fight by thee , and Queens love . Upon the continuation of Gondibert . OVid to Patmos pris'ner sent , His Book to Rome without him went : And though that D'avenant was confin'd , The world to Gondibert was kind ; And by his worth so pleaded we , See Gondibert set D'avenant free . The power that laid the man by th'heeles , Took bayle of 's feet for all the ills . His Habeas Corpus now is granted ; ( Prethee no more of a nose scanted . ) And why good Knight are we severe , Because we would the Stages cleare Of Gods invoak'd ; and Pegasus ? Abuse us still good Poet thus . How gallant Massey grown of late , As if the man were Massey-plate ? But how could ever Gyges ring , Have hoysted Davenant on the wing , When that the ring did not convey , But keep invisible , we say , The person on the place , 't is worse , The rings mistook for Pacolets horse . He lay not there , no not an houre , No sooner was thy work at Tower , But Davenant was releas'd , we know it , The man was pardon'd for the Poet . But how comes Daphne in ? It followes , Daphnes are alwayes neere Apollos . The Muses , we know are such The Tower can't hold , but that do's much . Nay the Muse holds our Muses now , Scarce your prime Wit can scape ; yet how , I le tell you , may be safe from danger , Write as you doe sans wit in anger . Friend , If you have indeed abus'd , Homer and Virgil as accus'd , Let these withdraw the action , And make them satisfaction , ( For Gondibert , I nere did see ; The Book , my friends , too dear for me . ) How come you now to offend the Bard Of lofty fame , and name full hard ? Bold Britaines , they , and won't indure , But my Lord Bard is for thee sure . Let all the mountaines meet upon 't , They 'l yeild to Bard and Bellamont . I thought that Nose must be i' th' Verse , Though i' th' fag end , i' th' very A — . Wash thee in Avon , if thou flie , My wary Davenant so high , Yet Hypernaso now you shall O're-fly this Goose so Capitall . Your colours will not hold the rather , Expung'd by one that drinks of neither : And yet no kin to John Taylor : The Author upon himself . FAlse as foolish ! What turn felo de me ? Davenant kill Davenant ? No , the whole world doth see My Gondibert , To be a piece of Art . Waller and Cowley true have prais'd my book , And deservedly , Nay I did for it look ; He both us robbs , That blames for this old Hobs. Write on ( jeer'd Will ) and write in Pantofle , That 's over Pumpho , And for Will Crofts his baffle , Thou maist long write , That wri●'st to them that shite . Knight hold thy nose at this . One Tetrastich to wipe his versifyer ▪ Met at the Common shoar , thee & Will Crofts , I send you Ieffery to cleanse what 's soft : Be it in head , can't he poor dwarf assaile , But he will reach , to whip you in the taile . Room , room for a leather flinger , Pretends to be a triple singer , On three feet , or to a third finger . Who can Sufficiently prepare 'um 'Gainst men of trium literarum ? who 'l fall like those that rose at Sarū ▪ 1. In triple rimes I thank a Kater , Who writes as if he were my Mater , But proves a most Fraterrimus Frater . 2. You erre my Cautious friend in Planets , As in abusing of my Sonnets . The Swanns above , Geese vaile your Bonnets . 3. 'T is right ( you say ) 't was hard in France , Ten pound for a good work t' advance , You got it friend , ( but for a dance . ) 4. What like thy selfe , still souc'd in Ale , Abhorring all that 's sharp and stale ? You 'l find me salt both head and taile . Indors'd Tih-he , and seal'd with the caelature of the four-tassel'd Cap. Upon fighting Will . MUst all be Fighters that do follow Camps , It was not so , my friends , not at Ea'Tamps . He that bought Armes , and boldly cross'd the Maine Did honour , sure , in that adventure gain . Who deserves most , the man that is well bang'd For King ? or he that ventures to be hang'd ? Now Impudence , thou 'rt up with old disgrace , Better to want some nose , than want a face . Caro de carne mine is still as 't was , When thine of flesh is batter'd into brasse . Where Kings have favour'd do not thou blaspheme , I onely do amand that Sacred Theme . Will , like a Basilisk , did ride and flie , And like a Regulus , bold Will will die . In Pugnacem Daphnem . Num Latin — as hîc ? PEr mare , per terras , Regi obsequiosus aravi , Neptunus ceduces , Arma verumque vehit . Belgia me sensit , retuli unde ipse Leones . Sensit Bombardus Anglica terra meus . Hinc ordo ( nam gaudet equo Neptunus ) equestris , Et poterat Parmum nobilitare Leo . Scilicet — — & verus Campi Basiliscus ad ibam , Bombardet genus ah tum Basiliscus erat . Test is abest Fateor , jam Functo feste Meipso , Calcar adest tamen , & Fama superstes erit . Ad eundem , Law Case . Leye ulpianum inter Io : Oakum vel Quercenū & Io : Novi stili . ff. ff. ff. ff. tit. De abluendo Cerebro parag. Tuenim , vel Codrus . Crambe bis repetitae nolo reponere Scribe nova . In Daphnen Causidicum . ALl are not Martyr-Soldiers , blood & goar , To will to fight is Soldier-confessor , And does defie his sawcy hand and pen , That saies he ere turn'd back to any men . The Nose again ! ô how they plunge that scoff ! If th'ad been whole ; they would have rubb'd it off . A little man , a man you may suppose , As much in justice to a ( little ) Nose . For , with the honour'd remnant that he beares We take in snuff , these often crambed jeeres , I le give you ( Pokins ) leave to be nasute , It is enough for us to be acute . And 'cause I will in equity dispose , You shall Ana — eares unto your nose . The Poet is angry , because censur'd by one he knowes not . Some men have known some man , some men before : Ha well done Iack , 't was like be seen no more . 'T is special to be known , not know agen . But prethee tell , who was Iack Pudding then ? Titulus Compitis Londini cum Licentia imponendus . Quid dignum tanto feret hic promissor hiatu ? QUantum ad Epistolae sonum videtur esse exhibitoris Tumulorum apud Westmonasteriū , adeo illi digitus Mercurialis , & vox Stentoria , quid ni rude Donati●s ! Tune Monstrorum remonstrator . Monumentis ipsis statua major es , & praeter teipsum ( id est ) magistrum spectaculorum grandius monstrum nulla aetas iterum videbit : Quid Castrum Backsterianum nominas ? abi ad ripam , & cum simiâ ( Die quolibet Iovis ) te ostenta . Tune Elephantos , Tigridasque loqueris ? Cedunt miracula , Asinus locutus est . Suscitasti ( stipes ) Cetum pro naribus sales , ignem sulphur evomentem : Abite Pelamides . ( Ne forte non intelligeretur vocabulum ) Anglice , ( Plaise-mouth'd fellowes . ) Adest Leviathan sed Hobbianus , non Hobgoblianus . Americae datum 13. mense Anni Platonici . 1666. Anno Bestiae . Bis Tibi vale . Upon the Author . Daphne secure of the buff , Prethee laugh , Yet at these four , and their riff raff : Who can hold , When so bold ? And the trim wit of Coopers green hill , Should piss now in every commō squirters quill , And his old prais'd Fancies kill , Denham thou'lt be shrewdly shent , To invent Such Drawlery for merriment ; And tak'st a heart To bear a part , With three of most unequal pitiful fire , Not fit to be enter'd in the grave Wit-quire , A drawing Donne out of the mire . Canto the second , or rather Cento the first . ALl in the Land of Bembo , and of Bubb , Frank Harris help me , on this pocky rub . How shall we doe now Jack a doggs is dead To get Tom Coriat decent buried . T is fit the man that Travell'd had so much , And rode a stride the vessell in High Dutch . Should have a place to lay his head , if he Were but dead drunk , as he was us'd to be . Is there no Art ho ? nor Commencement nigh ? Mutton I smell , Vacation Pullets ply , Toward Trumpington , and Shottover , a hill , Neer Bellosyte , hath at each end a Mill . But what news from America ? Dost hold , We shall have both our pockets full of Gold , To buy us Turke-pies , alas 't is hot ; Good Iack supply the Club , and give's a Pot. Does not that Gentleman upon the Bench Love Smoak nor Sack ? then let him have a Wench . All palates pleas'd , a Scot will eat no Swine , Men will eat men , Reckabites drinke no Wine . Hey day ! & where are we ? what all-a-mort ? I thought we had been jeering Gondibert . What is all this ? protest 't is wondrous good , But better it were farre , if understood . Now 't is as plain as nose not in my face , When that I rose from stool , I lost my place . Then face about , or in more homely geere , Noses revert , be where your Arses were . ' Uds Fish and Egs ! that is no swearing yet , What shall we do ? we 'r in a deadly sweat . We have got In Ano Feavor . Good Kings Daughter Set on a Posnet , make some Parley-water : Or , if you please , Panada make in skellit ; Let not men of nose come near , they 'l smell it . And let it boyle three pints unto a half , Then let it coole , and give 't a Durham Calf ; Or these Calabrian Swine , or Padan Goats , But be ye sure ( sweet Princess ) of your Coats : O tie 'um up behind , or skewit tuck 'um , For fear these Lads from off your Buttocks pluck 'um O arm your self , for they 're adventrous fellows , And commonly stav'd off with Tongs or Bellows . Or break their heads with some good Cherry-stone , 'T will beat them off the pit , 't is ten to one . Though they be cruel Cockers , strike , they 're marr'd , And will run out , and not a man die hard . But if they should hold , Astrayon has Clyster , But pray what he with Owl upon his fist here ? O 't is a present to be shar'd 'twixt four ! The Jesses and the Hood to two , no more : The Eyes and Beak to two — 't is fit . This have we For our old Fustian , your new-made Poll-Davie . Thus farre out of our wits , now let 's be in our senses . 1. The Sun was sunk into the watry lap Of her commands the waves , and weary there , Of his long journey , took a pleasing nap To ease his each daies travels all the year . 2. Zanthus is safely said forrage to yeild , For his bright Coursers with their flaming hoofs , ( No , no , Elisium is too bare a field ) They quarter where they run , in the same roofs . 3. Yet do they seem to rest , that is , are fled , From th'inclosure of our Hemisphere ; And to be down , we say , is gone to bed , But they do lie , in truth , we know not where . 4. When Gondibert and Birtha joyn'd that night , And reap'd the pleasure of expectant Brides . They did not sleep , nor would they , if they might , But kept the Ephialtes from her strides . 5. Forbear to speak the rest , the modest Bed , Did shake to think what then was got & lost ; The Curtaines blush'd , that is , were very red , While she was thaw'd , that still that night was frost . 6. Old Astragon , as Fathers gladly use , A Caudle brought next morning early , And joy'd his daughter , but she could not choose But snob , and made it richer , that is , Pearly . 7. Not that she wept 'cause she had chang'd her name , But teares , you know with them , are too too common . It was to think what time sh'had lost , & blames Her self ; she had no sooner put on Woman . I am beholding , but not to this D. Donne for that . Stout Gnodibert grown stiffer by those teares , For she imbrac'd the Man , that invers'd Tree , So that for certain he nere hung his eares , But thrash'd , and took for a Walnut , Birtha she . Where is the Fustian and the Bombast ? In your own Doublets , sure compleat . To Daphne on his incomparable ( and by the Critick incomprehended ) Poem , Gondibert . CHear up dear friend , a Laureat thou must be , Nay , in this name entituled to the Tree . Gather ( you Infant-wits ) loose Bayes from hence , And weare it when you write like him , high sense . Homer would wish his eyes again , to see To mend his Verses by thy Poetry . Nor would the Chesher , and smooth Mantuan , Deny the praises of so brave a Man . Rather if living , he would D'avenant sing , And in alternate muse thy merit ring . Ovid would be so far from minde of those , ( That he would gladly lend thee part of 's nose , Sad of thy least Defect ) and spight of us , For thee would write a new De Tristibus . Tasso and Petrach , and his Laura too , Will throw off Modesty , and the Bayes wooe . Apollo call a Counsell , make an Act , And let their Verses with the Cords be packt . And their 4 names be plac●t , but never higher , On the 4 Toms , of which the Club is Squire . Whilst thou whale Gondibert shalt feast , thy dish , Such as these , shabs , shruks , sea calfs , & sword fish . Let the whole shoale of lesser Pamphlets swim , As the Wit-frye . Secur'd alone in him . An Essay in explanation to Mr. Hobbs , &c. Canter . the 2d . 1. ILl Men and Poets , are by number known , Fit to consume ( qd . he ) both Corn & Wine ; Then judge which is the bad , her 's four for one , Foul play in verse my friends . But give um line . 2. O hopefull Inigo , towardly old man , That know'st so much , that Daphne nere knew letter , Oxford him bred , Paris brought up . Who can ? ( And the Globe clapt his Playes ; ) who can do better ? 3. Rime , feet of Reason , was his studied Art , Rimes that are grasp'd by you in Divels claw . Rimes Lycambaean , full of Salt and Tart — Tar that will burn the fingers , shirt and straw . 4. To sublime Reason , Nature's inmate , Art , Did Rimes as Varnish to her house devise , Rubbish lies under the rar'd plaister-part , That is rough reason couch'd , but not to th' wise . 5. Now since the Law must clear both us and you , Your neck ▪ verses perchance y' have had already , For the first faults , you know we hang but few ; Then take the book & read & old Nick speed ye . On Gondibert . CLap on thy Close-stoole apted for A — Upon thy head , & march a rare mock Mars . How strong the Poet smells ? good Sir impart ; Did you not slice at name of Gondibert ? With your own verses clense your tripe : ( A proper taile-clout ) wipe for wipe . Cockle-de-moys for the Poets Hot-cockles . HOt-cockles are but childrens toyes , No more , my friends , are Cockle-de moys . We 'le play at both ; but who shall lie ? Recant and Poem late wrote high , Amount unto a Book . Lie faire you , As you did lately , and I le spare you . Reach me a Ferula , perhaps The clawing hand slights our fist-claps . For wearing Buff , but never fighting , Fouling Paper in the writing For whatsoere y' have donne be — . Smell to my hand Sir , what , so coy ? Close , 't is best a Cocle-de-moy . Come Donne , come neerer with your nose ; How nice ? 't is but to pluck a Rose . Better do thus , then go to th' Crowes . Has Denham smelt ? He 's very ill ; Let him be breath'd on Cooper's hill . Draw neer ( you fourth Rhinoceros ) This for your Verses and your Prose . While it was made , I chanc'd to whistle , That take too , for your learned Epistle . If Mr Sheriff your Wits did stir up : That is two scruples more of Syrup . In Physick I le requite your pains , And thank you all my K ▪ in grains . If Astragon hath not enough , Tantablin shall afford you stuff . What 's here , Church Gradus without Organs ? Blomesbury , S. Katharine's , Covent , cum Finsbury Garden , Canon , no Christ-Church , Venery Bangher , Aclap . Epithites that will serve foure Appellative , and four proper Nouns , or more . Drolling , Insipid , Sarcustick , Damned , Heroick , Lumbery , Bombasted , Fustian , Hauty , Pecking . Upon the Authors writing his name , as in the Title of the Booke , D'Avenant . 1. YOur Wits have further , than you rode , You needed not to have gone abroad . D'avenant from Avon , comes , Rivers are still the Muses Rooms . Dort , knows our name , no more Durt on 't ; An 't be but for that D'avenant . 2. And when such people are restor'd , ( A thing belov'd by none that whor'd ) My noches then may not appeare , The gift of healing will be neer . Meane while I le seeke some Panax ( salve of Clowns ) Shall heal the wanton Issues , and crackt Crowns . I will conclude , Farewell Wit Squirty Fegos And drolling gasmen Wal-Den-De-Donne-Dego . FINIS .