A49304	----	The Loves of Hero and Leander a mock poem : with marginall notes, and other choice pieces of drollery ... This text is an enriched version of the TCP digital transcription A49304 of text R19169 in the English Short Title Catalog (Wing L3278). 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. 62 KB of XML-encoded text transcribed from 31 1-bit group-IV TIFF page images. EarlyPrint Project Evanston,IL, Notre Dame, IN, St. Louis, MO 2017 A49304 Wing L3278 ESTC R19169 12350768 ocm 12350768 59984 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. A49304) Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 59984) Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books, 1641-1700 ; 893:6) The Loves of Hero and Leander a mock poem : with marginall notes, and other choice pieces of drollery ... Smith, James, 1605-1667. [2], 59 p. [s.n.], Printed at London : 1653. Reproduction of original in Huntington Library. Has been attributed to James Smith. eng Humorous poetry, English -- Early modern, 1500-1700. A49304 R19169 (Wing L3278). civilwar no The loves of Hero and Leander: a mock poem: with marginall notes, and other choice pieces of drollery. Got by heart, and often repeated by d [no entry] 1653 10475 47 0 0 0 0 0 45 D The rate of 45 defects per 10,000 words puts this text in the D category of texts with between 35 and 100 defects per 10,000 words. 2004-06 TCP Assigned for keying and markup 2004-07 SPi Global Keyed and coded from ProQuest page images 2004-11 Judith Siefring Sampled and proofread 2004-11 Judith Siefring Text and markup reviewed and edited 2005-01 pfs Batch review (QC) and XML conversion The Loves of HERO AND LEANDER : A mock Poem : WITH Marginall Notes , and other choice Pieces OF DROLLERY . Got by heart , and often repeated by divers witty Gentlemen , and Ladies , that use to walke in the New Exchange , and at their recreations in Hide-Park . Ut Nectar Ingenium . Printed at London , 1653. The famous Greek and Asian story , Of honour'd Male and Female glory . Know all , I value this rich Gem , With any piece of C. J. M. Nay more then so , I 'le goe no lesse , Then any script of friends , J. S. Of young Leander , and of Hero , I now begin ; Dum spiro , spero . LEANDER being fresh and gay , As is the leek or green popey ; Upon a morn both clear and bright , When Phaebus rose , and had bedight Himselfe with all his Golden rayes ; And pretty birds did perch on sprayes : When Marigolds did spread their leaves , And men begin to button sleeves : ) Then young Leander all forlorn , As from the Oke drops the acorn ; So from his weary bed he slipt , Or like a School-boy newly whipt ; But with a look as blithe to see , As cherry ripe on top of tree : So , forth he goes and makes no stand , With Crabtree Cudgle in his hand . He had not gone a mile or two , But gravel got into his shooe , He set him down upon a bank , To dry his foot , and rest his shank , And so with finger put in shooe , He pul'd out dirt and gravel too . This was about the wast of day : The middle , as the vulgar say . Fair Hero , walking with her Maid , To doe the thing cannot be staid , Spi'd young Leander lying so , With pretty finger picking toe . She thought it strange to see a man In privy walk , and then anan , She stept behind a Pop'ring tree , And listned for some Novelty : Leander having clear'd his throat , Began to sing this pleasant note . Oh , would I had my Love in bed , Though she were nere so fell ; I 'de fright her with my Adders head , Untill I made her swell . Oh Hero , Hero , pity me , With a Dildo , Dildo , Dildo dee . Fair Hero 'gan to smile at this , Leander rais'd 'gainst tree to piss , * He plucks me streight his Drabler out , And with his arms claspt tree about : O thus , quoth he , O thus , — I coo'd , Bobbing Rogero 'gainst the wood . His Blind-worm Hero fair did see , † His Curral head did lean 'gainst tree : Which sight did make her sigh and sob , To see how he 'gainst tree did bob : She never lov'd him till that hour , And him she will invite to Towre . She sat her down to ease her joynts ▪ The springal he unties his points . Faire Hero noted him a while , And prettily began to smile , To see a comely youth and tall , Could not hold that which needs must fall . Now Heroe faire had spi'd a vapour , And sends her maid with piece of paper ; But he before the Maid did come , * Had sav'd that labour with his thumb : The Maid with blush turn'd back againe , Seeing her labour was in vaine . Leander having done his taske , And made an end ore hedge nine Laske , He turn'd about , and made no bones , † But with stick rak't for Cherry stones . So as he stooped , he spi'd coming , A gentle Nymph , whose pace was running . He could not tell what to suppose , * But put up Shirt into his Hose . Leander streight did follow Maid , Untill he came where Heroe laid . Her cheek on hand , her arme on stump , Her leg on grasse , on mole-hill rump ; He with a gentle modest gate , Plucking his Cap from off his Pate , He thus bespake her , Lovely Peat , Behold , with running how I sweat ! Oh , would I were that harmelesse stump , Whereon thou lean'st , with that a thump Brake from the intrails of his hose , Heroe was fearfull , dreading foes , Seeing a Canon 'gainst her bent , That seem'd to level at his tent : Leander having felt the scape , And spi'd the Maid to laugh and gape : He then began to smell a Rat , And stole his hand down under 's Hat . Heroe did note his Roger good , And how couragiously it stood : At length she asked him his name , And wherefore that he thither came . Quoth he , my dwelling is Abidos , † This is my walke wednesdayes and Fridayes . I love to see the Squirrels play , With bow and bolt I them doe fray . My name is young Leander call'd , My Father 's rich , and yet hee 's bald : Enough quoth Hero , say no more , Mum-budg , quoth he , 't was known of yore . Now Heroes love began to curdle , She wisht his head under her girdle . If so she had , I make no doubt , But it would dash its own brains out ; And yet the Stale be nere the worse . I may compare the head to purse Whose mouth is fastened to a string , And if the knot she chance to wring , The money white will issue out : † He shoots most wide that hits the clout . Now Heroes love could not be hid . Come hither , love , 't is I that bid . Feare not , my love , to taste my lip , Imagine me to be thy Ship : Guide thou the Rudder with thy hand , And in my Poop fear not to stand : Stand to thy tackle on the hatches , My Gunner-room is free from matches : Pull up my Sail to thy Main yard , My compass use thou , and my Card : Lay thou my anchor where thou please , In broad , or in the narrow Seas ; And though the foaming Ocean fret , Thy anchor 's safe , though it be wet . Quoth she , close by fair Sestos stream , ( With that within her throat rose fleame ) Neer to that place there stands a Cloyster , ( Poor soul she coughs and voids an Oyster ) Leander stole his foot upon it , And treads it out with vailed Bonnet , She thanks Leander for his pains , And for another softly strains : Her choler laid , she said , mark well , And understand what I thee tell : Come then , my love , in twi●e of night , The time when Owl and Bats take flight : In lower window I will place , A Taper bright as eyes in face ; Which light shall be thy load-star bright , Through waves to guide thee in the night : And with that word , like Ivy wound About his neck , arms clasped round : Venus did nere more dote on Don , Whose heat in love was cold as stone , Then Hero did on springal young ; So down they fell together clung , Upon a Primerose hill most sweet , Their lips being joyn'd , their tongues did greet , So high did grow the fragrant flowres , Made fresh by youthfull April showers , But when she saw them lye so close , She put the flowers under her nose : And so approaching to the place , * Where they lay panting face to face ; So high did grow the herbs so sweet , That cover'd them from head to feet ; Her Maid then got into a tree , Where plain she might these Lovers see . Leander found the watery brook , Where never fish was caught with hook , Yet bobbing there had been good store , † With great red wormes , some three or foure . Oh , who hath seen a strucken Deer , Or from his eyes in water clear , A dabled Duck with dirt bemir'd , So Hero lay with pleasure tir'd , * On Medlar branch the Maid doth sit , One Medlar with a meany met ; Though she was there , there was to see , Nothing but Medlars on the tree . Wee 'l leave the Maid upon a crotch , Holding by hands , sitting on notch : But the sweet sight did so intice , That bough was met with her device . And now Leander gets him up , * And clos'd the acorn and the cup . His Cucko pintle he did thrust Into his Oxlip which was just , His Batchelors button , strait as line , Made way into her Columbine . His hooded-hawk he then did bring her , Which she receiv'd with Ladies finger : His sprig of Time , her branch of Rue , His Primerose , and her Violet blue . Leander lusty springal youth Did now retire , 't was so in truth : Who , like some youthful prodigal , Must needs retire , having spent all . He now returned to his friends , Who him receiv'd with fingers ends . The Maid was greedy , though but silly , She thought too much went by her belly ; Oh , she was wrapt with that sweet sight , That she did long to enter fight . By chance a Weaver passing by , Looking aside , she did him spy . Then as Adonis horse did fare , When he beheld the Freez-land Mare , Breaking his rains ty'd to a Tree , And even as like as like may be , Setting the runt of horse aside ; † Her rubbish did excel in pride . She looking earnest at the Weaver , The Medlar-branch sooth did deceive her . Quoth she , alass ! ah me , ah me ! What , was I born to fall from tree ? Her cloaths her head did canopy , She was all bare from head to knee . The man accurst , whose trade was scurvy , Had thought the world had bin turn'd topsi-turvy . Now he did tread as if on Eggs , He saw a Medlar 'twixt her leggs : I know not how they there did settle , But in the Weaver got his Shettle : Where we will leave Tom-trumpery , To talk of other company . Leander having fetcht his fees ▪ And Hero having covered knees . Quoth she , I know thou art no dodger , Sweet , have a care of trusty Roger , My Dear , quoth she , my Lover true , Remember what you from me drew : Remember you being full of quiblits , Remov'd your Hares head from my giblits . With that afar off she gan spy , * A fellow running with one eye . He wore , because his head was bald , An old hats crown which hid the scald . His nose was crooked , long , and thin , As sharp and long appear'd h●s chin , His eye brows hung upon his cheeks , His head did grow like bed of Leeks , His back did over-look his head , One of his arms as door-naile dead : His fingers wore for Liveries , Nailes long as Cupids Quiver is : Upon his back he wore coat blue . His face would make a dog to spue : His legs did goe four wayes at once , He was all skin save some few bones . Then Hero said , The weary hour Is come for me to go to Towre ▪ Then farewell Love , Leander said , And strait she whistled for her Maid : By this John Hedg hogg drew him nigh , For that his name was not to lye . His one eye in her face did peer , Quoth he , who 'd thought t' have found you here ? Come ; to your father you must goe , Leander trod upon his toe , And said , with biting of his thumb , That you saw me , no words but mum : So puts his hand to pocket twice , And gave him two Cans , or the price : Leander could no longer keep her , Away she goes with this hedg-creeper . He now devis'd what course to take , Fearing that Dough would be his Cake , If it were known : So home he goes , * Passing the time in eating Slows . His minde doth run on Heroes Lap , At Fathers door he now doth rap : Which Porter hearing turns the lock , With brazill staffe , aad comely Frock : Where we will leave him for a while , And unto Hero turn our stile . Fair Hero having past the Spont , She now was come unto the Cont — Tinent of Seftos , where she dwelt : Her heart in passion'gan to melt . Unto the Tower close she took , And with her finger did unhook The Casement , looking forth on stream . The Star-light'gan on Flood to gleam : For now brave Titan banisht was , Now long leg'd Spiders creep on grasse ; When nightingales do sit and sing , With prick'gainst brest , and Fairies ring : Two houres fill'd hath been the gut ; Men now begin to go to Rut : When man in Rug doth cry in night ; Look well to locks and fire-light : The time when Thomas with his team , Doth lug out dung , and men 'gin dream : When City Gates are shut , not open ; † And Dutch men cry , What all A-slopen . About this time fair Hero stood , Watching Leander in the Flood . ●he calls for Smock , and puts off foul , Washing her parts with Sope in Bowl . Her foot she washt O pretty foot , ( But yet I am not come unto it ) Of knee she washt the comely pan , And now I come unto 't anan : Her thighes she washt with veins so blue , * Her Pode likewise of sable hue : Below the bottom of her belly , Did grow a Toy ; of shape most selly : Though enough to make a child afear'd , Two Corral lips with a black beard . And us that beast that 's kept for breed , Le ts fly her water when sh' has need , Which done , her Funnel she turns out and in , Which was so like , as 't the same had bin : Here will we leave her nak'd as nail ? And to Leander turn out tale . Forth from his Fathers house he went , Much like a Bird-bolt being sent , From Brazil bow and trusty string , With feathers of the Gray-Goose wing . He tooke him to a trusty rock , And stript him to the ebon nock . And being naked look't like Mars , With purple scab upon his A — The seam betwixt his Cod that went , Seem'd like to Cupids bow unbent , The Cod his quiver , where his arrows Did hang , much like a nest of Sparrows . But some may think this is a fable , He was fring'd with hair from Nock to nav'le . * Fego , saith he , so forth he goes . The gravel got between his toes , Now fear'd he Neptune as a God , Still running with his hand on Cod. O who hath seen a wanton Roe , Jump o're the Fearn , indeed even so The lively Skip-Jack mounts and falls , And still on Hero , Hero , calls . Even with that word , with speedy motion , He leaps into the foaming Ocean : Th' enamoured Fishes'bout him flock , Some play in arm-holes , some in nock : Endimions love then shone outright ; He spi'd in Heroes Tower a light : And in the window looking out , A lovely face , that seem'd to pout . By this fair Hero might discern , Leanders head , but not his Stern , That frisked underneath the waves : And this is all that Hero craves , To see himself within her bed , Whom billowes beat now on the head . Leander now turns on his back , He yerks out legs and lets arme slack : * But then above the water floated , The true Loves-lump , which Hero noted . Fair Hero had a goodly sight , That could discern so far by night . He was much troubled with a Shad , † That did pursue this lovely Lad. The envious fish did so torment him , As had 't been I , I should have shent him ; And said , thou art a scabby fish , To nimble at fair Heroes dish . Hero did note how he was troubled : The water 'bout Leander bubbled : She looks still forth , kneeling on Mats ; Joventus meets a Shole of Sprats . They him besiege on every side , Betwixt his arms and legs they glide . Neptune , the dreadfull God of Seas , On whom did never stick March-Fleas . Taking in hand his good Eele Spade , Towards Leander streight he made : The Shad and Shole of Sprats did flye , At sight of Neptunes angry eye . The God then turn'd him up-side downe , And view'd his parts from heel to crown , He dally'd with his elfine locks , And bears him up from shelf and rocks His cheeks , his lips , his chin he kist , No part of Yonker Neptune mist . Now Hero of his love made doubt , And wisht him there in yellow clout . His thigh so white he still would fell , Then he would kick with horn and heel . Quoth Neptune then to buxsome Boy , Nay , of my courting seem not coy . Dost hear , live here my lovely Lad , I 'le give thee Cod , eat Dace and Shad ; I am as great a God as Mammon , Thou shalt have Ling , Poor John and Sammon . And if thou sayest thou wilt not blab , * Thou shalt have Lobster Prawn and Crab , ● tell thee I am not Curmudgeon , Thou shalt have Rotchet , Whiting , Gudgeon . The fish that is by Weavers eaten . That must be first with beetle beaten , Of Knights heard never are more Dubbins , Thou shalt have green fish and their Gubbins : I 'le bring thee where thou shalt see Lig ; The lusty Oyster , Shrimp , and Grig : Quoth he thou swimmest without force , And calls a Dolphin , mount his horse . And when thy mind is somewhat laid , Thou shalt arrive'gainst tow'r of Maid . For well I know thou 'rt thither going ; For all thy grinning , mocks , and mowing I am quoth he , if thou bee'st wrath , Keep in thy breath to cool thy broth : And so away from him he flies ; * And water stood in Neptunes eyes . But he again , quarrel to pick , Said , ' bide with me ; quoth he , ne nick . With that the God , with ireful hand , Cast young Leander on the sand : Where we will leave him , to say sooth , † Sucking his tongue with holow tooth : The Watch of Sestos Tow'r came down . With Bill in hand , Murrion on Crown . Rug-gown on back , Lanthorn in hand , By two and two this rusty band , Did take their way unto the Plat , Whereas Leander naked sat . These Sons of night did straight him spy , Who 's there , quoth one ? quoth he , 't is I ; 'T is I , quoth he : is that an answer ? It is , quoth he , wer 't thou my Grandsire : The wisest of them then did scan , And said ' sure Neighbours , 't is meer man . Nay said another , that 's not so ; For this hath nailes you see on Toe : And meer man hath no feet but fins , And this hath legs you see and shins . Quoth one , to Sea I shall him hunt , Speak if I shall ▪ with that the Cunt — — Stable thus spake , what words spake he , I think , sayes one , some two or three ; Go then in peace , and strike him down , Then forth steps one with bill so brown , A sore-ey'd Knave lapt up in rug , For manners like your Western Pug. His name forsooth , was cleiped Wharton , He was ee'n born at good Hogs-Norton : This Dormouse without wit or skill , Ran at Leander with his bill . Leander lying on his face , Not his back , Dunce running his race : His hinder parts bore somewhat high , Now was he come Leander nigh : He lifts up bill to cleave a rock , Bill fled from hands , Nose struck in nock . Leander with a start did rise , And breaks his nose fast by his eyes . * Oh who hath seen an archer good , Poaking for arrow-head with wood ; So far'd this Clot-pole nose to find And grubbed till his eyes were blind : But all in vaine , the more he strove , The further in his nose he drove . For th'nose indeed it stuck so fast , He was forc't to leave it , and agast , Runs unto Harper plain to be There , Watchmen hired with pence three ▪ Who lifting up their gogling eyes , They hear a voice , and thus it cries , My nose , my nose ; my nose and eyes . And still tow'rd them apace he hasted , Without his nose his face all blasted . Away they ran for feare of foes , Kib'd heels to save they ran on toes . For hast we leave them running still , And to Leander turn our quill . Hero was all this while in dumps , Now gins he to bestir his stumps ▪ Wrath for to say he now did smart , He could not pull out nose by art . Well to be short for feare of Watch , He runs to Tow'r and pulls the latch . Divinest Hero was in bed The door being ope , he in doth tread : Yet for no ear should hear him travel ; From feet he wipes the stony gravel : So goes me on neerer and neerer , And with one eye did underpeer her . Night being warm the cloaths were off , Sooth 't was enough to catch a cough : Leander thought it was no matter , Though teeth within his head did chatter ▪ One hand he put upon her toe ; The other on her buggle-boe . Quoth he thus softly , Hero , Hero : Away quoth she , and come no neer-oh . Yet thus she said when she was waked , Fye upon pride when men goe naked : A glimmering taper stood by bed , Which in and out did put his head : And by that light she did him know , Standing like image of Rye-dough . The well hung youth then spake this word , Quoth he , I must lay Knife a board . I 've swum , quoth he , through thick and thin , Brine-waves have beat both neck and chin . Leander in her Haven cast Anchor . He rides secure in Heroes rode , Now he begins to lay on load . I 'm come through watch and their brown bats , Now Hero feels his twittle-cum-twats . Alas poor soul she did not strive ; Leander at her rump let drive . He now forgot , as I suppose , That in his hobler there was nose . I 'm come , said he , from side of shore , Where lowsie beggars sate of yore . And now the beggar makes me sing The love of the Cawphe●uan King : Leanders tale ▪ On this green bank he first did spy , One sunny day the beggar lye , Displaying to fair Phoebus fire , Ths Marigold of Loves desire . To Marigold I it compare , 'Cause 't was the colour of her haire . Which still to Titan was display'd , In window King stands rich array'd , And spies by chance the beggar lye , Back to the ground , face to the skie , Then like the Snake she cast her skin , Whose amel'd body tumbled in Her mothers lap in apron green , And covered that , it was not seen : Her hair in goodly elf-locks hung , All down her shoulders , and among The roots of it , the Dandriff white , Like hoared frosts shining by night . When Phoebe and her silver train , The Yard , Orion , and Charles Wain . Look down upon the Spyres of grass ; So sprinkled was the head of Lass. She wreath'd her body on one side , Her legs a mole-hil did divide . * Cawphetua's mouth did water shed Fancies and toyes were in his head . Under her arme did Cupid lye , And shot Cawphetua in the eye . Who closely stood in window peeping Whilst beggar poor on bank lay sleeping , He took his love ere she did rise , And sung this note with tears in eyes . O King , what art thou but a bubble That swims in stream so swift ; Thy joy soon turns to grief and trouble , Much like a Boat at drift ; That severed is from poop of Ship , That wanders in the Ocean ; The beggar turn'd upon her hip . Then lay still without motion . He takes me his Prospective Glass . My passion shall appear in print , Make ready Press good Hedger , Say thus Cawphetua saw a dint ▪ And fell in love with beggar . Ah me poor King ! I 'm now a captive made To one that hath no living , land , or trade . What shall I say in this ? What shall I doe ; Shall I love her to foot hath nere a shooe ? I am a King , my state in State is mighty , Shall I love her who hath sold Aqua-vitae ? My rich bloud boyls at this so sweet espial , Ev'n like a Boar , so chafes my Collop Royal. He calls for page , and him for water sends ; This way and that ; he the proud Grifsel bends : The reason why his bobber stood so stiff , Uncover'd lay the silly beggars cliff . As he was standing his full view to take , He spy'd her stretch , and stretching gan to wake : Being big with Thomas , she held up one leg , And like the ant , on mole-hil laid her egg . Then did she rise with such a rude behaviour , That Royal nose took winding of that savour ; Which made him say , behold I come to win thee , Now I perceive that thou hast something in thee . Down , down he goes the beggar to behold , And as he went he calls for purse of gold . The end of this Passion . The beggar now is come to gate of King , To beg for bread and meat , or bread and ling . Which when the King beheld within his Portal , Come , grasse and hay , quoth he , we are all mortal . She with a Crutch did cry , God save his grace , The honest King bade all forsake the place . Which when the Lords and all the rest were gone , Quoth he , speak beggar , and speak words but one . Wilt thou forsake thy beggars life , And leave off wearing patches ? Thou shalt no more wear string in knife , He throws , the beggar catches . Dear take this purse ; nay be not coy ; The simple mute doth stand , Quoth she , my Liege , Perdon a moy , So fell on knee and hand . Thou shalt , quoth he , I do not mock , If thou wilt take my offer , Have stocking , shoo , and Holland smock , Eke gold to put in coffer . Thy rooms they shall be hung with arras , Head-stuck with silver pins : Thou shalt no more sell Rosa solis , Nor buy the Coney-skins . But first resolve me truly this , Hath any tag or rag Put Probe into thy Orifice , Or water'd thy black nag ? No , doughty Liege , I le tell you true , Though poor , I have been chast ; No man did ever here imbrue , ( Pointing beneath her wast . ) With that he took her by the hand , Which was by Phoebus parcht , Quoth he arise , arise and stand : To lodge of King they marcht . Which when they came in room call'd private , None but themselves alone , At lowsie beggar he lets drive at , 'T was dark , her name was Joan , Dear Liege , quoth she ; away , quoth he , So layes her down on back ; And with his finger he doth not linger , * But pulls me out his tack . His Tassel gentle he did put Into her homely Mew , His Rounsifal in her Cob-nut , In bladder were Beans blue . He laid her head against a stoop , She knew well his pretence : He taught the beggar her lyripoop , And paid her odd five pence . He used art with both his thumbs , Quoth she , dread Lord , no more ; His curral tickled her tooth-gums , Yet open stood the door : With fingers wet in came a Lord , Who heard a noyse in house ; Sayes beggar now , dread Lord , no word , But peace and catch a Mouse . The noble spy'd him very soon , And fell low on his knee , He saw King in his honey-Moon , And all to be shitten was he , Quoth Baron bold , Cawphetua then , Your Grace may have doun-pallet : Now he regards not Noble man , * But too t he goes ding-mallet . Her Hockly-hole Kings should abhore , Being man was in that place ; He puts in Glasting-uri-core Before the young mans face . Well , Noble man at last 'gan call , Quoth King to Lord , go down ; And bring me here a Camphire ball , I 'le wash from head to crown . And as you go give order streight , Unto the Cook for supper ; ( Thine ear , 't is matter of much weight ) Bring brimstone and sweet butter . Go get thee gone , and bring with speed Those things I have appointed , Of robes bring store , truth is indeed , I 'le have my King annoynted . Quoth Hero , What became of Tore ? Sayes he , Omnia vincit amor . He was o'recome and glad to flye , To place where muffl●d he doth lye . Leander now made end of tale , Without shirt lineing , or shirt male : Indeed his tale was well compact , For every word he made an act . Her legs were ty'd in true-loves knot , On top of back , full well I wot : Poor soul she lay like cheek of Oxe Stu'd in a pot , or reeking Socks . The Lark now sings with cheerfull note , And morn was come as gray as groat : O day , quoth she , to love most cruel ! Hero had mess of water gruel , Which stood by bed before provided , And hand of Hero streight is guided To mouth of Puny to make strong , The knot of loves White-leather-thong : Then up heflings , and with a start , Quoth naked man , I must depart : First 'twixt her pillars , truth to say , Leander wrote , Ne ultra . No sooner he from bed did jump , Out flew the nose with such a thump , That Heroes Father in next room , Did leave his bed and in did cone . Leander hears the Man of age , Who call'd for sword unto his page ; He seeing him come , with much amazement , He runs and creeps out at the casement . His Calla when-pen-cough indeed , Was much in dangered by his speed , For hook of window got it fast , And held him there , till all-agast , Fair Hero rose and went unto him , And with her finger did undo him . He down does fall without a word : At window struck old man with sword . Who se'ing on floor there lay a nose , Quoth he , I 've l●id him I suppose : This was the time when Fryers gray , Did ring to Martins break of day : When Poets good do wake to plot , And drunkard leaves his cloak for shot ; When Carriers put one shooes and hose , And Maids do empty stools call'd close : That was the time when Leander fell , From forth of window , truth to tell . He had forsook his divine Pillows , To fall among the raging billows . Blue-beard call'd Neptune , being mad For the disgrace he lately had ; This is the troth I need not blab ; Turn'd young Leander to a Crab : And made the Proverb , sure 't was so , That love must creep where 't cannot go : And his dwelling was Abidos , He was doom'd ever to creep side-wayes Poor Heroes sorrow now redoubles , * He left her in a peck of troubles : A sensless man came to the Tow'r , One sense he wants having but four . Now smell my meaning if you can , With him came Roger , Thomas , Iohn , And all the rest of Mars his crue , Whose eyes were black , some gray , none blue , This Sheepshead-rabble comes and knocks , As they would break open all the locks . Fair Heroes father in a rigor , Hearing that noyse , runs down like Tygor : Quoth he who 's there ? what are ye drunk ? And still the more they stir'd they stunk . The Watch , sayes one , open the Gate , The Watch , sayes he , haveing a shrewd pate . He op's the door , and standeth still , And spake these words , What is your will ? Our will , quoth he , what call you that ? And spy'd the Nose pin'd in his hat , Which when they all of them spi'd , This , this is he , strike down they cri'd . Then round about they him inviron , And up they l●ft their rusty iron . He brake away , and bade them base , And after they did run apace : And ran direct , as I suppose , For still the man did follow his Nose : He follow'd close with his defect , And still his Nose was his prospect . Oh , had they catcht him them among , And all their bills at him they dung . But note the pity of the Gods Extended toward these Hodmandods , And first for him that lost his Nose , ( The truth to you I will disclose ; ) Because his face did seem to scowle , The Gods transform'd him to an Owl . And for this was i' th dead of night They doom'd him never by day-light To shew his being ▪ so God Pan Made the first Owl of a Watchman : And when he thought to cry , My Nose ; To whit , to boo he shreekt , and up he rose , And , being compelled by th' angry God , He clapt his wings and 〈◊〉 to * Tod ▪ Yet the Gods fury was not done , They were transform'd each mothers son . Sayes one , Ye Gods , is it your will ? And spake no more , his mouth turn'd bill : And cause the Owl he should not mock , The Gods made him the first Wood-cock : He wears ▪ he forme of a Watchman still , And will for aye , witnesse his bill ▪ One Watchman ▪ he did stay behind , And he was turn'd to buzzard blind : The last was thinking how to run , Saying a fair thred they have spun ; Because he said these words in spight , He liv'd and di'd a bird of nigh● : His ill luck sure I must not smother , He did watch that night for another . And for because his shape was ill , He never flies but in the twill — . In memory of this mischance . The Record you may see in France , Upon each door where they must watch , In chalk they set on door or hatch , The very form of a birds foot : In England they come neerer to 't , For the three claws you plainly see , That is for every claw a peny . But now to old man in a trance , We must proceed to his mischance ; And so his grief , and much misprision , We 'll tell what hapned in his Vision . There came to him , as 't were in sight , A lovely Lady , but no Knight . The Lady , seem'd for Lover lost , To be on bed of Nettle tost ; Of Nettle ; worse ! for to the quick , She often had indur'd the prick Without complaining , and poor ape , To her it seem'd but as a † Jape . As Poet-witty well could say , A sport , a merriment , a play . But she poor Lady almost frantick , As you may see in arras antick ▪ With hair dishevel'd romes about , Vowing to find Leander out , And get him in where no base patch , With painted staff , no rugged watch ; No nor her father with head hoary , Should come to interrupt the story : That is , she meant for her delight , Leander in her book should write . And blame her not to rove with randing ; For she had lost her understanding , Which standing stiffly to her , might have put , * Some comfort to have cur'd her cut . But I too far digress , this fearful sight , The aged father from his wits did fright , Or them from him , I know not whether ; But sure I am they went not both together . A mad old man he was , and lo he dy'd . Fair Hero , like the wench that cry'd , Till she was turned to a stone , For her Leander made her moan . But when she heard , poor silly drab , That he was turn'd into a ccab , She then fell down as flat as Flownder , Her Floodgates ope't , and her own water drown'd her THE EPITAPH . They both were drown'd , whilst Love and Fate contended ; And thus they both pure flesh , like pure fish ended . THE MOCK ROMANS . Dwarfe , FLY from this Forrest Squire ▪ fly trusty spark : I feare like Child whom Maid hath left in dark . Squire , O coward base , whose fear will never lin , Till 't shrink thy heart as small as head of pin : Lady , with pretty finger in her eye , Laments her Lamkin Knight , and shall I fly ? Is this a time for blade to shift for 's self , When Giant vile call● Knight a sneaking Elf ? This day ( a day as fair as heart could wish ▪ This Giant stood on shore of Sea to fish : For angling Rod , he took a sturdy Oake , For line a Cable , that in storm ne're broke ; His hook was such as heads the end of Pole , To pluck down house , e're fire consumes it whole : His hook was baited with a Dragons tail , And then on Rock he stood , to bob for Whale : Which strait he caught , and nimbly home did pack With ten cart load of dinner on his back . So homeward bent , his eye too rude , and cunning , Spies Knight and Lady , by a hedge a sunning . That Modicum of meat he down did lay , ( For it was all he eat on Fasting day . ) They come in 's rage , he spurns up huge tree roots , Now stick to Lady Knight , and up with boots . Enter Gyant , Knight , Damsel . Gyant , Bold recreant wight ! what fate did hi●her call thee , To tempt his strength that ha's such power to maul thee ? How durst thy puling Damsel hither wander What was the talk you by yond hedg did mander ? Damsel , Patience sweet man of might : alas , heaven knowes , We only hither came to gather slows ! And bullies two or three , for truth to tell ye , I 've long'd six weeks , with them to fill my belly . I'fecks , if you 'l believ 't , nought else was meant sure By this our jaunt , which Erants call adventure : Gyant , Shall I grow meek as babe , when ev'ry Trull is So bold to steal my slows , and pick my bullies ? Knight Fear not , let him storm on , and still grow rougher , Thou that art bright as candle clear'd by snuffer , Canst nere endure a blemish or eclips , From such a hook-nos'd , foul-mouth'd blober lips : Ere he shall boast he us'd thee thus to his people , I 'le see him first hang'd high as any Steeple . Gyant , If I but upward heave my Oaken twig , I 'le teach thee play the Tomboy , her the Rig , Within my forrest bounds ; what doth she ail , But she may serve as Cook to dress my Whale ? In this her Damsels tire , and robe of Sarsnet , She shall sowse Bore , fry tripes , and wild hogs harsnet , Knight , Monster vile , thou mighty ill-bred Lubber , Art thou not mov'd to see her whine and bluber ? Shall Damsel fair ( as thou must needs confess her ) With Canvas apron , Cook thy meat at Dresser ? Shall she that is of soft and pliant mettle , ( Whose fingers silk would gaul ) now scowre a Kettle ? Though not to scuffle given , now I 'le thwart thee , Let Blowze thy daughter serve for shillings-forty . 'T is meetter ( I think ) such ugly Baggages Should in a Kitchin drudg for yearly wages , Then gentle she , who hath been bred to stand Neer Chair of Queen , with Island Sh●ck in hand , At Questions and commands all night to play , And amber Possits eat at break of day ; Or score out husbands in the charcole ashes , With Country Knights ( not roaring Country Swashes ) Hath been her breeding still , and 's more fit far , To play on Virginals and the Gitt●r , Then stir a Sea-coal fire , or scum a Cauldron , When thou 'rt to break thy fast on a Bulls chaldron . Giant , Then I perceive I must lift up my Pole , And deal your Love-rich noddle such a dole , That every blow shall make so huge a clatter , Men ten leagues off shall ask , Ha! what 's the matter ? Damsel , King grumbling youth ! I know that thou art able And want of breeding makes thee proud to squable ; Yet sure thy nature doth compunction mean , Though ( las ! ) thy Mother was a sturdy Quean : Let not meek Lovers kindle thy fierce wrath , But keep thy blustring breath to cool thy broth . Knight , Whine not my love , his fury streight will wast him , Stand off a while , and see how I 'le lambast him . Squire , Now look to 't Knight , this such a desp'rate blade is ▪ In Gaule he swing'd the valiant Sir Amadis . Dwarfe , With bow now Cupid shoot the Son of Punk , With Crosse bow else , or Pellet out of Trunk ! Gyant , I 'le strike thee till thou sink where the abode is , Of wights that sneak below , call'd Antipodes . Enter Merlyn , My art shall turn this combate to delight , They shall unto fantastick musick fight . SOME Christian people all give ear , Unto the grief of us , Caus'd by the death of three children dear , The which it hapned thus . And eke there befel an accident , By fault of a Carpenters Son , Who to Saw chips his sharp Axe lent , Woe worth the time may Lon. — May London say , Wo worth the Carpenter , And all such Block-head fools , Would he were hang'd up like a Serpent here , For jefting with edg-tools . For into the chips there fell a spark , Which Put out in such flames , That it was known into Southwark , Which lives beyond the Thames . For Loe the Bridge was wondrous high With water underneath , O're which as many fishes fly , As birds therein doth breath . And yet the fire consum'd the Bridg , Not far from place of landing , And though the building was full big , It fell down not with standing . And eke into the water fell , So many Pewter dishes , That a man might have taken up very well , Both boyld and roasted Fishes ▪ And thus the Bridg of London Town , For building that was sumptuous , Was All by fire Half burnt down , For being too contumptious . And thus you have all , but half my Song , Pray list to what comes after ; For now I have cool'd you with the Fire , I 'le warm you with the water . I 'le tell you what the Rivers name is , Where these children did slide-a , It was faire Londons swiftest Thames , That keeps both time and Tide-a . All on the tenth of January , To the wonder of much people , T' was frozen o're , that well 't would bear Almost a Country Steeple . Three children sliding thereabouts , Upon a place too thin , That so at last it did fall out , That they did all fall in . A great Lord there was that laid with the King , And with the King great wager makes : But when he saw he could not win , He ●ight , and would have drawen stakes . He said it would bear a man for to slide , And laid a hundred pound ; The King said it would break , and so it did , For three children there were drown'd . Of which ones head was from his Should — Ers stricken , whose name was John , Who then cry'd out as loud as he could , O Lon-a Lon-a London . Oh! tut-tut-turn from thy sinfull race , Thus did his speech decay : I wonder that in such a case , He had no more to say . And thus being drown'd , a lack , a lack , The water ran down their throats , And stopt their breaths three houres by the Clock , Before they could get any Beats . Ye Parents all that children have And ye that have none yet ; Preserve your children from the grave , And teach them at home to sit . For had these at a Sermon been , Or else upon dry ground , Why then I would never have been seen , If that they had been drown'd , Even as a Huntsman tyes his dogs , For fear they should goe fro him , So tye your children with severities clogs , Unty'um and you 'l undo'●m . God bless our Noble Parliament , And rid them from all fears , God bless all th' Commons of this Land , And God bless some o' th' Peers . THE PIGG. ( 1 ) I Sing not Reader of the sight 'Twixt Bailiffs and that doughty Knight Sir Ambrose , sung before : Not of that dismall Counter scuffle , Nor yet of that Pantofle , They say the Virgin wore . ( 2 ) No Turkey-cock with Pigmyes fray , Or whether then did get the day , Nor yet Tom Coriots shooes ; Nor yet the swine-fac'd Maydens head , i th' Netherlands they say was bred , Is subject of my Muse . ( 3 ) But in Rhime Doggrill I shall tell , What danger to a Pig befell , As I can well rehearse ; As true as if the Pig could speak On Spit , in Prose would either squeak , Or grunt it out in verse . ( 4 ) A boysterous rout of armed Host Just as the Pig was ready rost , Rusht in at doors , ( God bless us ! ) The Leader of this Warlike rout , Strong men at armes , and stomack stout , I ween , was Captain Bessus . ( 5 ) They lately had in Scotland been , Where they such store of Sows had seen , That garr'd them hate their Babbies : And Bessus men neer Norton lay , Where Pigs you know on Organs play , That once belong'd to abbeys . ( 6 ) It was a Tithe Pig I confess , And so the crime might be no less , Then if 't a Cassock wore ; But yet in Orders it was nere , Nor ever preacht , unless it were Ith'tub the night before . ( 7 ) Nor was it Popishly inclin'd , Although by forrest law their kind , Are taught to use the Ring : What though it wore a Scarlet-Coat ? It nere appear'd i th' Kirk to vote , For her Fine Baby King . ( 8 ) But right or wrong , such dainty Cates Were nere ordain'd for Reprobates , The fat o' th earth is theirs ; The Saints by Faith and Plunder have An heritance , and must inslave Malignants , and their Heirs . ( 9 ) Fall on , fall on , they cry aloud , This Pig 's of Antichristian brood , You 'l find we are no dastards ; Their teeth so sharp , their stomacks keen That Marriots you would them ween , Or Wood of Kents own Bastards . ( 10 ) But now to tell how from the pawes Of th' unlickt Whelps with greedy jawes This Pigg escap'd , hereafter ; As then our bellies gan to prank it , ( Thanks to Besse for that good banquet ) Will fill your mouth with laughter . ( 11 ) A sturdy Lasse with courage bold , On Pigg , and spit , and all , laid hold , And swore she would it rescue ; For whether they their teeth did set , For anger , or for hunger whet , She way'd not that a fescue . ( 12 ) This brave incounter had you seen , You would have sworn she should be Queen Of th' Amazons , or Fayries ▪ And if she make good the retreat , Her sole protectresse wee 'l create Of Milk-maids and their Daryes . ( 13 ) Up staires she marcheth in a trice , And safely convey'd is the Greice Into my Ladies chamber ; Such holy grounds not trod by those , Whose arm-pits , and whose socklesse toes , Are not so sweet as amber . ( 14 ) The Jewes nere eat their paschall Lamb In half such hast , as we did cram This pig unto our dinners : Like Presbyterians we did feed , No grace that day our meat did need , For that belongs to sinners . ( 15 ) And when the story of the Pigg Was done ; the pettitoes a Jigg , Came tripping in at Supper ▪ 'T was meat and drink to us to see The souldiers by the Jade to be Thus thrust besides the crupper . ON DOCTOR GILL , Master of PAULS SCHOOL . IN Pauls Church yard in London , There dwells a noble Ferker , Take heed you that pass , Lest you tast of his Lash ; For I have found him a Jerker : Still doth he cry , Take him up , take him up Sir , Untruss with expedition ▪ O the Burchin tool Which he winds i th' School , Frights worse then an Inquisition . If that you chance to pass there , As doth the man of Blacking , He insults like a Puttock , O're the prey of the Buttock , With a whipt Arse sends him packing , Still doth , &c. For when this well truss'd Trouncer , Into the School doth enter , With his Napkin at his Nose , And his Orange stuft with Gloves : On any Arse he 'l venter , Still doth , &c. A French man void of English , Enquiring for Pauls Steeple , His pardon a Moy , He counted a toy , For he whipt him before all people , Still doth , &c. A Welch man once was wh●pt there , Untill be did beshit him , His Cuds-Pluttera Nail , Could not prevail , For he whipt the Cambro brittain ▪ Still doth ▪ &c. A Captain of the Train'd Band , Sirnam'd Cornelius Wallis : He Whipt him so sore , Both behind and before ; He notcht his Arse like Tallis , Still doth , &c. For a piece of Beefe and Turnip , Neglected with a Cabbage , He took up the Male-Pillion Of his bouncing maid Gillian , And sowe'd her like a Baggage . Still doth , &c. A Porter came in rudely , And disturb'd the humming Concord : He tooke up his Frock , And paid his Nock , And sowc'd him with his own Cord , Still doth he cry , &c. GILL upon GILL : OR , Gills Ass uncas'd , unstript , unbound . SIR , did you me this Epistle send , Which is so vile and lewdly pen'd ; In which no line I can espy Of sense , or true Orthography , So slovenly it goes , In verse and Prose , For which I must pull down your Hose : O good Sir , then cry'd he , In private let it be , And doe not sauce me openly . Yes Sir , I 'le sauce you openly , Before Sound and the company ; And that none at thee may take heart , Though thou art Batc●hlour of Art : Though thou hast paid thy F●es For thy Degrees ▪ Yet I will make thy Arse to sneer ; And now I doe begin To thresh it on thy skin , For now my hand is in , is in ▪ First for the Theams which thou me sent , Wherein much non-sense thou didst vent ; And for that barbarous piece of Greek , For which in Gartheus thou didst seek , And for thy faults not few , In tongue Hebrew : For which a Grove of Birch is due ; Therefore me not beseech To pardon now thy breech , For I 'le be thy Arse Leach , Arse Leach . Next for the offence that thou didst give , When as in Trinity thou didst live , And hadst thy Arse in Wadham Coll. mult For bidding sing , * Quicunque vult , And for thy † Blanketting , And many such a thing , For which thy name in Town doth ring , And none deserves so ill . To hear as bad as Gill , Thy name it is a Proverb still . Next since thou a Preacher were , Thou ventest hast such rascal Geer , For which the French men all cry'd fie , To hear such Pulpit Ribauldry , And sorry were to see , So worthy a degree , So ill to be bestow'd on thee ; But glad am I to say The Masters made thee stay , Till thou in * Quarto didst them pray . But now remains the vilest thing , The Ale house barking 'gainst the K. And all his brave and Noble Peers , For which thou ventredst for thy ears , And if thou hadst thy right , Cut off , they had been quite , And thou hadst been a Rogue in sight : But though thou mercy finde , Yet I 'le not be so kinde , But I 'le jerk thee behind , behind . FINIS - Notes, typically marginal, from the original text Notes for div A49304e-120 This was the Authors Prologue . His haire was not powdred . Note here every thing is the worse for wearing . All men cannot be Schollars . * As any man in love may doe . † It may be called Curral , in respect of rubbing of Gums . * As it may be Reader thy self hast done . † Observe in this the childishnesse of a Lover . * Meaning into his Breeches . † True lover : walk on Fish-dayes . † As one would say , Wide . quoth Wallis , when his — was in the Bed-straw . Not Don Dego , she hated a Spaniard . * It seemeth they made a toil of a pleasure . † They are called red Worms , because they creep into holes . * A Medlar by the Philosopher , is thought to be an Open-Arse . * Which cup Reader , thou wouldst be loath to drink in . † Rubbish , the Author takes for ●oves Molicum . * He had one eye which did ever run . * Slow to ●o from ●ove . † Here the Author shews himself a Linguist . * Pode , or loves limepit . * Fego is a word of courage , as we cry , St. George . * Here you must note , nothing can be hid from true love . † Here the Author pittieth Leander , and despiseth the Fish . * Being lecherous meat . Stock-fish . * Unkindness will force teares sometimes . † He had the tooth-ache . * This I commend to thee for a searching Simile . * It might have been any mans case . * Tack , by reason it would hold tack . * Her Wallet was laid under her . * The fourth part of a bushel . * A famous Surgeon in his time . † An old word , but young men use it . * No cut to unkindness . Notes for div A49304e-16080 * When he was Clark in Wadham , and being by his place to begin a Psalm he flung out of Church , bidding the people sing to the praise and Glory of God Quicunque vult . † He was toss'd in a Blanket . A Knaves tongue and a Whores tail who can hold ? * He did fit four times for his degree . 
A89049	----	Musarum deliciæ: or, The Muses recreation. Conteining severall select pieces of sportive vvit. / By Sr J.M. and Ja:S. Mennes, John, Sir, 1599-1671. This text is an enriched version of the TCP digital transcription A89049 of text R202916 in the English Short Title Catalog (Thomason E1672_1). 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. 119 KB of XML-encoded text transcribed from 48 1-bit group-IV TIFF page images. EarlyPrint Project Evanston,IL, Notre Dame, IN, St. Louis, MO 2017 A89049 Wing M1710 Thomason E1672_1 ESTC R202916 99863045 99863045 115227 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. A89049) Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 115227) Images scanned from microfilm: (Thomason Tracts ; 209:E1672[1]) Musarum deliciæ: or, The Muses recreation. Conteining severall select pieces of sportive vvit. / By Sr J.M. and Ja:S. Mennes, John, Sir, 1599-1671. Smith, James, 1605-1667. Herringman, Henry, d. 1704, H. H. [8], 72, 71-86, 73-87, [1] p. Printed for Henry Herringman, and are to be sold at his shop, at the signe of the Anchor in the New Exchange, London, : 1655. Sr J.M. = Sir John Mennes; Ja: S. = James Smith. Preface signed: H.H. [i.e. Henry Herringman?]. In verse. The first leaf is blank. Sixteen lines of text from the first p. 71 are repeated on the second page 71. Annotation on Thomason copy: "August 28.". Reproduction of the original in the British Library. eng Humorous poetry, English -- 17th century. A89049 R202916 (Thomason E1672_1). civilwar no Musarum deliciæ: or, The Muses recreation.: Conteining severall select pieces of sportive vvit. / By Sr J.M. and Ja:S. Mennes, John, Sir 1655 20209 23 0 0 0 0 0 11 C The rate of 11 defects per 10,000 words puts this text in the C category of texts with between 10 and 35 defects per 10,000 words. 2007-03 TCP Assigned for keying and markup 2007-04 Apex CoVantage Keyed and coded from ProQuest page images 2007-06 Robyn Anspach Sampled and proofread 2007-06 Robyn Anspach Text and markup reviewed and edited 2008-02 pfs Batch review (QC) and XML conversion Musarum Deliciae : OR , THE MUSES RECREATION . Conteining severall select Pieces of sportive VVit. By Sr J. M. and Ja : S. LONDON , Printed for Henry Herringman , and are to be sold at his Shop , at the Signe of the Anchor in the New Exchange , 1655. THE STATIONER TO THE Ingenious READER . PLain Poetry is now disesteem'd , it must be Drollery or it will not please : I have therefore , to regal the curious Pallats of these Times , made a Collection of Sir John Mennis , and Doctor Smiths Drolish Intercourses ; which as they need no recommendation to your acceptance , the world being well acquainted with the ingenuity both of those persons , and their preductions ; so neither can you suspect them adulterate , since they are inimitable by any but themselves . Read , Laugh and enjoy . H. H. MUSARUM DELICIAE : OR , The Muses Recreation . To Parson WEEKS . An Invitation to London . HOw now , my John , what , is 't the care Of thy small Flock , that keeps thee there ? Or hath the Bishop , in a rage , Forbid thy comming on our Stage ? Or want'st thou Coyn ? or want'st thou Steed ? These are impediments indeed : But , for thy Flock , thy Sexton may In due time ring , and let them pray . A Bishop , with an Offering , May be brought unto any thing . For want of Steed , I oft see Vic Trudge up to Town with hazle stick ; For Coyn , two Sermons by the way , Will Host , Hostesse ; and Tapster pay . A willing minde pawns Wedding-ring , Wife , Gown , Books , Children , any thing . No way neglected , nought too deare To see such friends , as thou hast here . I met a Parson on the way , Came in a Wagon t'other day , Who told me , that he ventur'd forth With one Tythe Pig , of little worth ; With which , and saying grace at food , And praying for Lord Carryers good : He had arriv'd at 's Journeyes end , Without a penny , or a friend . And what great businesse doe you think ? Onely to see a friend , and drink . One friend ? why thou hast thousands here Will strive to make thee better chear . Ships lately from the Islands came With Wines , thou never heardst their name . Montefiasco , Frontiniac , Viatico , and that old Sack Yong Herric took to entertaine The Muses in a sprightly vein . Come then , and from thy muddy Ale , ( Which serves but for an old wifes Tale : Or , now and then , to break a jest , At some poor silly neighbours Feast ) Rouze up , and use the meanes , to see Those friends , expect thy wit , and thee . And though you cannot come in state , On Camels back , like Coryat : Imagine that a pack-horse be The Camell , in his book you see . I know you have a fancy , can Conceive your guide a Caravan . Rather then faile , speak Treason there , And come on charges of the Shire ; A London Gaol , with friends and drink , Is worth your Vicaridge , I think . But if besotted with that one Thou hast , of ten , stay there alone ; And , all too late lament and cry , Th'hast lost thy friends , among them , I. To a friend upon a journey to Epsam Well . SIR , though our flight deserves no care Of your enquiry , where we are ; Yet , for to put you out of doubt , Read but these Lines , you 'l smell us out . We having at the Mazard din'd , Where Veal and Mutton open chin'd , Hang on the Shambles ; thence we pace To Putney's Ferry , Coomes old Chase We next pass'd o're , then to the Town Which name of King doth much renowne ; Where having supp'd , we went to bed , Our selves and Cattell wearied . Next morning e're the Sun appear'd , Our Horses and our selves well chear'd ; To Epsam Well we ask'd the way , Of young and old , of poor and gay : Where , after five or six mistakes , We found the Spring , neer hid with brakes . These waters cleer , two Hermits keep , Who alwaies either wake , or sleep ; And by alternate courses , wait On Man or Beast , if here you bait . 'T is here the people farre and neer Bring their Diseases , and go clear . Some drink of it , and in an houre , Their Stomach , Guts , and Kidneyes scower : Others doe Bathe , and Ulcers cure , Dry Itch , and Leprosie impure ; And what in Lords you call the Gout , In poor the Pox , this drives all out . Close by the Well , you may discerne Small shrubs of Eglantin and Fern , Which shew the businesse of the place ; For here old Ops her upper face Is yellow , not with heat of Summer , But safroniz'd with mortall scumber . But then the pity to behold Those antient Authors , which of old Wrote down for us , Philosophy , Physick , Musick , and Poetry , Now to no other purpose tend , But to defend the fingers end . Here lyes Romes Naso torn and rent , New reeking from the Fundament : Galens old rules could not suffice , Nor yet Hippocrates the wise . Not teaching , how to clense , can doe , Themselves must come and wipe it too . Here did lye Virgil , there lay Horace , Which newly had wip'd his , or her Arse , Anacreon reeled too and fro , Vex'd , that they us'd his papers so . And Tully with his Offices , Was forc'd to doe such works as these . Here lies the Letter of a Lover , Which piece-meale did the thing discover . Sonnets halfe written would not stay , But must necessity obey . This made us for a while to think , The Muses here did seldome drink : But hap what would , we light from stirrup , And streight descend to drink the syrrup . The good old Father takes a cup , When five times wash'd , he fills it up With this priz'd Liquor , then doth tell The strange effects of this new Well . Quoth he , my friends , though ▪ I be plaine , I have seen here many a goodly train Of Lords and Ladies , richly clad , With Aches more then ere I had : These having drunk a week , or so , Away with health most jocund go : Mean while the Father thus did prate , We still were drinking as we sat ; Till Gut by rumbling , us beseeches , My boyes , beware , you 'l wrong your Breeches . Ah , doth it worke ? the old man cryes , Yonder are brakes to hide your thighes . Where , though 't were neer we hardly came , Ere one of us had been too blame . Here no Olympick games they use , No wrestling here , Limbs to abuse , But he that gaines the glory here Must scumber furthest , shite most clear . And , for to make us emulate , The good old Father doth relate The vigour of our Ancestors , Whose shiting far exceeded ours . Quoth he , doe you see that below ? I doe , quoth I , his head 's now low , But here have I seen old John Jones , From this hill , shite to yonder stones . But him Heaven rest , the ma●●…s dead , This speech of his me netled ; With that my head I straightway put Between my knees , and mounting scut , At chiefest randome , forty five , With Lyons face , dung forth I drive , The ayre 's divided , and it flyes , Like Draco volans through the skies . Or who had seen a Conduit break , And at the hole with fury reak : Had he but hither took the paine To come , had seen it once againe . Here Colon play'd his part indeed , And over-shit the stones a reed . Whereat the Father , all amaz'd , Limps to the place , where having gaz'd With heav'd up hands , and fixed eyes , Quoth he , dear , let me kisse those thighes That prop the taile will carry hence Our glory and magnificence . His suit being granted , home he walkes , And to himselfe of wonders talkes ; From whence he brings a painted stake , High to be seen , above the Brake : And having ask'd my name , he writ In yellow Letters , who 'twas shit , Which still stands as a Monument Call'd Long-taile , from the Man of Kent . This being all the first day did , We home retir'd , where we lay hid In Alehouse , till another day Shall prompt my Muse ; then more I 'le say . 'Till when , take this , to make an end , I rest your servant , and your friend . To a friend upon his Marriage . SInce last I writ , I heare deare honey , Thou hast committed Matrimony ; And soberly both Morn and Even , Dost take up smock , in fear of Heaven . Alas poor Soul , thy Marriage vow Is as the Rites , unhallowed now ; Sleighted by Man , ordain'd by Bishop , Not one , whom zeal hath scar'd from his shop . The Ring prophane , and Surplice foule , No better then a Friers Cowl , With Poesie vile , and at thy Table Fidlers , that were abhominable , Who sung , perhaps , a song to Hymen , And not a Psalm to edifie men . It is th'opinion of this place , Thou canst not get a Babe of Grace . This story is sad ; to make amends , I 'le tell thee news , to tell thy friends . You heard of late , what Chevaliers ( Who durst not tarry for their eares ) Prescribed were , for such a plot As might have ruin'd Heaven knows what : Suspected for the same 's Will D'avenant , Whether he have been in 't , or have not , He is committed , and , like Sloven , Lolls on his Bed , in garden Coven . He had been rack'd , as I am told , But that his body would not hold . Soon as in Kent they saw the Bard , ( As to say truth , it is not hard , For Will has in his face , the flawes Of wounds receiv'd in Countreys cause : ) They flew on him , like Lions passant , And tore his Nose , as much as was on 't : They call'd him Superstitious Groom , And Popish Dog , and Curre of Rome ; But this I 'm sure , was the first time , That Wills Religion was a crime . What ere he is in 's outward part , He is sure a Poet in his heart . But 't is enough , he is thy friend , And so am I , and there 's an end . From London , where we sit and muse , And pay Debts when we cannot chuse ; The day that Bishops , Deans and Prebends , And all their friends , wear mourning Ribbands ; If this day smile , they 'l ride in Coaches , And , if it frown , then Bonas Noches . In answer to certaine Letters , which he received from London , whilst he was engaged to follow the Camp . WHat , Letters two , on New-years-day ? 'T is signe , thy Muse hath leave to play , And swelling grape distills his Liquor , Which makes thy Pulse and muse flow quicker . Alas poor Soules ! in Mud we travell , And each day vex'd with Martch and Gravel , And when at night , we come to quarter , Drink , what thou wouldst not give to Porter . From Northern soyl , I lately came , With Horses two of mine , one Lame ; But when I came to house of state , Where quondam fled his Grace in Plate : Expecting after journey scurvey , Solace , I found all topsie turvy . New Orders bid me thence away , The people grumble , they want pay ; And now , like wandring Knights we wend Without a penny , or a friend : Our score growes great , from whence we goe , And every Alehouse turn'd a foe . These give their friends intelligence That we are coming , without pence ; And those we feare , will shut the door At wandring Prince , when known so poor . However , we march on to morrow , And here , and there , small summes we borrow . Judge , if thy Muse could soar so high , When pinion 's clip'd , what Bird can fly ? No , no , good Wine and ease I 'm barr'd of , Which makes my Muse to come so hard off ; And hearing fellowes nine in London , Get cash , carouse , while I am undon : While not one Captaine here will tarry But John , with Horse of Commissary ; And here he spends his time and pence , Without a hope of recompence , And scarce sees friends , but such as grutch him , If he have coyn , they none , they catch him With that old beaten , trodden way , Jack , canst thou lend , till next pay day ? Till now , at length my pocket 's grown Like Nest defil'd , when Bird is flown . Judge , from such stories , if you can Expect a Muse from any man . Yet have I still respects from them , Who weekly think upon . J. M. To noble Kenelm , say , I drink , And unto Lord of Downe , I thinke The day , when Janus , with face double , Looks on the pass'd , and coming trouble . The first day ever rich or poor , Wrote forty yeares , and one before . The House , the Talbot , Corney Host , My liquor now , but Ale and Tost . In answer to this last , or some such like Letter . WHy seeks my friend so vain excuse , For the long silence of his Muse ; As if her faculty were worse , Because joyn'd with an empty purse ? Lines may accrew , although the pence That use to purchase Influence From constellation of Corney , Be fewer , then will fee Attorney . Thou knowst that Vacuus cantabit , ( Ther 's Latin for thee , though but a bit ) Sing then , and le ts be free from blame , Thy Verse is fat , though horse be lame . Seest thou not , Ovid , Homer , Virgil , With Muse more needy , John , then your Gill ; Indite things high , and rest the Ivie , From wealthy Tacitus and Livie : From Cicero , ( that wrote in Prose ) So call'd , from Rouncival on 's Nose . For , though 't was hid , till now of late , Yet 't is a truth , as firme as fate , That Poets , when their Money scants , Are oft inspired by their wants . Want makes them rage , and rage Poetick Makes Muse , and Muse makes work for Critick . As for thy pocket , which thou say'st Is like to a defiled Nest , A Nest , that is of all bereft , Save what the Cat in Maulthouse left ; There is a Proverb to thy comfort , Known , as the ready way to Rumford , That , when the pot ore fire you heat , A Lowse is better then no meat ; So , in your Pocket by your favour , Something , you know , will have some savour . But soft , the word is now come forth , We all must pack into the North ; When minde of Man was set to play , And riding Boot lay out of th'way ; We were commanded in a Minute , To journey base , the Devil 's in it ; For now I have no more minde to 't , Then is an Apple like a Nut : Yet look I must for riding tackle , In corners of my Tabernacle ; And look , as men for slanders heark , Or one that gropes in privy darke , So must I search with fear of minde , And seek for what I would not finde . Had I two faces , like to Janus , ( A Month that now hath overtane us . ) With one of them I 'le smile in Town , While tother 'mong my foes did frown . But wishes help not , nor can with ▪ Hold , from embracing thee , James Smith . Long Aker , from the Angel Tavern , Two hundred miles from head of Severn . Where , for my shillings twain , I dine , With Tongue of Neat , far worse then mine : The tenth of January day durty . One thousand , hundreds six , and forty . Description of three Beauties . PHiloclea and Pamela sweet , By chance in one great house did meet , And meeting did so joyne in heart , That t'one from t'other could not part . And who , indeed , not made of Stones , Would separate such lovely ones ? The one is beautifull , and faire , As Lillies and white Roses are ; And sweet , as after gentle showers , The breath is of ten thousand flowers . From due proportion , a sweet aire Circles the other , not so faire ; Which so her Brown doth beautifie , That it inchants the wisest eye . Have you not seen , on some bright day , Two goodly Horses , White , and Baye , Which were so beauteous in their pride , You knew not which to chuse , or ride ? Such are these two , you scarce can tell , Which is the daintier Bonny bell : And they are such , as , by my troth , I had been dead in love with both , And might have sadly said , goodnight Discretion , and good fortune quite , But that God Cupid , my old Master , Presented me a Soveraigne plaister : Mopsa , even Mopsa , prety Mouse , Best piece of Wainscot in the House ; Whose Saffron Teeth , and Lips of Leeks , Whose Corall Nose , and Parchment Cheeks ; Whose Past-board forehead , eyes of Ferret , Breast of brown Paper , Neck of Caret ; And other parts , not evident , For which dame nature should be shent , Are Spells and Charms of great renown , Concupiscence to conjure downe . How oft have I been reft of sence , By gazing on their excellence , Till meeting Mopsa in my way , And looking on her face of Clay , I soon was cur'd and made as sound , As though I never had a wound . And when , in Tables of my heart , Love with such things as bred my smart ; My Mopsa , with her face of Clout , Would in an instant wipe them out : And when their faces made me sick ▪ Mopsa would come with hers of Brick , A little heated by the fire , And break the neck of my desire . Now from their face I turne mine eyes , But ( cruel Panthers ) they surprize Me with their breath , that incense sweet , Which onely for the Gods is meet ; And jointly from them doth respire Like both the Indies set on fire , Which so orecomes mans ravish'd sence , That Soules to follow it , fly hence . Nor such like smell you , as you range By th'Stocks , or Old , or New Exchange . Then stood I still as any Stock , Till Mopsa with her puddle Dock . Her Compound or Electuary , Made of old Ling , or Caviary , Bloat Herring , Cheese , or voided Physick , ( Being sometimes troubled with the Tysick ) Did Cough , and fetch a sigh so deep , As did her very bottom sweep ; Whereby to all she did impart , How Love lay rankling at her heart ; Which when I smelt , desire was slaine , And they breathe forth perfumes in vaine . Their Angels voice surpriz'd me now , But Mopsa's shrill ; To whit to whoo Descending through her hollow Nose , Did that distemper soon compose . And therefore Oh thou vertuous Owle , The wise Minerva's onely fowle : What at thy shrine shall I devise To offer up for Sacrifice ? Hang Aesculapius , and Apollo , Hang Ovid with his precepts shallow : With patience who will now indure Your slow and most uncertaine cure , Seeing Mopsa's found , for Man and Beast , To be the sure Probatum est ? Oh thou , Loves chiefest Medicine , True water to Dame Venus wine , Best Cordiall , soundest Antidote , To conquer Love , and cut his throat ; Be but my second , and stand by , And I their beauties both defie , And all else of those Faery races That wear infection in their faces ; For I 'le come safe out of the Field With this thy face , Medusa's shield . A journey into France . I Went from England into France , Neither to learn to sing , nor dance , To ride , nor yet to Fence : Nor did I goe like one of those That doe returne with halfe the nose They carried from hence . But I to Paris rid along Much like Iohn Dory in the song , Upon a holy Tide : I on an ambling Nag did get , I thinke he is not paid for yet , And spurr'd him on each side . And to S. Denis first we came , To see the sights at Nostredame , The man that shewes them snuffles ; Where who is apt for to believe , May see our Ladies right arme sleeve , And eke her old Pantofle . Her Breasts , her Milk , her very Gown , Which she did weare in Bethlem Town , When in the Inne she lay ; Yet all the world knowes , that 's a fable , For so good Cloaths ne'r lay in stable , Upon a lock of Hay . No Carpenter could by his Trade Gaine so much Coyn , as to have made A Gown of so rich Stuffe ; Yet they ( poor fools ) thinke for their credit , They must believe old Joseph did it , Cause she deserv'd enough . There is one of the Crosses Nailes , Which who so sees , his Bonnet vailes ; And , if he will , may kneel : Some say , 't is false , 't was never so , Yet , feeling it , thus much I know , It is as true as Steel . There is a Lanthorne which the Jewes , When Judas led them forth did use ; It weighed my weight down right : But to believe it , you must think The Jewes did put a Candle in 't , And then 't was wondrous light . There 's one Saint there hath lost his Nose , Another's head , but not his Toes , His Elbow , and his Thumb ; But when w'had seen the holy rags , We went to th'Inne , and took our Nags , And so away did come . We came to Paris , on the Seyn , 'T is wondrous faire , but nothing clean , 'T is Europes greatest Town ; How strong it is , I need not tell it , For any man may easily smell it , That walkes it up and down . There many strange things you may see , The Palace , the great Gallery , Place royall doth excell : The New Bridge , and the Statue 's there , At Nostredame , Saint Christopher , The Steeple beares the Bell . For Learning , th'University , And for old Clothes , the Frippery , The house the Queen did build . Saint Innocents , whose earth devoures Dead Corps , in foure and twenty houres , And there the * King was kill'd . The Bastile and St. Denis street , The Chastelet , just like London Fleet , The Arsenal , no Toy ; But if you 'l see the prettiest thing , Goe to the Court , and view the King , Oh 't is a hopefull Boy . Of all his Nobles , Dukes and Peers , He 's reverenc'd for his wit and years , Nor must you thinke it much : For he with little switch can play , And can make fine Dirt pies of Clay , Oh never King made such . A Bird that doth but kill a Flye , Or prates , doth please his Majesty , 'T is known to every one ; The Duke of Guise gave him a Parret , And he had twenty Cannons for it , For his new Galleon . Oh that I e're might have the hap To get the Bird , that , in the Map , Is call'd the Indian Ruck ; I 'le give it him , and hope to be As great as Guise or Luyne , Or else I had ill luck . Birds round about his Table stand , And he them feeds with his owne hand , 'T is his humility ; And if they doe want any thing , They need but chirp for their kind King , And he comes presently . And now , for those rare parts he must Entituled be , Lewis the Just , Great Henries lawfull heire ; When to his style , to adde more words , Th'ad better call him King of Birds , Then King of lost Navarre . He hath besides a pretty firk , Taught him by nature how to worke In Iron , with much ease ; Sometimes into the Forge he goes , And there he knocks , & there he blows , And makes both Locks and Keyes . Which moves a doubt in every one Whether he 's Mars or Vulcans Son , Some few believe his Mother ; But let them all say what they will , I am resolv'd and doe think still , As much the one as th'other . The people doe dislike the youth , Alledging reason , for , in truth , Mothers should honour'd be ; Yet others say , he loves her rather , As well as ere she lov'd his Father ; That 's a notorious lye . His Queen 's a little pretty Wench , Was born in Spain , speaks little French , Not like to be a Mother : For her incestuous House would not Have any Children , but begot By Unkle , or by Brother . Now why should Lewis , being so just , Content himselfe to take his Lust With his lascivious Mate , And suffer his little pretty Queen , From all her race , that e're hath been . Once to degenerate ? 'T were Charity for to be known Love others Children , as his owne , And why ? it is no shame : Unlesse that he would greater be Then was his Father Henery , Who ( men thought ) did the same . Hankins Heigh-hoa . NOrth Britain loved Sculler of our times , That twy-beat'st this way , that way going Thames ; Divine Aquarius of all fluent rimes , Such as describe Lepanto's bloudy streames . Lend me thy Scull , full of Pyerian sweat My sorrowes to repeat , And in each Pye , I le bake up every she , Big as thy Boat for thee . Thrice had all New-years Guests their yewl guts fill'd With embalm'd Veal , buried in Christmas Past , Thrice had they Ivy herby wreath , well pill'd ; Crane slept at Totnam first , at Chelsey last ; Since first my heart was broach'd on Cupids spit , Roasting bit after bit , In her loves flames , who casts it now behinde , And blow'st away with winde . When I had built with practick Architecture Newcastle Mine , refin'd to such a frame Proportionable , as might deserve a Lecture , And that the Mast staid onely for a flame ; Her love alone , without or Match or Tinder , New styl'd this new built Cinder , And so an Embleme of our Love we beeted , The word black , but love lighted . Oft have I perboyl'd been with blubbering grief , Season'd & sows'd with brine of bitter tears , With Sallads slic'd , and Lettuc'd up with Beef , With Vineger and Sugar , hopes and feares , Undone like Oysters , pepper'd with despair , All for this Laundres fair , Who now she thinkes , a bitter bit hath got To furnish her flesh-pot . My Kitchin dore , like Pluto's gates still ope , Down coms this beauteous Queen , like Proserpin , I smear'd with soot , and she with suds of Sope , Was ever match more necessary seen ? And faith we swore , I by my Oven and Peel , She by her Starch and Steel ; Which sacred Oath I kept , but she hers broke , And turn'd it into smoak . Hartford , now Hatesford , which my Heartsford Be ever ruinous , as thou art this day ; Because thou bredst this well wash'd Laundry Lass , was ▪ Let Ware beguile thee of thy rich road way ; And may thy Craifish River fall from thee As she forsaketh me : But he that hath her I doe wish no worse , Then a true Sedgely curse . You Chargers from my hands that lustre drew , To brighten you to Starres , but spotlesse faire ; You twinkling Sawcers , Constellations new , And glazing Platters , which like Comets are , Be ever dark , let neither Chalk nor Sand , Nor the Oily circling hand For evermore re-kindle you againe , But mourn you for my pain . Draw me the bravest Spit that e're was bent With massy Member of laborious beast ; Drill me from Mouth to Taile incontinent , Dresse me and dish me at the Nuptiall Feast , Thus for her Love and losse , poor Hankin dyes , His amorous Soule down flies To th'bottome of the Cellar , there to dwell ; Susan , farewell , farewell . Some Gentlemen shut out of their seats in Pauls , while they went to drinke . NOwnes , Gentlemen , how now ? shut out ? Must we , mix'd with the zealous rout , Stand hoofeing on the vulgar stone , To hear the Cheuri-illeson ? First , Let the Organs , one by one , Treble their Lamentation ; And the Quyries sing , till they For want of moisture fall to play , Ere it shall be said , that I Let my choice devotions fly Up from hence , in th'foul-mouth'd peal Of Prentice Orisons , where my zeal Shall stand cheap-rated , faith , for why ? The best seat's shut , and we put by . We did but step aside awhile With juyce of Grapes our Lamps to oyl ; Where staying long , we came too late , And shar'd the foolish Virgins fate . Yet saw I two or three within , Faire Virgins , such as had no sin : Or if they had , their worths high rate Might it soon transubstantiate Into a Vertue , whose least share , A branch of holy Saints might wear . Should great Saint Peter me deny Passage , t' enjoy such company , We should fall foule , unlesse that he Put me to them , or them to me . Vpon a lame tired Horse . ABout the time — — — Aurora in her Mantle wrapp'd the clime , When the bright Day , and thirsty Sun had quaft A thousand Flagons , for his mornings draught , Brim full with Pearly dew ; I got me up , And tasted freely of a liberall cup ; Pursu'd my journey , on a Horse as poor As is a sterved Beggar at the door , Or Pharaoh's leanest Cow ; there was as much Flesh on his back , as on an old Mans Crutch . Now men observing , that I was so fat , And durst ride on a Horse so lean as that , Did scoff and jeer me , as I pass'd the way , And , as I thought did one to th'other say , The horse has strip'd his flesh , and on his back Does carry it , as Pedlars doe a Pack . For I have often seen upon my troth , Poor ragged Pedlars carry packs of Cloth . Another swore , that I was some Saint Paul , Because my Horse was so spirituall . A Clown unto his fellowes cryes , Gods soes , I thinke this Horse has Corns upon his Toes . Another swore , that I no more did ride , Then Children , that a Hobby-horse bestride ; Another said , my horse did sure intend , To tell each step unto his journeyes end . But , e're I got out of a Lane to th'Heath , I 'le take my oath , they jeer'd my Horse to death . Vpon a Surfeit caught by drinking evill Sack , at the George Tavern in Southwark . WHo thought that such a storm , Ned , when our Souls , From the Calme Harbour of Domestick Bowles , Would needs abord the George , t' embark our brain , To the Cantabrian Calenture of Spain ? Oh hadst thou seen , ( and happy are thy eyes That did not see ) that Fridayes Crudities , Such Hecatombs of indigested Sack Retreated up my throat , oh what a wrack 'T was , to a thick-brain'd paper-Boat of wit , In a Canary voyage to be split ? We drank old Lees , & gave our heads a fraught , Of that Don Pedro left in Eighty Eight : A bawdy house would scorne it , 't was too poor , For those that play at Noddy on the score . Felt-makers had refus'd it ; Nay , I think The Deuill would abhorre such posset-drink . Bacchus , I 'm sure detests it , 't is too bad For Hereticks , a Friar would be mad To blesse such vile unconsecrable stuffe , And Brownists would conclude it good enough For such a Sacrifice : I 'ld wish no worse A draught unto the Ignorant , nor curse My foes beyond it . Not a Beads-man sure ▪ At a Town Funerall would it endure ; Much lesse a Man of sence ; 't were an affront , To put an understanding Fur upon 't , Or Burgo Mistris : It is such a thing Would dam a Vintner at a Christening . Yet we must quaff these dregs , and be constrain'd To what the L●ety , seven years since disdain'd ▪ Oh would I might turne Poet for an houre , To Satyrize with a vindictive power Against the Drawer ! or I could desire Old Iohnsons head had scalded in this fire ▪ How would he rage , and bring Apollo down To scold with Bacchus , and depose the Clown , For his ill government , and so confute Our Poet Apes , that doe so much impute Unto the grapes inspirement ! Let them sit , And from the winepresse , squeeze a bastard wit But I , while Sever● , and old Avon can Afford a draught ; while there 's a Cider-Man , Or a Metheglenist , while there 's a Cup Of Beer or Ale , I doe forswear to sup Of wicked Sack : Thus Solemn I come from it , No dog would e're return to such a vomit . The Lowse's Peregrination . DIscoveries of late have been made by adventure , Where many a pa●e hath been set on the Tenter , And many a Tale hath been told more then true is , How Whales have been serv'd whole , to Saylors in Brewis . But here 's a poor lowse , by these presents desies The Catalogue of old Mandevils Lyes : And this I report of a certaine . My Father and Mother , when first they joyn'd paunches , Begot me betwen an old Pedlers haunches ; Where grown to a Creeper , I know how a pox I Got to suck by chance of the bloud of his doxie . Where finding the sweetnesse of this my new pasture , I left the bones of my pockified Master , And there I struck in for a fortune . A Lord of this Land that lov'd a Bum well , Did lie-with this Mort one night in the Strummel , I cling'd me fast to him , and left my companions , I scorn'd to converse more with Tatterdemalians ; But sued to Sir Giles , to promise in a Patent , That my Heires might enjoy clean Linnen and Sattin ; But the Parliament cross'd my Intention . This Lord that I follow'd delighted in Tennis , He sweat out my fat with going to Venice , Where with a brave Donna , in single Duello , He left me behinde him within the Burdello ; Where leacherous passages I did discover , Betwixt Bonna Roba , and Diego her Lover , Youl 'd wonder to heare the discourse of 't . The use of the Dildo they had without measure , Behind and before , they have it at pleasure ; All Aretines wayes , they practice with labour , An Eunuch they hate like Bethlem Gabor ; Counting the English man but as a Stallion , Leaving the Goat unto the Italian : And this is the truth that I tell you . Thus living with wonder , escaping the talent , Of Citizen , Clown , Whore , Lawyer , and Gallant , At last came a Soldier , I nimbly did ferk him , Up the greazy skirts of●s robustuous Buff Jerkin ; Where finding companions , without any harm I Was brought before Breda , to Spinola's Army : And there I remaine of a certain . King Oberon's Apparell . WHen the Monthly horned Queen Grew jealous , that the Stars had seen Her rising from Endymions armes , In rage , she throws her misty charmes Into the bosome of the night , To dim their curious prying light . Then did the dwarfish Faery Elves ( Having first attir'd themselves ) Prepare to dresse their Oberon King In highest robes , for revelling . In a Cobweb shirt , more thin Then ever Spider since could spin , Bleach'd by the whitenesse of the Snow , As the stormy windes did blow It in the vast and freezing aire ; No shirt halfe so fine , so faire . A rich Wastcoat they did bring Made of the Trout flies gilded wing , At that his Elveship , gan to fret , Swearing it would make him sweat , Even with its weight , and needs would wear His Wastcoat wove of downy haire , New shaven from an Eunuch's chin ; That pleas'd him well , 't was wondrous thin . The out-side of his Doublet was Made of the four-leav'd true-love grasse , On which was set so fine a glosse , By the oyle of crispy mosse ; That through a mist , and starry light , It made a Rainbow every night . On every Seam , there was a Lace Drawn by the unctuous Snailes slow trace ; To it , the purest Silver thread Compar'd , did look like dull pale Lead . Each Button was a sparkling eye T'ane from the speckled Adders Frye , Which in a gloomy night , and dark , Twinckled like a fiery spark : And , for coolnesse , next his skin , 'T was with white Poppy lin'd within . His Breeches of that Fleece were wrought , Which from Colchos Jason brought ; Spun into so fine a Yarne , That mortals might it not discerne ; Wove by Arachne , in her Loom , Just before she had her doom ; Dy'd crimson with a Maidens blush , And lyn'd with Dandely on Plush . A rich mantle he did wear Made of Tinsel Gossamer , Bestarred over with a few Dyamond drops of morning dew . His Cap was all of Ladies love , So passing light , that it did move , If any humming Gnat or Fly But buzz'd the ayre , in passing by ; About it was a wreath of Pearle , Drop'd from the eyes of some poor girle Pinch'd , because she had forgot To leave faire water in the pot . And for Feather , he did weare Old Nisus fatall purple haire . The sword they girded on his Thigh , Was smallest blade of finest Rye . A paire of Buskins they did bring Of the Cow Ladyes Corall wing ; Powder'd o're with spots of Jet , And lin'd with purple-Violet . His Belt was made of mirtle leaves , Plaited in small curious threaves , Beset with Amber Cowslip studds , And fring'd about with Daizy Budds . In which his Bugle horne was hung , Made of the babbling Eccho's tongue ; Which set unto his Moon-burn'd lip , He windes , and then his Faeries skip : At that , the lazy dawn'gan sound , And each did trip a Faery round . A Poets farewell to his thred bare Cloak . CLoak ( if I so may call thee ) though thou art My old acquaintance , prithee now let 's part ; Thou wer 't my equall friend in thirty one , But now thou look'st like a meer hanger on , And art so uselesse to me , I scarce know Sometimes whether I have thee on or no . But this I needs must say , when thou go'st from me , These ten years thou hast been no burden to me : Yet that 's thy accusation ; for if I Divorce thee from me , 't is for Levity . Thou hast abus'd my Bed , that is , thou hast Not kept me warme , when thou wer 't over-cast . Transparent garment , proof against all weather , Men wonder by what art thou hang'st together ; Nor can the eyes of the best reason pry Into this new Occult Geometry . A fellow t'other day but cast his eye on , And swore I was mantled in Dent de lion . Another ask't me ( who was somewhat bolder ) Whether I wore a Love-bagge on my shoulder ? I feare a fire , as faire maids the small poxe , And dare not look towards a Tinder-boxe , Nor him that sells'em up and downe ; I know , If he comes neer me , 't is but touch and goe . A red-fac'd fellow frights me , though some fear That wch makes his nose red , makes my cloak bare . They say my thick Back , and thin Cloak appear , Very like powder'd Beef , and Vinegar . An other vow'd ( whose tongue had no restriction ) It was no garment , but the Poets fiction . Did ever man discover such a knack , To walk in Querpo with a Cloak on 's back ! A very zealous brother did begin To jeer and say , Sir , your Original sinne Is not wash'd off ( pray do not take it ill ) I see , you weare your Fathers Fig-leaves still . A Scholar ( in an elevated thought ) Protested , 'T was the Webbe Arachne wrought When she contended with Minerva : but Another Raschal had his finger cut , And begg'd a piece to wrap about it . Thus You see ( kind Cobwebs ) how they laugh at us . Good Cambrick Lawn , depart ; let me not be For ever fetter'd thus in Tiffany . Although I never yet did merit praise , I 'de rather have my shoulders crown'd with Bays Than hung with Cypresse . If this fortune be Alwayes dependant on poore Poetry , I would my kinder destiny would call Me to be one o'th'Clerks of Blackwell-hall ; For though their easie studies are more dull , Yet what they want in wit , they have in wool . Once more farewell , these are no times for thee , Thick Cloaks are onely fit for knavery . The onely Cloaks that now are most in fashion Are Liberty , Religion , Reformation : All these are fac'd with zeal , and button'd down With Jewels dropt from an imperiall Crowne . He that would Cloak it in the new Translation , Must have his Taylor cut it Pulpit-fashion . Doe not appear within the City ; there They minde not what men are , but what they weave . The habit speaks the Man . How canst thou thrive When a good Cloak 's a Representative ? The Females will not wear thee , they put on Such Cloaks as doe obscure the rising Sunne . How can'st thou hope for entertainment , when Women make Cloaks ev'n of Committee men ? Farewell good Cover-wit , upon the bryer I 'le hang thee up ; if any doe enquire Where his braines were that let his Cloak thus swing , Tell him , his wits are gone a wool-gathering . Vpon a Fart unluckily let . WEll Madam , wel , the Fart you put upon me Hath in this Kingdome almost quite un - Many a boystrous storm , & bitter gust Have I endur'd , by Sea , and more I must : done me . But of all storms by Land , to me 't is true , This is the foulest blast that ever blew . Not that it can so much impaire my credit , But that I dare pronounce , 't was I , that did it . For when I thought to please you with a song , 'T was but a straine too low that did me wrong ; Yet winged Fame will yet divulge it so , That I shall heare of 't where soe're I goe , To see my friends , I now no longer dare , Because my Fart will be before me there . Nay more , which is to me my hardest doom , I long to see you most , but dare not come ; For if by chance or hap , we meet together , You taunt me with , what winde , Sir , blew you hither ? If I deny to tell , you will not sayle , I thought your voice , Sir , would have drown'd your Tale ; Thus am I hamper'd wheresoe're you meet me , And thus , instead of better termes you greet me . I never held it such a heinous crime , A Fart was lucky held , in former time ; A Foxe of old , being destitute of food , Farted , and said , this newes must needs be good , I shall have food , I know , without delay , Mine Arse doth sing so merrily to day ; And so they say he had . But yet you see The Foxes blessing proves a curse to me . How much I wronged am , the case is cleare , As I shall plainly make it to appear . As thus , of all men let me be forsaken , If of a Fart can any hold be taken : For 't is a Blast , and we Recorded finde , King Aeolus alone commands the winde . Why should I then usurp , and undertake The Subject of a Royall Prince to make My Prisoner ? No , but as my duty bindes , Leave that command unto the King of windes . So , when I found him strugling to depart , I freely gave him leave with all my heart . Then judge you , gentle Ladyes , of my wrong , Am I not well requited for my Song ? All the revenge that I require is this , That you may Fart as oft as e're you pisse ; So may you chance , the next time that we meet , To vie the Ruffe , and I not dare to see 't . In the meane time , on knees devoutly bended , My Tongue craves pardon , if my Taile offended . A young Man courting an old Widow . DAme Hecuba , fye , be not coy , that look How it drew up your wrinkles , like a Book Of Vellam , at a fire ? glazen your eyes And view this face , these limbs , here vertue lies Restorative , will make you smooth and straight , As you were in the sixth of Henry th'eighth . Come , let us kisse , that solitary Tusk , As Garlick strong , but wholsomer then Musk , Invites me neerer yet ; the hottest fires Ne're scorch'd , as doe your ashes my desires . Time was , I 've heard my Grandfather report When those eyes drew more company to Court Then hope of Honour ; they have vertue still , And work upon my breast , for as they dril That humour down your yawning cheeks , my blood Grows dull , congeals , & thickens with your Mud. Somewhat youl 'd say now ! I perceive your gums Are labouring for 't , as when we brace our Drums , To make them sound the better : oh take heed , A little winde shivers a cracking reed . One syllable will fetch your lungs up ; stay And make but signes , I 'le guesse what you would say . Good Granam , doe but nod your tottering head , And shake your bunch of keys , you 'l raise the Why may not you and I be one ? there be In one world , severall tempers , Harmony dead . Is made up thus , and Contraries preserve That subject , where they doe each other serve . Nor are we therefore over neer akin , Because your Granchilds Niece hath marryed bin To my great Unkle ; 'T was a lovely paire , They say , who knew them then , equally faire In yeares and Fortune : this a Priest may doe , Spight of sterne Natures Laws , 'twixt me & you . He can take you as y' are , me in my prime , And tye up in one knot both ends of Time ; Mongst all your Coffers and your bags of Gold , A cunning Goldsmith ever likes the old . The new may prove as currant , and may passe From hand to hand , as fast as a young Lasse . But you 'r more grave and stay'd , come , pray consent , And blaze but one good snuff , e're you be spent . Touch-wood should take fire soonest , as it falls , Fresh joy clings fully close to aged walls . So let us joyn thus in one volume bound , A Chronicle and Corant may be found . Vpon Chesse . play . To Dr. Budden . TO thee Laws Oracle , who hadst the power To wage my pens imployment for an houre , I send no Frogs , nor Mice , Pigmees nor Cranes , Giants nor Gods , which trouble so the braines Of feigbning Poets ; nor my leisure sings The Counterbuffs of the foure painted Kings : Those worthy Combatants have had their times , And Battells sung in thousand curious rimes . I sing the fierce Alarme , and direfull stroke Of passing timbred men , all heart of Oake ; Men that scorne Armes defensive , nor , in heat Of bloudy broiles , complaine of dust or sweat . Men that doe thinke , no victory is fit That 's not compacted by the reach of wit . Men that an Ambuscado know to lay , T' entrap the Foe in his retiring way ; Plot Stratagems , and teach their braines t' indite What place is fittest to employ their might . Dull down-right blowes , are fit for rustick wits , Within the compasse of whose scalp there sits A homebred sense , weak apprehension , That strike the first they cast their eye upon ; Those are the Chaff of Soldiers , but this Corn Of choicest men , at highest rate is born . Here life is precious , where the meanest man Is guarded by the Noblest , who doe scan , ( Not what a poor man is , but ) what may prove , If bravely to the Armies head he move ; Such may his valour be , he may of right Be an Executor to Rook or Knight , Whose Lands fall to the King ( their Master dead ) With which this Pawn lives to be honoured , And doe his Prince good service . Tell me then , Thou that dost distribute Justice to men , Must Honours ever follow blood ? or should Vertue be grac'd , though in the meanest Mould ? Tell me , thou Man of Peace , are not these Wars Lawfull and commendable , where the scars Are for Command , where either Enemy Seeks to himselfe a fifth great Monarchy ? Where neither knows his confines , but each foot Is his , where he or his , can take firme root ? Pity with me , the fortunes of those Kings , Whose battell such an untaught Poet sings . Know , that great Alexander could not have An Homer ; and remember , in wars brave , Each deeds a Poem , and he writes it best Who doth engrave it on a conquered Crest . If I offend , part of the blame is thine , Thou gav'st the Theam , I did but frame the Line . Two angry Kings weary of lingring peace , Challenge the field , all Concord now must cease ; So do their stomacks with fir'd anger burn , Nothing but wounds , bloud , death , must serve the turne . They pitch'd their field in a faire chequer'd square , Each form two Squadrons , in the former are The common Soldiers , whose courageous scope Is venturing their lives , like Fortune , Hope . These stil march on , & dare not break their rank , But for to kill a Foe , then 't is their prank To make the ground good 'gainst the Enemy , Till by a greater force subdu'd , they dye . The Kings for safety , in mid battell stand , And Marshal all their Nobles on each hand . Next either King , an Amazonian Queen , Like our sixt Henryes Margaret is seen , Ready to scoure the Field , corner , or square , She succours , where the Troops distressed are . Next stand two Mytred Bishops which in War Forget their Calling , vent'ring many a scar In Princes cause , yet must no Bishop stray , But leave the broad , and keep the narrow way . Next are two ventrous Knights , whose nimble feet Leap o're mens heads , scorning to think it meet They should stand Centinells , while the poor Pawnes , With danger of their lives do scour the Lawnes . The Battells out-spread wings , two Rooks doe guard , These flanke the field so well , that there is barr'd All side assaults ; these , for their valours grace , ( The King in danger ) with him change their place . But Majesty must keep a setled pace , Rides not in post , moves to the nearest place , That 's to his Standart ; If there be report Of the Kings danger , all troops may resort . But now they sound Alarme , each heart doth swell With wrath , strikes in the name of Christabel , Strike , strike , be not agast , Soldiers are bound To fear no death , much lesse to dread a wound . Now without mercy dies the common Troop , A Rook , a Bishop , and a Knight doth droop ; Yet neither boasts of Conquest , though each hope To win the field , which now is halfe laid ope By Soldiers death ; now dares a martial Queen Check her Foe King , when streight there steps between A vent'rous Soldier , or a Noble man Who cares not for his life , so be he can From danger keep his King ; he fears not death , In Princes cause , that gives each Subject breath . But this Virago dyes , being left alone , When straight a nimble Soldier steppeth on , And through the thickest Troops hews out his way And till he come to th'head doth never stay . This brave attempt deserves the honouring ; The Queens colours are his , given by the King ▪ Who knows that valour should not want reward , And vent'rous spirits , best keep a Princes guard . Now is the War in heat , bloudy the Field , Mercy is banish'd , none hath thought to yeild , Basely to beg his breath ; the fame now ran , That they must fight it out , to the last man . All Soldiers dye , but one , who to his King , Griev'd with his great losse , doth this comfort bring , That their great Foe , whose Troops are all now dead , Must to their swords , yeild up his conquer'd head . Then with their Check , and Check on either hand , The poor disheartned King doth mated stand . Though thus to dye it be the Princes fate , Who dares pronounce he had a whisking mate ; Who , rather then mumping forgoe the Field , Joyes in the place he stands , his breath to yeild ? But now the conquering couple want their breath , Their festered wounds doe rankle , & grim death Creeps through the gashes , down the Victors fall , And then one generall Herse entombs them all . The loose Wooer . THou dost deny me , cause thou art a Wife , Know , she that 's Marryed lives a single life That loves but one ; abhor that Nuptiall curse , Ty'd thee to him , for better and for worse . Variety delights the active blood , And Women the more common , the more good , As all goods are ; there 's no Adultery , And Marriage is the worst Monopoly . The Learned Roman Clergy admits none Of theirs to Marry ; they love all , not one : And every Nun can teach you 't is as meet , To change your Bedfellow , as smock or sheet . Say , would you be content onely to eate Mutton or Beef , and tast no other meat ? It would grow to loathsom to you , and I know You have two palats , and the best below . Vpon the biting of Fleas . SUmmon up all the terrifying paines That ever were invented by the braines Of earthly Tyrants ; Then descend to Hell , And count the horrid tortures that doe dwell In the darke Dungeon , where the horrid stone Makes Sisiphus his panting entrailes groane . Where Tantalus ( in th'midst of plenty curst ) Is doom'd to famine , and eternall thirst ; Where the pale Ghosts are lash'd with whips of steel , Yet these are gentle , to the paines I feel . Vex'd with a Thousand Pigmy friends , and such As dare not stand the onset of a touch . Strange kind of Combatants , where Conquest lies In nimbly skipping from their Enemies , While they , with eager fiercenesse lay about To catch the thing they faine would be without . These sable furies bravely venture on , But when I'gin t' oppose them , whip , th' are gone . Doubtlesse I think each is a Magick Dauncer , Bred up by some infernall Necromancer , But that I doe believe , none ere scarce knew ( 'Mong all their Spirits ) such a damned crew . Some , when they would expresse the gentle sting Of a slight paine , call it a Flea-biting . But were they in my place , they soon would finde A cause sufficient for to change their minde ▪ Some , telling how they vex'd another , say I sent him with a Flea in 's eare away , Onely to shew what trouble hath possest Him , whom this little creature doth molest . It is reported , that a Mouse can daunt The courage of the mighty Elephant . Compare my bignesse , and the Fleas to theirs , And I have smaller reason for my feares , And yet I tremble when I feel them bite ; Oh how they sting my flesh ? was black-brow'd night , And the whist stilnesse of it , made by Fate , To make man happy or unfortunate ? If there be any happinesse or rest In pangs of torture , I am fully blest . All my five sences are combin'd in one , For , but my sence of feeling , I have none , And that is left me , to increase my smart ; Bloud-sucking Tyrants , will you nere depart ? Why doe you hang in Clusters on my skin ? Come one to one , and try what you can win . You Coward Aethiop Vermine ! Oh you Gods , You are unjust , to load me with such odds . If Jove-born Hercules can't deale with two , Then what can I against a Legion doe ? Their number frights me , not their strength ; I 'le dare The Lion , Panther , Tigar , or the Beare To an encounter , to be freed from these Relentlesse demy-Devills , cursed Fleas . Vpon Madam Chevereuze swimming over the Thames , 'T Was calm , and yet the Thames touch'd heaven to day , The water did find out the Milky way , When Madam Chevereuze by swimming down , Did the faire Thames the Qu● of Rivers crown . The humble Willows on the shore grew proud To see her in their shade her body shroud ; And meeting her the Swan ( wont to presume ) Bow'd to her whiter neck his sullyed Plume . Was not great Jove that Swan ? so shap'd , he came To Leda's sight ; but Gods and Courtiers shame Twice to appeare alike ; I rather dream Iove was not here , the Swan might be the stream , And took far greater pleasure to be cool'd In silver drops , then in his showre of gold . And now let Aristotle's Schollers tread Their Masters timeless footsteps to the dead , In searching out the deepest secret , which Or earth or water may be thought most rich . Venus by Proxie from the floud ascends , Bright Chevereuze the whole difference ends , Adding so great a treasure to the waves , As the whole earth seemes useless , but for graves . Water above the Earth by nature lyes , But she hath plac'd it now above the skies . The flame she took , a spirit of water drew , Fram'd opall Raine , out of extracted Dew . But her chast breast , cold as the Cloyster'd Nun , Whose Frost to Chrystal might congeal the Sun , So glaz'd the stream , that Pylots then afloat , Thought they might safely land without a Boat . Iuly had seen the Thames in Ice involv'd , Had it not been by her own beames dissolv'd : But yet she left it Cordiall , 't was no more Thaw'd to so weake a water as before , Else how could it have born all beauties fraight ? Of force it must have sunke so great a weight . Have sunk her ? where ? how vainly doe I erre ? Who know all depths are shallow unto her . She dreads not in a River to be drown'd , Who , then the Sea it selfe , is more profound . Small Vessells shake , the great Ship safely rides , And , like her Royall builder , awes the Tydes . Above their fome , or rage , we see her float , In her bright scorn , and , Madam , here 's my Vote : So may all troubled waves beneath you shrink ; So may you swim for ever , your foes sinke . Vpon Aglaura in Folio . BY this large Margent did the Poet meane To have a Comment writ upon the Scene ? Or is it that the Ladyes ( who ne●re look In any , but a Poem or Play-book ) May in each Page , have space to scribble down When such a Lord or Fashion came to town ? As Swaines in Almanacks accompt doe keep When their Cow calv'd , and when they bought their Sheep ? Ink is the life of Paper , 't is meet then That this , wch scap'd the Press , should feel the Pen . A Room with one side furnish'd , or a Face , Painted half way is but a foule disgrace . This great Voluminous Pamphlet may be said To be like one that hath more haire then head , More excrement than body ▪ Trees that sprout With broadest leaves , have still the smallest fruit . When I saw so much white , I did begin To think Aglaara either did lye in , Or else did Penance , never did I see ( Unlesse in Bills dash'd in the Chancery ) So little in so much , as if the feet Of Poetry , like Law , were sold by th'sheet . If this new fashion doe but last one year , Poets , as Clerks , would make our Paper deare . Doth not that Artist erre , and blast his fame , Who sets out pictures lesser than the frame ? Was ever Chamberlain so mad , to dare , To lodge a child in the great bed at Ware ? Aglaura would please better , did she lie In th' narrow bounds of an Epitome ; Pieces that are weaved of the finest twist , As Silk and Plush , have still more stuff than list . She that in Persian habits , made great brags , Degenerates in this excesse of rags , Who by her Gyant bulk , this onely gaines , Perchance in Libraries to hang in chains . 'T is not in Books , as Cloath ; we never say , Make London measure , when we buy a Play ; But rather have them par'd ; those leaves be fair To the judicious , which much spotted are . Give me the sociable pocket books , These empty Folio's onely please the looks . Vpon Lute-scrings Cate-aten . ARe these the strings that Poets feigne , Have clear'd the Air , & calm'd the Maine ? Charm'd Wolves , and from the Mountain crests Made Forrests dance , with all their Beasts ? Could these neglected shreds you see , Inspire a Lute of Ivorie , And make it speak ? oh then think what Hath been committed by my Cat , Who in the silence of this night , Hath gnawn these cords , and marr'd them quite , Leaving such relicts as may be For frets , not for my Lute , but me . Pusse , I will curse thee , maist thou dwell With some dry Hermit in a Cel , Where Rat ne're peep'd , where Mouse ne're fed , And Flies go supperlesse to bed : Or with some close-par'd Brother , where Thou l't fast each Sabbath in the yeare , Or else , profane , be hang'd on Monday , For butchering a Mouse on Sunday . Or maist thou tumble from some tower , And misse to light upon all foure , Taking a fall that may unty Eight of nine lives and let them fly . Or may the midnight embers sindge Thy dainty coat , or Iane beswinge Thy hyde , when she shall take thee biting Her Cheeseclouts , or her house be — What , was there ne're a Rat nor Mouse , Nor Butry ope ? nought in the house But harmlesse Lutestrings , could suffice Thy paunch , and draw thy glaring eyes ? Did not thy conscious stomach finde Nature profan'd , that kind with kind Should staunch his hunger ? think on that , Thou Caniball and Cyclops Cat . For know , thou wretch , that every string Is a cats gut , which Art doth bring Into a thread ; and now suppose Dunstan , that snuff'd the Devills nose , Should bid these strings revive , as once He did the Calfe , from naked bones ; Or I to plague thee for thy sin , Should draw a Circle , and begin To Conjure , for I am , look to 't , An Oxford Scholer , and can doe 't . Then with three sets of Mops and Mowes , Seaven of odd words , and Motley showes , A thousand tricks , that may be taken From Faustus , Lambe , or Frier-Bacon ; I should begin to call my strings My Cattlings , and my Minikins ; And they re-catted , streight should fall To mew , to purre , to Caterwawle ; From Pusses belly , sure as death , Pusse should be an Engastrumeth . Pusse should be sent for to the King , For a strange Bird or some rare thing . Pusse should be sought to farre and neer , As she some cunning woman were . Pusse should be carried up and downe , From Shire to Shire , from Town to Towne , Like to the Cammell , leane as Hag , The Elephant or Apish Nag , For a strange sight ; Pusse should be sung In Lowsie Ballads , midst the throng , At Markets , with as good a grace As Agincourt , or Chevy Chace ; The Troy ▪ sprung Britain would forgoe His Pedigree , he chanteth so , And sing that Merlin ( long deceast ) Return'd is in a nine liv'd beast . Thus Pusse thou seest , what might betide thee , But I forbear to hurt or chide thee . For 't may be Pusse was Melancholy , And so to make her blythe and Jolly , Finding these strings , shel'd have a fit Of Mirth ; nay , Pusse , if that were it ; Thus I revenge me , that as thou Hast plaid on them , I on thee now ; And as thy touch was nothing fine , So I 've but scratch'd these notes of mine . To a Lady vex'd with a Jealous Husband . WHen you sit musing , Lady , all alone Casting up all your cares with private moan , When your heart bleeds with griefe , you are no more ▪ Neer unto comfort , than you were before . You cannot mend your state with sighes or tears , Sorrow's no Balsome for distrustfull feares . Have you a Foe you hate , wish him no worse A Plague or Torment , then the Pillowes curse . Observe your Lord with ne're so strict an eye , You cannot go to piss without a spy . If but a Mouse doth stir about his bed , He starts , and sweares he is dishonoured , And when a jealous dream doth craze his pate , Straight he resolves he will be separate . Tell me , right worthy Cuckolds , if you can , What good this folly doth reflect on man ? Are women made more loyall ? hath it power To guard the Tree , that none can pluck the Flower ? Is it within the power of jealous heads , To banish lust from Court , or Country beds ? I never knew , that base and foul mistrust Made any chast , that had a mind to lust . It cannot make her honest , that by kind , To loose and wild affections is inclin'd . Debar her Lord , she , to supply his room , Will have a Horse boy , or a Stable-groom . Keep her from youth of lower rank and place , She 'l kiss his Scullion , and with Knaves embrace : Suspect her faith withall , and all mistrust , She 'l buy a Monkey to supply her lust : Lock her from Man and Beast , and all content , She 'l make thee Cuckold with an instrument : For women are like angry Mastives Chain'd , They bite at all , when they are all restrain'd . We may set locks & guards to watch their fires , But have no meanes to quench their hot desires . Man may as well , by cunning , go about , To stop the Sun in motion , as by doubt , To keep a nettled woman , if that she Strongly disposed be to Venery . How many thousand women that were Saints , Are now made sinfull by unjust restraints ? How many do commit , for very spight , That take small pleasure in that sweet delight ? Some are for malice , some for mirth unjust , Some kisse for love , and some do act for lust . But if the fates intend to make me blest , And Hymen bind me to a female breast , ( As yet , I thank my starres , I am not ty'd In servile bonds to any wanton Bride ) Let Cinthia be my Crest , and let me wear The Cuckolds badge , if I distrust , or fear . 'T is told me oft , a smooth and gentle hand Keeps women more in aw of due command , Than if we set a Ganneril on their Docks , Ride them with Bits , or on their geer set Locks . For then , like furious Colts , they 'l frisk & fling , Grow wild and mad , and will do any thing . But if we slack our reyns , to please their will , Kindnesse will keep them from committing ill . You blessed creatures , hold your female rights , Conquer by day , as you o'recome by nights , And tell the jealous world thus much from me , Bondage may make them bad , whose mindes are free . Had Collatin been jealous ( say this more ) Without a rape , Lucrece had dy'd a whore . Invitation to dalliance . BE not thou so foolish nice , As to be intreated twice ; What should Women more incite , Then their own sweet appetite ? Shall savage things more freedom have Than nature unto Women gave ? The Swan , the Turtle , and the Sparrow Bill a while , then take the marrow . They Bill , they Kisse , what else they doe Come Bill , and Kisse , and I 'le shew you . The Countrey mans Song in the Spanish Curate . LEt the Bells ring , and the Boyes sing , The young Lasses trip and play , Let the Cups goe round , till round goes the ground , Our learned Vicar wee 'le stay . Let the Pig turn merrily hey , And let the fat Goose swim , For verily , verily , hey , Our Vicar this day shall be trim . The stew'd Cock shall Crow , Cockadoodle doe , Aloud Cockadoodle shall Crow ; The Duck and the Drake that swim in the Lake Of Onions and Clarret below . Our Wives shall be neat , to bring in our meat , To thee , our Noble Adviser , Our paines shall be great , and our pottles shall sweat , And we our selves will be wiser . Wee 'l labour & swink , wee 'l kisse and wee 'l drink , And Tythes shall come thicker and thicker ; Wee 'l fall to the Plough , and get children enow , And thou shalt be learned , Oh Vicar ! Vpon the sight of an old decay'd patch'd Bed , with a Pillow having T. R. as a marke on it . Prologue , MErvail not ( Reader ) though the Sun shine bright About you , if I bid you all good night , I 'le tell how 't may properly be sed , Though you are up , yet I am going to bed . Poetaster , My slumbring Muse upon thy drowsie bed , Rest once againe thine unattired head Where , for thy great Mecenas so commands , Thy best assayes with saporiferous bands . While darknesse did thine outward senses blind , Tell me what fancies did usurp thy minde . Muse . What think you Sir , while sleep enthral'd my head , What subject could I have , except my bed ? Poetaster . A bed no subject to be written on , But lain , yea by the Muses tread upon . Muse . The pillow from the bed I think's not farre , And yet on that were written T. and R. But to be lien on , right I like it well , For why in lying , Poets bear the Bell , And to be trod upon , t is not unmeet , The Muses scand their subjects with their feet . Poetaster . The R. O muse thou there saw'st ( to be brief ) Was nothing but a Rogue , the T. a Thief : In the next verse , but two , I blush to tell , Thou first broughtst forth a Lie , & then a Bell. Take heed of Libels Muse , thy Poet feares , If thy feet stumble , he may lose his eares . To sever Theives and Poets I am loath , Because I know Mercurius was both . Muse . Within thy verses as Birds of a feather , Liars , rogues , thieves , and Muses flock together , By whom I 'm softly to my subject led , For flocks and feathers do fill up the bed . Bacchus his merry boules may humour breed , But divine raptures from the bed proceed . Let the Pot Poets in their fury try , With dipping their Malignant pens to dry The Muses fountain , my inventions streams Can nevr faile , while beds procure me dreams . If we one Science justly may admire , What shall we here where all the Seven conspire ? The letters on the pillow witnesse may That on this bed some Grammer lately lay ; In Logick also it must needs be able , For 't was a Cord would make a pretty Cable : That beds have Rhetorick we need not fear , While to his pillow each man lends his eare : Who number all the feathers in it can , Must be a good Arithmetitian . The joynts cry creek when on them any lie , As if the stocks hung by Geometry . Its musick sure is pleasant which can keep In spight of snorting eyes and eares asleep . The bed I take for deep Astronomy , Which alwaies studies to eclipse the eye . If you seek Planets , this is Vulcans gin , That Mars and Venus were so fetter'd in . Astrologie in this doth also dwell , For men by Dreames may future things foretell : To read strong lines , if any minde be bent , Herein the bed can also give content . Not sage Apollo , nor the sacred Nine Can then this Bed-cord shew a stronger line . Methinkes l 'me very sleepy still , and loath To rise , but that I 've on me ne're a cloath . 'T was T. and R. as sure 's I live , 't was they That stole the Coverlet and Sheets away . Out ! a Roap choak you both , y' are arrant knaves , I 'de knock you soundly , had I but Bed-staves . Epilogue . IF ought obscure you in my Verses , marke , Poets use not their Beds but in the darke . If false or foolish any thing you deem , Sith't came from Bed , account it for a Dream . If in my Verses boldly any catches , The Bed , my subject , was as full of patches : The blurs and blots I make , let none disdaine , The Bed in one place had an ugly staine . If my unpollish't lines being dull and dry , Doe make you heavy , I will tell you why . Some sudjects make men laugh , some make them weep But the Bed-post is to bring all asleep . A Letter to Sir John Mennis , when the Parliament denied the King Money to pay the Army , unlesse a Priest , whom the King had reprieved , might be executed . Sir John at that time wanting the Money for provisions for his troop , desired me by his Letter to goe to the Priest , and to perswade him to dye for the good of the Army ; saying , What is 't for him to hang an houre , To give an Army strength and power ? The Reply . BY my last Letter Iohn thou see'st What I have done to soften Priest ; Yet could not with all I could say , Perswade him hang to get thee pay . Thou Swad , quoth he , I plainly see , The Army wants no food by thee , Fast oftner , friend , or if you 'l eate Use Oaten straw , or straw of Wheat ; They 'l serve to moderate thy jelly , And ( which it needs ) take up thy belly . As one that in a Taverne breaks A Glasse , steales by the Barre , and sneaks : At this rebuke , with no lesse haste , I Trudg'd from the Priest , and Prison nasty : The truth is , he gave little credit To'th' Armies wants , because I said it . And , if you 'l presse it further , Iohn , 'T is fit you send a leaner man . For thou with ease can'st friends expose For thy behoof to fortunes blows . Suppose we being found together Had pass'd for Birds of the same feather ? I had perchance been shrewdly shent , And maul'd too , by the Parliament . Have you beheld th'unlucky Ape For roasted Chesnuts mump and gape , And off'ring at them with his pawes , But loath he is to scorch his clawes ; When viewing on the Hearth asleep A Puppy , gives him cause to weep : To spare his owne , he takes his help , And rakes out Nuts with foot of whelp . Which done , ( as if 't were all but play ) Your Name-sake looks another way . The Cur awakes , and findes his thumbs In paine , but knows not whence it comes , He takes it first to be some Cramp , And now he spreads , now licks his vamp ; Both are in vaine , no ease appeares , What should he doe ? he shakes his eares , And hobling on three legs he goes , Whining away with aking toes . Not in much better case perhaps , I might have been to serve thy chaps , And have beshrew'd my fingers end , For groping so in cause of friend ; While thou wouldst munch like horse in Manger , And reach at Nuts with others danger : Yet have I ventur'd farre to serve My friend that sayes he 's like to sterve . The Fart censured in the Parliament House . PUffing down coms grave antient Sir Io. Crook , And reads his message promptly without book . Very well , quoth Sir William Morris , so ; But Harry Ludlows foysting Arse cry'd no . Then starts up one fuller of devotion Then eloquence , and sayes , An ill motion . Nay , by my Faith , quoth Sir Henry Ienkin , The motion were good , wer 't not for stinking . Quoth Sir Henry Pool , 'T is an audacious trick , To Fart in the Face of the body Politick . Now without doubt , quoth Sir Edward Grevil , I must confesse , it was very uncivill . Thank God , quoth Sir Edward Hungerford , That this Fart prov'd not a Turd . Indeed , quoth Sir Iohn Trevor , it gave a foule knock , As it launch'd forth from his stinking Dock . I , quoth another it once so chanced , That a great Man Farted , as he daunced . Quoth Sir Richard Haughton , no Justice of Quorum , But would take it in snuffe , t' have a fart let before'um . Such a fart as this ne're before was seen , Quoth the most learned Councel of the Queen . Quoth Mr. Daniel , this young man 's too bold , This priviledge belongs to us that are old . Then wo the time , quoth Sir Laurence Hyde , That these our priviledges are deny'd . Quoth Mr. Recorder a word for the City , To cut off the Aldermans right , were great pity . Well , quoth Kit Brook , wee 'l give you a reason , Though he had right by descent , he had not livery and seisin . Yet , quoth M. Peak , I have a president in store , His father farted last Sessions before . Then said Mr. Noy , this may very well be done , A fart may be entail'd from the father to the son . Saith Mr. Moore , let us this motion repeale , What 's good for the private , is ill for the Common weal . A goodyear on this Fart , quoth gentle Sir Harry . He hath caus'd such an Earth-quake , that my Coal-pits miscarry . It is hard to recall a Fart when t is out , Quoth Sir William Lower with a loud shout . Yes , quoth Sir Laurence Hide , that we may come by it , Wee 'l make a proviso , time it and tye it . Qd. Sir Harry the hardy , look well to each clause , Aswell for Englands Liberty as Lawes . Now then the knightly Doctor protests , This Fart shall be brought into th'Court of Requests . Nay rather , sayes Sir Edwin , I 'le make a digression , And fart him a project , shall last him a Session . Then Sir Edward Hoby alleadg'd with the spigot , If you fart at the Union , remember Kit Pigot . Swooks quoth Sir Iohn Lee , is your Arse in dotage ? Could you not have kept this breath to cool your pottage ? Grave Senat quoth Mr. Duncomb , upon my salvation This Fart had need of great Reformation . Quoth the Countrey Courtier upon my Conscience , It might have been reformed with Frankinsence . We must have this Fart by Parliament enacted , Said another , before this businesse be transacted . And so we shall have ( oh do not abhor it ! ) A Fart from Scotland reciprocall for it . A very good jest it is by this light . Quoth spruce Mr. Iames of the Isle of Wight . Quoth Sir Robert Iohnson , if you 'l not laugh I 'le measure this Fart with my Iacobs staffe . Now by my troth , quoth sage Mr. Bennet , We must have a selected Committee to pen it . Philip Gawdy stroak'd the old stubble of his face , Said , the Fart was well penn'd , so sat downe in his place . Then modest Sir Iohn Hollis said , on his word , It was but a Shoo that creak'd on a board . Not so , quoth Sir Iohn Ackland , that cannot be , The place underneath is matted you see . Before God , said Mr. Brooke , to tell you no lye , This Fart , by our Law , is of the Post-nati . Fye , quoth M. Fotherby , I like not this Embassage , A Fart Interlocutory in the midst of a Message . In all your Eloquence then , quoth Mr. Martin , You cannot finde out this figure of Farting . Nay , quoth Dr. Crompton , can any man draw This Fart within compasse of the Civill Law ? Then Sir William Pady , I dare assure'm , Though 't be Contra modestiam , 't is not Contra naturam . Up starts Ned Weymark the Pasquil of Powls , And said , this Fart would have fitted the Master of the Rolls . Said Oxenbridge , there is great suspition , That this Fart savours of Popish Superstition . Nay , said Mr. Good , and also some other , This Fart came from som reformed Brother . Then up start Sir Iohn Yong , and swore by Gods nailes , Was nere such a Fart let in the Borders of Wales . Sir Walter Cope said , this Fart as 't was let , Might well have broke ope his privy Cabinet . Sir Ierome in Folio , swore by the Masse , This Fart was enough to have broke all the Glasse . And Sir Ierome the lesse said , such an abuse , Was never committed in Poland or Pruce . In compasse of a thousand miles about , Sir Roger Owen said , such a Fart came not out . Quoth Sir Iohn Parker , I sweare by my Rapier , This Bombard was stuff●d with very foul Paper . Now quoth Mr. Lewknor , we have found such a thing As no Tale-bearer dares carry to the King . Quoth Sir Lewis his Brother , if it come of Embassage , The Master of the Ceremonies must give it passage . I , quoth Sir Robert Drury , that were your part , If so it had been a forrein Fart . Nay , said Sir Richard Love lace , to end the difference , It were fit with the Lords to have a conference . Hark , quoth Sir Iohn Townsend , this Fart had the might , To deny his owne Master to be dubbed Knight , For had it ambition , or orationis pars , Your Son could have told him , quid est Ars. Quoth Sir Thomas Lake , if this house be not able To censure this Fart , I 'le have it to the Councel Table . It were no great grievance , qd , M. Hare , If the Surveyour herein had his share . Be patient Gentlemen , quoth Sir Francis Bacon , There 's none of us all but may be thus mistaken . Silence , quoth Bond , though words be but wind , Yet I doe mislike these Motions behinde . Then , quoth Mr. Price , it stinks the more you stir it , Naturam expellas furca , recurrit . Then gan sage Mounson silence to break , And said , this Fart would make an Image speak . Up rises the Speaker , that noble Ephestion , And sayes , Gentlemen , I 'le put you a question : The question propounded the eares did lose , For the Major part went there with the nose . Sir Robert Cotton , well read in old stories , ( Having conferred his notes with Mr. Pories , I can well witnesse that these are no fables ) Said , 't was hard to put the Fart in his Tables . If 't would bear an Action , saith Sir Tho : Holcrost , I 'ld make of this Fart a Bolt or a shaft . Quoth Sir Roger Ashton , 't would mend well the matter , If 't were shay'd and well wash'd in rose water : Why , quoth Sir Roger Acton , how should I tell it , A Fart by hearsay , & neither hear it nor smell it ? Quoth Sir Thomas Knevet , I fear here doth lurk In this Hallow Vault , some more powder work . Then precisely rose Sir Anthony Cope , And pray'd to God , 't were no Bull from the Pope . Quoth Sir Tho : Chaloner , I 'le demonstrat this fart To b'a voice of the Belly , and not of the heart . Then by my Faith saith Sir Edwin Sandyes , He playes not by th'line , this Gentleman bandies . Then said Sir George More , in his wonted order , I mean but to speak against the houses disorder . The Fart which we favour far more then is fit , I wish to the Sergeant you would commit . The Sergeant refus'd it , humbly on 's knees , For Farts break Prison , and never pay Fees ; Wherefore this motion without reason stands To charg me with what I can't hold in my hands . Then quoth the Clerk , I now plainly see That a private Act is some gaine for me . All which was admitted by Sir Thomas Freak , This Gentleman saith , his Shoo did but creak . Then said Sir Richard Gargrave by and by , This Gentleman speaketh as well as I. But all at last said , it was most fit , The Fart as a Traitor , to the Tower to commit : Where as they say , it remaines to this houre , Yet not close prisoner , but at large in the Tower . Partus Chaucheri Posthumus Gulielmi Nelson . LIsten you Lordlings to a noble game , Which I shall tell you , by thilk Lord S. Iame , Of a lewd Clerk , and of his haviour bold , He was , I trow , some threescore winters old . Of Cambridge was this Clerk , not Oxenford , Well known at Stilton , Stewkey , and Stamford . He haunted fenny Staunton , and Saint Ives , And fair could gloze among the Country Wives . A lusty Runnyon ware he in his hose , Lowd could he speak , and crackle in the Nose . For Schollarship him car'd him light or nought , To serve his turn , he English Postills bought . He us'd no colour , nor no Rhetorick , But yet he couth some termes of art Logick , He was full rude and hot in disputation , And wondrous frequent in his predication . Full gravely couth he spit , fore he gan speak , And in his mouth some Sugar-Candy break , But yet his preaching was to small effect , Though lowd he roar'd , inth Northern Dialect . He ware a Cassock deep , but of small cost , His state was spent in Nutmeg , Ale and Toast . A gauld back'd spittle Jade for travelling He kept in summer , but the wintering Too costly was , rode he early or later , Nought was his provender but grass and water , Well liquor'd were his Boots , & wondrous wide , Ne Sword , ne Rapyer ware he by his side , A long vast Cloak-bag was his Caryage Ther nis the like from Hull unto Carthage . But , sooth to say , he was for ay formall , And ware a thred bare Cloak Canonicall . He had a Deanship and a Parsonage , Yet was in debt and danger all his age , His greater summe he payes by borrowing , And lesser scores , by often punishing . If that a Problem , or a common place Comes to his share , he is in jolly case ; Then to a Nape of Ling he would invite Some Rascall Tapster , hardly worth a Mite . Well was he known in every Village Town , The good Wives clep'd him Gossip up & down ; Oft was he Maudlin drunk , then would he weep , Not for his sinnes , of them he took small keep : It was the humour fell down from his eyn , Distill'd from Ale , he drank but little wine ; And being asked why those teares did fall , Soothly he preached at a Funerall . And when with drinking he was some deal mellow , His Motto was , Faith Lad , I's halfe good fellow . Thus preach'd he often on an Ale-house Bench , And , when the Spirit mov'd , cough'd for his Wench , And Bastards got , which , if God send them grace , They may succeed him in his Seniors place . He was an idle Senior for the nonce , Foul may befall his body , and his bones . Vpon the same . TWice twenty Sermons , & twice five , I ween , ( And yet not one of them in print is seen ) He preach'd , God and St. Mary's witnesseth , Where loud he roar'd , yet had but little pith . Imitatio Chauceri altera , In eundem . LEave , Ieffrey Chaucer , to describen a Man In thine old phrason , so well as I can . ●ken no glozing , for my wit is rude , Nath'lesse I 'le limb out his similitude . Fierce was his look , 't was danger him to meet , He passed like a Tempest through the street . Narrow his eyn , his Nose was Chamised , Sawfleum his Face , forked his Beard and head . Pardie I wot not what men doe him call , Dan Thomas . ne Dan Richard , n'of what Hall He is , 〈◊〉 Colledge ; but , by th'holy Mattin , He was a frequent guest at Iohn Port Lattin ; And eke at all other dayes festivall , He had a liquorous tooth over all ; Ne was there any Wight in all this Town , That tasted better a Pasty of Venisoun , Ybaked with Gravy Gods plenty , It relished better then Austin's works or Gregory , Yet politick he was , and worldly wise , And purchac'd hath , a double Benefice . Small was his Wage , and little was his hire , He let his sheep accumber in the mire ; And solac'd at St. Iohns , or at St. Pauls , That was a Sanctuary for his Soules . Sir Iohn of them , must alwaies taken keep , A shitten Sheepherd cannot make clean sheep . Ne God Mercurius , ne Melpomene , E're look'd upon him at 's Nativity : Or if they look'd , they looked all ascaunce , So was he made a Priest by foule mischance . Pardie he was of the worst clay y'maked , That e're Dame Nature in her Furnace baked . For in his youth he was a Serving-man , And busily on his Masters errand ran ; And fairely fore a Cloak-bag couth he ride , Algates a rusty whinyard by his side ; And he that whilom could not change a groat , Hath changed , for a Cassock , his blew Coat . One cannot see the Body , nor the Bulke , That whilom did attend on aged Fulk ; A larger Gown hath all y'covered , And a square Cap doth pent-house his swynes head . Yet notes he got , when his Master disputed , And when the learned Papists he confuted . The Borel men sayn , he preach well ynough , But others known , that he stoln all his stuffe . Lustfull he was , at Forty needs must wed , Old Ianuary will have May in Bed , And live in glee , for , as wise men have sayn , Old Fish , and young Flesh , would I have fayn , And thus he swinketh ; but , to end my story , Men sayn , he needs no other Purgatory . The Nightingale . MY Limbs were weary , and my head opprest With drowsiness , and yet I could not rest . My Bed was such , as Down nor Feather can Swan ; Make one more soft , though Iove againe turn No fear-distracted thoughts , my slumbers broke , I heard no Screech Owl shreek , nor Raven croak ; Sleep's foe , the Flea , that proud insulting Elfe , Is now at truce , and is asleep it selfe . But 't was nights darling , and the worlds chief Jewell , The Nightingale , that was so sweetly cruell . It woo'd my eares to rob my eyes of sleep , That whilst she sung of Tereus , they might weep ; And yet rejoyce the Tyrant did her wrong , Her cause of woe , was burthen of her song . Which while I listened to , and strove to heare , 'T was such , I could have wish'd my selfe all eare . 'T is false that Poets feign of Orpheus , he Could neither move a beast , a stone , or tree To follow him , but wheresoe're she flyes , The Grovy Satyr , and the Faery hyes Afore her Perch , to dance their Roundelayes , For she sings Distichs to them , while Pan playes . Yet she sung better now , as if in me She meant with sleep to try the Mastery . But while she chaunted thus , the Cock for spight , Dayes hoarcer Herald , chid away the night , Thus rob'd of sleep , my eye-lids nightly guest , Methought I lay content , though not at rest . Epitaph on Mistrisse Mary Prideaux . HAppy Grave thou dost enshrine That which makes thee a rich Myne , Yet remember , 't is but loane , And we look for back our owne . The very same , marke me , the same , Thou shalt not cheat us with a Lame Deformed Carcasse , this was faire , Fresh as morning , soft as Ayre ; Purer then other flesh as farre As other Soules their bodies are : And that thou maist the better see To finde her out , two starres there be Eclipsed now ; uncloud but those , And they will point thee to the Rose That dy'd each Cheek , now pale and wan , But will be , when she wakes againe Fresher then ever ; and how ere Her long sleep may alter her , Her Soul will know her Body streight , 'T was made so fit for 't , no deceipt Can suit another to it , none Cloath it so neatly as its owne . Vpon drinking in the Crown of a Hat . WEll fare those three , that when there was a Dearth Of Cups to drink in , yet could finde out mirth , And spight of Fortune , make their want their store , And nought to drinke in , caused drinking more . No brittle glasse we used , nor did we thinke 'T would help the taste , t' have windows to our drinke . We scorn'd base Clay , wth tortur'd in the wheel , Martyr'd at last , the force of fire doth feel . Both these doe faile , we drinke not morally , In such like Emblems of mortality . The Cups that Brewers use , and long use may , But us'd by women the contrary way , Polluted not our Pallats ; nor the horn , Due to the forehead , by our lips was worne . We did abhor these hell-bred , bloud bought Mettals , Silver and gold ; nor should that which makes Kettles Serve us for cups ; nor that which is the Newter Betwixt these five , and is yeleped Pewter ; But t was as rare a thing , as often tryed , As best of these , though seven times purifyed A seven times scoured Felt , but turned never , And pity t is , I cannot call it Bever . The circumlated Crown , somewhat deprest , And by degrees , toward the one side thrust , That to our lips it might the better stoop , Varyed a little th'figure of a Hoop ; From a just Circle drawing out an Angle , And that we might not for our measure wrangle , The Butlers self , whose Hat it was and Band , Fill'd each his measure with an even hand . Thus did we round it , and did never shrink , Till we that wanted Cups , now wanted drink . An Epitaph upon Doctor Prideaux's Son . HEre lyes his Parents hopes and fears , Once all their joyes , now all their tears , He 's now past sence , past fear of paine , 'T were sin to wish him here againe . Had it liv'd to have been a Man , This Inch had grown but to a span ; And now he takes up the lesse room , Rock'd from his Cradle to his Tomb . 'T is better dye a child , at four , Then live and dye so at fourscore . View but the way by which we come , Thou 'lt say , he 's best , that 's first at home . On his Mistrisse having the Green-sicknesse . WHite Innocence , that now lyes spread Forsaken on thy widdow'd Bed , Cold and alone ; for fear , love , hate , Or shame , recall thy crimson mate From his dark Mazes , to reside With thee , his chast and Maiden-bride : And left he backward thence should flow , Congeale him in thy Virgin-snow . But if his owne heat , with thy paire Of Neighbouring Suns , and flaming haire , Thaw him into a new Divorce , Lest to the heart he take his course : O lodge me there where I 'le defeat A future hope of his retreat ; And force the fugitive to seek A constant station in thy cheek . So each shall have his proper place , I in your heart , he in your face . Vpon the naked Bedlams , and spotted Beasts , we see in Covent Garden . WHen Besse ! she ne're was halfe so vainly clad , Besse ne're was halfe so naked , halfe so mad . Again , this raves with Lust , for Love Besse ranted , Then Besses skin was tan'd , but this is painted , : No , this is Madam Spots , 't is she , I know her , Her face is powdred Ermin , I 'le speak to her ; How does your most enammel'd Ladyship ? Nay pardon me , I dare not touch your Lip . What kisse a Leopard ▪ he that Lips will close , With such a Beast as you , may lose his Nose . Why in such hast ? before we part 't is meet . You should doe penance Madam in a Sheet : 'T is time when Schism and Error so lowd cries . To punish such notorious Sectaries . I publickly appeare halfe Adamite , In private practice you are one outright . But Dapl'd Ladyes , if you needs must show Your nakednesse , yet pray why spotted so ? Has beauty think you lustre from these spots ? Is Paper fairer when 't is stain'd with blots ? What have you cut your Mask out into sippets , Like wanton Girles , to make you Spots and Tippets ; As I have seen a Cook , that over-neat , To garnish out a dish hath spoil'd good meat ? Pride is a Plague , why sure these are the soares , I will write ( Lord have mercy ) on your doors , Devills are black who doubt it , but some write That there are likewise Devills that are white : Well , I have found a third sort that are neither , They are Py'de Devils , black and white together . Come , tell me tru , for what these Spots are set , Are they Decoyes to draw fools to your net ? Are they like Ribons in the Mane and Tayle , Of an old wincing Mare that 's set to sale ? You that use publick trade must hang out Signes , Bushes you think will vent your naughty Wines . I 'le tell you ( Ladyes ) never give me trust , If these baites move not more to scorn then Lust . Perhaps they may a stomach tempt , that loves A Gammon of Bacon that 's stuft with Cloves ; Or White-broath with Pruines , but never hope , That Love or Lust , to this patch't Lure should stoop , Unlesse of such rude Ruffins , as nere blush , To enter wherefoe're they see a bush . Whose Breeches and whose Shirts make plain report , That they as ready are as you for sport . Take my advice to be secure from jeers , Wash off your stinking Spots with bitter teares . O you sweet Rurall beauties who were never Infected with this ugly spotted Feaver . Whose face is smoother then the Ivory plaine , Need neither spots from France , nor paint from Spaine . Whose snowie Mountaines never saw the light , And yet the Sun never saw Snow so white ; Whose dresse the Emblem is of Modesty , Whose looks secure you from attempts ; whose Eye Has made Iobs Vow , and kept it , and whose whose Behaviour chast is , as your Virgin-soule : Which to adorn , take up your choicest thoughts , Not to get Pendants , Paintings , Ribonds , Spots : Trust me ( sweet Ladies ) I that never thought To love againe , do now extreamly dote ; Men that have Wit , Religion or Estates , Will be ambitious to make you their Mates ; Whilst all those naked Bedlams , painted Babies , Spottified Faces , and Frenchified Ladies , With all their proud phantasticall disguises , Will prove at last , but fooles and beggars prizes . Dear Coz : the want of thy sweet company , Puts me upon this idle Poetry : May you returne with Olive in your hand , Bring thy deare selfe to me , peace to the Land . To Sir John Mennis , on a rich prize which he took on the Seas . WAlking last Friday morning in my Garden , Where stands a house that I have grunted hard in : And finding there sweet William by my Bower , It made me thinke of Iohn for halfe an houre . Thou art ( I heare ) where thou dost play Carnoggin Thou broughtest from Wales , 'gainst flute of Hogan Mogan . And where thou richly dost abound in Ghelt , And ropes of Pearl now strip't off from thy Belt ; But now laid up in safety on the shelfe , Pearl that 's more orient , then the East it self ; A Bag of Diamonds too : and I Divine , That long ere this , all the Hauns Townes are thine ; After thine own thou needst not call these Lands , For they are ready Christned to thy hands , Whiles thus in thy Seraglio thou dost bristle , Poore Lady at New-castle may go whistle , Or gnaw the sheets for anguish , no Iohn comes , He weares out all he hath in forraine bums , Hee 's not at all concern'd in us ( poor fouls ) His friends may hang and who 's will carry coles . Nay never tosse your nose ; I knew thee man When thou wer 't little better then poor Iohn : The worlds well mended since the warre began , Thou'rt now become the great Leviathan : And as that monster when he hath got a prize Now eats , then farts out Pilchards as he lies . So thou devour'st at Sea , making no bones Of smaller vessells , and their precious Stones . We have no booties brought us in from Sea , To furnish us for rates or monthly pay . No Jewels , nor rich prizes , no such matter , When Troopers come , we run & pawn a Platter , That we can spare , for we have little meat , If this world hold , we shall forget to eate . We shall be free-born people then ( Oh Hector ) When we have nothing left but a — Hard-hearted Knight , how canst thou heare this tale And not bepisse thy self with grief or Ale ? Hast thou no moisture , no relenting left ? Wilt thou sit alwayes brooding ore thy theft , And part with never a penny to the Muses , Nor to thy friends , nor yet to pious uses ? Wee 'le draw thy picture ( Churle ) and thy shape both Standing like Dives in the painted cloth . One that nere thought upon his friends till then , When he was in the Devills frying pan . Then when it is too late thou wilt confesse , Thou hast more sinn'd in Friendship then I. S. A Defiance to K. A. and his round Table . Incipit J. A. AS it befell on a Penticost day , King Arthur at Camelot , kept his Court royall With his faire Queen dame Guinever the gay , And many Princes and Lords in Hall . Heralds with Hukes , hearing full hie Cryed largesse , largesse , Chevaliers tres hardy . A doubty Dwarfe to the uppermost Deske , Boldly gan wick kneeling on knee ; Cry'd , King Arthur God thee save and see . Sir Rhines of Northgales greeteth well thee , And bids that thy Beard anon thou him send , Or else from thy jawes he will it off rend . For his Roabe of State is a rich Scarlet Mantle , With eleven Kings Beards bordered about , And there is room left in a Cantell , For thine to make it out . This must be done be thou never so stout , This must be done , I tell thee no Fable , Maugre the teeth of all thy round Table . When this doubty dwarfe his dismall message had said , The King fun'd , Queen screek'd , Ladyes were agast , Princes puff'd , Barons bluster'd , Lords began to lowre , Knights and Squires storm'd , like Steeds in a flowre Yeomen and Pages yelld out in hall , With that came in Sir Guy the Seneschall . Silence my Soveraigne , quoth this Courtious Knight , And therewithall the stowre began to still . The Dwarfes dinner was full dearly deight , Of Wine and Wassell he had his will . And when he had eaten and drunken his fill , A hundred pieces of fine Coined Gold , Was given the Dwarfe for his Message so bold . But say to Sir Rhines thou Dwarfe quoth the King , That for his bold Message , I him defie , For shortly I meane with Basons him to ring Out of Northgales where he and I With Swords , and no Razors shall quickly try , Which of us two is the best Barber . And then withall he shook his good Sword . Excutitur Sic Explicit , I. A. FINIS . Notes, typically marginal, from the original text Notes for div A89049e-260 * Hen the Great , by ●●vllias . 
A43692	----	Grammatical drollery consisting of poems & songs wherein the rules of the nouns & verbs in the accendence are pleasantly made easy, for the benefit of any that delight in a tract of this nature / by W. Hickes. Hickes, William, fl. 1671. 1682 Approx. 173 KB of XML-encoded text transcribed from 63 1-bit group-IV TIFF page images. Text Creation Partnership, Ann Arbor, MI ; Oxford (UK) : 2009-10 (EEBO-TCP Phase 1). A43692 Wing H1887 ESTC R34461 14445002 ocm 14445002 102357 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. A43692) Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 102357) Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books, 1641-1700 ; 1060:14) Grammatical drollery consisting of poems & songs wherein the rules of the nouns & verbs in the accendence are pleasantly made easy, for the benefit of any that delight in a tract of this nature / by W. Hickes. Hickes, William, fl. 1671. [2], 117 p. Printed for Tho. Fox ..., London : 1682. In verse. Reproduction of original in the Bodleian Library. Created by converting TCP files to TEI P5 using tcp2tei.xsl, TEI @ Oxford. Re-processed by University of Nebraska-Lincoln and Northwestern, with changes to facilitate morpho-syntactic tagging. Gap elements of known extent have been transformed into placeholder characters or elements to simplify the filling in of gaps by user contributors. EEBO-TCP is a partnership between the Universities of Michigan and Oxford and the publisher ProQuest to create accurately transcribed and encoded texts based on the image sets published by ProQuest via their Early English Books Online (EEBO) database (http://eebo.chadwyck.com). The general aim of EEBO-TCP is to encode one copy (usually the first edition) of every monographic English-language title published between 1473 and 1700 available in EEBO. EEBO-TCP aimed to produce large quantities of textual data within the usual project restraints of time and funding, and therefore chose to create diplomatic transcriptions (as opposed to critical editions) with light-touch, mainly structural encoding based on the Text Encoding Initiative (http://www.tei-c.org). The EEBO-TCP project was divided into two phases. The 25,363 texts created during Phase 1 of the project have been released into the public domain as of 1 January 2015. 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Quality assurance was then carried out by editorial teams in Oxford and Michigan. 5% (or 5 pages, whichever is the greater) of each text was proofread for accuracy and those which did not meet QA standards were returned to the keyers to be redone. After proofreading, the encoding was enhanced and/or corrected and characters marked as illegible were corrected where possible up to a limit of 100 instances per text. Any remaining illegibles were encoded as <gap>s. Understanding these processes should make clear that, while the overall quality of TCP data is very good, some errors will remain and some readable characters will be marked as illegible. Users should bear in mind that in all likelihood such instances will never have been looked at by a TCP editor. The texts were encoded and linked to page images in accordance with level 4 of the TEI in Libraries guidelines. Copies of the texts have been issued variously as SGML (TCP schema; ASCII text with mnemonic sdata character entities); displayable XML (TCP schema; characters represented either as UTF-8 Unicode or text strings within braces); or lossless XML (TEI P5, characters represented either as UTF-8 Unicode or TEI g elements). Keying and markup guidelines are available at the Text Creation Partnership web site . eng English language -- Grammar -- Early works to 1800. Humorous poetry, English -- Early works to 1800. 2008-10 TCP Assigned for keying and markup 2008-12 SPi Global Keyed and coded from ProQuest page images 2009-01 John Pas Sampled and proofread 2009-01 John Pas Text and markup reviewed and edited 2009-02 pfs Batch review (QC) and XML conversion GRAMMATICAL Drollery , Consisting of POEMS & SONGS . Wherein the RULES of the NOVNS & VERBS IN THE ACCEDENCE Are pleasantly made Easie , FOR THE Benefit of any that delight in a Tract of this Nature . By W. H. ickes LONDON : Printed for Tho. Fox , and are to be sold at the 〈◊〉 and at the Star in Westminster-hall . 1682 GRAMMATICAL Drollery . The Adverbs Quarrel . THe Adverbs had a Quarrel , as they say : Says ubi , Where ? in what place , I pray ? Says ibi , There ; and in that very place Where u and i by u receiv'd disgrace . Then Mr. hic did plainly say , 't was here : Yes , yes , says istic , in that very place ; 't was there . One askt whe'r 't was within doors or without : Says intus , 'T was within doors , without doubt . No , no , says foris , I 'm certain 't was abroad , Where some o' th' Adverbs were severely claw'd . Then one did ask 'em , when began the Fray : My troth , says honest hodie , 't was to day . Says cras , I fear 't will last to morrow too , There are such adverse Adverbs in the Crew . Alas , says perindi● , ( without laughter ) I fear 't will last until the day after . Says heri , Yesterday I heard something on 't . Say olim , In times past 't was their wont . Says aliquando , Sometimes now and then Such Jars happen ' mongst such kind of men . And 't was of late so , says nuper then , And may , says mox be by and by agen . Says statim , Presently , for ought I know . Says cito , Quickly let 's prepare to go . Repente cries , We suddenly must depart ; And subito therein did take his part . Ocyus said , We quick must hast away : Yes , says jam and modo , just now we say . But alias for another time did plead . Says forsan , Perhaps you 'll repent the deed . Says lente , Hast makes wast , go slowly on ; We 've a weighty matter to think upon . Says quamdiu then , How long shall we stay ? Diu says , A long while , make no hast away . Quotidie , day by day , ill News doth hear . I 'll stay , says donec , till the coast be clear . Vnde askt from whence comes all this prate ? From hence , says hinc ; we 're all unfortunate . Illinc said , From thence , istinc , from that place Where you and I a Mistriss had in chace . Whither shall we flie , says quo ? Hither , says huc . Illuc says , Thither , or you 'll have ill luck . Yes , says istuc , to that place . Says alio , To another , or I shall fail you , ho. This Jarring then did breed such a puther , Aliquo bids go to some place or other . Which way , says qua ? let us well advise . Says illac , That way take , or y' are not wise . Faith , says quacunque , which way soere you go , You 'll be beset on all sides with the Foe . How to behave my self , says qualiter , I know not ; but am resolv'd to rail at her Has been the cause on 't . Says poor primum , First I 'll to th' trees , and then I 'll climb 'um To be out of danger , I 'm so perplext . Says Inde , Then be sure I 'll be the next To follow ye . After , says deinde , I 'll follow too , knew I where to find ye . Lastly , says denique , Let 's go together , In regard we 're all Birds of a Feather . And then came in a very scurvy cur , Askt 'em why they then made such a stir ? Then all did call him cur , which made him cry , And why cur , says he ? because cur is why . Says quare , Wherefore do ye jar ? I fear you 'll hear ( alas ) too much of War. Quorsum then did ask 'em to what end They quarrelled , and whither did it tend ? Says heus , Heark ye : so said ehodum too , What 's the cause ye make so much ado ? Truly , says profecto , y' are all to blame . Indeed , says sane , I do say the same . Says minime , You must in no wise jar Nequaquam , by no means , lest't prove a War. I would to God , says utinam , you were As good friends as when ye came here . Sodes and amabo , of all loves did entreat ; And eia said , Go to , unless you 'll all be beat . Says age , Well , una together with me , Will try if we can make 'em all agree . Now 's the time , says nunc , or else never ; Not onely now , says non modo , but ever . 'T is always good , says semper , to be quiet , Else you 'll surely get but little by it . Seorsim doth advise to go apart One after another , lest they all do smart . Yes , says imo : and potius said , he had rather Go one by one , than go altogether . Poor fere said , he almost fear'd to go ; And hand was scarcely brought unto it too . Then ecce he came in , and 's Brother en , Saying ( behold ) here 's none but jangling men . Perhaps , says forte , and fortuito , You may repent it , yea , and rue it too . So also said their Brother , good fortassis , And call'd 'em all a Crew of drunken Asses . Veluti and sicut said , They act as 't were Like mad men as they go every where . And sic likewise did say the very same , And so fell sick , to see all out of frame . One askt how sic did : was told , So , so . That 's sic : sic , says he ? then he 's ill I know . Quasi said , Although they were to blame , Something might be done their Brains to tame . Says quomodo , But how can it be done ? Says bene , Well , let each take a Gun And force 'em to 't . Recte said , 't was rightly spoke : Optime said , 't was best way not provoke . Fortiter then strongly spoke , saying , Let us Quickly prevent 'em , lest they beset us . This made fortius more valiant to declare ; And fortissime most valiant to prepare ' Gainst any assault that might attack 'em : Which made the major part begin to back ' um . And docte being learn'd , then began To give the Character of every man. But male then being of an evil mind , Did joyn with pessime , the worst inclin'd To peace of any : Which sicut hearing , Said , 't was like as a War appearing . And so said ceu , As sicut , so say I : So says tanquam , velut , and all that fry . Says multum , nay , it much doth grieve me ; And plurimum , very much believe me . But parum little cared for what they said ; And minimum the least of all in dread . And magis more than all the rest let fly Likewise at tam , but maxime especially . Paululum a little while did weep To see his Brethren laid by War to sleep . Minus was less griev'd than all the rest , Which prope that was nigh , could not digest . Valde greatly did bemoan their fate , And told 'em , they 'd be all unfortunate . Nimium said , they were too much inclin'd To mischief , and bid 'em change their mind . Propius and proxime came near'st of all To make an end of this inhumane Brawl . And admodum did very much desire To put an end to this Intestine Fire . Then satis came , and cry'd , Enough , enough , We may ere long have cause to make proof Of your undaunted Courages : till then Let 's all shake hands , and be friends agen . Then num and nunquid , both together Came to 'em , and did ask 'em whether They resolv'd to agree : belissime Most fairly spoke , said , Yes , come kiss ye me , I 'll begin : I 'll second you then , says tunc , And for this , to night I 'll make ye drunk , And declare , though you were lately Madverbs , Y' are now become agen sober Adverbs . And affatim abundantly did spend To make 'em quiet : They all call'd him friend While there : but being gone , said affatim Was a kind fool , and did laugh at him . Which vix could scarce put up , being his friend ; But at the last he did : and there 's an end . The POSTSCRIPT . And being all asate i' th' Adverbs Hall , Doctissime , the most learn'd of all , Did make a Preposition to invite All the Conjunctions thither that night , To joyn together in this Harmonie . They all cry'd out aloud , So let it be . And eke the Interjections , if 't should chance A sudden passion too far advance , They may asswage it ( as 't is often seen ) By casting in some moderate words between . Then all with one accord agen did cry , Doctissime , that spake so learnedly , Shall be our Chair-man , let 's mount him high . They were so very drunk , the Neighbours say , They fell asleep i' th' Hall , and there they lay . By which I find , that four o' th' parts of Speech Were drunk that night , to soder up the Breach . The Battle of the Verbs . THe Quarrel of the Adverbs being known , The Verbs were much concerned every one , And in a fury 'gan to take 't to heart , ' Cause every one would take his servants part : For to the Verbs they are servants all , And obedient to their Masters call . For without them they neither dare nor can Speak Sence or Reason unto any man. Just like those Nouns called Adjectives , Who truckle still unto their Substantives . Then impero their great Commander , he Who was the chiefest in Authoritie , Commanded jubeo for to summon all The Verbs together , both great and small , With all their Arms that they ere did use On such a day at a Rendezvouze . Colligo gathers them ; and duco being made Their Captain , them to th' Fight doth lead . Incipio doth begin the Battle , and Valiant pugno fights him hand to hand . Clango commands the Trumpet then sound out ; But clamo he cries all the field about , Poor timeo is afraid , and fugio shuns The Battle , sequor follows , curro runs ; Cedo gives ground ; which made bold juro swear , And often call'd for vocito to hast the rear . Juvo , though long , at last doth bring him aid ; Yet amo's being in love , made him afraid . He then bid doceo teach him how to weild His sword : Lego said , 't was read to him i' th' field . And I , says audio , then did hear the same . Troth , says accuso , then he 's much to blame . Induo was bid to put his Armour on ; And incito to stir up , was wrought upon . Immediately poor jugulo's Throat was cut ; Says instigo , he egg'd me on to do 't . Lacco lay hid behind a Quickset-hedge ; Which video seeing , set his Teeth an edge To make complaint . Says haurio , You will draw An odium on your self : which when cerno saw , He bid lacesso not provoke too much ; ' Twou'd put , says pono , courage in a Dutch Man in the next Line . Liveo then was beat Quite black and blue , by retro's back-retreat . And salio then over the Ditch would leap ; But aio said , it was too broad and deep . Dimico in skirmish , got two wounds that bled ; And at his feet poor morior soon lay dead . Sepelio buried him , fodio dig'd his Grave , And honest scribo writ his Epitaph . Which stir'd up excito to fight agen ; And voco call'd him valiantest of men . Bless me , says beo , how valiantly he fought ! And jubilo for very joy did shout . Caedo , whoere he met , did beat 'em all ; And at the last he made poor cado fall . Candeo then 'gan to look white with fear ; But horreo dreaded nothing , as I hear . Amplector says , I do embrace the Fight ; And aperio did open to the left and right . Altercor 'gan to wrangle with them all ; Which made arcesso presently go to call Augeo , who did rather increase than stop This Jarring ; that it stir'd honest cieo up To speak to vulgo , that he would publish round The field , that the Enemy then gave ground . This made fremo roar , and furo to be mad To follow them . But hortor did exhort that they ▪ Should not do 't : yet propero did hast away . Increpo began to blame him much indeed , And jurgo chid him soundly for that deed . Then blatero 'gan to babble like an Ass , That calco kickt him as by'im he did pass . Then cogo swore he 'd force 'em for to fight ; And cito summon'd them all that very night . Lugeo did mourn , and pray'd there might be peace ; And cudo coin'd a Lye to make 'em cease Fighting : which made mad execror to curse . Ejulo and ploro too did wail , fearing 't wou'd be worse . Duro said that he 'd endure unto the end , But damno condemn'd him for it , like a friend . Fingo did feign a Lye that he might be gone ; But censeo censur'd him for it , and every one Besides . Hio began to gape for breath , they say , And halo wanted breath that very day . Macto began to kill without remorse , And paro did prepare to meet his Force . Then paveo dreaded this might mischief bring ; And pendo and pendeo did weigh every thing In the Ballance of Justice : Says oleo , I smell There 's Traytors amongst us ; says tumeo , I swell With grief to think on 't ; and so did turgeo too ; Says suspicio , I suspect it as well as you , And blam'd vitupero much , that was the cause on 't : Then volo he was forc't to flie upon 't . Nego deny'd that he had any hand in it : Says scrutor , I 'll search it out within this minit . Trunco then did mangle all came near him , And trudo thrust so strong , that all did fear him . Temno did despise all danger that might come , And vibro brandisht out his Sword , and lookt grum Upon 'em all . Vito to avoid this storm , Hid himself in a hollow Tree , ( poor worm ! ) And viso likew●se went to visit him there . At last vulgo publisht abroad where they were . Rogo and peto askt pardon for their fault , Because they fear'd they might be brought To punishment . And quatio 'gan to shake ; Vlciscor swore that he revenge would take : Which made ululo howl for very grief , Until that venio did come to his relief . Vindico did challenge any there to fight , Which renuo did refuse at the first sight . Propago did think the Fight for to prolong ; And probro being then among the throng , Did approve what he had said . And pateo he Lay open to these slanders , which made him flee . Repo did creep from thence into a Wood ; Which veto forbid , saying , ' twoud do no good . Dormio then told 'em he must sleep a while : Yes , yes , says cumbo , lie down on that Pile Of Bavins . Says exu● , Then put off too Your Arms ; 'T is best , says facio , so to do . Says cupio , Then faith now I covet drink : I believe 't , says credo ; but where 's the Chink Must purchase it ? Says do , I give it him . Come then , says pleo , fill it to the brim . Bold scindo then was cut into the brain , And fluo swore the bloud flow'd out amain . Says frico , Rub his temples well , be sure , And I , says precor , will pray for his cure . Which made poor horreo then to dread the Fight ; And gaudio did rejoyce when out of sight . Gemo began to groan , being wounded sore : Says bibo , Let him drink a little more O' th' Cordial . But mutio muttering by , Frango did break his head immediately . Foveo did cherish all this bleeding Crew , And nutrio he nourisht some of them too . Foeteo did stink for fear , when he did see Ferio strike down another . And fugo he As well as his Brother fugio , flies . And flo , With fighting long , began to puff and blow Fleo did weep extreamly for to see Flagito to beg for 's life so earnestly . I must confess that fateor got renown ; And fatigo was weary too with looking on . Fido did trust too much unto his broken blade , Which made festino hasten unto his aid . Fallo did deceive 'em all : for when he found The Bullets hiss , he fell upon the ground , That honest cogito did think him dead ; Experior too did try to rub his head . Doleo griev'd that Death should thus oretake him ; Yet expergiscor did at last awake him . Exerceo then did exercise his Crew ; But he like desero did forsake him too . Festo stood to it , advenio then comes to him ; Which when obsecro saw , he then did woo him To invade bold ingruo : But scandeo he Did climb for safety on an Oaken-tree . Then simulo did counterfeit a wound or two ; Singultio likewise sobs to see him so . Ario being dry , did wish his inside wetter ; No matter , says ardeo , you 'll burn the better . I was betray'd , says prodo , to this dismal day ; Yet prurio's fingers itcht to fight , they say . Pungo was prickt toth ' heart , when upon him Premo did press ; yet vinco overcome him . Meo unto the Battle hast doth make , But desino doth the Field forsake . Spiro to breathe , doth forbear to smite ; But crafty evito doth escape the Fight . Miror in wonder standing much amaz'd , And faint aspicio on the Battle gaz'd . Supero did overcome whoere he met ; And gratulor did the valiant Hero greet . Spero did hope well ; sperno despis'd all flight , Though redeo returned wounded from the Fight . Stringo did strain himself to overcome Bold pulso , who quickly struck him down . Then tono thundred in with might and main To help succurro , which was almost slain . Ferreo waxt hot by all these great Alarms , And fido trusts more to his feet than arms . Dimitto sent a Bullet then so right , The Powder scorcht poor ustulo that night . Luxo then put his arm quite out of joynt , That ungo was forc'd at last it to anoint . Erro mistook the place , and wander'd up and down , And equito after him rod from Town to Town . Corusco's arms glister'd in the fight that day , And mico's shin'd likewise , as some do say . Metuo did fear to meet too , as I hear , Yet at last with misceo mingled in the rear : And occulo did hide himself behind a Tree , Which monstro shew'd to all the companie . Sad verto turn'd from one side to the other , And muto chang'd too , as if he were his Brother . Nuo did nod his head at some were there , That neco almost kill'd him when he came neer . But mulceo did asswage his fury then , And paco striv'd to appease all these men . Though congruo advis'd them to agree , And allur'd Lacio of his party to be , Yet cingo girds his Sword about him then , And jungo joyns with other marshal men . Ausculto hearkens what they meant to do ; Emo buys Armour to defend him too . Titubo did stumble by his too much hast , Vacillo stagger'd too , they strook so fast . Laedo was hurt , and 's Brother noceo too ; And tueor defends himself with much ado . Tego was cover'd with a gallant Shield , Yet being beat by verbero , made him yield . Plango did much lament his grievous chance , ' Cause ico smote him with his direful Lance. Ruo did rush into that furious Fight , Which did , they say , poor terreo much affright . Sarcio did patch his Armour , 't was so old ; And demo took 't away , he was so bold . Languio did languish ' cause his wounds were deep ; And serpo from the Battle soon did creep . Bold voveo vow'd that he 'd have Armour on ; Which obliviscor forgot , till all was done . Palleo lookt very pale , and wou'd a fled ; but Undaunted teneo soundly held him to 't . Findo did cleave his Enemies scull that day ; Yet medeor made a shift to heal't , they say . Formido did dread to come into the Fight , And culpo blam'd him for 't , they say , that night . Voco did call on vado to go on ; Poor labo faints , when jaceo cast him down : But recupero recover'd incontinent ; For spero gave him hope , being almost spent . As I live , says vivo , statuo did appoint Me Ensigne , in regard I first did win 't . Nosco said , he knew it ; mentior swore he ly'd ; Then acuo whets his sword that hung by 's side . Peace , peace , says taceo ; sudo sweat for fear , And surgo rose and fled into the rear . Singultio then began to sob , they say , Because provoco challeng'd him that day . Cubo fell down , and capio did him take Up agen , when he could hardly speak . Frendeo then did gnash with 's teeth so hard , It drove away poor pello from the Guard. Come , says invenio , I do clearly find Maneo did well to tarry still behind : For incendo here has set us all on fire ; And I 'll begin , says inchoo to retire . Oro prays heartily that it may succeed ; Says indico , I 'll shew you a way with speed . Consulo's counsel they did not dispise ; Condono said , he 'd pardon his Enemies . Fascino thought he was bewitcht he swore ; But patio said , that he had suffered more Than all . Impertio did impart to 'em all ; And I command , says mando , great and small . Obedio vow'd that he 'd the first obey , And Moneo did admonish the same way . Says Narro , I will tell it round the field ; Nolo , though unwilling , yet at last doth yield . And volo was as willing , I do protest ; But malo was more willing than all the rest . I have a mind , says habeo , for to joyn With all this Crew . Says rego , And I 'll resigne My Rule . Sto was at a stand , and gaz'd about ; And certo striv'd to draw this Rabble-rout To some Agreement . At last loquor's Speech Did by degrees soder up the Breach . Tho praedico did preach before in vain , And suadeo did perswade with might and main , And fungo did discharge his duty right , And he with unio caus'd them all unite , And dico said , 'T was best from War to cease , And sancio he establish did a Peace , And solvo paid 'em for their service done , And jurgo chid those from fight did run , Finio the Battle ends : yet most do say , Though jacto brag'd , yet vinco won the day . Numero did number all then were slain , And opto wisht't might nere be so again . Parco was very glad that he was spar'd ; And partio did divide the spoil was shar'd . Irascor was angry , and began to fret , ' Cause adsum was not present when they met . I was , says eram , and am glad to see A Reconciliation so like to be . Then salto danc'd , and ludo 'gan to play On 's Instrument for joy of that happy day . We had better , says lavo , wash our Throats than cut 'em : And tundo knockt for Liquor ; which was brought ' m. Yet turgeo and tumeo 'gan to swell , ' Cause placeor was not pleased very well . Says veto , Jove forbid that we agen Should fight : To which they all did cry , Amen . The Concords . THe Interjections living so near the Concords , Were , as I 'm told , the onely strong Cords To tye 'em up from War ; came in I find In some vehement passion of the mind , And affection also : and before they went , Brought in the three Concords to that intent . The first was Nominative case and Verb , Who striv'd their unbridled passions to curb , By saying , Yet we ne'r did disagree , But liv'd in love , concord , and harmonie In affections ; and so I hope will ye : For we in Case Number and Person still agree . Then the Substantive , who was substantial , Came with 's Adjective at the very first call , Who said , that in Case Gender and Number they Did never disagree , nor disobey Their Superiours , and were each a sure friend , As amicus certus can tell , to the end , In any doubtful matter whatsoere , Witness in re incerta cernitur . So we hope in this brangling matter , To bring 't so to pass all Feuds may scatter Like the dust before the wind . And then Came in the Relative with 's Antecedent , when The other two were endeavouring to compose That great difference where ev'ry one were foes . The Relative said , I 've Relations there : And I , says the Antecedent , shou'd a come here Before the Relative ; but I 'm glad he 's there . Then 't was related to the Relative , how It did begin . Says the Antecedent , Now We will endeavour to make 'em all agree , And adde one Concord more to th' other three . Then they both being together , Did very seriously ask 'em whether They'd adde another Concord to th' three before : If so , then you must never quarrel more . To which they did concord , cum tota mente , With a large Huzza , Nemini Contradicente . The Conjunctions . WHen the Adverbs Quarrel began to cease , The Conjunctions striv'd to make a Peace , With the help of the Prepositions , And their Neighbours the Interjections . Which being done , the Conjunctions they Striv'd to prevent such another day : And by a Conjunction did all agree For the future to live in amitie . And so did joyn some sentences and words Together , and what their Store-house affords , To give some reason that they ought no more To quarrel as others did heretofore . Says et , And I will joyn w' ye in the same . Says quae , And I ; or else I were to blame . Says quoque also , I 'll stick by ye still . Says ac and atque , And also 't was their will. Says nec , Neither I nor my Brother neque ; We 'll break our necks ere we 'll forsake ye . And these coupled themselves then for that end , That they might still be each others friend . Though the Disjunctives did at first disjoyn From the last , yet now to quietness incline . And aut , to excuse himself , said , 'T was either Ve , vel , seu , sive , or he knew not whether That did disjoyn 'em ; but now all do desire To stick close unt' ye to quench the fire . But then the Discretives , that were discreeter Than the other , did say , It was meeter For all to be friends . Says quidem Truly I've often known Disjunctives much unruly . But sed and autem , vero , at , and ast , Thought themselves the Buts , they 'd shoot at last . The Causals then resolv'd next to speak , And thought they 'd cause enough their mind to break : For says nam , namque , enim , and etenim , That some o' th' Adverbs then did threaten 'em ; But know not what for . Says quia , 'T was because ( And so said quoniam ) some had broke the Laws . Says ut , That may be : And quod said That was so . Says quum , Sith that I no Tony am ; And so said quando , that was set for quoniam . Says the Conditionals , On this condition You 'll never more have any division ; We 'll speak for ye . Says si , If I do Believe their ifs and ands agen , let me rue It. Says sin , But if they should first begin , Then at their door I 'm sure does lie the sin . Says modo , So that they 'll but let us alone ; And so said dum , and dummodo , and every one , We 'll never differ more . Says dum , They told me then , That I should marry Dido , Carthage Queen ; But 't was by the very consent of some O' th' Gerunds . To make it up , di , do , dum . The Exceptives then some Exceptions made , As ni , and nisi , being both of one Trade , Said , Except they leave off thus to abuse us , We can't endure long to be us'd thus . Then says alioquin , and praeterquam , Except that they do this , we mean to firk ' um . Then says quin , But I neither except that , Or any thing that 's otherwise , that 's flat . The Interogatives then were took to task , And were resolv'd some Questions to ask . And first , says ne , an , utrum , whether You do intend to speak altogether , Or singly ? Nay , says necne , Whether or no : And so says anne : Says nonne , Is 't not so ? The Illatives then were for bringing in Some novel Custom , that had long been Out of use . Says ergo , Therefore : ideo , Igitur , itaque , and proin , bid ye , ho , To bring in nothing that was against Law. Says quare , Wherefore should they do 't ? thy're raw That do desire it . Then the Adversatives , Who had been very adverse all their lives , And were against every thing that 's good , Now did no more desire to deal in blood : For says etsi , quanquam , quamvis , and licet , Although we hated Peace , yet now we prize it . And before 'em all , says esto , Be it so : And so shall all the rest say 'fore we go . The Redditives then said , That they 'd restore Whatere they had unjustly gotten ; nay , more To be quiet . Says attamen and tamen , Notwithstanding that many does blame men For their wickedness : Yet the Electives say , With quam , How glad are we to see this day ! The Diminutives also did confess , That they endeavour'd to make all things less Than they were , thereby to have quietness . Says saltem at least , and so says honest vel , They were glad to see all things now so well . The Prepositions . A Preposition most commonly is set Before other parts i' th' Grammar-Alphabet . Then why the Adverbs and Conjunctions should be Set before it , a wonder is to me : For he in Apposition can do much , And in Opposition too has a touch . For he to 's Father , if he please , can say , Ad Patrem ; and when he has done , go his way . Likewise in opposition is very bold With the rest of 's Brethren , as I 've been told . And then for composition , none can be So great an Artist in that Trade as he , As indoctus , though unlearn'd , said to me . 'T was he that great composition made To th' Adverbs , when they that great quarrel had ; And privately was the cause , they say , That the Verbs themselves fought no more that day : And call'd to all of them that were his Crew , That they in that thing should joyn with him too . And first , says ad , I 'll adde to any thing Which may indeed peace and quietness bring . And I will be , says apud , at the same ; And they that do it not , are much to blame . Then were adversus , and 's Brother adversum , Against fighting too : but said , There were some That delighted in 't , and they could rehearse ' um . Yes , says cis and citra on this side the street , Many often about it together did meet . Yes , says trans , on the further side too ; But they at my request , themselves withdrew . Then says circa , circiter , and circum , About that time we were us'd to jerk 'um For it . I was , says contra , on t'other part , And did contrary them in all their Art. As I went , says erga , towards 'em too , I forc'd 'em to peace , do all they could do . And versus towards 'em went , as I have heard , And took the untoward and pluck'd 'em by the beard . I was , says extra , without when 't was done : And I , says intra , within when 't was begun . I was just then , says inter , between ye both , And was much troubled to see 'em all in wrath . And I was then , says infra , beneath ye all , Yet not so far as to be out of call . I was , says pone , behind ; ye cou'd not see Me at all : I stood behind a Tree . And I was also , says prope , nigh to , Yet was seeing for a place to flie to . But I was , says supra , above ye all , I mean , i' th' Room which is above the Hall. And I was , says ultra , beyond the rest , To sleep in a whole skin I thought it best . And I , says per , by too ; but through my desire For peace , did endeavour to quench the fire . I was then , says secus , by or nigh to , But I 'll assure ye had no mind to die too . Says juxta , And besides I was nigh to , and Ob , For some reasons , which you 'll understand . I had it , says penes , in my power either To set 'em by the Ears together , Or to make peace ; truth is , I car'd not whether . Says praeter , Besides , or except I had been there , Great mischief wou'd a been done , I dare swear : For I being praetor , that 's Lord-Mayor , you know , Kept 'em in aw , and brought 'em all to my bow . Last , says secundum , According to what you 've said , Your will with me shall always be obey'd . Then the Propositions broke up their Court , And all to their own Stations did resort . The Interjections . AN Interjection is a part , I find , Which concerns a sudden passion o' th' mind : But 't is under an imperfect voice , I hear , ( That is to say , within their proper Sphere . ) Some are so merry , they 're to mirth inclin'd : Says evax , vah , hey brave ! We 'll not be confin'd : Can they want any thing that are merry ? Come , Boy , fill us a lusty Cup of Sherry . Some are with sorrow attended , still they say , As heu , Alas ! and says hui , Welladay ! Some are possest with dread ; says atat , Out alas , What shall we do , being brought to this pass ? Some are of marvelling too ; which argues change : And all do cry still with papae , O strange ! Some are of shunning , and all back will run , And boldly say with 〈◊〉 avant , Be gone . And of pratling 〈…〉 says euge , Well done . And some of 〈…〉 ' ●is very true , Who all do cry 〈…〉 hoop , whoo ! And so●… 〈…〉 and oft cry Foh ; And with 〈…〉 proh , cry Oh : As ô preceptor●… 〈…〉 ●ras ? O , Master , why 〈…〉 me ? Alas , alas ! And proh 〈…〉 Fidem ! O the Faith o● 〈…〉 to guide ' em ! And some 〈…〉 delight , I see ; And all say lik● 〈…〉 vae , Wo t' ye . And all the 〈…〉 therein , Saying , Woe 〈…〉 that shall quarrel agen , And wish they may go all down quick to th' Pit : Then says all the rest . Amen , So be it . The Gerunds . THere be also belonging to th' Infinitive Mood Of Verbs , certain Voices ( to be understood ) Call'd Gerunds , having all their endings in Di , do , dum ; and so of long time have bin : As amandi , of loving . 'T is very true , A man die of loving , 't is nothing new . Amando , in loving , is brought to 's end . I saw a man do much in that to 's friend . Amandum , to love ; that 's more than all the rest . When a man is dumb , how can's mind be exprest ? And as di , do , dum , all their endings are , And when they do die , they 're dumb , I 'll swear : For after death , there 's few speak any where , As I 've been told by some o' th' Neighbours there . For those di do endings bring 'em to their ends ; And therefore enemies to 'em , and not friends . And when they do die , as being Gerunds , Then Mr. Death does send 'em of his Errands . The Supines . THere do also belong unto Verbs , two Supines ; and that they may have their due , One ending in um , which is call'd the first , But the other in u , which is much the worst . The first is of the Active Regiment , And clearly to love and loving is bent : And where-ever he goes , says eo amatum , I go to love , and not to cheat ' um . But that in u is rugged , harsh , severe , And very hard to be loved any where , As difficilis amatu told us there . They both are descended from one Su Pine , Who was their Mother , and born under th' Line . And likewise she her self came from the Loins Of him that was the Prince o' th' Isle of Pines . They 're both of different temper , yet Brothers As if they 'd been descended from two Mothers . The Conjugations . THe Verbs have onely four Conjugations ; Which are known in this manner , in all Nations : And they are Feminines all , as I hear ; And by that time you know it , you 'll say 't is clear . First , by their names , as amare , amaris ; That is , one Mrs. Mary was Lady Mayoress . And indeed they love well three of the four , But the other they hate for evermore . And the reason why they love the first , second , & fourth , Is , because they think 'em of very much worth ; Because they 're pronounc'd long in the middle Syllable in the next line : and let the third go fiddle : For he in the middle is found to be but short , And so by consequence makes them no sport . And being Conjugations , they are wedded To the other three , but will ne'r be bedded To the third ; and I certainly know this , As long as his name is legere , legeris . Thus you 've heard the meaning of all the four Conjugations ; what need I say any more ? The Persons . THere are among the Verbs , Persons also , And very great Persons too , you must know . Their Numbers are great too , nay more than one : For there 's two numbers of 'em which are known . And seeing the numbers of 'em are so great , We 'll appoint numero them to repeat : Of which persons there is but onely three That are singular men ; which I 'll make known t' ye . That 's the most Princely Impero , Mando , And Jubeo ; which command as much as men can do . Other three there are plurally addicted , And are for more than one naturally affected ; Which is the cause that they do never marry , But Misses numberless 'bout with 'em carry . The Servants to the first , are ego , tu , ille ; Which is as much as to say , I , thou , he , Will domineer over all the Country . And the Servants o' th' last are in number the same , But not o' th' same number , yet as much fame ; And they are call'd nos , vos , illi , they say ; That is to be interpreted , we , ye , they , We 'll all be drunk as often as we may . Then ego amo , I love ; tu amas , thou lovest ; I lle amat , he loveth : Now which loves best ? The other which is called nos amamus , We love ; for which I hope you won't blame us . Vos amatis , ye love ; why shou'd ye not ? Illi amant , they love ; Love's all their lot . It had been well if all the Verbs had been so , Then we shou'd have had no fighting you know . Thus have you heard the Persons and Numbers too : So that I think I 've nothing more to do . The Pronouns courting a Mistriss . A Pronoun is a fellow much like to a Noun , And thinks himself the bravest man in Town ; And still in Poetry will be versing , But 's chief business is shewing and rehearsing . A very pretty , witty , and buxom Maid They'd lately got among 'em , as 't is said : And every one did think himself better Than the rest ; and so did strive to get her . Says ego , I am chief of all the rest , And therefore think I do deserve her best . Says tu , Thou have her ! what , ' cause y' are Foreman O' th' Jury ? Yet she knows y' are but a poor man. But here 's one call'd sui , of himself can say In 's own behalf , more than any of they . Says ille , He to my knowledge cannot break His mind : for I ne'r yet heard him speak . But here 's one Mr. ipse , the man will be , Because sh 'as long known him , ipse , he . Though ipse be the very man you speak of , Yet I say iste the match will break off , ' Cause he 's an Hermaphrodite , both he and she , So not fit for that Ladies companie . Says hic , Though iste this and that do say , Yet I hic , this man , will have her away . How , says iste , is that the man must do 't ? There 's one Mr. meus will hold him to 't : For she is , says meus , mine ; therefore I , Before I 'll lose her , am resolv'd to die . Then says tuus , Thine she shall be for me ; For I 'm resolv'd not to fight for any she . Says noster , Ours she is , and ours shall be : She is , says vester , yours , if you and I agree : For you know that whatsoever is yours , If I participate therein , 't is ours . And then began too Monsieur nostras , Who in his Country-Language was boistrous To get her from the two last , saying , She is Of our Country . Says vestras , And so 't is : For your Country is our Country , and so Our Country is your Country all do know , And so belongs unto us both ; let 's go And take her . Says cujas that was lurking by , You both lay claim to her as yours ; but I Lay claim to her , not onely as of my Country , but of my Sect too , certainly . So took her from them all , saying , Know , Who dares resist , is my perpetual foe ; And they for fear , it seems , did let her go . Then up the Court rose , and did march in May Unto their own homes , which is much , you 'll say . The Participles . A Participle doth participate With Noun and Verb in all degrees and state : With the Noun , in Gender , Case , Declension ; With the Verb , in Tense and Signification . And yet to make the wonder the bigger , Takes part with both in number and figure . There are of Participles but four kinds , Which scarce do know one anothers minds : For they never are together at one time ; Which to offer to do , wou'd be a Crime . The Present , Preter , Future in rus and dus : How , two Futures ! that 's preposterous . O , Sir , 't is most certain ; and I say yes : For is not the next year future to this ? And the third year also future to that ? So now you see there 's two futures , that 's flat . The present hath two ends to lodge at , ans And ens ; and the Landlord to th' first is amans Loving : for we know that a mans loving is The cause of his great sorrow or bliss . And as before-said , the second is call'd ens , Whose Masters name is Monsieur docens : Who is teaching of 'em all perpetually ; But those that are not present , by and by : But chiefly the present time is his aim , And every day will be to him the same . The second is praeter , who likewise has three ends In English , as d , t , n , who are his friends ; As loved , taught , slain . He has also Three ends of Latin too , which we also know , As tus , sus , xus ; as amatus , visus , nexus ; Who when we are construing , does always vex us . And another dull dead word , in uus , Which is Mr. Morio●'s Son , mortuus : He hates the present Tense ; for he 's for nought But that which is past , which he has dearly bought By vindicating that which he will ne'r see , And so to himself is a great Enemie . But that in rus , which is a Country-man , Has an active voice ( though looking wan ) By being about to love Amaturus Daughter ; That is , if not now , he 'll do 't hereafter . But that in dus doth suffer very much more Than all the other three that were before : For he scorns to love , being often moved To it ; but with amandus , to be beloved : For a man does love to be belov'd sometimes ; That is , when young Ladies are in their primes . And as they were all to Nouns and Verbs alli'd , So in their distinct seasons , were to them a Guide . They all were glad the Verbs a Peace had made ; For when they heard on 't first , were all afraid : And to the Concords for that agreement Which they had made , they in their seasons went To give 'em thanks ; and then their Healths did tipple : Which was then done by every Participle . POEMS and SONGS . A Mock-Song to Beauty . 1. MY Love is a pretty Lass As any 's in all the Town ; Her Face doth shine like Brass , And her Skin of a Tawny-brown . 2. Her Hair 's of a lovely red , With Horsegirt-Ribbands tied , And hangs about her head Like Daglocks beautified . 3. Her Forehead is low and rough , Just like a pleated Gown ; Her Ears are large and tough , And always are hanging down . 4. Her Eyes are sunk full low Into her pretty head ; From whence a Cream doth flow That over her face doth spread . 5. The one of her Eyes is large , The other is very small ; Her Mouth it is like a Barge , For length and breadth and all . 6. Her Nose of a Scarlet hue , Well set with Jems about , And all do appear in view To adorn her delicate Snout . 7. Though her Nose and Chin did jar , Yet now they are perfect friends ; And though at distance were , Now touch at both the ends . 8. Her Teeth they are black and blue , Her Tongue than the Cows more neat ; Her Lips of a silver hue , And thatcht with Hair compleat . 9. Her Neck it is thick and short , Just like our brindled Cow ; And when she sings for sport , She grunts like our old Sow . 10. Her Shoulders and Arms are strong , And both of a lusty growth ; To which her Hands do belong , That are Shoulders of Mutton both . 11. Her Back it is high and plump , That some have her Credit defil'd , By saying , that above her Rump She always did seem with Child . 12. There 's never a Girl in Town Of her Breasts can make such brags ; For they still are dangling down Like half-fill'd Pudding-bags . 13. Of her Hanches she often boasts , Because they are very fair ; Her Thighs are two Windmil-posts , So they 'd need for the weight they bear . 14. Her Legs are lovely and great , Which doth her Credit maintain ; And therefore must needs be neat , Being born in Crooked-lane . 15. And now for her pretty Feet , They can her Arms display ; But to see how her Heels do meet , Now her Toes are worn away . 16. Having heard the parts of my Dame , I now do conclude my Droll ; And having no Toes , her name Is call'd Stump-footed Moll . In praise of the Taylors trade . THe Taylors Trade is antient , all we know ; For in the first of times they learnt to sow , And made them Breeches then , and Aprons too : But was not worth a fig , to what 't is now . Threadneedle-street likewise to all is known To be the antient'st Street in London-Town . The Cross-leg'd Signe was there the first set up , And likewise there was first a Taylors shop . Their Arms are antient too , and well them fits ; Which is three Rampant Lice and a Cluster of Nits : Which Coat of Arms , with something else , hath made More Gentlemen of that , than any Trade . And now I do believe you 'd know the cause ; Have patience , and I 'll tell you how it was : An antient Gentleman that was decay'd , ( Who once had been a rich and ruffling Blade ) Brought 's Doublet to mend to a Taylors house , On which were creeping many a lusty Louse ; But one more large and rampant than the rest , Which made the Taylor think he was the best And chief of all that sharp Back-biting Crew ; Which he took up , and cut him just in two With his new Shears , and gave his Wife one half To eat , and th' other half did eat himself . And from that time did verily think that he Was a Gentleman , and of antiquitie , Because that Louse he knew had suckt before Of the antient Gentlemans blood such store . And 's Wife likewise did verily think she was A Gentlewoman too for that very cause : And so did write themselves , do all we cou'd , Because they eat so much o' th' gentile bloud . Nay , his man did say he was half a Gentleman , Having lickt the Shears that cut the Louse in twain . Then he drank hard , which you know doth make us Gentlemen all that are friends to Bacchus : And when others would leave half i' th' Cup , Yet he would always wind his Bottoms up . Nay , those which drank not , he would say were dull , And tell 'em still , 't was but a Thimble-full , He could not drink to mend his Bloud , I 'm sure ; You know his Bloud was good enough before . When other Gentlemen would say they were Gentlemen of such and such a Shire , Yet he excels them all in spight of their Ears ; Theirs came from one , his from a pair of Shears . And whereas other men did call the Court Behind their house , a Backside ; he , in sport , Commands them all to call 't a Yard : for he knew His Wife would be well-pleas'd with that name too : And please her he must in all his discourse , Because the grey Mare was known the better Horse . And likewise knew it did belong to 's Trade ; Without a Yard , no measure could be made . Some say , by Surgery too he was grown rich : For never man did better cure a Stitch. Your Lawyers likewise much a Taylor praise , Saying , 't is an excellent Trade now-a-days ; Nay , best for a Lawyer in all the Land , ' Cause he has still so many Suits in hand . One askt him why he marri'd a Northern woman ? He told him , in their Trade 't was very common , Because their Needle still to th' North doth tend ; And as their Needle guides , so they must bend . He hath a Goose too , that flutters still so high , And is so proud , that it presses all't comes nigh : And 't is a Goose that ne'r had more than one Wing at all ( when that 's off , he 'll have none . ) Other Geese do swim , but these , Pox rot 'um , Do still i' th' water sink down to th' bottom . Besides his Yard , he hath another Measure Which he doth clip and alter at his pleasure . The Barbers Trade is not so gentile as it , Because they stand , but Taylors always sit Still at their work : which was the cause , I think , A fellow said ( when he was got in drink ) That a Taylors feet stunk the worst of any Trade whatsoever ; ( although there be many ) And reasons gave us why they were so strong , Because they 're under his breech all day long . A Taylor sent the other day ( I know him ) Unto a man for ten pounds he did owe him . What makes thy Master send thus every day ? I hope he does not think I 'm running away ? No , Sir , though you are not , I 'll tell you true , Yet he must do 't within a day or two . A Taylor once was bid to make a Gown ; And who d' ye think 't was for ? 't was for the Moon : And as he tri'd it still ( as all men say ) It was too big or little every day . The Taylor then was not in fault , you see ; But 't was indeed the Moon 's inconstancie . How can't be otherways , being stuft with Lunacie , And commonly light-headed used to be ? There is a Proverb which has been of old , And many men have likewise been so bold , To the discredit of the Taylors Trade , Nine Taylors goes to make up a man , they said . But for their credit I 'll unriddle it t' ye : A Draper once fell into povertie , Nine Taylors joyn'd their Purses together then , To set him up , and make him a man agen : Which made him vow , nay bound it with some Oaths , That none but Taylors hereafter should make his Cloths . The POSTSCRIPT . Thus have you heard the Taylor o're and o're , And more I think than ere you heard before ; And when he works , doth still fit on 's breech , But yet to all he still went thorow stitch . And though some Taylors take delight in cupping , Yet Breadstreet is their best place to set up in . A SONG , To the Tune of Well , well , 't is true , That I 'm fallen in love , and 't is with you . 1. Go , go , you Slut , That day and night art cramming of thy Gut This sad and pinching year : How can this mean Estate of mine Supply that Gulphlike Paunch of thine , Now every thing 's so dear ? Remember once , you Jade , at Islington You eat , besides of Bread and Cheese , a dozen Cakes alone 2. Once we did go Abroad into the Fields to walk , you know ; And then , forsooth , you cri'd , You were so faint for want of Meat , And must have something then to eat , Or else you should have di'd . Yet thou didst eat , when we came out a door , A Pidgeon-pye the crust and all , but half an hour before . 3. Nay , more , you Swine : When I invited once some Friends of mine , You presently did fall Upon the Meat was on the Spit , And ere that we could eat a bit , Thou hadst devour'd it all . Retrench this gormandizing trade , you Whore , Or else I vow by mighty Jove , I 'll turn thee out a door . A Song on a Lady and her Chamber-Maid . 1. A Chamber-Maid was got with Child ; For which her Lady did call her Whore , And said that sh 'ad her house defil'd , And vow'd she 'd turn her out a door . Who got the Child , says she , you Jade ? Your Husband , and please you , Madam . Why where , you Whore ? Forsooth , she said , In the Trucklebed a Hadham . 2. Why where was I ? I 'll know the truth : Come tell me , or else I 'll make ye . In the high bed fast asleep , forsooth , And I was afraid to wake ye . Why did you not cry out , you Drab , When first you saw he begun it ? Truly , forsooth , I was never a Blab Of my Tongue : Wou'd you a done it ? 3. And besides , forsooth , you know That I your humour know too well , That if you 're suddenly wakt , you 'll throw And tear like to a Fiend of Hell. Nay , you 'll cry out with loud Alarms , And fling what your fingers touches , That I 'd rather be in my Masters Arms , Than ever to come in your Clutches . 4. Why did you not then sooner go , You errant Quean , before 't was known ? Truly , Madam , 't is even so , Because that you had none a your own . And indeed , Madam , the truth to tell , I think I well did plot it , Imagining you would use it well For his dear sake that got it . A Song called the Hasty Wedding . The Tune is the Gunfleet . 1. I 'm in love , says Noll : Indeed , says Doll ! But prethee say with who ? I fear , says he : Come speak , says she : Why then it is with you . You jest , says Doll ! Good faith , says Noll , You do me wrong , my Dolly . But men , says she , to flattery be Too much addicted , Nolly . 2. I vow , says Noll , I love thee , Doll : But pray , Sir , tell me where ? At my heart , says he : At your heart , says she ! And do you love me there ? 'T is true , says Noll : But you , says Doll , Do love another better . Who is 't , says he ? Why Nan , says she ; You t'other day did treat her . 3. Fie , fie , says Noll ! Why , why , says Doll ? Why Nan did come to me , And pray'd me write that very night To her Sweet-heart Humfrey . What then , says Doll ? Why then , says Noll , I gave her a pint of Wine , Doll . What else , says she ? Why Cakes , says he , And yet no Miss of mine , Doll . 4. But yet , says Doll , my Father , Noll , Does say y' are poor of late . How ! poor , says he ! Yes , poor , says she , And must not be my Mate . I have , says Noll : What hast , says Doll ? Why I have a House and Land , Doll . Where is 't , says she ? Why 't is , says he , At the lower end o' th' Strand , Doll . 5. What Goods , says Doll ? All sorts , says Noll , That in a house is common . Indeed , says she ! And fit , says he , For any honest woman . How , how , says Doll ! Good faith , says Noll , 'T is true ; and all are my own : And a Feather-bed , with Curtains red , For thee and I to lie on . 6. Then 't is , says Doll , a Match , my Noll , Let Father and Mother chide . Is 't done , says he ? 'T is done , says she ; And I will be thy Bride . Let 's kiss , says Noll : Content , says Doll ; And there 's another for ye . When wed we , says he ? To morrow , says she . We will no longer tarric . 7. Come then , says Noll , we 'll go , my Doll , And see the house before ; And then , says he : What then , says she ? Thou't find I am not poor . Agreed , says Doll ; and — And when , says Noll , To morrow we are wedded , Thy Parents shall , and Kindred all , Then come and see us bedded . Iter Orientale : or , a Voyage from London to Chipping-Unger in Essex ; performed by some Gentlemen in August 1674. HEnceforth I never more will hunger To ride again to Chipping-Vnger In Essex County , as I hear , And month of August every year . Not but we had a gallant Feast , And Meat most delicately drest , As Turky , Pig , Goose ; and the chief Was an excellent piece of Beef , So large , it made the Spit to bend , And a yard distance from either end ; And when 't came up , there were two able Men to bring it to the Table : With Pullets , Capons , and on my word , All that time o' th' year cou'd afford . And then we did excel in Drink Of several sorts . Stay , let me think . And first we had good humming Beer , The best , I think , in all the Shire : And store of Nappy Ale likewise , Which quickly did our brains surprize : But then of Wine we had such store , I thought one house could hold no more . The Tables fill'd with Bottles were , We scarce cou'd set Tobacco there ; That one to ask was then so bold , Whether the Bottles were to be sold ? And yet to make up more variety , Of Friends there was a brave society , So truly merry and so free , I was ne'r in better Companie . Handsome , witty , and good humour too ; Faith , and that 's much in so great a Crew , That every thing there spoke or done , Was Object of Mirth to every one : And all resolv'd there to be merry ; But alas , poor Captain , he was weary , And gauled was so much , that he Cou'd find no part of 's Rump was free . This being so , you 'll ask me then , Why I 'll no more to Vnger agen : Which to unriddle , I will not fail ; But now comes out a doleful Tale That ever yet was heard before , His Buttocks being so vilely tore . The Horse whereon he then did ride , Wore Whalebone-Bodies on either side : For the Spur had made the Ribs appear , As if you had Glass-windows there . And then he had so sweet a trot , By that time I two miles had got , As if it were for the very nonce : For it dislocated all my bones . And then his trotting was so high , He 'd mount me up ; then by and by Wou'd let me down with such a jolt , I had much ado to keep my holt . He once did lift me up so high ; ( But here you 'll think I tell a lye ) Far be 't from me ; I 'm not so given : For I heard the Angels sing in Heaven . You may think I hyperbolize , But I hope you do not think 'em lyes : For at that time I did bestraddle Such a fashion'd uncouth Saddle : For such a one it chanc'd to be , From which , good Lord , deliver me From such another : For allagree 'T was made of Deal-boards certainlie ; But some a better name did give it , Saying , 't was Wainscot ; you may believe it : And I began to think so too . It was so hard , I swear to you , I thought't had lain in water or mud That turns all things to stone that 's wood : For I did find a rising bump O' th' top , which often hit my Rump ; And went to cut it , but on my life , It soon turn'd the edge of my Knife . I hope you think , when on 't I rid , A pleasant Saddle I bestrid . In Stirrup-leathers I was blest , ' Cause they were like to all the rest : For they in pieces were so plenty , I think in number almost twenty ; They were so patcht in knots and bumps , And other risings just like lumps , That I protest I broke my knuckle To draw the Leather through the Buckle . The Buckles and Stirrups were with rust So eat , that all that saw 'em , must Seek for a Faith to believe that ere They were iron , so unlike they were . Yet I believe that I am able To prove , that the straps o' th' Saddle Had once been Leather , when I had found Two or three holes both round and sound . And for my Girts , I do protest , I cannot tell whether 't is best To call 'em so : for one I found Not square , but excellently round ; Which makes me think that it was made Just when the Roundheads drove their trade , For its antiquity and make . But for the other , if I may speak My mind freely , the breadth's about A quarter and nail , I dare avow't ; By which you see they were not brothers , Being so unlike one another . And for the Bridle , this I 'll say , 'T was onely for a Lord-Mayors-day For an Alderman to ride upon , If then he cou'd get such a one . Being thus accommodated , I Did ride by th' Coach triumphantly , Unto the credit then of all My Dames that rode there , both great and small . But now comes out the saddest Tale , Which my poor Rump does still bewail : For never Rump was served so , When they to Vnger ere did go . I 'd rather to endure a whipping , Than ride again to Vnger-Chipping : I 'm sure I shou'd have lesser whales Than I had then upon my Tail. And well they may Chipping call it ; For 't chipt my Nock , and did so maul it In many Chips and corner'd cuts , I cou'd not help it for my Guts : So gaul'd it was in many places , That I was forc'd make many faces ( Whensoever I got it drest ) And yet no Painter , I protest . Sometimes 't wou'd itch , and then I 'd scrat ; Then turn a this side , and then a that : Sometimes 't wou'd smart , then must I Not sit at all , but stand or lie . Some seeing me lean a one side , sware That I was whispering to the Chair . Others askt me why I pensive sate , Saying , 't was so with me but a late . Nay , I heard one whisper through a Gap , That certainly I had got a Clap. And when I kneel'd against a Chair , They 'd ask me if I were at Prayer . And when for ease I on my Belly lay , Sure you're asham'd to shew your face , they 'd say . And when that I came through a Town From Vnger , says a Country Clown , Like Crookbackt Richard I did ride , When I turn'd my Rump up a one side . And at another Town , a fellow sware I was like the Bunchbackt Taylor there . And when to ease my Nock I lay On the Horse-neck , then they say , ( When I was in that pitiful case ) Sure that man 's a running a Race . And as through Stratford-Bow I came , Says one , How d' ye , Sir ? are you lame , Or are you gaul'd , and is it sore ? Ah , friend , thought I , than all before , Thou speakest truest : He bid me pick From off a Tree an Elder-stick , And put into my Pocket ; and swore That at that time 't wou'd gaul no more . Troth , friend , thought I , I 'm o' thy mind : For I am so much gaul'd behind , There 's no place free , it is so tore , How cou'd it then gaul any more ? Thus you may see my desperate case Being so , to jeer me to my face . Then I do every man advise Not to ride as I did , if he be wise : Which to prevent , let him never paddle , As I did then , on such a Saddle . Perhaps you 'll ask why I did not look Before I leapt : I swear upon a book I cou'd not help it ; the horse was sent ( As 't were to me in complement ) And left him at my Lodging-door , When all the rest were gone before : So Hobsons choice was left to me , Either this or none , most certainlie . Then every one began to say , They did not pity me that day : For had I gallopt as I ought , I had to the Town more Leather brought ; But I , forsooth , must often tarry For my Dog Tango , that was weary . Sure I think it was good nature Not to leave a poor dumb Creature In a strange place : for I 'll swear He ne'r did speak as I did hear ; And being dumb , how cou'd he then Beg relief from Country-men ? For some an 'um are like a Hog , To respect him no more than a Dog ; Unless that he at Barking had bin In Essex too , with some of his Kin , Who might relieve him for 's barkings sake , Although poor thing he cou'd not speak : For Barking was his Dialect ; and how Can Essex-men understand Baw waw ? So Tango might be starved in A Country where he ne'r had bin . His feet were surbated , and he sick ; Which toucht poor Tango to the quick . Thus have you heard most certainly , The Story of my Dog and I. I now must speak of two Comrades Which furnisht were with arrant Jades , As we our self was furnished , Except the Saddle on which I rid . The young mans horse came from a Butcher , Who kickt when he did not touch her . His horse was raw , and lean , and tall , He lookt like Alexander on 's Bucephal . I cannot say he lost much Leather , Yet brought home less than he carri'd thither . And 's Comrade too that with him went Home , did confess his Rump was rent . Their Rumps were bad , but mine was worse , That we all may say , God a mercy Horse . The POSTSCRIPT . Thus have you heard our Iter Orientale , Which to us three was very male ; But I the worst of all that Jovial Crew : So iterum , atque iterum , I bid ye adieu . A new Song . 1. I Once for a fancy , did love pretty Nancy , Till Jenny came into the place ; Who when I did see , there 's no man cou'd be Ever so took with a face . 2. But when at a Ball I saw pretty Mall , Methoughts she tript it so fine , I felt such a smart , that I us'd all my art By presents to make her mine . 3. This lasted a day , until at a Play I saw my beautiful Jone ; Which made me to think I was just at the brink Of marriage with her or none . 4. This humour did last until I did cast My eyes on my pretty fine Kate ; My heart was so caught , that I verily thought She should have been my Mate . 5. But after a while , I seeing the smile Of my dear bonny sweet Betty ; Which made me to start , that I thought in my heart That none cou'd ere be so pretty . 6. But being a Guest at a Wedding-feast , I there sweet Susan espide ; And truth for to tell , I likt her so well , I thought to a made her my Bride . 7. But after a day , at a place where I lay , I chanc'd fair Nelly to see ; That I never was so in love with a Lass , She was so airy and free . 8. But yet for all this , I soon left that Miss , When I heard sweet Abigail's voice ; She tril'd it so well , I then 'gan to smell That here I should make my choice . 9. And this did remain for a day or twain , Till I heard fair Dolly to play So well on the Lute , I then 'gan my sute For marriage with her the next day . 10. Fair Hester at last had my heart so fast , I resolv'd to make her my own ; But a little after I handsomely left her , For my humour of love was gone . 11. Yet I never will grieve , for I still do believe I 've a Mistriss yet to come ; Or else I must say , I 'm in love ev'ry day ; But I cannot tell with whom . A new SONG . 1. LEt 's strive to improve our Talent of Love , 'T is that which can give us content ; We 'll banish those fears that usher in cares , And give to our Pleasures a vent . 2. And when we begin to be stupid within , We 'll march to the Tavern amain : For a cup of good Sack will supply what we lack , And restore us to Pleasures again . 3. For Sorrow and Care does but bring in despair , And makes us like Drones to sit ; But Cupid and Bacchus will every day make us Masters of Pleasure and Wit. A new SONG . 1. PRethee , Caelia , tell me why Thou 'st been so strange of late ? What Object now has took thy eye , That I am thus so soon laid by , As one that 's out of date ? 2. Thou knowst my kindness still was such , As none cou'd ere be more . And which is now in Gallants much , I in my promise still kept touch , Which no man did before . 3. Is it because thou lov'st to range And take thy swing about ? If it be so , methinks 't is strange That any one a friend should change For one o' th' common Rout. 4. Or else dost think my Fortune lean , And cannot entertain Thee in a handsome Miss-like mean ? ( Though I confess 't is often seen ) Faith , Caelia , this is vain . 5. But if 't be Pride , then Caelia , know I gave thee thy renown , And made thy Infant-fortunes grow , When thou were 't in esteem so low , Thy name was scarcely known . 6. Had not my Pen advanc'd thy fame , and gave it wings to flye , thou d'st been as one without a name , And in thy Reputation lame To every vulgar eye . 7. Then , Celia , since I 've made thee great , I 'll take thee down agen , And make thy Glories so retreat , That all shall take thee for a Cheat , And where 's poor Celia then ? 8. Thus art thou brought , by foolish pride , Into this low estate ; Hadst thou been kind , thou hadst me ti'd To make thee at the last my Bride : But , Celia , now't's too late . A new Song : The Tune is , Mr. Staggins his Minuit which he made for the Ball at Whitehal , 1673. 1. GOne is my Dearest , she I so admired ; Never was man so dejected before : She so much Beauty had , all hearts she fired ; No one cou'd ever be Mistriss of more . But when her charming Eyes Once let their glances flie , None cou'd withstand 'em , but all fell in love . Nay , some did think she was Clad in that humane dress , And by the Gods sent down from above . 2. And though so fair she was , never did woman Wear so much modesty still in her face ; And of so great a Wit , that it was common Still to deliver her words with a grace . But when her Lute she took , She on't so sweetly strook , Never did Mortals such harmony hear ; We thought the Heavenly Quire All met and fixt in her , And then did wish our selves nothing but ear . 3. Then welcome Sadness , and farewel all Pleasure , Nothing is left for me now but despair ; And of the Gods I beg some little leisure Onely to shed on her Grave a sad tear ; And there deplore the fate Of my dear peerless Mate . That after-ages may give her her due , Also I beg to have This Motto on my Grave , Never , O never died Lover so true . A new SONG . The Tune is , The Duke of Lorains March. 1. ROuse up , Boys ; Ease destroys Every martial wight : Then arm apace , the Foes increase , And all prepar'd to fight . Tantarara , tantarara , The Trumpets sound amain ; Then let 's away to win the day , That every one may honour gain . 2. It is decreed , Delay does breed Danger still in War ; Then let us go to meet the Foe , Before they advance too far . Dub a dub a dub , Dub a dub a dub ; The Drums a Charge do beat : Then let us fight from morn till night , Until we make 'em all retreat . 3. And all that can , must charge i' th' Van , Until you 've broke their Rank ; If'twill not do , then you must go And charge 'em in the Flank . And then you must be sure , Boys , To charge 'em in the Rear , Until they flie ; then you must cry , Away they run , they run for fear . 4. When that is done , and Field is won , The Plunder is your own ; The Spoils in War , most lawful are , To every man 't is known . And then you may with freedom , Boys , Drink and take your ease ; Or with a Miss to court and kiss , As you your fancy mean to please . A SONG . To which , the two last Verses were lately added . 1. NO scornful Beauty ere shall boast She made me love in vain ; Those men are fools , who once are crost , If ere they love again . To whine and pine , I never can , And tell you I must die ; It is so much beneath a man , I 'll never do 't , not I. 2. Perhaps some puling fool may weep , And court her with a Tear ; And at her footstool cringe and creep , And idolize her there . Such Coxcombs do deserve to be Inslav'd by women still . My Soul 's too great for any she , To captivate my will. 3. Would men be rul'd by me , we 'd make Those scornful things recant , And should from us their measures take , What we are pleas'd to grant : For why should we be subject thus To things so much below us ? Preeminence belongs to us , 'T is they do duty owe us . A Song call'd , My Mistriss is all the Genders . The Tune , Shackle de Hay . 1. ANd first she 's counted Masculine , Because she 's a Virago , And born at th' Indies under th' Line , At the Island call'd Tobago ; Where she has deceiv'd full many a man , That they from her have quiv'ring ran , As if they had an Ago . 2. Another call'd her Feminine , And swore she of that Sex is , ' Cause in her book they 'd interline , They never use Indexes : For turn unto what place you will , You 'll always find it open still , Which never man perplexes . 3. Then I heard another say , He thought she was a Neuter , Because there came the other day A Pupil and a Tutor : But unto neither she 'd incline , But unto both would singly joyn , That so they might recruit her . 4. Then I thought her the Common of Two , From the Couple last was there , Sir , And to her Parents gave their due , As hic & haec did swear , Sir. But if that she be common to two , She 'll ne'r be true to me nor you ; And therefore have a care , Sir. 5. Then I thought her the Common of Three , Hic , haec , & hoc being with her ; And foelix , O happy was he Did catch 'em altogether . And if that she be common to three , She 'll ne'r be true to you nor me , Nor constant unto either . 6. Then I thought , and so wou'd you , She was of the Doubtful Gender ; For hic vel haec , and dies too , Did day by day attend her . And o' th' Doubtful Gender if she be , She 'll doubtful be to you and me , Although we do befriend her . 7. And after we had scan'd her faults , We found her much obsceanea ; And set a period to our thoughts , To call her Epicaena , Both he and she , Hermaphrodite ; And Aquila did say she was right , And call'd her pocky Queana . 8. Thus have I shew'd my Mistriss t' ye , Both Feminine , Mas , and Neuter , Nay , Common of Two , and Common of Three , And Doubtful to her Suiter . And Epicaene we may her call , Because she swears she owns 'em all , There 's none that can confute her . My Mistriss understands all the Cases . To the same Tune . 1. MY Mistriss she hath Policie , There 's none can undermine her : For underneath her self she 'll lie , Yet I will not define her . She all mens Cases makes her own , ' Cause she 's to all their Cases known ; And therefore I 'll decline her . 2. And first , she is a Nominative , ' Cause she declineth Nomen ; And in the act Hominative , Denies not Knights nor Yeomen . Nay , she can name 'em all at large , That ere sail'd within her Barge , Whether they be tall or low men . 3. Next , I call her Genitive , ' Cause she 's for Procreation ; And she does use a Lenitive , As a help to Generation . Nay , she 's for getting all she can From every stout begetting man , The best in all the Nation . 4. Then a Dative she is known , From Do that was her Founder ; And before you quick falls down As flat as any Flounder : But whatsoever she doth give , She ten times more doth still receive ; Which seems to me a wonder . 5. I then Accusative her call , Whenever they neglect her : For she will curse and blame 'em all , Because they do reject her . But when her blaming fit is ore , You then may enter Portal-door , And calls you her Protector . 6. Nay , all do call her Vocative , Because sh 'as a Vocation , And has an art provocative , To invite 'em to her Station . But when they offer to go away , Then O she cries , Whoop Holiday , Let 's use Conglutination . 7. Last I call her Ablative , Because she 's always taking ; And though her Suiters much do give , Yet she ll be always raking : For in , with , through , for , by , and than , Are the signes by which she knows the man Must set her Oven a baking . 8. Thus from the first to the Ablative , You see she knows the way , Sir : For when I met her at Bablick-hive Near Oxford , she did say , Sir , That she had a Case for every man , And put him to 't , do what he can , And still will hold him play , Sir. A new Song , to the new Jig-tune . 1. MY Nanny , quoth he : Why Janny , quoth she , Your will , Sir ? I love thee , quoth he : If you love me , quoth she , Do so still , Sir. I 'd gi' thee , quoth he : Wou'd you gi' me , quoth she , But what , Sir ? Why some Money , quoth he : O some Money , quoth she ? Let me ha 't , Sir. 2. I 'd ha' thee , quoth he : Wou'd you ha' me , quoth she ? But where , Sir ? To my Chamber , quoth he : To your Chamber , quoth she ? Why there , Sir ? I 'd kiss thee , quoth he : Wou'd you kiss me , quoth she ? But when , Sir ? Why now , quoth he : Neither now , quoth she , Nor then , Sir. 3. I 'd hug thee , quoth he : Wou'd you hug me , quoth she ? How much , Sir ? Why a little , quoth he : 'T is a little , quoth she ; Not a touch , Sir. I am fickish , quoth he : are you sickish , quoth she ? But why , Sir ? ' Cause you slight me , quoth he : Do I slight you , quoth she ? 'T is a lye , Sir. 4. I 'm dying , quoth he : O , dying , quoth she ! Are you sure on 't ? 'T is certain , quoth he : Is 't certain , quoth she ? There 's no cure on 't . Then farewel , quoth he : I and farewel , quoth she , My true Love. I am going , quoth he : So am I too , quoth she , To a new Love. A Song on the Declensions . The Tune , Shackle de Hay . 1. MY Mistriss she is fully known To all the five Declensions ; She 'll searce them singly one by one , And take their true Dimensions . She ne'r declin'd yet any man , Yet they 'll decline her now and than , In spight of her Inventions . 2. First , Musa is her Mothers name , And haec does still attend her ; She is a hujus burly Dame , Though huic be but slender . Yet she 'll have a hanc on every man , And put 'em to 't , do what they can , Unless they do befriend her . 3. Magister is her Master too , And hic is still his Man , Sir ; And filius is her Son also . And dominus is her Grandfire . Nay , lucus , agnus , and that Lamb-like Crew , She 'll call 'em hunc's , and haec's 'um too , Do all that ere they can , Sir. 4. Next , she 's to lapis very kind , As honest hic has said , Sir : For she 's to precious stones inclin'd , Long before she was wed , Sir. Which made her Parents often say , That hic and haec both night and day Was forc'd to watch her Bed , Sir. 5. She beat poor manus with a Cane , Though he did often hand her From Whetstones-Park and Parkers-lane , And was her constant Pander . Yet give him manibusses when That she cou'd get no other men , That he cou'd notwithstand her . 6. 'Bout Noon she 'd with meridies dine , And sup , and bed him too , Sir. She 'd make poor facies to her incline , In spight of all he cou'd do , Sir. She day by day would dies pledge ; Which set poor acies tooth an edge , And often made him spew , Sir. 7. Thus have I shew'd her kindness here , And all her dear Relations ; As musa , lapis , magister , And all their antick fashions . Meridies , manus , and foelix too , Had happy been , had they ne'r knew Any of all her Stations . The COMPARISONS . The Tune , And 't is the Knave of Clubs bears all the Sway. 1. MY Mistriss she loves Dignities ; For she has taken three Degrees . There 's no Comparison to be made With her in all her subtle Trade : For Audax boldly said unto her , Y' are positively known a Whore. 2. And first , I Positive her call , ' Cause she 'll be absolute in all : For she is still to durus hard , And often with sweet dulcis jarr'd ; Which made kind tristis very sad , To see poor pauper us'd so bad . 3. Next , she is call'd Comparative , ' Cause she 'll compare with any alive In all the illiberal Sciences , Which she has learned by Degrees . Nay , was more hard to durior , Than all the rest o' th' Crew before . 4. Last , I Superlative her call , ' Cause she 'll be uppermost of all . And yet although she was so high , Lov'd underneath her self to lie ; And us'd durissimus , I hear , The hard'st of all , when he came there . 5. Thus have I t' ye my Mistriss shown , How she is positively known ; And Comparatively too , She did outlearn the rest o' th' Crew . And of her being Superlative , ' Cause she 'd be highest of all alive . Of the Five kinds of Verbs . THe Verbs a Battle had of late , they say , Which did consist of five Regiments that day . The first was call'd the Active ; and they were The activ'st men of any that were there . And Amo was their chief Commander then , Who said , I love ye , ' cause y' are gallant men . And Coronel Amo , with his active Crew , Did lead the Van , which was indeed their due . Next was the Passive , which was thought the best , Because they suffered more than all the rest : For those that in a Fight do suffer most , Are thought the bravest men , though some are lost . And noble Amor did command in chief That gallant Regiment , though to his grief : For Amo onely says , I love ; But I , Amor , am loved , so shall be till I die . The next Coronel that appear'd in fight , Was known to be an arrant Hypocrite ; Which was old Neuter : for he 'd sometimes make You to believe that he wou'd freely take Your part ; but t wou'd sometimes with curro run From one side to th' other : but being egg'd on To fight , then wou'd he have some slie trick , And with aegroto , say , I 'm very sick : And oftentimes wou'd give good words to either ; When truth to tell , he was indeed for neither . And being Neuter , he was new-turn'd out ; At which the whole Regiment did give a shout . Then the Commander of the fourth Regiment , Was one they call'd Monsieur Deponent : Which was for laying down as soon as chose , And was the first that endeavour'd to depose Himself from that Command ; and was Brother To Neuter , they were so like each other . He was indeed a Jack in a Box : for he Wou'd sometimes Active and then Passive be . When Active , then must loquor verbum speak A word in his behalf , his mind to break : But when Passive , and then did suffer most , Yet wou'd he still with glorior vaunt and boast . Nay , their two Regiments did them so handle , They both went out like a snuff of Candle . The first Regiment was commanded by One Communis of th' others Fraternity . And though that he did always end in r , Just like a Passive , yet would he always car ' A fair outside to amo ; and so free , As to say to him , Osculor te , I kiss thee : But when amor came , then who but he , Saying , Osculor à te , I 'm kissed of thee . Thus to conclude , and the truth to tell , Had these three Regiments done their duty well , There had been an end of that mortal Fray Much sooner than it was , as many say . Then my advice is , shou'd they fight agen , To chuse for Coronels some other men . And like him , 't is very Common to protest Kindness to one , when we mean nothing less . The MOODS . THe Battle of the Verbs being fully known , And their Regiments describ'd one by one , The Moods intend , it seems , to let us know The cause o' th' Quarrel , and the manner how . The Indicative being the Primier Mood , The rest of them then did think it good To let him speak , as being Secretory , And therefore being fitt'st to tell the story ; Dear Brethren , says he , I must tell ye , They were deceiv'd by fallo's Son , fefelli , Who was employ'd by all the Verbs about it , And he deceiv'd 'em , else they had not fought it . And the chief cause indeed was , as I hear , From some anomalous Verbs that were there ; Who are Verbs always out of rule , and so Not to be rul'd by any man , you know : As possum , volo , nolo , malo , and Edo , fero , ( who then was in command ; ) And 's unde feror too , and all the rest Of that tumultuous Crew , said 't was best To fight it out . Says possum , I may or can , Nay , am able to fight with any man. Says volo , I am willing to side with you , And will participate in what you do . Nolo said , He was unwilling to have peace : And malo was more willing than all these To fight . Says edo , I 'll eat my way through 'um ; That 's the ready way , says one , to undo ' um . But fero was more fierce than all : for he Said , he 'd bear or suffer any thing , than flee . Says ferro , I 've born and suffer'd more than all , And in your Cause resolve to stand or fall . Says fio , How came this to be made or done ? Then all fall on him , every Mothers son . So some took one side , and others t'other , Until they 'd near destroy'd one another . This being spoke , they all were at a stand : Then says th' Imperative , I do command Silence among ye all ; and bid ye too , Strictly to observe what I shall say or do : For he was one that was imperious , And never spoke in other manner , but thus : Saying , Had I been there , I 'd a charg'd 'em all To cease from fighting , or have made 'em fall By my imperious hand : for let me but say , Ama , amato , love thou , and they all obey ; Or pugnate , pugnatote , fight ye , And if ye do well , then I will knight ye . Thus my being absent , caus'd the fight that day ; None knew how to command , nor none to obey . He having finisht his discourse , up starts The Optative , who wisht that all their hearts Had been as his , then th 'had not fought that day : For he and 's Foreman utinam ran away . And though the Imperative had the greatest command , Yet he of Tenses had five to one at hand More than t'other ; and was no good House-holder , As being so great a wisher and a woulder . For all good Prayers he did never want ; As , I would God , I pray God , and God grant . And that there might be no more hatred , he 'd say , Vtinam amem , God grant I love alway ; Which is the onely way to keep 's in peace . And having so spoke , his Speech did cease . The Potential then stood up , and to 'em said , Next to the Imperative , he 'd be obey'd : For though he had indeed the chief command , Yet he was more mighty both in Goods and Land ; As may be seen by the Signes at his door , When others have but one , yet he has six more ; As may , can , might , could , would , should , or ought ; Which unto this Potency has him brought : And cou'd say amem , I may or can love , Or let it alone : for he wou'd still move In his own Sphere ; and never wou'd quarrel , But relieve the needy , and those that are ill : Saying , I may or do what I please herein ; But 't is best not fight , but sleep in a whole skin . The Subjunctive then began to tell his Tale ; But when he striv'd to do 't alone , wou'd fail , But must be forc'd to take a Conjunction To joyn with him , or not use his Function : For the Subjunctive , if the truth were known , Is but the Adjectives Bastard : for alone They can't stand in Reason or Signification , But must have a word joyn'd to keep the sence warm , And stick like a Gizzard still under each arm . The Subjunctive then at last did declare , He wou'd be subject to any thing else but War. The Infinitive then to end the Debate , Said , Of all the Verbs he did participate ; And also he cou'd do , suffer , or be What he pleas'd within 's own Seigniorie ; And was inferiour unto none Of the Moods , but of himself cou'd stand alone : For I can force amare to love my Daughter , And amaturum esse , to love hereafter ; And amandum and amatum , to love also ; And amatu , to be belov'd whe'r he will or no. And likewise can command docturum esse , To teach hereafter my Daugher Besse . Nay , I cou'd shew you an Infinite more ; But for brevities sake , I now give ore , And do infinitely desire there may be No more of fighting , if you 'll be rul'd by me , Of the TENSES . THe Tenses they being Servants to the Moods , They call'd 'em to account about those Feuds . The Present Tense did first himself present , ( And truth to say , he did those times lament ) He presently then told them all , That they Cou'd never think him guilty of that Fray : For he vow'd , Had he been present when 't was done , He wou'd have been the first that shou'd a run : For who knows better to get out of Bands , When Times and Seasons are all in our hands ? The Preterimperfect Tense did then appear ; But was imperfect in 's relation there : For though his time was not perfectly past , He confest that with amabam he did love at last ; But loving not then , they told him 't was a fault , And was the cause that all that trouble was wrought . He vow'd he was not there at that same time When 't began ; so not guilty of that crime . The Preterperfect Tense then began to plead , Protesting himself innocent of that deed : For though his time was perfectly past , yet he Said , I have lov'd amavi ferventlie ; For he and I do all such Quarrels shun , And never heard o' th' Battle , until 't was done . The Preterpluperfect then was call'd in , And brought amaveram with him , who had bin His long and constant friend , who said , Though their time Were more than perfectly past , yet that crime Cou'd not be laid to their charge , ' cause that they Had lov'd one another many a day . And will do 't still with leave o' th' Future Tense , That they got great applause when they went thence . The Future Tense at last was called in , Who plainly told 'em , If he had guilty bin Of such a thing , he deserv'd to be blam'd : But yet , say they , methinks y' are not asham'd To confess you did not love . No , says he , I did not : for that can be no fault in me ; For an Astrologer told me once at home , That my time of loving was not yet come : And likewise told me , that amabo and I , Shall or will love most certainly . Then all the Court remov'd , and did pray They ne'r might see such another day . On the Squibs and Crackers thrown on the Lord Mayors day . 'T Was just the day 'fore twenty ten Of dull October , being then The Lord Mayors show , or eke his day , So call'd by th' Vulgar , as they say : I speak not of that glorious Crew That past us by in open view ; As first , the Companies several , Belonging to each others Hall , All clad in black , with half red Tippit , Who on their Petitoes did trip it . Nor of those Velvet-coats so black , With Chains of gold hung on their back ; Nor of that Teem of Scarlet-Riders , Who of the City-wards are Guiders ; Nor of the Troops and Horses fairness , Whose Masters all were clad in Harness , Whose Officers Coats bedecked were With Gold embroider'd every where ; Nor the Foot , with Bagpipe , Fife , and Drum , Who thither with the rest did come For to attend our Soveraign , ( Whom God preserve with all his Train ; ) Nor of those gallant Princely Coaches , To all I gave a Bonos noches : But of those Gallants Treat I do , That were Spectators of that Show ; Who there were placed in Balconies , ' Mongst which were many antient Cronies , And Ladies young : who all there stood , I can't say sit , they wisht they cou'd : For in the twinkling of an eye , Such Squibs and Crackers then did flie In such a horrid fiery fashion , It forc'd them all to change their station , Lest it should burn their Garments gay , Which borrowed were perhaps that day . They chiefly flew , like Whirligigs , On curled Hair and Perriwigs : Nothing escap'd them , they were so set , That all was Fish that came to Net. A couple came that day to see And to be seen , in all their braverie : And drest they were most finically , That all shou'd note that stood them by . In striped Mantua's they were drest , Of all colours i' th' Rainbow , I protest . And both were in Balcony set , Thinking their gayness then so great , That none wou'd venture their Squibs to fling At them ( being as fine as any thing . ) The Squibs and Cracker-men below Observing what they did , and how Confident they were that none would throw , And being intent about the Show , Some ten of them together flung , Which did directly light among Those which in that Balcony sate , Which made them stir , but 't was too late : And 'fore they cou'd remove their station , Up came ten more i' the same fashion ; Which quickly burnt their curled Hair , Their Hoods and Scarfs , and all was there ; Their Rain-bow-colour'd Cloths , I find , Were all burnt both before and behind ; And left 'em in most woful cases : For 't scorcht the Patches on their faces . They were so claw'd , that one did swear They both like Gipsies did appear . Though they came in in merry posture , Yet when went out , their eyes were moister . Though they at fore-door did come in , Yet they at back-door went out agin : And forc'd were t' go to their old Stallion , Being al-a-mode de Taterdemallion . Also a Lord ; but the Lord knows who It was : for it burnt his Breeches too , His Velvet-coat , Perriwig , and Hat , And also his richly lac'd Cravat . Nay , they from Windows scarce cou'd peep , But suddenly were forc'd to creep Back again , or those Ladies fair Were sure to burn their Hoods and Hair. No Gowns nor Whisks did then escape : For on Petticoats they made a Rape ; Not on those that were a top alone , But below too , they were so sawcy grown . Another , it seems , then to secure A pretty Lady , did then endure A hot Contest : but by his leave , It quickly burnt his Half-shirt-sleeve . The Author catcht one in 's hand a top , And flung't in 's face that threw it up , To keep 't from them that were above : But by his favour , it burnt his Glove . Last I advise , if any chance to go Agen to see the Lord Mayors Show , They must not in Balconies stand , Or any place that 's low at hand ; But i' th' Garret , or the Leads a top : For that 's too high to fling 'em up . A Song , to the Tune of Thomas I cannot . 1. COme , my Molly , let us be jolly , Now we are both come hither ; Thy Mother 's from home , and we are alone , Then let us be merry together . I 'll give thee some Rings and Bracelets fine , And other Trinkets , if thou wilt be mine . In truth , good Sir , I dare not incline ; My Mother does tell me I munnot , I munnot , My Mother does tell me I munnot . 2. Thou sha't have a Gown of the vinest zilk , The like was never zeena ; Thou sha't ha the Cream of all the Milk Of the Cows that go on the Greena , To make thee some Curds and Cheescakes store , And Custards too , all sugar'd ore . I pray you , good Sir , now say no more ; My Mother does tell me I munnot , &c. 3. Thy Wastcoat shall be of Scarlet too , With Ribonds tyed together : Thy Stockins shall be of a Bow-died hue , And thy shoes of Spanish Leather . And upon each Shoe a silken Knot For to set out thy delicate foot . In truth , good Sir , I dare not do 't ; My Mother does tell me , &c. 4. Thy Petticoat shall be of Sey , The best in all the Towna ; And thou shalt wear it every day , And zo thou shalt thy Gowna . Thy Smock shall be of Holland fine , If thou in love with me wo't joyn . In truth , good Sir , I dare not combine ; My Mother does tell me , &c. 5. I 'll feof thee in a Copy-hold Of Forty pound a yeara ; And I ha Twonty pound in Gold Will serve to make good Cheara . O no , you men , I know ye too well , But give you an inch , and you 'll take an ell , And when you have done , you Tales will tell . In truth , good Sir , I munnot , I munnot ; My Mother does tell me I munnot . 6. Why then , my Molly , here I vow My Lips shall still be sealed , And whatsoever we do now , Shall never be revealed . With one sweet Kiss we 'll seal the same ; Deny me but this , you are to blame . O this Kiss doth so inflame , I cannot hold out a minit , a minit ; I cannot hold out a minit . A SONG . The Tune , My Dame Joan hath pawn'd her Kittle . 1. CLear up those stormy Brows , and teach My weak and wadling Love to go : Who makes 'twixt Infant-loves a breach , Sure is no stout nor gallant foe . Prethee let us prove , that Cupid is above The firm Votes of immortal Fate : Though a Child he be , let Malice see That Love is stronger far than Hate . 2. Then be no longer fondly coy ; Death 's here more welcome than delay . Love is a nimble sprightly Boy , And hath swift wings , the Poets say . Let 's lose no time , 't is a capital crime ; None sins in Love like him that 's slow . If I wanton be , pray pardon me ; Love's a Child , and Children will be so . 3. My Senses call me dull , and blame My calmness , that thus pleading stands . Come , your Mother she did do the same ; Yield , or I must lay violent hands . For shall I spare one , such a Rape hath done , And violence on my Soul hath lain ? And why should she thus ravish me , And I not ravish her again ? 4. Why this stir ? why this denying ? This pish , pish , Groper , stand away ? Why this proud and coy denying , ' Cause I there my hand did lay ? I did grope , 't is true ; but in love sure you Will count it no offence , I hope . If the cause you 'll find , know Love is blind ; And they that cannot see , must grope . A Mock-Song to Come my Daphne . Man. COme , my durty Pug , away ; What the Pox d' ye mean to say ? Wom. 'T is Rowland calls ; what wou'd my Swine ? Man. Come up , you Whore , 't is time to dine , Where Vulcan shall provide A Whip to claw your hide . Wom. Were I shut up within a Jail , 'T is Rowland he must be my Bail. Man. You lazy Whore , make hast , The Meat at fire doth wast . In the burning Fountain I Must for ever live and die ; And on thy mangy bosom stray , Would fright , would fright , Would fright the Devil away . Chorus . We 'll howl and weep , and ne'r give ore , Because the Fiends do see , do see The cursed glee 'Twixt thee and me ; But never will deplore My sad , but fatal Destinie . Another Drunken Mock to Come my Daphne . T. COme , my Bully-rock , away ; We do wast this drinking day . R. 'T is Roger calls : What news , you Sot ? T. Come see , you Rogue , what I have got : For Bacchus still provides Brisk Wine to stuff our Hides . R. Were I shut up in Cellar deep , I 'd first be drunk before I 'd sleep . T. Ye lazy Rogue , make hast , The Wine will spoil and wast . R. With good Sack and Claret I Will for ever live and die : And from Bung-hole ne'r will stray , Till thee and I have suckt it quite away . Chorus . We 'll drink and sleep , and then we 'll snore , That Bacchus he May dayly see The Bubbing Glee 'Twixt thee and mee ; But never will give ore , Whilst we good Sack or Claret see . The Wooing Gallant . A SONG . 1. COme hither my dearest , come hither to me , And I will be so loving to thee , As never was man before . Then gi' me thy heart , and thou sha't a mine : For if I may be certain of thine , I 'll never desire no more . Then unto my house we 'll trip it away , And fit and provide for the Wedding-day . We 'll dance and we 'll sing , And the Bells shall ring , And the Fidlers round about us shall play . 2. Thy Body with rich Apparel I 'll deck , And round about thy Ivory Neck I 'll place a Chain of Pearl , So round and so fair , so fine and so neat , That every one that chances to see 't , Will say thou' rt a lovely Girl . Then be not so coy , but come away , And I 'll embrace thee both night and day : For I vow and I swear Thou shalt be my Dear , And merrily we will sing and play . 3. The Girl she stood off , and smiling said , I fear you mean to betray a Maid That never did love before : For men will dissemble , and cog , and lye , And swear they love you faithfully , When they have another in store . But if that you mean to be faithful and true , And that I should be so to you , Be loving and kind , And change not your mind , Or else for evermore adieu . Vpon the taking down of the Kings Arms at Oxford , in the time of the Rump , viz. 1649. who instead of plucking down them on the Gate of the Physick-Garden in Oxford , they were such excellent Heralds , that they pluckt down the Earl of Danby's Arms , who was the Founder there . IN Sixteen hundred forty nine , When Cavaliers were forc'd to dine At Duke Humfrey's Table still ; ( But 't was , poor hearts ! against their will ) A dismal time when Rump did fart ye A thousand cracks ' gainst Royal Partie ; And when Kings Arms were plucking down In every City and in Town . In Oxford-City there 's a place Call'd Physick-Garden , a little space From Colledge Magdalen doth stand , Well known to many in this Land. From Maudling-bridge it stands North-west , So that must be from it South-east . This is so plain , you cannot miss it , That when y' are there , you 'll say this is it . The Walls that do surround this place , And noble Gate which doth it grace , And all the Land within the same , For evermore will bear the name , As being the particular Bount - Ty of that noble Northern Count , Who to 's Prince to th' last did stand by , Call'd Henricus Comes Danby . This Gift , I say , was onely his , ( For which no doubt he is in Bliss ) Unto the poor University , Made so by th' Rump , the more 's the pity . And first of all this Rumpish Crew That then did there appear in view , With others that he thither brought For to destroy , as then they thought , Their Princes Arms , was a Colonel , Who indeed was a Preacher , as well As Souldier ; and so he began Then to preach to every man His Rumpish Doctrine , and so bid Them be valiant : and what they did , He wou'd secure both great and small By an Ordinance from his Masters all . An Ordinance it might be call'd , ( Which oft the Cavaliers have maul'd ) By thundring of us out a Town , From Post to Pillar up and down . But name of Act it cannot bear , Yet 't was the Cornel's Act , I 'll swear . And with the Cornel there did go His Lieutenant-Colonel also ; And Major too , and Captains store , And Ensigns and Lieutenants more . And of the County-Committee There were about the number three , With others at the Colonels call ; I think there was the Devil and all . But now comes out a pleasant Tale ( If my memory do not fail ) Which in Oxford is very rife In every mouth , and true on my life : On the right hand of that brave Gate Were Kings Arms plac'd in handsome state , And likewise Crown and Garter too , As 'bout the Arms they use to do . O' th' left hand was the Founders Arms , Bold Danvers , who with loud Alarms The Irish Rebels conquer'd so , In little time he had no Foe To wreak his Valour on ; whose fame Was spread abroad , that 's very name Would scatter all that Kernish Crew ; But Danvers cry , away they flew . And before he came from thence , Forc'd 'em to own their natural Prince . For which important service done , ( By way of Retaliation ) King James with Title then did greet him Of Baron Danvers ; which did meet him 'Fore he came to kiss his hand . And 's Son Charles the first , for other service done , Did Earl of Danby him create , And Knight o' th' Garter , ( Honours great ! ) Yet none for him too great was thought , Who for his Prince so bravely fought : So that by this I 'd have you note , He had the Garter round his Coat , And Coronet also : which did make Among our Heroes that great mistake , Which made for what I do intend , ( And then I 'll draw unto an end . ) These gallant new-made Gentlemen ( With the Country-Committee then ) And others of that new-dub'd Crew , When both these Coats they chanc'd to view , Like wise men , did with one accord Command the Arms of this brave Lord To be pull'd down instead o' th' Kings : And so they flew , as 't were with wings , For to pull down , as they thought , His Majesties most Royal Coat . Sure of Senses they were bereft , Not to know right hand from the left . That they were Scholars , you can't deny , ' Cause in the University ; And wonder 't was what Heraldry then Was 'mong our Rumpish Gentlemen . Or were they at that time afraid To touch that Princely Coat ? They laid Not violent hands upon it then ; But I remember the time when They durst attack , as well as Crown , His sacred Person too , 't is known . Sure Providence did cast a mist 'Fore the Cor'nels eyes , and all the rest , That they cou'd not see that very day ( ' Cause their chief Light 's within , they say . ) If so , then 't was Prophetick sure , That they should onely then obscure , And for a time to cloud the Crown , But for their lives not pull it down . Though th' Officers so little knew , And Gentlemen of that great Crew , What did belong to Arms ; 't is strange The Souldiers that did use to range Themselves each day in Rank and File , ( And many times their Arms recoil . ) And then the chief word of Command Was , Stand to your Arms , to every Band ; Which they being often us'd to do , Made 'em let the Kings Arms stand too . Then after this in Merriment , They all unto the Tavern went , To congratulate each others act , And all to own that prudent fact . There were some twenty Officers , With Committee-men , Friends of theirs ; So that there were 'bout thirty two Of this most Solomon-like Crew : Who had at last four pints of Sack ' Mongst them all to strengthen the back . And though they wou'd not wench , nor swear , Yet you see drink hard when they came there . Nay , that they might seem more profuse , ( Which was indeed their common use ) In half-pint-pots 't was still brought up ; But yet before they 'd touch the cup , With Hat in hand wou'd Blessing crave , Lest poison'd by a Cavalier Knave . And as they thus sate carousing , In comes a bold fellow , using Great Reverence to that learned Gang , Saying , They were better to hang Than keep : And having a pint of Sack In his hand , he like a mad Hack , Drank the Kings health , and then threw The Pot among that Spendthrift Crew , Saying , Pox take ye all ; and then flew Down Stairs , without bidding 'em adieu . Though they command Kings Arms pull down , Yet still hung up some of their own : Which did prognosticate , I say , Their Arms shou'd first hang up ; they , they . We were so far from putting down Their Arms , we set 'em up in Town . Nay , they were so highly grac'd , That ore the Kings Arms they were plac'd On every Gate about the City ; Not sooner done , the more 's the pity . The Rump their Juglings so did handle , They all went out like Snuff of Candle . And those who bought King or Bishops Lands , At the happy Change , had their hands Eas'd of all that mighty trouble , After they 'd brought the Rents to double . So may they all be serv'd , that persists Not in heart and voice true Royalists : And also those that do repine At this our Change ; which by divine Hand was then so brought about , To scatter all that cursed Rout Who had deserv'd it long before , For Cruelty , but Treason more . A Mock-Song to Cellamina : And to that Tune . 1. MAll , I ne'r yet knew thy mind ; Once agen I 'll prove thee : If thou wilt but be so kind To kiss me twice or thrice behind , Faith I 'll ever love thee . 2. Tom , I 'm ignorant , I vow , Which way to come to it ; But if you the way will show , First kiss mine , then I shall know The better how to do it . 3. We 'll draw Cuts then if thou wo't , Now within this minnit ; And when we have drawn the Lot , Those that have the shortest Cut , They shall then begin it . 4. Hang your Cuts ; do you begin't ; You 're the first did move it : And when I see you do 't in print , Sure you 'll think the Devil 's in 't , Should I not approve it . Iter Occidentale : or , a Western Voyage from the Old Exchange to the Gridiron near Charing-cross in the Strand ; and perform'd by five Gentlemen , Nov. 5. 1673. THough Squibs and Crackers thick did flie On Lord Mayors day , like Snow in Skie ; But yet upon November Fift , There flew of them so great a drift , One scarce could pass along the street , But spight of teeth we did them meet . And now the reason you wou'd hear , Why this day 's kept so strict each year , As being Holiday , and why not , In memory of the Powder-plot . But let that pass , I now will treat The Adventures these half ten did meet : And coming into street call'd Cheap - Side some do adde , we saw a heap Of Ribble-rabble met together , That threw their Squibs they car'd not whither , That we , poor harmless Grigs , Cou'd scarcely save our Perriwigs : And I had then no more but one ; Had that been burnt , whoop , all was gone . I forc'd was use both hat and hand , To save my Wig and little Band. Though but through Lane or Corner turn'd , We did expect still to be burn'd . Nay , we were forc'd to skip i' th' Gutter , But quickly we from thence must flutter : For if y' are fixt in any place , Hey Boys , says they : then look t' your face . So that we still skipt up and down Like Morris-dancers in a Town . And besides this Rabble-rout , We there did see a Rope stretcht out , Which was on two Balconies fixt , With Bonfires two or three betwixt ; And then upon that dangling Rope We there did see a Rev'rend Pope , With Sword by 's side , and Crosier too , And Trident in his hand also , And eke his Pontificial Gown , And Miter too , with Triple-Crown All made of Cards : And being thus , Methoughts it was preposterous For Cards made for the hand , not head , Or I 'm like him in Faith misled . But now I think I 've found the knack , Why they of Cards his Crown did make , And on his head Card-miter wore , ' Cause he a Cardinal was before ; And his Supremacy arises By being the Head o' th' Cardinal Vices . But why a Trident in his hand ? My troth , it puts me to a stand , That he should Neptune's Right assume , Because 't is call'd the Sea of Rome : And so we find by this , that he Is Lord not o' th' Land alone , but Sea. Witness that annual throwing in A Ring into the Sea ; which long hath bin Continued by the Venetian State : And when first done , the Pope he sate I' th' Bucentaure triumphantlie , To wed that State unto the Sea : For had he not a Right unto 't , Why did he at that time then do 't ? But now I think upon it well , The Sea of Rome , we all can tell , Did overflow all Europe ore In former times ; but the British shore For this hundred and fifty year , Has put an ebb to 's flowing here . Besides all this , as some do say , He also had in 's hand a Key , With Boots and Spurs , as in a fright , To ride away that very night : And with 's Key , it seems , he meant To ope the City-gates as he went : For 's Keys the Gates do ope , we know , Of Heaven above , and Hell below . But for all that , such was his fate , To be that night unfortunate . The Squibs so pelted him , he swore He 'd never come to England more , If once he got away : and said , I now in my own Coyn am paid , For using Hereticks so bad , When I my Papal power had . All those that heard him then to say , That he 'd from England hast away , Him answer made in this same dress : Good riddance to your Holiness ; For we will never wholly be Addicted to your Roman Sea. Which made him fret and fume the more , That we were forc'd to give him ore , And left him in that angry vein ; Anon we 'll speak of him again . And so from thence we marcht away To Ludgate-street , there made a stay ; Where we espied another Object , That to the Pope is truest Subject ; And that 's a Cardinal , who there sate Triumphantly in Chair of State , With all things fine , and all things pat , And eke had there his Cardinals Hat , Which fixed was upon his head , Whose Gown and that were coloured . The Rabble there made Applications To him still in Squib-like fashions ; Which he did for an honour take Unto all Cardinals for his sake : And glad he was to England come , Saying , He was ne'r so serv'd at Rome . And when in this they grew bolder , Then he blest 'em ore the left shoulder , Saying , I give my Benedicite Unto all Hereticks ; but ye Especially shall not miss it , For this November-visit : For I 'm the Papal Nuncio here , And all is under my Paternal care . Nay , Beloved , I will assure ye , I can be angry too , yea , in fury ; But not with any here of you That honour me so in publick view . And had I known that you 'd a gave Such honour as to me you have Unto a Cardinal heretofore , I had sooner seen the English shore : But 't is not late to come at last , Since I so freely of it tast . When they had honour'd him so much , It seems they 'd have another touch ; And with another Card'nal went Round the City in merriment ; Whose Nose was very long indeed : No matter for that . But I 'll proceed : He Crosier had in 's hand , and Cross , And on mens shoulders did him toss ; Which does belong to Popes alone , But here to Cardinals 't is shown . He marcht in pomp through every street ; And every one that did him meet , When to adore cou'd not come nigh him , Did with their Crackers kindly ply him : Which he took kindly , and threw about His Arms , still blessing all the Rout. At last he fixed was in 's Station , And all 's Brethren i' th' same fashion , Fixed were in several places , Who boldly there did shew their faces . And though they Hereticks did us call , Yet coming before the Tribunal Of that great Rabble , they quickly found That they were Catholicks unsound , So Hereticks themselves , and had Committed Treason , which was sad . Nay , they the occasion were , they say , That this was made a Holy-day ; And so condemn'd them to the Flame , Though he with Long-nose smelt the same Long before : and therefore did advise Them both to be merry and wise ; And spoke to th' Pope , that he with 's Key Shou'd open them the ready way To steal from all this Rabble-rout As fast as ere they cou'd get out . But notwithstanding his advice Which he had urg'd unto 'em twice , They so infatuated were , They thought the Pope cou'd never erre : Which makes it certain , the Popes Chair Is not infallible every where . And after they condemned were , I do protest I did not hear One word from either that did plead In their own defence ; 't was strange indeed ! Nor did they rail , nor scold , nor cry , But took their deaths most patiently . Nay , they were so very meek , Not one ill word I heard 'em speak ; But thought those Flames to them a Glory , As being those of Purgatory ; And had no need of Pater-Nosters , Or Ave-Maries dirg'd in Cloisters , For to fetch their Souls from thence ; They thought that done when they went hence . That Lutherans now must think 't a story , That say there is no Purgatory . And now ye are convinc'd , I hope , To have a better love to th' Pope . They in that Flame so soon were burn'd , That they to ashes quickly turn'd . One askt why they were so cruel , To adde a flame unto the fewel Of that giddy Multitude , That then were so exceeding rude ? Said , For serving us i' th' same fashion , We do 't but by retaliation : They shew'd the way , we do but follow . Then all began to whoop and hallow . And then with many Squib-like flashes , They took their leave o' th' holy Ashes , Saying , Dear Father , we bid adieu For evermore to all your Crew . Thus have you heard the story true , O' th' death of three o' th' seventy two Cardinals : if so , then I find There 's but sixty nine left behind ; Which is too many by six times ten , And three times three , of such kind of men . And then we unto Fleet-street came , Where all the way we saw the flame Of numerous Bonfires for to light The Pope and 's Brothers to th' Grave that night . From thence to th' Strand we came amain , Where we did see so great a Train Of Bonfires that were so light , We did no Link-boys see that night : And they petition'd have , they say , That this Gunpowder-treason-day May not come oft ; for if it did , They were undone : which Jove forbid . For Rumpish Cornels two or three , Of Link-boys Hall have all been free ; Of Majors , and of Captains more , And eke Lieutenants greater store ; Of Ensignes and Cornets many indeed , Who had most colour for what they did . Who all , you see , were linkt together In that great Hall of wind and weather ; Who lighted all the Rumpish Gang To their Deserts , that is , to hang : Better destroy any Corporation Than that of Link-boys in this Nation : For we in darkness were before , And but for them , shou'd now be more , 'Bout which the Woodmongers and they Had hot contest about that day . The Link-boys beg'd it might be no more ; And t'other did desire good store : Which did consume their Billets and Faggots , Which else wou'd be destroy'd with Maggots ; They cou'd not vend the smallest heap , Because that Coals were then so cheap . And though we burn'd and broiled were , Throughout the streets every where ; Yet to th' Gridiron did we go , To make the Proverb good , you know , Out o' th' Frying-pan into th' Fire : But yet , according to our desire , We there did find a broiling for us ( Which quickly drove away our sorrows ) An excellent Fricacy of Rabbets , So finely done and cut in gobbets ; Good Sawce , with excellent Drink good store : In conscience we cou'd ask no more . Then home we went to cushy all , After this Papal Funeral . Dated on November Fift , you plainly see , A new SONG , To the Tune of The Flatteries of Fate . With the ANSWER . 1. I Always resolv'd to be from the Charms That Love with his Subtilty ere cou'd invent ; I laught at his Deity , scorn'd at the Harms That he cou'd inflict to abridge my content : But now I do find , Though the God he be blind , The Mark he has hit , and hath changed my mind . Though a Child thought he be , Yet his Manhood I see : For with one poor Shaft he hath conquered me . 2. I often before great Beauties did see With Charms in their Tongues , and Darts in their eyes , Who sought by their Wiles to intoxicate me ; But never till now they my heart cou'd surprize . But now I do see That a Slave I must be To that which has been a Servant to me : For the angry Gods Dart Hath so wounded my Heart , No Balm that 's applied but increaseth my smart . 3. Thus have you heard our Love in a Maze , This call'd a Labyrinth I ne'r could abide , Whose turnings and windings are so many ways , That none can get out , unless by a Guide . But my Guide is so coy , Though my Soul I employ To lie at her feet , yet my hopes she 'll destroy ; And rather than I Will keep touch with her eye To lie at her feet , I 'm resolved to die . The Answer to the last Song . And to that Tune . 1. I Pity thy Passion , Intoxicate Lover ! Can Venus's Philtres so prevalent be , That thou shouldst in a Phrensie thy weakness discover , And part with thy Manhood and Birthright so free ? Shall a purblind Boy Thy Courage destroy , And make thee submit like a Slave to a Toy ? Are a Females Eyes Such a notable Prize , As to offer thy Life for a Sacrifice ? 2. What is she some Angel , thou valuest her so ? Is a Goddess engrav'd on her heavenly Brow ? If she 's but a woman , then stoop not so low : For the woman was made for the man , you must know . Wil● thou stoop to the checks Of the Feminine Sex , That dayly does study poor Mortals to vex ? Our Grandfathers Bride Was took from his side , As intended to help him , but never to guide . 3. But if Reason must yield to effeminate fits , If Frenzy must rule , and our Senses be splaid , If a man must run mad , and abjure all his wits ; Then may he thus wretchedly doat on a Maid . If a courting I go , My pursuit should be so , I wou'd seem not to care whe'r I had her or no. That 's a lawful Trepan ; And if 't were but began , You 'll see 'em run whining and cry for a man. A SONG . With the ANSWER . 1. SInce you will needs my heart possess , 'T is just to you , I do confess The fault to whom 't is given : It is to change much more inclin'd Than Women , or the Sea , or Wind , Or ought that 's under Heaven . 2. The fair , the black , the gay , the sad , Which often makes me think 't was mad , With one kind look would win it . So natural it loves to range , That it hath left success for change ; And what 's worse , glories in it . 3. Often when I am laid to rest , It makes me act like one possest : For still 't will keep a puther . Though you alone I do esteem , Yet 't will make me in a dream Court and enjoy another . 4. Nor will I hide from you this truth , Which has been from my very Youth A most egregious Ranger : For since from me it often fled , With whom it was both born and bred , 'T will scarce stay with a Stranger . 5. But now , if you are not afraid , After these truths which I have said , To take this arrant Rover : Be not displeas'd , if I protest , I think the heart within my breast Will prove just such another . The ANSWER . 1. SInce , Sir , your heart will then away , Let that be gone which will not stay ; Yet I 'll the same be ever : With wandring Drake you then may range , And like unconstant Proteus change : For my part I will never . 2. But yet mistake me not , my mind Was never yet to Love inclin'd ; Much less to any Lover : For I resolved am to be Still constant to Unconstancie ; Which you 'll by this discover . 3. Methinks it is a pretty sport To see how Rivals do retort , And grin upon each other . A frown on this man makes him sad ; On that , doth make him raving mad ; A smile insnares another . 4. 'T is brave to hear such Gothams boast , And how each other they accost ; Of which some are for fighting : And some in corners do appear , A wishing for their Panders there And some are for inditing . 5. This , Sir , 's Loves Paradise , wherein Not a few parts have acted bin . Since there your heart 's a Ranger , It shall the honour have to pass , And bray there like a very Ass , And so shall not a stranger . A SONG call'd Francelia : With the ANSWER . To the Tune of Augusta . 1. FRancelia's heart is still the same , Cold and hard as Winters morning , Round her Love is ever burning ; Yet no sighs or tears can ever Yet no , &c. Warm her Ice , or cool my Fever . 2. So much I think and talk of her , That every Grove and Stream can name her ; All the Nimphs and Ecchos blame her . If she keeps her cruel fashion , If she keeps , &c. Onely Death can ease my Passion . 3. All the Arts that Lovers have , All the Vows and all the Anguish , All the looks with which I languish , Move not her to any feeling ; Move not , &c. Beauty takes delight in killing . The ANSWER . 1. FRancelia's heart is still the same , Kind and free to all embraces : Though variety of faces Dayly court her to obtain her , Dayly , &c. They can never , never gain her . 2. So much she thinks and talks of me , That every Room i' th' house proclaims it ; Nay , the babbling Eccho names it By a kind Reverberation , By a kind , &c. That she 's constant in her Passion . 3. All the Arts her Lovers use In their Presents , Vows , and Treatings , Still appear to be but Cheatings . Nought she says or does can please 'em , Nought , &c. Makes 'em wish for death to ease ' em . A Song set by Mr. Staggins . With the Answer . 1. WHy shou'd we ere Beauty fade , Slaves to Care and Age be made , Since our flying Youth can no more be had ? Where Love and Mirth do call , let 's go And crop new Joys each minute as they grow : To morrow's fate there 's none can know . 2. Let 's sing and laugh sad thoughts away , Mirth shall rule the active day ; And the night to Raptures of Love we 'll pay . Thus should Youth in Pleasures reign ; And Gods that cannot put on Earth again , Shall wish for such delights in vain . The ANSWER . 1. WHy should we ere think of Love ? Pox upon 't , the Gods above The Torments on 't cou'd ne'r remove . But if Lovers we must be , God Bacchus shall be our Deitie : For Wine alone can make us free . 2. Let 's sing and throw Love-thoughts away , Which still does make our Health decay , And our Wit too often run astray . But Wine is so divine a thing , Let 's all its praises dayly sing , Seeing nought but that can pleasure bring . An excellent SGNG. 1. ALas , what shall I do ! I have taken on me now To make a Song , I vow : A wo is me ! I am commanded to 't ; I dare not stand it out , Though I 'm put to the rout : It so must be . Thou shalt do 't ; Then stand to 't , I 'll set my Muse afoot , With a good chirping Cup. There may some hidden Mine Spring from the Juice of Wine ; Then tak 't and drink it up . 2. Pox on 't , it will not do ; I must have t'other two ; I claim it as my due , And must lov't : For where the Land is dry , The good Husband doth hie To bring the water nigh To improv't . Here 's the use of the Juice ; Open me then the Sluce , And die my Wit in grain . That Soul 's ne'r empty That takes it in plenty ; 'T is the onely Spring of the Brain . 3. Madam , now you may see What Obedience is in me ; I have done what may be For to obey . I have set my Muse on foot , With the sprightly Grape to boot , That commands me do 't : 'T is they must sway . If my Pate , soon or late , Shall bring forth some conceit ; To you my wit I owe. If I do fall flat , It is , mark you that , I 'm a Cup too low . If I spoke sence enough , Or did speak but stuff , All is alike to me : I 'll never pause upon 't . You were the cause on 't ; And that 's my Apologie . On a Beautiful Miss . 1. I Know I 'm no Poet ; My Song will soon show it : But my Sorrows do flow like a Spring . Although they do shame me , The world cannot blame me , That I should thus dolefully sing . My loss is so great , And such a Defeat No Mortal had ever before : For she had every Feature Of a beautiful Creature ; And no man can say any more . 2. Her Lips , it is true , Were of Coventry-blue ; But her Hair was a fine Bow-dye . Her Stature was low , But her Nose was not so : For 't was O most delicate high . Her upper Lip thin , Which finely turn'd in , And her Teeth were as black as a coal : But her under stood out To receive from her Snout The droppings that came from each hole . 3. Though some Teeth she wanted , The rest were so planted , That Nature did shew no neglect : What in some she deni'd , She in others suppli'd , Because there should be no defect . 'T is true , we do know Sh 'ad some gaps below , But yet it was plain to be seen That her upper Teeth met 'em , Nature so well had set 'em , Like Tallies they clapt in between . 4. Thus with a good grace They took their due place , And they stood hither and thither ; We plainly may see They all did agree , And lovingly met together . To stand in a row Is common , you know ; But the best and the newest way , Is to see , without doubt , Teeth stand in and out , As if they were dancing the Hay . 5. No Needle nor Pin Was so sharp as her Chin , Which her Nose did so lovingly meet , That like Sister and Brother They kist one another ; It was a great pleasure to see 't . No Globe cou'd be found So perfectly round , As her Back was , by all that mind her . And to give her her due , Her Head turn'd like a Skrew To study the Globe behind her . 6. Her Breath it was strong , Her Legs short and long , To make up her perfect shape ; Her Cheeks were like Lent When 't is almost spent , And her Face was as sweet as an Ape . Her Skin might be taken For a gammon of Bacon ; Her Brests , never Trencher so flat ; So fine was her mouth , That it stood North and South ; And sh 'ad delicate Eyes like a Cat. 7. I think it is meet To speak of her feet , And tell you how well they were made ; I will not deceive ye , But if you 'll believe me , They had the true shape of a Spade , So fine and so flat ; But when she did pat , So even a guard she did keep : With legs high and low , That when she did go , You 'd think she were playing Bo-peep . 8. But this Narration Breeds such molestation Within my unfortunate breast , I can say no more , But must give it ore , And leave you to guess at the rest . Search all the world round , None such can be found , So well she pleased my Pallet ; That I 'll pine all my life For the loss of my Wife : And there is an end of my Ballet . The Patient Man , and the Scolding Wife . 1. M. WIfe , come gi' me thy hand now , And sit thee down by me ; There 's never a man in the Land now Shall be more loving to thee . W. I hate to sit by such a Drone ; Thou ly'st like a Log in my Bed. I had better a lain alone : For I still have my Maidenhead . 2. M. Wife , prethee now leave off thy ranting , And let us both agree ; There 's nothing else shall be wanting , If thou wo't be ruled by me . W. I will have a Coach and a Man , And a Saddle-horse to ride ; I also will have a Sedan , And a Footman to run by my side . 3. M. Thou sha't have all this , my dear Wife , And thou sha't bear the Sway ; Nay , I 'll provide thee good Cheer , Wife , ' Gainst thou com'st from the Park or a Play. W. I 'll have every week a new Gown , And a Petticoat died in Grain , Of the modishest Silk in the Town ; And a Page to hold up my Train . 4. M. Thou sha't have this too , my sweet Wife , If thou 't contented be , Or any thing else that is meet , Wife , If thou wo't be ruled by me . W. I will have a Gallant or two , And they shall be handsome men ; And I 'll make you to know your kue , When they come in and go out agen . 5. M. Methinks a couple's too few , Wife ; Thou sha't have three or four : And yet I know thou 't be true , Wife , Although thou hadst half a score . W. I will have as many as I please , In spight of your teeth , you fool ; And when I have the Pocky disease , 'T is you that shall empty my Stool . 6. M. Why how now , you brazen-fac'd Harlot ! I 'll make you to change your note ; And if ever I find that you snarl at My actions , I 'll bang your Coat . Nay , I 'll make you to wait , you Flaps , At Table till I have din'd ; And I 'll leave you nothing but Scraps , Till I find you better inclin'd . 7. W. Sweet Husband , I now cry Peccavi ; You know we women are frail : And for the ill words that I gave ye , Ask pardon , and hope to prevail . For now I will lie at your foot , Desiring to kiss your hand ; Nay , cast off my Gallants to boot , And still be at your command . The Doating Lover . 1. WAs ever man so happy as I , Sir ! My Mistriss has gi'n me a kiss : But I full long at her door did lie , Sir , Before I cou'd compass this . I cring'd , and I bow'd , And I sung to my Crowd ; But never cou'd get it before . And if but another I may be allow'd , I 'd lie there a twelve month more . 2. Though for a time she did deprive me The favour of seeing her face , That balmy Kiss did so revive me , It made me take heart a grace . And if as I see Such Vertue there be In one poor innocent Kiss , I 'll give my Estate , whatere be my fate , To get such another as this . 3. For he that 's possest with Riches and Honour , May meet with a cruel Dame ; 'T will signifie nothing until he has won her To answer his amorous flame . Let him hunt , let him hawk , Let him drink , let him talk , And strive to forget her disdain : He ne'r in his breast will have any rest , Until he comes to her again . A Song on a Wedding . 1. NOw that Loves Holiday is come , And Madge the Maid hath swept the Room , And trim'd her Spit and Pot ; Awake , my merry , my merry Muse , and sing The Revels , and that other thing That must not be forgot . 2. As the gray Morning dawn'd , 't is sed , Clarissa broke out of her bed , Like Cynthia in her pride ; Where all the Maiden-Lights that were Compriz'd within our Hemisphere , Attended at her side . 3. But wot you then , with much ado They drest the Bride from top to toe , And brought her from her Chamber , Deck'd in her Robes and Garments gay , More sumptuous than the flow'rs in May , Or Stars inshrin'd in Amber . 4. The sparkling Bullies of her Eyes , Like two eclipsed Suns did rise Beneath her Cristal Brow , To shew by those strange accidents , Some changeable Events Were like to hap below . 5. Her Cheeks bestreakt with white and red , Like pretty Tel-tales of the Bed , Presag'd the blustring night With his incircling arms and shade , Resolv'd to swallow and invade , And skreen her Virgin-light . 6. Her Lips , those threads of Scarlet-die , Wherein Loves Charms and Quiver lie , Legions of Sweets did crown ; Which smilingly did seem to say , O crop me , crop me , whilst you may ; Anon they 're not mine own . 7. Her Breasts , those melting Alps of Snow , On whose fair hill , in open show , The God of Love lay napping , Like swelling Buts of lively Wine , Upon the Ivory stalls did shine , To wait the lucky tapping . 8. Her Waste , that slender Type of man , Was but a small and single span ; Yet I dare safely swear , He that whole thousands has in fee , Wou'd forfeit all , so he might be Lord of the Mannor there . 9. But now , before I pass the Line , Pray , Reader , give me leave to dine , And pause here in the middle ; The Bridegroom and the Parson knock , With all the Hymeneal flock , The Plum-cake and the Fiddle . 10. Whenas the Priest Clarissa sees , He star'd as 't had bin half his fees To gaze upon her face . And if the Spirit did not move , His Continence was far above Each sinner in the place . 11. With mick stir he joyn'd their hands , And hamper'd 'em in Marriage-bands As fast as fast might be . Where still methinks , methinks I hear That secret Sigh in every ear , O Love , remember me . 12. Which done , the Cook he knockt amain , And up the Dishes in a train Came smoaking two and two . With that they wipt their mouths and sate , Some fell to quaffing , some to prate ; Aye marry , and welcome too . 13. In Pairs they thus impal'd the Meat , Roger , and Marget , and Thomas , and Kate , Rafe and Bess , Andrew and Maudlin , And Valentine eke , with Sybil so sweet , Whose Cheeks on each side of her Snuffers did meet , As round and plump as a Codlin . 14. When at the last they 'd fetcht their fees , And mir'd their stomach up to th' knees In Claret , for and good Chear , Then , then began the merry din : For 't was thought they were all on the Pin. O what kissing and clipping was there ! 15. But as luck would have 't , the Parson said Grace , And to frisking and dancing they shuffled apace . Each Lad took's Last by the fist ; Who there did kiss her and turn her , until The fat of her face ran down like a Mill ; He toul'd for the rest of the Grist . 16. In sweat and in dust having wasted the day , They enter'd on the last Act of the Play. The Bride to her Bed was convey'd ; Where knee-deep each hand fell down to the ground , And in seeking the Garter , much pleasure was found ; ' Twou'd a made a mans arm have stray'd . 17. This Clutter ore , Clarissa lay Half-bedded , like the peeping day , Behind Olympus Cap ; Whilst at her head each twittering Girl The fatal Stockin quick did whirl , To know the lucky hap . 18. The Bridegroom in at last did ruffle , All disappointed in the bustle , The Maids had shav'd his Breeches . But let him not complain , till then In such a storm , I can tell when , He sav'd his other Stitches . 19. And now he bounc'd into the Bed , Even just as if a man had sed , Fair Lady , have at all . Where twisted at the hug they lay , Like Venus and the sprightful Boy : O who wou'd fear the fall ! 20. Thus both with Loves sweet Tapers fir'd , A thousand balmy Kisses tir'd , They cou'd not wait the rest . But out the Folk and Candles fled , And to 't they went ; but what they did , There lies the Cream o' th' Jest . A positive Farewel to Love. 1. WHen in the month of January , Ripe Apples grow on Trees ; When Butter doth in Fehruary , At once both thaw and freeze ; When Horses flie , Beasts headless walk ; When Chairs and Stools do move ; When Mutes as fast as Women talk ; Then will I fall in love . 2. When Cherries in the month of March As ripe are as in June ; When men instead of Corn sow Starch ; When Bears do sing in tune ; When Fishes on the Trees do chatter ; When Womens Tongues ne'r move ; When Men forbear to lie and flatter ; Then will I fall in love . 3. If when it rains , the ground be dry ; Or when 't is foul , fair weather ; When Sun and Moon shall in the Sky Both meet and dance together ; When the Heavens fall where th' Earth doth stand , And th' Earth doth mount above , And I can grasp both in my hand ; Then will I fall in love . 4. A Lover he no Will doth know ; He cannot speak or stir : He is a Child , and cannot go , But as he 's mov'd by her . Whilst I still by my self do move , And to my Pleasures bend : Then farewel unto shitten Love. And so I 'll make an end . FINIS . 
A96974	----	Parnassus biceps. Or Severall choice pieces of poetry, composed by the best wits that were in both the universities before their dissolution. With an epistle in the behalfe of those now doubly secluded and sequestred Members, by one who himselfe is none. This text is an enriched version of the TCP digital transcription A96974 of text R204146 in the English Short Title Catalog (Thomason E1679_1). 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. 214 KB of XML-encoded text transcribed from 90 1-bit group-IV TIFF page images. EarlyPrint Project Evanston,IL, Notre Dame, IN, St. Louis, MO 2017 A96974 Wing W3686 Thomason E1679_1 ESTC R204146 99863834 99863834 116049 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. A96974) Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 116049) Images scanned from microfilm: (Thomason Tracts ; 210:E1679[1]) Parnassus biceps. Or Severall choice pieces of poetry, composed by the best wits that were in both the universities before their dissolution. With an epistle in the behalfe of those now doubly secluded and sequestred Members, by one who himselfe is none. Wright, Abraham, 1611-1690. [16], 163, [1] p. Printed for George Eversden at the signe of the Maidenhead in St. Pauls Church-yard., London: : 1656. Compiler's note "To the ingenuous reader" signed: Ab: Wright. In verse. Annotation on Thomason copy: "15 Aprill.". Reproduction of the original in the British Library. eng Humorous poetry, English -- 17th century. A96974 R204146 (Thomason E1679_1). civilwar no Parnassus biceps. Or Severall choice pieces of poetry,: composed by the best wits that were in both the universities before their dissoluti Wright, Abraham 1656 35279 51 5 0 0 0 0 16 C The rate of 16 defects per 10,000 words puts this text in the C category of texts with between 10 and 35 defects per 10,000 words. 2007-04 TCP Assigned for keying and markup 2007-04 Aptara Keyed and coded from ProQuest page images 2007-06 Robyn Anspach Sampled and proofread 2007-06 Robyn Anspach Text and markup reviewed and edited 2008-02 pfs Batch review (QC) and XML conversion Parnassus Biceps . OR Severall Choice Pieces OF POETRY , Composed by the best WITS that were in both the Universities BEFORE THEIR DISSOLUTION . With an Epistle in the behalfe of those now doubly secluded and sequestredMembers , by One who himselfe is gone . LONDON : Printed for George Eversden at the Signe of the Maidenhead in St. Pauls Church-yard . 1656. To the Ingenuous READER . SIR . THese leaves present you with some sow drops of that Ocean of Wit , which flowed from those two brests of this Nation , the two Universities ; and doth now ( the sluces being puld up ) overflow the whole Lands : or rather like those Springs of Paradice , doth water and enrich the whole worlds whilst the Fountains themselvss are dryed up , and that Twin-Paradise become desart . For then were these Verses Composed , when Oxford and Camebridge were Vniversities , and a Colledge more learned then a Town-Hall ; when the Buttery and Kitchin could speak Latine , though not Preach ; and the very irrational Turnspits had so much knowing modesty , as not to dare to come into a Chappel , or to mountany Pulpits but their own . Then were these Poems writ , when peace and plenty were the best Patriots and Maecenasses to great Wits ; when we could sit and make Verses under our own Figtrees , and be inspired from the juice of our own Vines : then , when it was held no sin for the same man to be both a Poet , and a Prophet ; and to draw predictions no lesse from his Verse , then his Text . Thus you shall meet here St. Pauls Rapture in a Poem , and the fancy as high and as clear as the third Heaven , into which that Apostle was caught up : and this not onely in the ravishing expressions and extasies of amorous Composures and Love Songs ; but in the more grave Dorick strains of sollid Divinity : Anthems that might have become Davids Harpe , and Asaphs Quire , to be sung , as they were made , with the Spirit of that chief Musitian . Againe , In this small Glasse you may behold your owne face , fit your own humors , however wound up and tuned ; whether to the sad note , and melancholy look of a disconsolate Elegy , or those more sprightly jovial Aires of an Epithalamium , or Epinichion . Further , would you see a Mistresse of any age , or face , in her created , or uncreated complexion : this mirrour presents you with more shapes then a Conjurers Glasse , or a Limnors Pencil . It will also teach you how to court that Mistresse , when her very washings and pargettings cannot flatter her ; how to raise a beauty out of wrinkles fourscore years old , and to fall in love even with deformity and uglinesse . From your Mistresse it brings you to your God ; and ( as it were some new Master of the Ceremonies ) instructs you how to woe , and court him likewise ; but with approaches and distances , with gestures and expressions suitable to a Diety ; addresses clothed with such a sacred filial horror and reverence , as may invite and embolden the most despairing condition of the saddest gloomy Sinner ; and withall dash out of countenance the greatest confidence of the most glorious Saint : and not with that blasphemous familiarity of our new-enlightned and inspired men , who are as bold with the Majesty and glory of that Light that is unaprochable , as with their own ignes fatui ; and account of the third Person in the blessed Trinity for no more then their Fellow-Ghost ; thinking him as much bound to them for their vertiginous blasts and while-winds , as they to him for his own most holy Spirit . Your Authors then of these few sheets are Priests , as well as Poets ; who canteach you to pray inverse , and ( if there were not already too much phantasticknes in that Trade ) to Preach likewise : while they turn Scripture-chapters into Odes , and both the Testaments into one book of Psalmes : making Parnassns as sacred as Mount Olivet , and the nine Muses no lesse religious then a Cloyster of Nuns . But yet for all this I would not have thee , Courteous Reader , pass thy censure upon those two Fountains of Religion and Learning , the Uviversities , from these few small drops of wit , as hardly as some have done upon the late Assemblies three-half-penny Catechisme : as if all their publick and private Libraries , all their morning and evening watchings , all those pangs and throwes of their Studies , were now at length delivered but of a Verse , and brought to bed onely of five feet , and a Conceit . For although the judicious modesty of these Men dares not look the world in the face with any of Theorau Johns Revelations , or those glaring New-lights that have muffled the Times and Nation with a greater confusion and darknes , then ever benighted the world since the first Chaos : yet would they please bnt to instruct this ignorant Age with those exact elaborate Pieces , which might reform Philosophy without a Civil War , and new modell even Divinity its selfe without the ruine of either Chuch , or State ; probably that most prudent and learned Order of the Church of Rome , the Jesuite , should not boast more sollid , though more numerous Volums in this kind . And of this truth that Order was very sensible , when it felt the rational Divinity of one single Chillingworth to be an unanswerable twelve-years-task for all their English Colledges in Chrisendome . And therefore that Society did like its selfe , whe●… it sent us over a War instead of an Answer , and proved us Hereticks by the sword : which in the first place was to Rout the Universities , and to teach our two Fountains of Learning better manners , then for ever heareafter to bubble and swell against the Apostolick Sea . And yet I know not whether the depth of their Politicks might not have advised to have kept those Fountains within their own banks , and there to have dammd them and choakd them up with the mud of the Times , rather then to have let those Protestant Streams run ; which perchance may effect that now by the spreading Riverets , which they could never have done through the inclosed Spring : as it had been a deeper State-piece and Reach in that Sanedrim , the great Councell of the Jewish Nation , to have confined the Apostles to Jerusalem , and there to have muzzeld them with Oaths , and Orders ; rather then by a fruitful Persecution to scatter a few Gospel Seeds , that would spring up the Religion of the whole world : which had it been Coopd within the walls of that City , might ( for all they knew ) in few years have expired and given up the ghost upon the same Golgotha with its Master . And as then every Pair of Fishermen made a Church and caught the sixt part of the world in their Nets ; so now every Pair of Celledge-fellows make as many several Vniversityes ; which are truly so call'd , in that they are Catholick , and spread over the face of the whole earth ; which stands amazed , to see not onely Religion , but Learning also to come from beyond the Alpes ; and that a poor despised Canton and nook of the world should contain as much of each as all the other Parts besides . But then , as when our single Jesus was made an universall Saviour , and his particular Gospel the Catholick Religion ; though that Jesus and this Gospel did both take their rise from the holy City ; yet now no City is more unholy and infidel then that ; insomuch that there is at this day scarce any thing to be heard of a Christ at Jerusalem , more then that such a one was sometimes there , nor any thing to be seen of his Gospel , more then a Sepulcher : just so it is here with us ; where though both Religion and Learning do owe their growth , as well as birth , to those Nurseryes of both , the Vniversityes ; yet , since the Siens of those Nurseryes have been transplanted , there 's little remaines in them now ( if they are not belyed ) either of the old Religion and Divinity , more then its empty Chair & Pulpit , or of the antient Learning & Arts , except bare Schools , and their gilded Superscriptions : so far have we beggard our selves to enrich the whole world . And thus , Ingenuous Sir , have I given you the State and Condition of this Poetick Miscellany , as also of the Authors ; it being no more then some few Slips of the best Florists made up into a slender Garland , to crown them in their Pilgrimage , and refresh thee in thine : if yet their very Pilgrimage be not its selfe a Crown equall to that of Confessors , and their Academicall Dissolution a Resurrection to the greatest temporall glory : when they shall be approved of by men and Angels for a chosen Generation , a Royal Priesthood , a peculiar People . In the interim let this comfort be held out to you , our secluded University-members , by him that is none ; ( and therefore what hath been here spoken must not be interpreted as out of passion to my self , but nicer zeal to my Mother ) that according to the generally received Principles and Axioms of Policy , and the soundest Judgment of the most prudential States-men upon those Principles , the daie of your sad Ostracisme is expiring , and at an end ; but yet such an end , as some of you will not embrace when it shall be offered ; but will chuse rather to continue Peripateticks through the whole world , then to return , and be so in your own Colledges . For as that great Councell of Trent had a Form and Conclusion altogether contrary to the expectation and desires of them that procured it ; so our great Councels of England ( our late Parliaments ) will have such a result , and Catastrophe , as shall no ways answer the Fasts and Prayers , the Humiliations , and Thanks givings of their Plotters and Contrivers : such a result I say , that will strike a palsie through Mr. Pims ashes , make his cold Marble sweat ; and put all those several Partyes , and Actors , that have as yet appeard upon our tragical bloudy Stage , to an amazed stand and gaze : when they shall confess themselves ( but too late ) to be those improvident axes and hammers in the hand of a subtle Workman ; whereby he was enabled to beat down , and square out our Church and State into a Conformity with his own . And then it will appeare that the great Worke , and the holy Cause , and the naked Arme , so much talked of for these fifteen years , were but the work , and the cause , and the arme of that Hand , which hath all this while reached us over the Alpes ; dividing , and composing , winding us up , and letting us down , untill our very discords have set and tuned us to such notes , both in our Ecclesiastical , and Civill Government ; as may soonest conduce to that most necessary Catholick Vnison and Harmony , which is an essential part of Christs Church here upon Earth , and the very Church its selfe in Heaven . And thus far , Ingenuous Reader , suffer him to be a Poet in his Prediction , though not in his Verse ; who desires to be known so far to thee , as that he is a friend to persecuted Truth , and Peace ; and thy most affectionate Christian Servant , Ab : Wright . Vniversity-Poems . The Temper . UPON Dr. JUXON Bishop of LONDON . Great Sir , ANd now more great then when you were o th' Cabinet to your King , and Treasurer . For then your acts were lock't from common view Your life as Counsell being all Closet too ; But now that Cabinet 's opened , you doe passe To th' world for the chiefe Jewel of the case : Each vertue shines a several glorious spark , Which then were but one Diamond in the dark . The Exchequer speaks your faith , this you to be As true to the Counsell-board as Treasury ; Which care o th' civill good when they shall view The houses will repeal their act for you ; And in their graver policy debate The cloak lesse fit for the Church , then th' gown for th' State . Next , to your place your low mind did accord So well , you seem'd a Bishop and no Lord . A Bishop such , as even the Scots to make You theirs would arme , and a new Covenant take ; Disband the Presbitery , and henceforth Install you their sole Patriarch of the North . Such power hath your soft Rhetorick , such awe Your nod , and even your silence is a law ; While others are not heard through their own noyse And by their speaking much have lost their voyce : Thus those o th' starry Senate of the night Which slowest tread their Orbs shine till most bright , And dart the strongest influx ; so conceal The flints cold veins a fire ; such is the zeal Of recluse Votaries , piercing the aire And yet not heard , and such the Anchorites prayer . Not like our modern Zelots , whose bare name In Greek and Welch joyns language for a flame . Gun-powder souls , whose Pulpit thoughts create A calenture and feaver in the State ; Whose plots and discipline are all fire , and shine As hot , as if contrived under the line . Your tempers cool and Northern , calculate For the Miridian of this clime and State ; And may be fitly stil'd the Courts pole-star , Or honours best morall Philosopher : So just your Sovereigne's , t is a hard thing To say , which was the Bishop , which the King . This Temper took our State , by whom we see The order question'd yet the Bishop free : So that of all their Acts this one 's most rare , A Church-man scape and a Lord Treasurer . A Poem , Indefence of the decent Ornaments of Christ-Church Oxon , occasioned by a Banbury brother , who called them Idolatries . YOu that prophane our windows with a tongue Set like some clock on purpose to go wrong ; Who when you were at Service sigh'd , because You heard the Organs musick not the Dawes : Pittying our solemn state , shaking the head To see no ruines from the flore to the lead : To whose pure nose our Cedar gave offence , Crying it smelt of Papists frankincense : Who walking on our Marbles scoffing said Whose bodies are under these Tombstones laid : Counting our Tapers works of darknesse ; and Choosing to see Priests in blew-aprons stand Rather then in rich Coapes which shew the art Of Sisera's prey Imbrodred in each part : Then when you saw the Altars Bason said Why 's not the Ewer on the Cubboards head , Thinking our very Bibles too prophane , Cause you nere bought such Covers in Ducklane . Loathing all decency , as if have Altars as foule and homely as a Grave . Had you one spark of reason , you would finde Your selves like Idolls to have eyes yet blind . T is onely some base niggard Heresie To think Religion loves deformity . Glory did never yet make God the lesse , Neither can beauty defile holinesse . What 's more magnificent then Heaven ? yet where Is there more love and piety then there . My heart doth wish ( wer 't possible ) to see Pauls built with pretious stones and porphery : To have our Halls and Galleries outshine Altars in beauty , is to deck our swine With Orient Pearl , whilst the deserving Quire Of God and Angels wallow in the mire : Our decent Copes onely distinction keep That you may know the Shepheard from the sheep , As gaudy letters in the Rubrick shew How you may holi-dayes from lay-dayes know : Remember Aarons Robes and you will say Ladies at Masques are not so rich as they . Then are th'Priests words like thunderclaps when he Is lightning like rayed round with Majesty . May every Temple shine like those of Nile , And still be free from Rat or Crocodile . But you will urge both Priest and Church should be The solemn patternes of humility . Doe not some boast of raggs ? Cynicks deride The pomp of Kings but with a greater pride . Meeknesse consists not in the cloaths but heart , Nature may be vainglorious well as art ; We way as lowly before God appear Drest with a glorious pearl as with a tear ; In his high presence where the Stars and Sun Doe but Ecclipse ther 's no ambition . You dare admit gay paint upon a wall , Why then in glasse that held Apocriphall ? Our bodies Temples are : look in the eye The window , and you needs must pictures spye ; Moses and Aaron and the Kings armes are Daubed in the Church when you the Warden were . Yet you nere find for Papist : shall we say Banbury is turnd Rome , because we may See the holy Lamb and Christopher ? nay more The Altar stone set at the Tavern doore ? Why can't the Oxe then in the nativity Be Imagd forth , but Papists Bulls are nigh ? Our pictures to no other end are made Then is your Time and sith your death and spade ; To us they 'r but mementoes , which present ▪ Christ best , except his Word and Sacrament . If 't were a sin to set up Imagry , To get a Child were flat Idolary . The modells of our buildings would be thus Directions to our houses , ruines to us . Hath not each creature which hath daily birth Something which resembles Heaven or Earth ? Suppose some ignorant Heathen once did bow To Images , may we not see them now ? Should we love darknesse and abhor the Sun Cause Persians gave it adoration ? And plant no Orchards , because apples first Made Adam and his lineall race accurst ? Though wine for Bacchus , bread for Ceres went , Yet both are now used in the Sacrament . What then if these were Popish reliques ? few Windowes are elsewhere old but these are new , And so exceed the former , that the face Of those come short of the outside of our glass ; Colours are here mix'd so , that Rainbows be ( Compared ) but clouds without variety . Art here is Natures envy : this is he , Not Paracelsus , that by Chymistry Can make a man from ashes , if not dust , Producing off-springs of his mind not lust . See how he makes his maker , and doth draw All that is meant i th' Gospel , or i th' Law : Looking upon the Resurrection Me thoughts I saw the blessed vision , Where not his face is meerly drawn but mind , Which not with paint but oile of gladness shind : But when I viewed the next pane , where we have The God of life transported to his grave , Light then is dark , all things so dull and dead ; As if that part of the window had been lead . Jonas his whale did so mens eyes befool That they 'd have begd him for th' Anatomy School . That he saw Ships at Oxford one did swear , Though Isis yet will Barges hardly bear . Another soon as he the trees espied Thought them i' th Garden on the other side . See in what state ( though on an Asse ) Christ went , This shews more glorious then the Parliament . Then in what awe Moses his rod doth keep The Seas , as if a frost had glaz'd the deep ; The raging waves are to themselves a bound ; Some cry help help or horse and man are drownd . Shadows doe every where for substance passe , You 'd think the sands were in a houre-glasse . You that do live with Chirurgeons , have you seen A spring of blood forst from a swelling vein ? So from a touch of Moses rod doth jump A Chataract , the rock is made a pump : At sight of whose oreflowings many get Themselves away for fear of being wet . Have you beheld a sprightfull Lady stand To have her frame drawn by a painters hand ? Such lively look and presence , such a dresse King Pharoahs Daughters Image doth expresse ; Look well upon her Gown and you will swear The needle not the pencill hath been there : At sight of her some gallants doe dispute Whether i th' Church 't is lawfull to salute . Next Jacob kneeling , where his Kids-skins such As it may well cosen old Isaacs touch : A Shepheard seeing how thorns went round about Abrahams ram , would needs have helpt it out . Behold the Dove descending to inspire The Apostles heads with cloven tongues of fire , And in a superficies there you le see The grosse dimentions of profundity : T is hard to judge which is best built and higher The arch-roofe in the window or the Quire . All beasts as in the Ark are lively done , Nay you may see the shadow of the Sun . Upon a landskip if you look a while You le think the prospect at least forty mile . There 's none needs now goe travell , we may see At home Jerusalem and Ninevy ; And Sodome now in flames : one glance will dart Farther then Lynce with Galilaeus art . Seeing Eliahs Chariot , we feare There is some fiery prodigy in the aire . When Christ to purge his Temple holds his whip How nimbly hucksters vvith their baskets skip . St. Peters fishes are so lively wrought , Some cheapen them and ask when they were caught . Here 's motion painted too : Chariots so fast Run , that they 're never gone though always past . The Angels with their Lutes are done so true , We doe not onely look but hearken too , As if their sounds were painted : thus the wit Of the pencil hath drawn more then there can sit . Thus as ( in Archimedes sphear ) you may In a small glasse the universe survey : Such various shapes are too i th' Imagry As age and sex may their own features see . But if the window cannot shew your face Look under feet the Marble is your glasse , Which too for more then Ornament is there The stones may learn your eyes to shed a tear : Yet though their lively shadows delude sence They never work upon the conscience ; They cannot make us kneel ; we are not such As think there 's balsome in their kisse or touch , That were grosse superstition we know ; There is no more power in them then the Popes toe . The Saints themselves for us can doe no good , Muchless their pictures drawn in glass and wood , They cannot seale , but since they signifie They may be worthy of a cast o th' eye , Although no worship : that is due alone Not to the Carpenters but Gods own Sonne : Obedience to blocks deserves the rod ; The Lord may well be then a jealous God . Why should not Statues now be due to Paul , As to the Caesars of the Capitall . How many Images of great heires , which Had nothing but the sin of being rich , Shine in our Temples ? kneeling alwayes there Where when they were alive scarce appear . Yet shall Christs Sepulcher have nere a Tomb ? Shall every Saint suffer John Baptists doom ? No limb of Mary stand ? must we forget Christs cross as soon as past the Alphabet ? Shall not their heads have room in the window who Founded our Church and our Religion too ? We know that Gods a Spirit , we confesse Thoughts cannot comprehend his name , muchless Can a small glasse his nature : but since he Vouchsaf'd to suffer his humanity , Why may not we ( onely to puts in mind Of his Godhead ) have his manhood thus enshrind ? Is our Kings person lesse esteemd because We read him in our Coynes as well as Laws ? Doe what we can , whether we think or paint , All Gods expressions are but weak and faint . Yet spots in Globes must not be blotted thence That cannot shew the worlds magnificence . Nor is it fit we should the skill controul Because the Artist cannot draw the soul . Cease then your railings and your dull complaints ; To pull down Galleries and set up Saints Is no impiety : now we may well Say that our Church is truely visible : Those that before our glasse scaffolds prefer , Would turne our Temple to a theater . Windows are Pulpits now ; though unlearnd , one May read this Bibles new Edition . Instead of here and there a verse adornd Round with a lace of paint , fit to be scornd Even by vulgar eyes , each pane presents Whole chapters with both comment and contents , The cloudy mysteries of the Gospel here Transparent as the Christall doe appear . T is not to see things darkly through a glasse , Here you may see our Saviour face to face . And whereas Feasts come seldome , here 's descride A constant Chrismas , Easter , Whitsontide . Let the deafe hither come ; no matter though Faiths sence be lost , we a new way can shew : Here we can teach them to believe by the eye ; These silenced Ministers doe edify : The Scriptures rayes contracted in a Glasse Like Emblems doe with greater vertue passe . Look in the book of Martyrs and you le see More by the Pictures then the History . That price for things in colours oft we give Which wee 'd not take to have them while they live . Such is the power of painting that it makes A loving sympathy twixt men and snakes . Hence then Pauls doctrin may seem more divine ▪ As Amber through a Glasse doth clearer shine . Words passe away , as soon as heard are gone ; We read in books what here we dwell upon , Thus then there 's no more fault in Imagry Then there is in the Practise of piety , Both edifie : what is in letters there Is writ in plainer Hierogliphicks here . T is not a new Religion we have chose ; T is the same body but in better cloaths . You le say they make us gaze when we should pray And that our thoughts doe on the figures stray : If so , you may conclude us beasts , what they Have for their object is to us the way . Did any ere use prospectives to see No farther then the Glasse : or can there be Such lazy travellers , so given to sin , As that they le take their dwelling at the Inne . A Christians sight rests in Divinity , Signes are but spectacles to help faiths ey● , God is the Center : dwelling one these words , My muse a Sabbath to my brain affords . If their nice wits more solemn proof exact , Know this was meant a Poem not a Tract . An ELEGIE , Vpon the death of Sir John Burrowes , Slaine at the Isle of Ree . OH wound us not with this sad tale , forbear To press our grief too much , we cannot hear This all at once , such heavy newes as these Must be sunk gently into us by degrees : Say Burrowes is but hurt , let us disgest This first , then try our patience for the rest . Practise us first in lighter griefes , that we May grow at last strong for this Tragedy . Doe not speak yet he 's slaine , or if he be Speak 't in a whisper or uncertainty , As some new unauthoriz'd buzze without Reason or warrant to confirme our doubt . Come t is not so , t is but some flying talk Newes lately vented in the audacious walk , Some lye that 's drapt in Pauls to stur our fears , And gatherd by the busie credulous eares . Will you believe ought comes from thence ? why there The Forts surrendred , and the Rochellere Sworne English , Tillyes slaine , the hostile Kings Closed in our siege , with such prodigious things , Which your perswaded vulgar takes and sends Abroad as tokens to their country friends . Are all these wonders false ? and onely this True mongst so many impossibilities ? Where truth is worse then any forgery There we may curse his mouth that doth not lye , When fame goes off with such a black report Worse then the murthering Canon from the fort , Worse then the shot that killd him , for but one Was killd with that , this kills a Nation . I le not believe it yet , doe we not know An envious murder fam'd him dead ere now ; Receiv'd went into Ballads and almost Clap'd in Caranto's upon every post : Why should he not now dye in jest as then , And we as haply be mock'd agen ? But t is too certaine , here his Coarse we have Come ore to prove his death and ask a Grave , A Grave for his good service : onely thus Must we reward thee that wast slaine for us , To mourn and bury thee ? and would our fears As soon were clos'd too as thy dust and tears . I would thou mightst dye wholly here , and be Forgotten , rather then our misery Should urge thy fresh remembrance , and recall Our sorrows often to lament thy fall , When we shall say hereafter , t is well seen Burrowes is dead else this had never been . Why did we thus expose thee , what 's now all That Island to requite thy Funerall ; Though thousand troops of murdered French doe lye It may revenge , it cannot satifie : They are before hand still , and when we have done Our worst we are loosers though the Fort be won : Our conquerers now will weep , when they shall see This price too dear to buy a victory : He whose brave fire gave heat to all the rest That dealt his spirits in each English breast ; From whose divided vertues you might take So many Captaines out and fully make Them each accomplisht with those parts the which Did joyntly his rare furnish'd soule enrich : He whose command was ore himselfe more high And strictly soure then ore his company : Not rashly valiant nor yet fearfull wise , His flame had counsell in 't , his fury eyes , Not struck with courage at the drums proud beat Or made fierce onely by the Trumpets heat : When even pale hearts above their pitch doe fly And for a while doe mad it furiously : His rage was temper'd well , no fear could dant His reason his cold blood was valiant . Alasse those vulgar praises injure thee , Which now a Poet would as plenteously Give some boy souldier , one that nere knew more Then the fine Scabbard and the Scarfe he wore . And we can pitch no higher ; thou hast outdone So much our fancy and invention , It cannot give thee ought . He that of thee Shall write but halfe seems to write Poetry : It is a strong line here to speak yet true , Hyperboles in others is thy due . Suffice it that thou wert our Armies all ; Whos 's well tryed name did more the French appall Then all their wants could do , whose inward dread Famish'd them more in courage then in bread : And we may make 't a Question , whether most Besiegd their Castle , Burrowes , or our Host . Now let me blame thy vertue , it was this Took thee from us and not our enemies . Whilst thy unwearied toyle no respite takes And thinks rest sloath , and with parpetual wakes Continuest night with day and day with night ; Thou wast more ventrous when thou didst not fight . This did expose thee to their fraud and mark ; They durst not seize upon thee but i th' dark : The coward bullet that so oft before Waved thy bold face and did fear thee more Then thou feardst it , now by its errour is Aimed too too sure : There was no light to misse . Thus fell our Captaine , and the sound be's dead Has fallen as deep ; and like that fatall lead Lies cold on us . Yet this thy honour be , Thy hurts our wound , thy death our misery . Not as the mourning of a private fate But as some ruine had befallen the State : The Fleet had been miscarried , Denmark tane Or the Palatinate been lost againe . So we with down-cast looks astonishd quite Receiv'd this not as newes but as a fright : So we relate thy death , whilst each man here Contributes to this publick losse a teare : Whilst Fathers tell their children this was he ; And they hereafter to posterity Range with those Forces that scourg'd France of old Burrowes and Talbots name together told . VVhilst we ad this to our quarrel , and now more Fight to revenge thee then our Land before . On a white blemish in his Mistresse eye . IF there be hap●y any man that dares Think that the blemish in the Moon impaires Her modest beauty : He may be so farre From right , as he that thinks a Swan may marre A Christall stream , or Ivory make a smutch Fairely enameld in a piece of touch . He that thinks so may as well entertaine A thought , that this faire snowie Christall staine , Which ( beautious Mistress ) late usurp'd your eye , Hath done your Heavenly face some injury He that thinks so nere let him have the blisse To steale from your sweet lips a Nectar kisse . Believe me ( faire ) and so you may , my duty Is to observe lest on your spotlesse beauty The least wrong makes assault , it gives like grace Being white with the black moal on Venus face ; Yea Venus happily envied your sight Which wont to dazle her inferiour light , So put out th' one eye cause it proudly strove With her which most should kindle men in love , Yet t'other to extinguish she forbore Least then like Cupid you had wounded more . If you will have me nature search , and tell you What was the cause that this fair blot befell you : It may be this , your dainty living torch Which wont the greedy amorous eye to scorch With a sweet murthering flame , when it could not wail For greif of so much slaughter it grew pale : It may be these two dainty stars in lew o th' grace which they from one another drew , ( Kind twins ) would needs like Castor and his brother Die in their turns so to enrich each other : Or whether 't were that Cupid in his flight Being drawn by such a most imperious light : Refusing all beds else doth sleeping lye White naked boy in your white spotted eye . Or thus : Heaven seeing a sun in each your eye Put out the one to scape a Prodigie ; Yet double grace from hence your beauty won Now you have a pale Moon and glistering Sun . Nor think your beauty now disgrac'd because You have but one eye , believe me natures Laws ( Being her selfe but one ) admit no store In perfect things : there 's one Sun and no more , Unlesse 't be your left eye ; nor Moons more be , Unlesse that eye make a plurality : Which Moon-like spotted is : the worlds but one : The perfect gem is call'd an union : One Earth there is , one Ocean , and the Gods Joy not in equall numbers , but in odds . To perfect all this , you my muse assures There 's still one beauty in the world , that 's yours . To Mr. Hammon Parson of Beudly For pulling down the May-pole . THe mighty zeal which thou hast late put on ; Neither by Prophet nor by Prophets son As yet prevented , doth transport me so Beyond my selfe , that though I nere could go Far in a Verse , and have all rimes defied Since Hopkins and good Thomas Sternhold died , Except it were the little paines I took To please good people in a Prayer-book That I set forth , or so : yet must I raise My spirits for thee , who shall in thy praise Gird up her loyns and furiously runne All kind of feet but Satans cloven one . Such is thy zeal , so well thou dost expresse it ▪ That wer 't not like a charme I 'd say God bless it . I needs must say it is a spirituall thing To raile against the Bishop and the King : But these are private quarrells , this doth fall Within the compasse of the Generall . Whether it be a Pole painted or wrought , Far otherwise then from the wood 't was brought : Whose head the Idol-makers hand doth crop ; Where a prophane bird towring on the top Looks like the Calfe in Horeb , at whose root The unyoakt youth doth exercise his foot : Or whether it preserves its boughs befriended By neighbouring bushes and by them attended , How canst thou chuse but seeing it complaine That Baals worship'd in the Groves againe : Tell me how curst an egging with a sting Of lust doe these unwily dances bring , The simple wretches say they mean no harme They don't indeed , but yet those actions warme Our purer blood the more : For Satan thus Tempts us the more that are more righteous . Oft hath a Brother most sincerely gone Stifled with zeal and contemplation , When lighting on the place where such repaire He views the Nimph and is clean out in his prayer : Oft hath a Sister grounded in a truth , Seeing the jolly carriage of the youth , Been tempted to the way that 's broad and bad ; And wert not for our private pleasures , had Renounced her little ruffe and goggle eye And quit her selfe of the fraternity . What is the mirth ? what is the mellody That sets them in this Gentiles vanity ? When in our Synagogues we raile at sin , And tell men of the faults that they are in , With hand and voyce so following our theams That we put out the sides men in their dreams : Sounds not the Pulpit then which we belabor Better and holier then doth a Tabor ; Yet such is unregenerate mans folly , He loves the wicked noyse , and hates the holy . If the sins sweet enticing , and the blood Which now begins to boyl , have thought it good To challenge liberty and recreation Let it be done in holy contemplation ; Brother and Sister in the field may walk , Beginning of the holy word to talk , Of David and Vriahs lovely wife Of Thamar and her lustfull Brothers strife , Then underneath the hedge that is the next They may sit down and so act out the Text . Nor doe we want , how ere we live austere , In winter Sabbath nights some lusty cheare ; And though the Pastors grace which oft doth hold Halfe an houre long make the provision cold , We can be merry thinking nere the worse To mend the matter at the second course ; Chapters are read and Hymns are sweetly sung Joyntly commanded by the nose and tongue : Then on the word we diversly dilate Wrangling indeed for heat of zeale , not hate , When at the length an unappeased doubt Fiercely comes in , and then the lights go out . Darknesse thus makes our peace , and we containe Our fiery spi●its till we meet againe : Till then no voyce is heard , no tongue does go Unlesse a tender Sister shreek or so . Such should be our delights grave and demure , Not so abominable , and impure As those thou seekst to hinder : but I fear Satan will be too strong , his kingdomes there . Few are the righteous , nor doe I know How we this Idol here shall overthrow , Since our sincerest Patron is deceas'd The number of the righteous is decreas'd : But we doe hope these times will on and breed A faction mighty for us . For indeed We labour all , and every Sister joynes To have regenerate babes spring from our loyns : Besides what many carefully have done To get the unrighteous man a righteous son . Then stoutly on , let not thy flocks range lewdly In their old vanities , thou lamp of Beudly . One thing I pray thee ; doe not so much thirst After Idolatries last fall , but first Follow thy suite more close , let it not go Till it be thine as thou woulst have't : for so Thy successors upon the same entaile Hereafter may take up the Whitsun-ale . On Mr. Sambourne , sometime Sherife of Oxford-shire . FIe , Schollers , fie , have you such thirsty souls To swill , quaffe , and carouse in Samborns bouls . Tell me , mad youngsters , what doe you believe It cost good Sambourne nothing to be Sheriffe ? To spend so many beeves , so many weathers , Maintaine so many Caps , so many Feathers . Againe is malt so cheap , this pinching year , That you should make such havock of his bear : I hear you are so many , that you make Most of his men turne Tapsters for your sake . And that when he even at the Bench doth sit , You snatch the meat from off the hungry spit : You keep such hurly burly , that it passes , Ingurgitating sometimes whole halfe glasses . And some of you , forsooth , are grown so fine , Or else so saucy , as to call for wine ; As if the Sheriffe had put such men in trust , As durst draw out more wine then needs they must . In faith , in faith , it is not well my Masters , Nor fit that you should be the Shrieffs tasters . It were enough , you being such gormondizers , To make the Shrieffs hence forth turn arrant misers Remove the Size , to Oxfords foul disgrace , To Henly on the Thames , or some such place . He never had complained had it been A petty Ferkin , or a Kilderkin : But when a Barrel daily is drunk out , My Masters , then t is time to look about . Is this a lye ? trow ye , I tell you no , My Lord High-Chancelor was informed so . And oh , what would not all the bread in Town Suffice to drive the Sheriffs liquor down : But he in hampers must it from hence bring ; Oh most prodigious , and most monstrous thing ! Upon so many loaves of home-made bread , How long might he and his two men have fed ? He would no doubt the poor they should be fed With the sweet morsells of his broken bread : But when that they poor soules for bread did call , Answer was made , the Schollers eate up all : And when for broken bear , they crav●d a cup , Answer was made , the Schollers drunk it up . And thus I know not how they change the name , Cut did the deed , and long-tale bore the blame . Vpon the Sheriffs Beere . OUr Oxford Sheriffe of late is grown so wise , As to reprieve his Beere till next Assize : A lasse t was not so strong , t was not so heady , The Jury sate and found it dead already . A journey into France . I Went from England into France , Not for to learn to sing or dance , Nor yet to ride nor fence . Nor yet did goe like one of those , That thence returne with halfe the nose They carried from hence . But I to Paris rode along , Much like John Dory in the song , Upon a holy tide . I on an ambling Nagge did get , I trust he is not paid for yet . And spur'd him on each side . And to St. Dennis first we came , To see the sights of Nostredam , The man that shewes them snuffles . Where who is apt for to believe , May see our Ladies right arme sleeve , And eke her old pantafles . Her brest , her milk , her very gown , That she did weare in Bethlem Town , When in the Inne she lay . No Carpenter could by his trade Gaine so much coyn as to have made A Gown of so rich stuffe . Yet they poor fooles think 't worth their credit , They must believe old Joseph did it , Cause he deserv'd enough . There is one of the Crosses Nailes , Whcih who so sees his Bonnet vailes , And if he will may kneel . Some say t is false t was never so ; Yet feeling it thus much I know , It is as true as steel . There is the Ianthorn which the Jewes , When Judas led them forth did use , It weighs my weight down-right . But to believe it you must think , The Jewes did put a candle in 't , And then t was wondrous light . There 's one Saint there hath lost his nose , Another his head , but not his toes , His elbow and a thumb . But when we had seen these holy rags , We went to the Inne and took our Nags , And so away did come . We came to Paris on the Sene , T is wondrous faire , but nothing cleane , T is Europes greatest Town . How strong it is I need not tell it , For all the world may easily smell it , That walk it up and down . There many strange things are to see , The Pallace , the great Gallery The Pallace doth excell . The New-bridge , and Statues there : At Nostredam St. Christopher , The Steeple bears the bell . For learning the University ; And for old cloths the Frippery , The house the Queen did build . St. Innocents whose earth devours Dead corps in four and twenty hours , And there the King was kil'd . The Basteel , and St. Dennis street , The Shatteet just like London Fleet , The Arsenall no toy . But if you 'l see the prettiest thing , Go to the Court and see the King , Oh t is a hopefull boy . He is of all his Dukes and Peers , Reverencd for his wit and years : Nor must you think it much . For he with little switch can play , And can make fine durt Pies of clay , Oh never King made such . A Bird that can but kill a fly , Or prate , doth please his Magesty , T is known to every one . The Duke of Guise gave him a Parrot , And he had twenty Cannons for it , For his great Gallioone . Oh that I ere might have the hap To get that Bird which in the Map Is call'd the Indian Duck ; I 'd give it him , and hope to be As great as Guise or Liciny , Or else I had bad luck . Birds about his Chamber stand , And he them feeds with his own hand ; T is his humility : And if they doe want any thing , They need but whistle for their King , And he comes presently . But now for these good parts he must Needs be instil'd Lewis the just , Great Henryes lawfull heire . When to his stile to adde more words , They had better call him King of Birds , Then of the lost Navarre . He has besides a pretty firke , Taught him by nature how to work In Iron with much ease : Sometimes into the Forge he goes , And there he knocks , and there he blows , And makes both locks and keys . Which puts a doubt in every one , Where he be Mars or Vulcans son ; Some few believe his mother , Yet let them all say what they will , I am resolv'd and doe think still , As much the one or t'other . The people don't dislike the youth , Alleging reasons . For in truth Mothers should honoured be . Yet others say he loves her rather , As well as ere she lov'd his Father , And that 's notoriously . His Queen a little pretty wench , Was born in Spaine , speaks little French , Nere like to be a Mother : For her incestuous house could not Have children unlesse they were begot By Uncle or by Brother . Now why should Lewis being so just , Content himselfe to take his lust , With his Licina's mate : And suffer his little pretty Queen , From all her race that ere has been So to degenerate . T were charity for to be known To love strange chlldren as his own ; And why it is no shame : Unlesse he yet would greater be , Then was his Father Henry , Who some thought did the same BEN : JOHNSON To Burlace . WHy though I be of a prodigious wast , I am not so voluminous and vast But there are lines wherewith I may be embrac'd ▪ T is true , as my womb swells , so my backstoops , And the whole lump grows round , deform'd and droops ; But yet the run of Heidleb : has hoops . You are not tyed by any Painters Law , To square my circle , I confesse , but draw My superficies , that was all you saw : Which if in compasse of no art it came To be describ●d , but by a Monagram , With one great blot you have drawn me as I am . But whilst you curious were to have it be An Archetype for all the world to see , You have made it a brave peece , but not like me . Oh had I now the manner , mastery , might , Your power of handling shadow , aire , and sprite , How I could draw , behold , and take delight ; But you are he can paint , I can but write , A Poet hath no more then black and white , Nor has he flattering colours , or false light . Yet when of friendship I would draw the face , A letterd mind , and a large heart would place To all posterity , I would write Burlace . Vpon the death of Prince HENRY . KEep station nature , and rest Heaven sure On thy supporters shoulders , lest past cure Thou dash'd by ruine fall with a great weight ; T will make thy Basis shrink , and lay thy height Low as the Centre . Death and horror wed To vent their teeming mischiefe : Henryes dead . Compendious eloquence of death , two words Breath stronger terror then plague , fire , or swords Ere conquerd . Why , t is Epitaph and Verse Enough to be prefixt on natures Herse At Earths last dissolution . Whose fall Will be lesse griveous , though more Generall . For all the woe ruine ere buried , Lies in this narrow compasse : Henries dead . On the BIBLE . BEhold this little Volume here enrold , T is the Almighties Present to the world . Hearken Earth , Earth : Each senslesse thing can hear His makers thunder , though it want an eare . Gods word is senior to his work ; nay rather If rightly weighd , the world may call it Father . God spake , t was done : this great foundation Was but the makers exhalation , Breathd out in speaking . The least work of man Is better then his word ; but if we scan Gods word aright , his works far short doe fall : The word is God , the works are creatures all . The sundry peeces of this generall frame Are dimmer letters , all which spell the same Eternall word . But these cannot expresse His greatnesse with such easie readinesse , And therefore yeeld . For heaven shall pass away , The Sun , the Moon , the Stars , shall all obey To light one generall boon-fire ; but his word His builder up , his all destroying sword Yet still survives , no jot of that can dye , Each tittle measures immortality . Once more this mighty word his people greets , Thus lapp●d and thus swath'd up in Paper sheets . Read here Gods Image with a zealous eye , The legible and written Deity . Vpon some pieces of work in York House . VIew this large Gallery faced with mats and say , Is it not purer then Joves milky way ? Which should he know , mortals might justly fear He would forsake his Heaven and sojourne here . Here on a River rides a silver swan , Vailing her swelling sailes , and hath began Her merry will , and left Meander dry , Rather intending in this place to dye . So curious is the work , the art so sweet , That men stand back lest they should wet their feet . Here 's Joseph and his Brethren , he in state Enthroned in a Chaire , his dream his fate . His brethren they stand bare , and though the board Be dumb , each posture of them call him Lord . Joseph conceals his tears with hard restraint , Which would gush out should they not spoile the paint . Under a tree whose arms were wide displayed And broidered with blossomes , Venus layed Her naked body , which when men espy , Modesty 'gins to check the saucy eye , They steal a look ; but why ? lest she , they say ; Seeing them look should rise and run away . Well doth the Sun refuse his face to shew , Blushing to see so faire a face below : Which had Pigmalion seen so truely faire , He would have married streight and sav'd his prayer . For life , which was the others only bliss He beg'd of Venus , art hath given this . Divert your eye from this seducing sight , And see the Dear & Heardgrooms harmeles fight , One gasping lies , where with consenting strife , The Painter and the poorman tug for life . Well may you say that see his hanging head , The Pictures lively , though the man be dead . Open the door and let my eyes come in , A place that would entice a Saint to sin ; Almost too dear for man to tread upon , A floor all diaperd with Marble stone , Feet touch our feet . This mystery beguiles Philosophy of many thousand wiles . Nay to encrease the miracle ; with ease We here become our own Antipodes . What ruder age did think the best of all , {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman} hangs on every wall , Quite hung with it , where every eye may see Not more what we doe seem then what we be . The glasse so steals us from us that you 'd swear That we the shadow that the substance were , Which doth not take impression but doth give . Here might Narcissus see himselfe and live ; Nor for the pleasure of one fading houre , Eternally be damn'd into a flower . Sir Henry Wotton on Q : ELIZABETH . YE glorious trifles of the East , Whose estimation fancies raise , Pearles , Rubies , Saphirs , and the rest Of precious Gems , what is your praise When as the Diamond shewes his raise ? Ye Violets that first appear , By your blew Purple Matles known , Like the proud virgins of the year , As if the spring were all your own , What are you when the Rose is blown ? Ye lesser beauties of the night , That weakly satisfies our eyes More by your number then your light , Like common people of the skies , What are ye when the Moon doth rise ? Ye warbling chanters of the wood , That still our eares with natures layes , Thinking your passions understood By accents weak . What is your praise When Philomel her notes doth raise ? So when my Princesse shall be seen In sweetnesse of her looks and mind , By vertue first then choise a Queen ; Tell whether she were not assing'd To ecclipse the glory of her kind . The Rose , the Violet , and the whole spring May to her breath for sweetnesse run , The Diamonds darkned in the ring ; When she appears the Moons undone , As at the brightnesse of the Sun . On the Princes birth . WEll fare the Muses which in well chimb'd verse Our Princes noble birth do sing , I have a heart as full of joy as theirs , As full of duty to my King : And thus I tell How every bell Did sound forth Englands merry glee ; The boon-fires too With much adoe , It were great pitty to belye her , Made London seem as all one fire ; A joyfull sight to see . The wisest Citizens were drunk that day , With Bear and wine most soundly paid : The Constables in duty reeld away , And charged others them to aide . To see how soon Both Sun and Moon And seven Stars forgotten be : But all the night Their heads were light With much exalting of their horne , Because the Prince of Wales was borne ; A joyfull sight to see . The Dutchmen they were drunk six dayes before And prayed us to excuse their joy . The Frenchmen vow'd nere to be sober more , But drink healths to the royall boy In their own wine Both brisk and fine . The valient Irish cram a cree , It pledged hath In Usquebath : And being in a joviall vaine They made a bog even of their braine : A joyfull sight to see . The Scots in bonny Ale their joy did sing , And wisht this royall babe a man , That they might beg him for to be their King , And let him rule them when he can ▪ The Spaniards made A shrug and said , After my pipe come follow me ; Canary Sack Did go to rack , Our Gentlemen with them took part , The Papists drunk it with an heart : A joyfull sight to see . A Welch for joy her cozen Prince was born , Doe mean to change St. Davids day , Swearing no leeks hereafter shall be worne But on the twenty ninth of May . None so merry Drinking Perry And Metheglin on her knee , Every man His crock and can : Thus arm'd the Devill they defied , And durst tell Belzebub she lyed : A joyfull sight to see . But whilst the bells about us made a din , And boon-fires for our Prince we make ; The Puritans doe onely burne within Spirituall fagots for his sake , Should they maintaine A fire prophane They 'd rather martyrs wish to be , But this remit Till Judges sit , Next Sessions some or other may Find wholesome Tyburne in their way : A joyfull sight to see . A Letter to his Mistresse . GO happy Paper , by command Take liberty to kisse an hand More white then any part of thee , Although with spots thou graced be . The glory of the chiefest day , The morning aire perfum'd in May : The first-borne Rose of all the spring , The down beneath the Turtles wing ; A Lute just reaching to the eare , What ere is soft is sweet is faire , Are but her shreds , who fills the place And summe of every single grace . As in a child the nurse discries , The mothers lips , the fathers eyes , The uncles nose , and doth apply Honours to every part ; so I In her could analize the store Of all the choice ere nature wore ; Each private peece to minde may call Some Earth , but none can match it all ; Poor Emblems they can but expresse One Element of comlinesse ; None are so rich to shew in one All simples of perfection : Nor can the Pencil represent More then the outward lineament ; Then who can limbe the Portraiture Of beauties live behaviour : Or what can figure every kind Of jewels that adorne the mind ? Thought cannot draw her Picture full , Each thought to her is grosse , is dull . On the Earle of Pembroke's Death . DId not my sorrows sighd into a verse Deck the sad pomp and mourning of thy hearse ; I 'd swear thy death the birth of hasty fame , Begot to try our sorrowes with thy name . I le not believe it yet ; it cannot sort With earnest thou shouldst dye of meere report : Newes cannot kill , nor is the common breath , Fate , or infection . Shall I think that death Struck with so rude a hand , so without art To kill , and use no Preface to his dart . Come Pembrocke lives . Oh doe not fright our eares With such destroying truth , first raise our fears And say he is not well ; that will suffice To force a river from the publick eyes . Or if he must be dead , Oh let the newes Speak 't in a stonish'd whisper , let it use Some phrase without a voyce , 't would too much cloud Our apprehension should it speak aloud . Let 's hear it in a Riddle , or so told As if the labouring sence grieved to unfold Its doubtfull woe . Hadst thou endured the gout , Or lingring of thy Doctor ( which no doubt Had bin the worse disease ) the publick zeal Had conquered fate and sav'd thee ; but to steal A close departure from us , and to dye Of no disease , but of a Prophesie , Is mystery not fate : nor wert thou kild Like other men , but like a type fulfilld . So suddenly to dye is to deceive ; Nor was it death , but a not taking leave : T is true the shortnesse doth forbid to weep , For so our Fathers dying fell asleep : So Enoch whilst his God he did adore , Instead of suffering death was seen no more . But oh this is too much , and we should wrong Thy ashes , thought we not this speed to long . Methinks a dream had serv'd , or silent breath , Or a still pulse , or something like to death . Now t were detraction to suppose a tear , Or the sad weeds which the glad mourners wear Could value such a losse . He that mourns thee Must bring an eye can weep an Elegy : A look that would save blacks , whose heavy grace Chides mirth , and wears a funerall in the face : Whose sighs are with such feeling sorrow blown That all the aire he draws returns a groan . That griefe doth nearest fit that is begun When the year ends and when the blacks are done . Thou needst no guilded Tomb , superfluous cost Is best bestowed on them whose names are lost . Hadst thou no Statue , thy great memory Were Marble to it selfe , the bravery Of Jet or rich Enammel were mispent Where the brave Course is its own ornament . In thee shine all high parts , which falsly wit Or flattering raptures for their Lord beget , When they would faigne an Epitaph , and write As if their griefe made legs when they indite ; Such dutifull untruths , that ere he grieve , The Readers first toile is how to believe . Thy greatnesse was no Idoll , state in thee Receiv'd its lustre from humility . He that will blaze thy Coat , and onely looks How thou wer 't Noble by the Heraulds books , Mistakes thy linage ; and admiring blood , Forgets thy best descent , vertue and good . These are too great for Scutcheons , and made thee Without fore-fathers thine own Pedigree . Vpon his chast Mistresse . LOve , give me leave to serve thee , and be wise ; To keep thy torch in , and restore blind eyes : I le such a flame into my bosome take , As Martyrs court when they embrace the stake ; No dull and smoaky fire , but heat divine , That burns not to consume but to refine . I have a Mistresse for perfections rare In every eye , but in my thoughts most faire . Like tapers on the Altar shine her eyes , Her breath is the perfume of sacrifice : And wheresoever my fancy would begin , Still her perfection lets Religion in . I touch her as my beads without devout care , And come unto my courtship as my prayer . We sit and talk and kisse away the houres As chastly , as the mornings dew kisse flowers . We were no flesh , but one another greet As blessed soules in seperation meet . I might have lustfull thoughts to her of all Earths heavenly quire the most Angelicall ; But looking in my brest her forme I find That like my Guardian Angell keeps my mind From rude attempts , and when affections stir I calme all passions with one thought of her . Thus they whose reason loves , and not their sence , The spirit love . Thus on intelligence Reflects upon his like , and by chast loves In the same sphear this and that Angel moves : Nor is this barren love : each noble thought Begets another , and that still is brought To bed of more , vertues and grace encrease ; And such a numerous issue nere can cease : Where children ( though great blessings ) onely be Pleasures repriev'd to some postery . Beasts love like men , if men in lust delight , And call that love which is but appetite . When Essence meets with Essence , and souls joyn In mutuall knots , that 's the true nuptiall twine . Such Lady is my love , and such is true ; All other love is to your sex , not you . On a Painters handsome Daughter . SUch are your Fathers Pictures , that we doe Believe they are not counterfeit but true : So lively and so fresh that we may swear Instead of draughts he hath placed creatures there , People not shadowes ; which in time will be Not a dead number but a colony . Nay more ; yet some think they have skill and arts , That they are well bred , pictures of good parts ; And you your selfe faire Julia doe disclose Such beauties that you may seem one of those , That having motion gaind at least and sence , Began to know it selfe and stole from thence ; Whilst thus his aemulous art with nature strives , Some think h'hath none , others he hath two wives . If you love none ( faire maide ) but look on all , You then among his set of Pictures fall ; If that you look on all and love all men , The Pictures too will be your Sisters then . Your choise must shew you are of another fleece , And tell you are his daughter not his piece . All other proofes are vaine , go not about ; We two will embrace , and love , and clear the doubt . When you have brought forth your like the world will know You are his Child ; what Picture can doe so ? To Dr. Price writing Anniversaries on Prince HENRY . Even so dead Hector thrice was triumphd on The walls of Troy , thrice slaine when fate had don : So did the barbarous Greeks before their hoast Turmoile his ashes and prophane his Ghost : As Henryes vault , his pure and sacred hearse Is torne and batter'd by thy Anniverse . Wast not enough nature and strength were foes , Unlesse thou yearly murther him in prose . Or didst rhou hope thy ravening verse could make A louder eccho then the Almanack . Trust me November doth more gastly look In Dades and Hopsons penniworth then thy book ; And sadder record their sixt figure bears , Then thy false Printed and ambitious tears . And wer 't not for Chrismas which is nigh , When fruits , when eaten and digested Pye Call for more paper , no man could make shift How to employ thy writing to his thrift . Wherefore forbear for pitty or for shame , And let some richer pen redeem his name From rottennesse ; then leave him captive , since So vile a price nere ransom'd such a Prince . A Reply upon an Answer to the former Copy . NOr is it grieved , grave you the memory Of such a story , such a book as he , That such a Copy might through the world be read : Yet Henry lives though he be buried . It could be wishd that every day would bear Him one good witnesse that he still were here . That sorrow rul'd the year , and by this Sun Each man could tell thee how the day had run ▪ O 't were an honest cause for him could say , I have bin busie and wept out the day Remembring him . His name would ever last , Were such a trophy , such a banner plac'd Upon his grave as this ; Here a man lies Was kild by Henryes dart not destinies . But for a Cobler to throw up his cap And cry the Prince the Prince ; O dire mishap ! Or a Geneva bridegroom after Grace To throw his spouse i th' fire , or scratch her face To the tune of the lamentation , and delay His friday capon to the Sabbath day ; Or an old Popish Lady halfe vowed dead To fast away the day in gingerbread ; For him to write such Annals : all these things Doe open laughter and shut up griefes springs . Wherefore Vertumnus if you le Print the next , Bring better notes , or chuse a fitter text . On a Lady that dyed of the small pox . O Thou deformed unwomanlike desease ! That plowest up flesh and blood and sowest there pease ; And leav'st such prints on beauty if thou come , As clouted shoon doe in a floare of loame : Thou that of faces honicombs dost make , And of two breasts two cullinders ; forsake Thy deadly trade , thou now art rich , give ore And let our curses call thee forth no more , Or if thou needs wilt magnifie thy power Goe where thou art invoked every hour Amongst the gamesters , where they name thee thick At the last man or the last pocky nick . Thou who hast such superfluous store of gaine , Why strikst thou one whose ruine is thy shame ? O thou hast murdred where thou shouldst have kist , And where thy shaft was needful , there thou mist . Thou shouldst have chosen out some homely face Where thy ill-favourd kindness might add grace , That men might say , how beautious once was she , And what a curious piece was mard by thee : Thou shouldst have wrought on some such Lady-mould That never loved her Lord nor ever could Untill she were deformed ; thy tyranny Were then within the rules of charity . But upon one whose beauty was above All sorts of art , whose love was more then love . On her to fix thy ugly counterfeit , Was to erect a Piramid of jet , And put out fire ; to dig a turfe from Hell , And place it where a gentle soule should dwell ▪ A soule which in the body would not stay , When t was no more a body , nor pure clay , But a huge ulcer ; o thou heavenly race , Thou soule that shunst the infection of thy case , Thy house , thy prison , pure soule , spotless faire , Rest where no heat , no cold , no compounds are ▪ Rest in that country , and enjoy that ease , Which thy fraile flesh denied , and thy disease . Vpon the Kings Returne to the City of London when he came last thether from Scotland and was entertained there by the Lord Mayor . SIng and be merry King Charles is come back , Le ts drink round his health with Claret & Sack : The Scots are all quiet , each man with his pack May cry now securely , come see what you lack . Sing and be merry boyes , sing and be merry , London's a fine Town so is London-Derry . Great preparation in London is made To bid the King welcome each man gives his aide , With thanksgiving cloths themselves they arrayd ( I should have said holy-day ) but I was afraid . Sing &c. They stood in a row for a congratulation Like a company of wild-geese in the old fashion : Railes in the Church are abomination , But Railes in the street are no innovation . Sing &c. My Lord Mayor himselfe on cock-horse did ride Not like a young Gallant with a sword by his side T was carried before him , but there was espied The crosse-bar in the hilt by a Puritan eyed . Sing &c. Two dozen of Aldermen ride two by two , Their Gowns were all scarlet , but their noses were blew ▪ The Recorder made a speech , if report it be true , He promis'd more for them then ere they will do . Sing &c. They should be good subjects to the King and the State , The Church they would love , no Prelates would hate ; But methinks it was an ominous fate They brought not the King thorow Bishops-gate . Sing &c. The Citizens rod in their Golden Chaines Fetch'd from St. Martyns , no region of Spaines : It seems they were trobl'd with Gundamors pains , Some held by their pummels and some by their manes . Sing &c. In Jackets of Velvet , without Gown or Cloak , Their faces were wainscot , their harts were of oke : No Trainbands were seen , no drums beat a stroke , Because City Captains of late have been broke . Sing &c. The King Queen and Prince , the Palsgrave of Rhine With two branches more of the royal vine Rod to the Guild-Hall where they were to dine , There could be no lack where the Conduits run wine . Sing &c. Nine hundred dishes in the bill of fare For the King and Nobles prepared there were ; There could be no lesse a man might well swear By the widgeons and woodcocks and geese that were there . Sing &c. Though the dinner were long yet the grace was but short , It was said in the fashion of the English Court . But one passage more I have to report , Small thanks for my paines I look to have for t . Sing &c. Down went my Lord Mayor as low as his knee , Then up went the white of an Aldermans eye : We thought the Bishops grace enlarged should be ( Not the Arch-Bishops ) no such meanign had he . Sing &c. When 's Lordship kneeld down we lookd he should pray , ( So he did heartily but in his own way ) The cup was his book , the collect for the day Was a health to King Charles , all out he did say . Sing &c. The forme of prayer my Lord did begin The rest of the Aldermen quickly were in : One Warner they had of the greatnesse of the sin Without dispensation from Burton or Prin. Sing &c. Before they had done it grew towards night , ( I forget my Lord Mayor was made a Knight : The Recorder too with another wight , Whom I cannot relate , for the torches are light . Sing &c. Up and away by St. Pauls they passe ; When a prickear'd brayd like a Puritan ass Some thought he had been scar'd with the painted glasse He swore not but cry'd high Popery by th' masse . Sing &c. The Quire with Musick on a Scaffold they see In Surplices all their Tapers burnt by , An Anthem they sung most melodiously ; If this were Popery I confesse it was high . Sing &c. From thence to White Hall there was made no stay Where the King gave them thanks for their love that day , Nothing was wanting if I could but say The House of Commons had met him half way . Sing &c. Vpon the Kings-Book bound up in a Cover coloured with His Blood . LEt abler pens commend these leaves ; whose fame Spreads through all languages , through time whose name ; Nor can those Tongues add glory to this book So great , as they from the translation took . Shine then rare piece in thine own Charls his ray ; Yet suffer me thy covering to display , And tell the world that this plain sanguine vail A beauty far more glorious doth conceal Then masks of Ladies : and although thou be A Book , where every leafe's a Library Fil'd with choise Gems of th' Arts , Law , Gospel ; The chiefest Jewel is the Cabinet . A shrine much holier then the Saint ; you may yet To this as harmelesse adoration pay , As those that kneel to Martyrs tombs , for know , This sacred blood doth Rome a Relique show Richer then all her shrines , and then all those More hallowed far , far more miraculous . Thus cloth'd go forth , bless'd Book , and yield to none But to the Gospel , and Christs blood alone . Thy Garments now like his ; so just the same , As he from Bozra , and the wine-presse came ; Both purpled with like gore : where you may see This on the Scaffold , that upon the Tree Pour'd out to save whole Nations . O may't lye Speechlesse like that , and never never cry Vengence , but pray father forgive these too , ( Poor ignorant men ! ) they know not what they doe . Vpon the Nuptials of John Talbot Esquire , and Mistresse Elizabeth Kite . COme grand Apollo tune my Lyre To harmonize in th' Muses Quire , Give me a draught of Helicon , Let Pindus and Parnassus prove Propitious in the slights of love , Though distanc'd now at Eberton . A consecrated quill I know , Pluck'd from the silver'd Swan of Po , Love-tales is onely fit to write , But since t is voted by the Stoick , Not place nor pen doth make the Poet , I le venture with a plume of th' Kite . Not for to blazen the great name Of th' Talbots never dying fame Eterniz'd in all Histories , I le onely say the Trojan wit , Which Helen stole , must now submit To Talbot in loves mysteries . For neither Egypt , Troy , nor Greece , Nor Colchis with her Golden-Fleece Hath ever ought produc'd so rare In vertue , beauty , every Grace That dignifies the mind or face , Which with this Couple may compare . The holy Priest hath firmely tied The Gordian knot , that t will abide The touch of what 's Canonicall ; And th' Pigmie Justice hath fast chain'd The Bugbeare Act , though it be proclaim'd As simple , as Apocryphall ▪ Let 's hasten therefore them to bring To th' pleasant fountaine whence doth spring The joyes of Cupids Monarchy ; There tumbling on their Nuptiall bed To batter for a Maiden-head , Twind like the Zodiack Geminie . Hence dull ey'd Somnus think not now T' inthrone upon this Ladies brow , Far choycer joyes doe her invite : For she 's now anchor'd in a Haven Where sacred Hymen her hath given An other Soveraigne of the night . Come draw the curtains , le ts depart , And leave two bodies in one heart Devoted to a restlesse rest . And when their virgin Lamps expire , May there arise from the same fire An other Phoenix in the Nest . Vpon Aglaura Printed in Folio . BY this large margent did the Poet mean To have a Comment wrote upon the Scene ? Or else that Ladies , who doe never look But in a Poem or in a Play-book , May in each page have space to scrible down When such a Lord or fashion came to Town ; As Swains in Almanacks their counts doe keep their sheep . When their cow calv'd and when they bought Ink is the life of Paper , 't is meet then That this which scap'd the Presse should feel the pen . A room with one side furnish'd , or a face Painted halfe way , is but a foule disgrace . This great voluminous Pamphlet may be said To be like one who hath more haire then head : More excrement then body , trees which sprout With broadest leaves have still the smallest fruit . When I saw so much white I did begin To think Aglaura either did lye in , Or else did pennance : never did I see Unlesse in Bills dash'd in the Chancery So little in so much , as if the feet Of Poetry were sold like Law by the sheet . Should this new fashion last but one halfe year , Poets as Clarks would make our Paper deare . Doth not that Artist erre and blast his fame That sets out Pictures lesser then the frame : Was ever Chamberlain so mad to dare To lodge a Child in the great Bed of Ware . Aglaura would please better did she lye i th' narrow bounds of an Epitome . Those pieces that are wove of th' finest twist , As Velvet , Plush , have still the smallest list . She that in Persian habits made such brags Degenerates in the excesse of rags : Who by her Giant bulk this onely gaines Perchance in Libraries to hang in chaines . T is not in books as choth , we never say Make London measure when we buy a Play , But rather have them par'd ; those leaves are faire To the judicious which most spotted are . Give me the sociable pocket books , These empty Folio's onely please the Cooks . Venus lachrimans . WAke my Adonis doe not dye , One life's enough for thee and I ; Where are thy words , thy wiles , Thy love , thy frowns , thy smiles ; Alasse in vaine I call , One death hath snatch'd them all : Yet death 's not deadly in thy face , Death in those looks it selfe hath grace . T was this , t was this I feard When thy pale ghost appeard : This I presag'd when thundering Jove Tore the best myrtle in my Grove ; When my sick rosebuds lost their smell , And from my Temples untouch'd fell ; And t was for some such thing My Dove did hang her wing . Whether art thou my Diety gone , Venus in Venus there is none : In vaine a Goddesse now am I Onely to grieve and not to dye . But I will love my griefe , Make tears my tears reliefe : And sorrows shall to me A new Adonis be ; And this no fates can rob me of , whiles I A goddesse am to weep but not to dye . An Ode in the praise of Sack . 1. HEar me as if thy eares had palate Jack , I sing the praise of Sack : Hence with Apollo and the muses nine , Give me a cup of wine . Sack will the soule of Poetry infuse , Be that my theam and muse . But Bacchus I adore no Diety , Nor Bacchus neither unlesse Sack he be . 2. Let us by reverend degrees draw nere , I feel the Goddesse here . Loe I , dread Sack , an humble Priest of thine First kisse this cup thy shrine , That with more hallowed lips and inlarg'd soule I may receive the whole : Till Sibill-like full with my God I lye , And every word I speak be Propehsie . 3. Come to this Altar you that are opprest , Or otherwise distrest , Here 's that will further grivances prevent , Without a Parliament : With fire from hence if once your blood be warm feel Nothing can doe you harme ; When thou art arm'd with Sack , thou canst not Though thunder strike thee ; that hath made thee steel . 4. Art sick man ? doe not bid for thy escape A cock to Aesculape ; If thou wouldst prosper , to this Altar bring Thy gratefull offring , Touch but the shrine , that does the God enclose , And streight thy feaver goes Whilst thou immaginst this , hee 's given thee Not onely heath but immortality . 5. Though thou wert dumb as is the scaly fry In Neptunes royalty : Drink but as they doe , and new wayes shalt find To utter thy whole mind ; When Sack more severall language has infus'd Then Babels builders used : And whensoever thou thy voyce shalt raise , No man shall understand but all shall praise . 6. Hath cruell nature so thy senses bound Thou canst not judge of sounds ? Loe where yon narrow fountaine scatters forth Streams of an unknown worth : The heavenly musick of that murmure there Would make thee turne all eare ; And keeping time with the harmonious flood , Twixt every bubble thou shalt cry good good . 7. Has fortune made thee poor , dost thou desire To heap up glorious mire ? Come to this stream where every drop's a Pearl Might buy an Earl : Drench thy selfe soundly here and thou shalt rise Richer then both the Indies . So mayest thou still enjoy with full content Midas his wish without his punishment . 8. All this can Sack , and more then this Sack can , Give me a fickle man That would be somewhat faine but knows not what , There is a cure for that : Let him quaffe freely of this powerfull flood , He shall be what he would . To all our wishes Sack content does bring , And but our selves can make us every thing . An Epitaph on some bottles of Sack and Claret laid in sand . ENter and see this tomb ( Sirs ) doe not fear No spirits but of Sack will fright you here : Weep ore this tomb , your waters here may have Wine for their sweet companion in this grave . A dozen Shakespears here inter'd doe lye ; Two dozen Johnsons full of Poetry . Unhappy Grapes could not one pressing doe , But now at last you must be buried too : T were commendable sacriledge no doubt Could I come at your graves to steal you out . Sleep on but scorne to dye , immortall liquor , The burying of thee thus shall make thee quicker . Mean while thy friends pray loud that thou maist have A speedy resurrection from thy grave . How to choose a Mistresse . HEr for a Mistresse would I faine enjoy That hangs out lip and pouts at every toy ; Speaks like a wag , is bold ; dares stoutly stand And bids love welcome with a wanton hand : If she be modest wise and chast of life , Hang her she 's good for nothing but a wife . Vpon a Picture . BEhold those faire eyes , in whose sight Sparkles a lustre no lesse bright Then that of rising Stars when they Would make the night outshine the day . To those pure lips the humming be , May as to blooming Roses flee : The wanton wind about doth hurle , Courting in vaine that lovely curle ; And makes a murmure in despaire , To dally the unmooved haire . View but the cheeks where the red Rose And Lilly white a beauty growes , So orient as might adorne The flowing of the brightest morne . Sure 't is no Picture , nere was made So much perfection in a shade : Her shape is soule enough to give A sencelesse Marble power to live . If this an Idoll be , no eye Can ever scape Idolatry . On Ladies Attire . YOu Ladies that wear Cypresse vailes , Turn'd lately to white linnen rayles ; And to your girdles wear your bands , And shew your armes instead of hands . What could you doe in Lent so meet As , fittest dresse , to wear a sheet ? T was once a band , t is now a cloak ; A acorne one day proves a oak . Weare but your linnens to your feet And then the band will be a sheet . By which device and wise excesse You doe your pennance in a dresse : And none shall know by what they see Which Ladies censur'd , and which free . The Answer . BLack Cypresse vailes are shrowds of night , White linnen railes are rayes of light , Which to our girdles though we wear We have armes to keep your hands off there . Who makes our bands to be our cloak , Makes John a stiles of John a noak . We wear our linnen to our feet , Yet need not make our band our sheet ▪ Your Clergy wear as long as we , Yet that implies conformity . Be wise , recant what you have writ , Least you doe pennance for your wit ; And least loves charmes doe weave a string To tye you as you did your ring . On a Gentlewoman that had the Small-Pox . A Beauty smoother then the Ivory plaine , Late by the Pox injuriously was slaine . T was not the Pox , love shot a thousand darts And made those pits for graves to bury hearts : But since that beauty hath regaind its light , Those hearts are doubly slaine it shines so bright . On a faire Gentlewomans blistered lip . HIde not your sprouting lip , nor kill The juicie bloom with bashfull skill ▪ Know it is an amorous dew That swells to court your corall hew . And what a blemish you esteem To other eyes a Pearl may seem ; Whose watry growth is not above The thrifty seize which Pearls doe love : And doth so well become that part That chance may seem a secret art : Doth any judge the face lesse faire Whose tender silk a moral doth bear ? Are apples thought lesse sound and sweet When honey specks and red doe meet ? Or will a Diamond shine lesse clear If in the midst a soile appear ? Then is your lip made fairer by Such sweetnesse of deformity . The Nectar which men strive to sip Springs like a well upon your lip . Nor doth it shew immodesty , But overflowing chastity . O who will blame the fruitfull trees When too much gum or sap he sees ? Here nature from her store doth send Onely what other parts can lend . If lovely buds ascend so high , The root below cannot be dry . To his Mistresse . KEepe on your mask and hide your eye , For in beholding you I dye . Your fatall beauty Gorgon-like Dead with astonishment doth strike . Your piercing eyes that now I see Are worse then Basilisks to me . Shut from mine eyes those hills of snow , Their melting vally doe not shew : Those azure pathes lead to dispaire , Oh vex me not , forbear , forbear ; For while I thus in torments dwell , The sight of Heaven is worse then Hell . In those faire cheeks two pits doe lye To bury those slaine by your eye : So this at length doth comfort me , That fairely buried I shall be : My grave with Roses , Lillies , spread , Methinks t is life for to be dead : Come then and kill me with your ●ye , For if you let me live , I dye . When I perceive your lips againe Recover those your eyes have slaine , With kisses that ( like balsome pure ) Deep wounds as soon as made doe cure ; Methinks t is sicknesse to be sound , And there 's no health to such a wound . When in your bosome I behold Two hills of snow yet never cold : Which lovers , whom your beauty kills , Revive by climing those your hills . Methinks there 's life in such a death That gives a hope of sweeter breath . Then since one death prevailes not where So many Antidotes are nere : And your bright eyes doe but in vaine Kill those who live as fast as slaine ; That I no more such death survive , Your way 's to bury me alive In place unknown , and so that I Being dead may live and living dye . A lover to one dispraising his Mistresse . WHy slight you her whom I approve ▪ Thou art no peere to try my love ; Nor canst discerne where her forme lies , Unlesse thou sawest her with my eyes Say she were foule , or blacker then The night , or Sun burnt African ; If lik't by me , 't is I alone Can make a beauty where there 's none : For rated in my fancy she Is so as she appears to me . T is not the feature or a face That doth my faire Election grace . Nor is my fancy onely led By a well temper'd white and red ; Could I enamour'd grow on those , The Lilly and the blushing Rose United in one stalk might be As dear unto my thoughts as she , But I look farther and doe find A richer beauty in her mind : Where something is so lasting faire , As time and age cannot impaire . Hadst thou a prospective so cleare That thou couldst view my object there ; When thou her vertues didst espy , thou dst wonder and confesse that I Had cause to like ; and learne from hence To love by judgement , not by sence . On the death of a faire Gentlewomans Robin-redbrest . WHatsoere birds in groves are bred Provide your anthems , Robins dead . Poor Robin that was wont to nest In faire Siloras lovely brest , And thence would peep into her eye , To see what feather stood awry . This pretty bird might freely sip The sugered Nectar from her lip . When many love-burnt soules have pined To see their rivall so retained . But what caused Robins death was this , Robin sure surfeited with blisse ; Or else cause her faire cheek-possest A purer red then Robins brest , Wherein consisted all his pride , The little bird for envy dyed . On the death of Sir Tho : Pelham . MEerely for death to grieve and mourne Were to repine that man was borne . When weak old age doth fall asleep 'T were foul ingratitude to weep . Those threds alone should force out tears Whose suddain crack breaks off some years . Here 't is not so , full distance here Sunders the cradle from the beere . A fellow-traveller he hath bin So long with time , so worn to'th skin , That were it not just now bereft His body first the soule had left . Threescore and ten is natures date , Our journey when we come in late : Beyond that time the overplus Was granted not to him , but us . For his own sake the Sun ne're stood , But onely for the peoples good : Even so he was held out by aire Which poor men uttered in their prayer : And as his goods were lent to give , So were his dayes that they might live . So ten years more to him were told Enough to make another old : Oh that death would still doe so , Or else on goodmen would bestow That wast of years which unthrifts fling Away by their distempering . That some might thrive by this decay As well as that of land and clay . T was now well done : no cause to mourne On such a seasonable stone ; Where death is but a guest , we sinne Not bidding welcome to his Inne . Sleep , sleep , goodman , thy rest embrace , Sleep , sleep , th'ast trod a weary race . Of Musick . WHen whispering straines with creeping wind Distill soft passion through the heart , And whilst at every touch we find Our pulses beat and bear a part . When threds can make Our heart-strings shake ; Philosophy can scarce deny Our soules consists in harmony . When unto heavenly joyes we feigne What ere the soule affecteth most , Which onely thus we can explaine By Musick of the winged host : Whose rayes we think Make stars to wink ; Philosophy can scarce deny Our soules consist of harmony . O lul me , lul me , charming aire , My senses each with wonder sweet ; Like snow on wool thy fallings are , Soft like spirits are thy feet . Griefe who needs fear That hath an ear ? Down let him lie And slumbring dye , And change his soule for harmony . To his Mistresse . I Le tell you how the Rose did first grow red , And whence the Lillies whitenesse borrowed . You blusht and streight the Rose with red was dight , The Lillies kiss'd your hands and so grew white . You have the native colour , these the die , And onely flourish in your livery : Before that time each Rose was but one staine , The lilly nought but palenesse did containe . On a black Gentlewoman . IF shadowes be a Pictures excellence And make it seem more glorious to the sence : If stars in brightest day are lost for sight And seem more glorious in the mask of night . Why should you think fair creature that you lack Perfection cause your eyes and haire are black . Or that your beauty , which so far exceeds The new-sprung Lillies in their maidenheads , The rosie colour of your cheeks and lips Should by that darknesse suffer an ecclipse . Rich Diamonds are fairer being set And compassed within a foileof jet . Nor can it be dame nature should have made So bright a Sun to shine without a shade . It seems that nature when she first did fancy Your rare composure studied Negromancy : And when to you these guifts she did impart She used altogether the Black Art . She framed the Magick circle of your eyes , And made those hairs the chains wherein she ties Rebellious hearts , those vaines , which doe appear Twined in Meanders about every sphear , Mysterious figures are , and when you list Your voyce commandeth like an exorcist . Now if in Magick you have skill so far Vouchsafe to make me your familiar . Nor hath kind nature her black art reveald By outward parts alone , some are conceald . As by the spring head men may easily know The nature of the streams that run below . So your black eyes and haire doe give direction , That all the rest are of the like complexion . The rest where all rest lies that blesseth man , That Indian mine , that streight of Magellan . The worlds dividing gulph , through which who venters With hoised sailes and ravishd sences enters To a new world of blisse . Pardon I pray If my rude muse presumes for to display Secrets forbid , or hath her bounds surpast In praising sweetnesse which she nere did tast : Starv'd men may talk of meat , and blind men may ( Though hid from light ) yet know there is a day . A rover in the mark his arrow sticks Sometimes as well as he that shoots at pricks . And if I might direct my shaft aright , The black mark would I hit , and not the white . On a Gentlewoman walking in the Snow . I Saw faire Cloris walk alone , When feathered raine came softly downe , And Jove descended from his Tower To court her in a silver showre : The wanton snow flew to her breast Like little birds into their nest , And overcome with whitenesse there For griefe dissolv'd into a teare , Which trickling down her garments hemme To deck her freezd into a gemme . Vpon one dead in the snow . WIthin a fleece of silent waters drownd . Before I met with death a grave I found . That which e●iled my life from her sweet home For griefe streight froze it selfe into a Tomb . Onely one Element my fate thought meet To be my death , grave , tomb , and winding sheet . Phoebus himselfe my Epitaph had writ ; But blotting many ere he thought one fit , He wrote untill my tomb and grave were gone ; And 't was an Epitaph that I had none ; For every man that pass'd along that way Without a sculpture read that there I lay . Here now the second time inclosed I lye And thus much have the best of destiny . Corruption ( from which onely one was free ) Devour'd my grave , but did not seize on me . My first grave took me from the race of men , My last shall give me back to life agen . On a woman dying in travell the child unborne . WIthin this grave there is a grave intombd , Here lies a mother and a child inwombd . T was strange that nature so much vigour gave To one that nere was born , to make a grave . Yet an injunction stranger nature willd her , Poor mother , to be tomb to that which kild her : And not with so much cruelty content , Buries the child , the grave , and monument . Where shall we write the Epitaph ? whereon ? The child , the grave , the monument is gone : Or if upon the child we write a staffe , Where shall we write the tombs own Epitaph ? Onely this way is left , and now we must As on a table carpeted with dust Make chisells of our fingers , and engrave An Epitaph both on the tomb and grave Within the dust : but when some hours are gone Will not the Epitaph have need of one ? I know it well : yet grave it therefore deep That those which know the losse may truly weep And shed their tears so justly in that place Which we before did with a finger trace , That filling up the letters they may lie As inlaid Christall to posterity . Where ( as in glasse ) if any write another Let him say thus , here lies a haplesse mother Whom cruel sate hath made to be a tomb , And kept in travell till the day of doom . On Man . ILl busied man why shouldst thou take such care To lenghthen out thy lives short callendar ; Each dropping season , and each flower doth cry Fool as I fade and wither thou must die . The beating of thy pulse when thou art well Is but the towling of thy passing bell : Night is thy hearse , whose sable Canopy Covers alike deceased day and thee . And all those weeping dewes which nightly fall Are but as tears shed for thy funerall . On Faireford windows . TEll me you anti-Saints why glasse With you is longer lived then brasse : And why the Saints have scap'd their falls Better from windowes then from walls . Is it because the brethrens fires Maintaine a glasse-house in Black-friers ? Next which the Church stands North and South , And East and West the Preachers mouth . Or i st because such painted ware Resembles something what you are , So pied , so seeming , so unsound In doctrine and in manners found , That ont of emblemattick wit You spare your selves in sparing it ? If it be so then Faireford boast , Thy Church hath kept what all have lost ; And is preserved from the bane Of either war or Puritan . Whose life is colour'd in the paint , The inside drosse , the outside Saint . On a Gentlewoman playing on the Lute . BE silent you still musick of the sphears , And every sence make hast to be all eares ; And give devout attention to her aires , To which the Gods doe listen as to prayers Of pious votaries : the which to hear Tumult would be attentive , and would swear To keep lesse noise at Nile if there she sing , Or with a sacred touch grace but one string . Amongst so many auditors , so many throngs Of Gods and men , that presse to hear her songs , Oh let me have an unespied room , And die with such an anthem ore my tomb . On Love . WHen I do love I would notwish to speed , To plead fruition rather then desire , But on sweet lingring expectation feed , And gently would protract not feed my fire . What though my love a martyrdome you name , No Salamander ever feels the flame . That which is obvious I as much esteem As Courtiors doe old cloths : for novelty Doth rellish pleasures , and in them we deem The hope is sweeter then the memory . Injoying breeds a glut , men better tast Comforts to come , then pleasures that are past . The Catholick . I Hold as faith What Romes Ch : saith Where the King is head The flocks misled Where the Altars drest The peoples blest He 's but an asse Who shuns the Masse What Englands Church alow My conscience disallowes That Church can have no shame That holds the Pope supreame There 's service scarce divine With table bread and wine Who the Communion flies Is Catholick and wise . On Faireford windowes . I Know no paint of Poetry Can mend such colours Imagery In sullen inke ; Yet Faireford I May rellish thy faire memory . Such is the ecchoes fainter found ; Such is the light when Sun is drownd . So did the fancy look upon The work before it was begun . Yet when those shews are out of sight My weaker colours may delight . Those Images so faithfully Report the feature to the eye , As you would think each picture was Some visage in a looking-glasse ; Not a glasse-window face , unlesse Such as Cheap-side hath , when a presse Of painted Gallants looking out Bedeck the casement round about . Bnt these have holy phisnomy ; Each pane instructs the laity With silent eloquence , for here Devotion leads the eye not eare To note the cetechising paint ; Whose easie phrase did so acquaint Our sence with Gospel that the Creed In such a hand the weak may read . Such types can yet of vertue be , And Christ as in a glasse we see . Behold two Turtles in one Cage With such a lovely equipage , As they who mark them well may doubt Some young ones have been there stolne out . When with a fishing rod the Clark St. Peters draught of fish doth mark : Such is the scale , the eye , the fin , You 'd think they strove and leap'd within : But if the net which holds them brake He with his angle some would take . But would you walk a turne in Pauls , Look up , one little pane inroules A fairer Temple , fling a stone The Church is out of the window flown . Consider but not ask your eyes , And ghosts at mid-day seem to rise . The Saints their striving to descend Are past the glasse and downward bend . Look there the Devils all would cry , Did they not see that Christ was by . See where he suffers for thee , see His body taken from the tree : Had ever death such life before ? The limber corps besullied ore With meager palenesse doth display A middle state 'twixt flesh and clay : His armes , his head , his legs , his crown Like a true Lambskin dangling down : Who can forbear the grave being nigh To bring fresh ointment in his eye ? The Puritans were sure deceiv'd Who thought those shadows mov'd and heav'd . So held from stoning Christ ; the wind And boisterous tempests were so kind As on his Image not to pray , Whom both the winds and Sea obey . At Momus wish be not dismaied ; For if each Christians heart were glaz'd With such a window , then each breast Might be his own Evangelist . On the praise of an ill-favourd Gentlewoman . MArry and love thy Flavia , for she Hath all things whereby others beautious be : For though her eyes be small , her mouth is great , Though her lips Ivory be , her teeth be jet : Though they be dark , yet she is light enough , And though her harsh hair fail , her skin is rough , And what if it be yellow , her haires red , Give her but thine she has a maidenhead . These things are beauties elements , where these Compounded are in one she needs must please : If red and white and each good quality Be in the wench , nere ask where it doth lye : In buying things perfumed we ask if there Be musk and amber in it , but not where . Though all her parts be not i th' usuall place , She hath the anagram of a good face . When by the gam-ut some Musitians make A perfect song , others will undertake By the same gam-ut chang'd to equall it : Things simply good can never be unfit . For one nights revells silk and gold we use , But in long journies cloth and leather chuse . Beauty is barren oft ; and husbands say There 's the best land where is the foulest way . And what a soveraigne medicine will she be If thy past sins have taught thee jealousie . Here needs no spies nor Eunuchs : her commit Safe to thy foes yea to thy Marmoset . When Belgias Cities th' ruind country drown That durty foulness armes and guards the Town . So doth her face guard her , and so for thee , Which by occasion absent oft mayest be . She whose face like the clouds turns day to night , And mightier then the Sea makes Moors seem white . Who though seven years she in the street hath laid A Nunnery durst receive and think a maid . And though in child-bed-labour she did lie Midwives would swear 't were but a tympany . If she accuse her selfe , I 'le credit lesse Then witches which impossibles confesse . Vpon Heavens best Image , his faire and vertuous Mistresse M. S. THe most insulting tyrants can but be Lords of our bodies , still our minds are free . My Mistress thralls my soul , those chains of Gold Her locks my very thoughts infetterd hold . Then sure she is a Goddesse , and if I Should worship her , 't is no Idolary . Within her cheeks a fragrant garden lies Where Roses mixt with Lillies feast mine eyes : Here 's alwayes spring , no winter to annoy Those heavenly flowers , onely some tears of joy Doe water them , and sure if I be wise This garden is another Paradice . Her eyes two heavenly lamps , whose orderd motion Swayes all my reason , my sence , my devotion ; And yet those beams did then most glorious shine When passions dark had maskd this soul of mine : Now if the night her glory best declare , What can I deem them but a sta●ry paire . Her brow is vertues court , where she alone Triumphant sits in faultlesse beauties throne : Did you but mark its purenesse , you would swear Diana's come from Heaven to sojourne there . Onely this Cynthia dims not even at noon , There wants a man ( methinks ) in such a Moon . Her breath is great Joves incense , sweeter far Then all Arabian winds and spices are : Her voyce the sphears best Musick , and those twins ▪ Her armes a precious paire of Cherubs wings . In briefe she is a map of Heaven , and there O would that I a constellation were . The black maid to the faire boy . FAire boy ( alasse ) why fliest thou me That languish in such flames for thee . I me black , t is true ; why so is night , And lovers in dark shades delight . The whole world doe but close your eye Will be to you as black as I : Or ope't and view how dark a shade Is by your own faire body made , Which followes thee where ere thou goe , O who allowed would not doe so : Then let me ever live so nigh , And thou shalt need no shade but I. His Answer . BLack girle complaine not that I fly , Since fate commands antipathy . Prodigious must that union prove Where black and white together move : And a conjunction of our lips Not kisses makes but an ecclipse , In which the mixed black and white Pretends more terrour then delight . Yet if my shadow thou wilt be , Enjoy thy dearest wish ; but see Thou keep my shadows property , And flee away when I come nigh ; Else stay till death hath blinded me , And I le bequeath my selfe to thee . Verses sent to a Lady , which she sending back unread , were returned with this inscription . REead ( faire maid ) and know the heat That warmes these lines is like the beate . Thy chast pulse keeps ; thy mornings thought Hath not more temper . : were there ought On this virgin paper shed That might to crimson turne thy red I should blush for thee , but I vow T is all as spotlesse as thy brow . Read then , and know what art thou hast , That thus canst make a Poet chast . The Verses . ON a day ( 't is in thy power To make me blesse or curse that hour ) I saw thy face , they face then maskd Like Ivory in Ebon cask'd . But that dark cloud once drawn away , Just like the dawning of the day So brake thy beauty forth , and I Grew sad , glad , neither , instantly : Yet through thy mercy , or my chance , Me thought I saw a pleasing glance Thou threwst on me : a sugar smile Dimpled thy cheeks , and all the while Mirth dancd upon thy brow , to prove It came from kindnesse if not love . Oh make it good ; in this let me Not Poet but a Prophet be . And think not ( fairest ) that thy fame Is wrongd by a Poets Mistresse name ; Queens have been proud on 't , for their Kiugs Are but our subjects ; nay all things Shall unto all posterity Appear as we will have them , we Give men valour , maids chastity And beauty too : if Homer would Hellen had been an hag , and-Troy had stood . And though far humbler be my verse , Yet some there will be will rehearse And like it too perhaps ; and then The life that now thou lendst my pen The world shall pay thee back agen . The Nightingale . MY limbs were weary , and my head opprest With drowsinesse and yet I could not rest . My bed was such no down nor feathers can Make one more soft , though Jove again turn Swan . No fear distracted thoughts my slumber broke , I heard no screech-owle squeak , nor raven croak ; Nay even the flea ( that proud insulting else ) Had taken truce , and was asleep it selfe : But 't was nights darling , and the woods chiefe jewel The Nightingale that was so sweetly crewel . And wooed my ears to rob my eyes of sleep . That whilst she sung of Tereus , they might weep , And yet rejoyce the tyrant did her wrong , Her cause of woe was burthen of her song ; Which whilst I listned too , and greiv'd to hear , T was such I could have wish'd my selfe all eare . T is false the Poets feigne of Orpheus , he Could neither move a stone , a beast , nor tree To follow him ; but wheresoere she flies She makes a grove , where Satyrs and Fairies About her perch to daunce her roundelayes , For she sings ditties to them whilst Pan playes . Yet she sung better now , as if in me She meant with sleep to try the mastery . But whilst she chanted thus , the Cock for spight ( Dayes hoarser herauld ) chid away the night . Thus rob'd of sleep , mine eyelids nightly guest , Methought I lay content , though not at rest . Barclay his Epitaph . HE that 's imprisoned in this narrow room Wer 't not for custome needs nor verse nor tomb ; Nor can there from these memory be lent To him , who must be his tombs monument ; And by the vertue of his lasting name Must make his tomb live long , not it his fame . For when this gaudy pageantry is gone , Children of the unborn world shall spy the stone That covers him , and to their fellowes cry Just here , just here abouts Barclay doth lie . Let them with faigned titles fortifie Their tombs , whose sickly vertues fear to die . And let their tombs belie them , call them blest , And charitable marble faigne the rest . He needs not , when lifes true story is done , The lying proscript of a perjured stone . Then spare his tomb , that 's needlesse and unsafe , Whose virtue must outlive his Epitaph . A welcome to Sack . SO soft streams meet , so streams with gladder smiles Meet after long divorcement by the Iles When love the child of likenesse leadeth on Their christall natures to an union . So meet stoln kisses when the moon-shine nights Call forth fierce lovers to their wisht delights . So Kings and Queens meet when desire convinces All thoughts but those that aime at getting Princes ; As I meet thee soule of my life and fame ▪ Eternall lamp of love , whose radiant flame Out-stares the Heavens Osiris , and thy gleams Darkens the splendour of his midday beames . Welcome ô welcome my illustrious spouse , Welcome as is the end unto my vowes . Nay far more welcome then the happy soyl The Sea-scourg'd Merchant after all his toyl Salutes with tears of joy , when fires display The smoaking chimnies of his Ithaca . Where hast thou been so long from my embraces Poor pittied exile , tell me did thy graces Fly discontented hence , and for a time Did rather chuse to blesse some other clime : And was it to this end thou wentst to move me More by thy absence to desire and love thee . Why frowns my sweet ? why does my Saint defer Her bosome smiles from me her worshipper . Why are those happy looks ( the which have bin Time past so fragant ) sickly now drawn in Like a dull twilight ? tell me has my soul Prophaned in speech , or done an act more foul Against thy purer nature , for that fault I le expiate with fire , with haire , and salt , And with the christall humour of the spring Purge hence the guilt , and aire , the quarrelling . Wilt thou not smile , or tell me what amisse , Have I bin cold to hug thee , too remisse And temperate in embracings ? has desire To thee-ward died in the embers , and no fire Left in this rak'd up ash-heap as a mark To testifie the glowing of a spark ? Have I divorc'd thee onely to combine ▪ And quench my lust upon some other wine ? True I confesse I left thee , and appeal T was done by me more to confirm my zeal And double my affection , as doe those Whose love grows more inflam'd by being foes . But to forsake thee ever , could there be A thought of such impossibility ? When thou thy self dost say thy Isles shall lack Grapes , ere that Herrick leaves Canary Sack . Thou art my life , my Heaven , salt to all My dearest dainties , thou the principall Fire to all my functions , giv'st me blood , Chine , spirit , and marrow and what else is good , Thou mak'st me airy , active , to be borne Like Iphictus upon the tops of corne , And mak'st me winged like the nimble Howers To dance and caper on the heads of flowers , And ride the Sunbeams . Can there be a thing Under the heavenly Isis that can bring More love unto my life , or can present My Genius with a fuller blandishment ? A Parodox on the praise of a painted face . NOt kiss ? by Jove I must and make impression As long as Cupid dares to hold his Session Upon thy flesh and blood , our kisses shall Out minute time , and without number fall . Doe not I know these balls of blushing red That on thy cheeks thus amorously are spred ; Thy snowy neck , those veins upon thy brow Which with their azure crinkling sweetly bow , Are from art borrowed , and no more thine own Then chains that on St. Georges day are shown Are proper to the wearer ? yet for this I Idoll thee , and beg a courteous kisse . The Fucus and Cerusse which on thy face The cunning hand doth lay to add more grace , Deceive me with such pleasing fraud , that I Find in thy art wh●t can in nature lie : Much like a Painter which upon some wall On which the cadent Sun-beams use to fall , Paints with such art a guilded butterfly , That silly maids with slow-made fingers try To catch it , and then blush at their mistake , Yet of this painted fly much reckoning make . Such is our state , since what we look upon Is nought but colour and proportion : Give me a face that is as full of lies As Gipsies or your cunning Lotteries ; That is more false and more sophisticate Then are your reliques , or a man of state : Yet such being glazed by the slight of art Gaine admiration , and win many a heart . Put case there be a difference in the mould , Yet may thy Venus be more brisk and bold . — for oftentimes we see Rich Candy wines in wooden bowles to be . The odoriferous Civet doth not lye Within the Muscats nose , or eare , or eye , But in a baser place : for prudent nature In drawing up the various forms and stature , Gives from the curious shop of her large treasure To faire parts comelinesse , to baser pleasure . The fairest flower that in the spring doth grow Is not so much for use , as for a show . As Lillies , Hyacinths , the gorgeous birth Of all pied flowers which diaper the earth , Please more with their discolourd purple traine Then wholesom potherbs which for use remaine . Should I a golden speckled Serpent kisse Because the colour which he wears is his ? A perphum'd cordovant who would not wear , Because it s sent is borrowed other where ? The cloths and vestiments which grace us all Are not our own but adventitiall . Time rifles natures beauty , but sly art Repaires by cunning each decaied part , Fills here a wrinkle , and there purles a veine ; And with a cunning hand runs ore againe The breaches dented by the pen of time , And makes deformity to be no crime ▪ So when great men are grip'd by sicknesse : hand , Illustrious phisick pregnantly doth stand To patch up foule diseases , and doth strive To keep their tottering carkases alive . Beauty a candle is , with every puffe Blown out , leaves nothing but a stinking snuffe To fill our nostrils with : thus boldly think The purest candle yields the foulest stink : As the pure food , and daintiest nutriment , Yields the most strong and hottest excrement . Why hang we then on things so apt to vary , So fleeting , brittle , and so temporary , That agues , coughs , the toothach , or cathar , Slight touches of diseases spoil and mar . But when that age their beauty doth displace , And plows up furrows in their once smooth face ; Then they become forsaken and do show Like stately Abbies destroyed long ago . Love grant me then a reparable face , That whilst there colours are can want no grace : Pygmalions painted statue I could love , If it were warme , and soft , or could but move . A Song . WHen Orpheus swetly did complain Upon his Lute with heavy strain How his Euridice was slain ; The trees to hear Obtain'd an eare And after left it off again . At every stroke and every stay The boughs kept time and nodding lay , And listned bending every way ; The ashen tree As well as well as he Began to shake and learnt to play . If wood could speak , a tree might hear , If wood can sound our griefe so near , A tree might drop an amber tear : If wood so well Could sound a knell , The Cypresse might condoal the bear . The standing nobles of the grove , Hearing dead wood to speak and move , The fatall axe began to love ; They envied death That gave such breath , As men alive doe Saints above . Vpon Mr. Hoptons death . GRiefs prodigals where are you ? unthrifts wher ? Whose tears and sighs extemporary are ; Pour'd out , not spent , who never ask a day Your debt of sorrow on the grave to pay ; But as if one hours mourning could suffice , Dare think it now no sin to have dry eyes : Away , profane not Hoptons death , nor shame His grave with griefe not worthy of that name : Sorrow conceiv'd and vented both together ; Like prayers of Puritans , or in foul weather The sailers forc't devotion , when in fear They pray this minute , and the next they swear . No I must meet with men , men that doe know How to compute their tears and weigh their wo ; That can set down in an exact account To what the losse of Hopton doth amount : Tell you particulars , how much of truth Of unmatch'd virtue and untainted youth Is gone with him , and having sum'd all look Like bankrupt Merchants on their table book , With eyes confounded and amaz'd to find The poor and blanck remainder left behind . On his Mistresse eye . AM I once more blest with a grace so high As to be lookt on with that other eye ? Or shall I think it once more sent againe To iterate my souls sweet lasting paine ? Your other eye , dear soule , had fire before And darts enough , you need not have sought more From this revived ; scarce could I endure The lustre of this eye when 't was obscure : How shall I now when like a fresh-born Sun It strikes forth such a new reflection ? Yet welcome , dearest torment , spare not me Dart forth more flames , they please if sent from thee I hope your eyes as they in lustre doe , Will imitate the Sun in virtue too . If plagues and sicknesses from him be sent Yet gives he warmth , life , growth and nourishment . This is my comfort now , if one eye strike , The other may give remedy alike . Welcome againe clear lamp of beauty ; shine , Shine bright on Earth as do the soule divine , To which my thoughts with like devotion run As Indians adore the rising Sun . Now shall I mine own Image view alive In this extenuating perspective , This living looking glasse , when thou shalt grace Me , sweet , so much as to admit my face Neighbour to thine , o how I then shall love To see my shape in that black stream to move : Against all reason I then more admire My shadow there , then my whole selfe entire . How oft ( though loth from that sweet seat to part ) Strive I to travell that way to thy heart ; Where if one wink doe thy quick look recall , I loose , poor wretch , my shadow , selfe , and all . Thus all the life which I so glorious thought By thy sole wink is quencht and turn'd to nought . Oh how I wont to curse that cobweb lawn Which like a curtaine ore thy eye was drawn , As if that death upon that eye did sit , And this had bin the winding sheet for it , The which , as it from off that eye was thrown , Seemd to look pale for griefe that it was gone . Yet when both this and t'other dainty robe Did close like cases that most heavenly globe , Think not they could disparage your faire eyes ; No more then painters doe their chiefest prize ; Who use to hang some veil or silken sheet , That men may more desire and long to se'it . To Dr. Griffith heald of a strange cure by Bernard Wright of Oxford . WElcome abroad , ô welcome from your bed I joy to see you thus delivered . After four years in travell issues forth A birth of lasting wonder , whereat truth Might well suspect her selfe , a new disease Borne to advance the Surgeons of our dayes Above all others : a perfidious bone Eaten and undermind by humours grown : Lodg'd in the captive thigh , which first of any Halted , yet furnisht with a bone to many ; No Golgotha , nor charnell house , nor field , If all were searcht could such another yield , A bone so lockt and hugd , as is a bar That back and forward may be wrested far But not puld out at either hole , nor could The cunning workman come to 't as he would : Crosse veins did guard the sore , a hollow cave Must wade into the flesh , the Surgeons grave Thus being digd , the file without delay Must grate the bone , and carve those chips away . Blest be the midmen whose dexterity Puld out a birth like Bacchus from the thigh . Tutors of nature , whose well guided art Can rectifie her wants in every part : Who by preserving others pay the debt They owe to nature , and doe rebeget Her strength grown ruinate : I could be glad Such liv'd the dayes which they to others add : Nor can I rightly tell the happier man The patient or the Surgeon ; doe but scan His praise thy ease , 't was sure an extasie That kild Van-otto not a lethargy ; Striving to crown his work he bravely tryed His last and greatest cure then gladly dyed . Bernard must tarry longer ; should he flye After his brother all the world must dye ▪ Or live a cripple ; Griffiths happy fate Requires the same hand still to iterate No lesse a miracle : the joyners skill Could never mend his carved pate so well As he hath heald a naturall : the stout And boasting Paracelsus who gives out His rule can give mans life eternity , Would faintly doubt of his recovery ; He that hath wrought these cures I think he can As well of scraps make up a perfect man . Oh had you seen his marrow drop away , Or the others brains drop out , then would you say Nothing could cure this fracture or that bone Save Bernard or the Resurrection . Now smile upon thy torment , pretty thing How will you use it ? bury it in a ring Like a deaths head , or send it to the grave In earnest of the body it must have : Or if you will you may the same translate Into a die because 't was fortunate ; The ring were blest , 't is like a Diamond born Out of a Rock , so was it hewn and torn Out of your thigh : the gem worth nothing is Untill it be cut forth , no more is this . Happy are you that know what treasure 't is To find lost health , they onely feel the blisse : Thou that hast felt these pains , maist wel maintain Mans chiefest pleasure is but want of pain . Enjoy thy selfe ; for nothing worse can come To one so schoold and vers'd in martyrdome . The Liberty and Requiem of an imprisoned Royalist . BEat on proud billows , Boreas blow Swell'd curled Waves high as Joves roof , Your incivility shall know , That innocence is tempest proof . Though surly Nereus frown , my thoughts are calm , Then strike ( afflictions ) for your wounds are balm . That which the world miscalls a jaile , A private closet is to me , Whilst a good conscience is my baile , And innocence my liberty . Locks , bars , walls , lonenesse , tho together met , Make me no prisoner , but an Anchoret . I , whilst I wisht to be retir'd , Into this private room was turn'd As if their wisdomes had conspir'd A Salamander should be burn'd : And like those Sophies who would drown a fish , I am condemn'd to suffer what I wish . The Cynick hug his poverty , The Pelicane her wildernesse , And 't is the Indians pride to lye Naked on frozen Caucasus . And like to these , Stoicks severe we see Make torments easie by their apathy . These manicles upon my arme I as my sweethearts favours wear , And then to keep my ancles warm I have some Iron shackles there : These walls are but my garrison , this Cell Which men call Jaile , doth prove my Citadell So he that strook at Jasons life , Thinking h' had made his purpose sure , By a malicious friendly knife , Did onely wound him to a cure . Malice I see wants wit , for what is meant Mischiefe , oft times proves favour by th' event . I 'me in this Cabinet lockt up Like some high prized Margarite ; Or like some great Mogul , or Pope , Am cloyster'd up from publique sight : Retir'dnesse is a part of majesty , And thus , proud Sultan , I 'me as great as thee . Here sin for want of food doth starve , Where tempting objects are not seen , And these walls doe onely serve To keep vice out , not keep me in ▪ Malice of late 's grown charitable sure , I 'me not committed , but am kept secure . When once my Prince affliction hath , Prosperity doth treason seem , And then to smooth so rough a path I can learn patience too from him . Now not to suffer shews no loyall heart , When Kings want ●ase subjects must love to smart . What tho I cannot see my King Either in 's person or his coyne , Yet contemplation is a thing Which renders what I have not mine ▪ My King from me no Adamant can part , Whom I doe wear ingraven in my heart . My soul 's free , as th' ambient aire , Altho my baser part 's immur'd , Whilst loyall thoughts doe still repaire T' accompany my solitude . And though rebellion doe my body bind , My King can onely captivate my mind . Have you not seen the Nightingale When turn'd a Pilgrim to a cage , How she doth sing her wonted tale In that her narrow hermitage ; Even there her chanting melody doth prove That all her bars are trees , her cage a grove . I am that bird , which they combine Thus to deprive of liberty , Who though they doe my corps confine , Yet maugre hate my soule is free : And tho immur'd , yet can I chirp and sing Disgrace to rebells , glory to my King . To his imperious Mistresse . WEll , well 't is true , I am now fal'n in love , And t is with you ; And now I plainly see , While you 'r enthron'd by me above You all your art and power improve To tyranize ore me , And make my flames the objects of your scorn , While you rejoyce , and feast your eyes , to see me quite forlorn . But yet be wise , And don't believe that I Doe think your eyes More bright than Stars can be , Or that you Angels far out-vy In their Coelestiall livery T was all but Poetry . I could have said as much by any she , You are no beauty of your selfe , but are made so by me . Though we like fools Fathome the Earth and sky , And drain the Schools For names t' expresse you by , Out-rend all loud hyperbolyes To dub our fancies Deityes By Cupids heraldry ; We know you 'r flesh and blood as well as men , And when we please can mortalize , and make you so agen . Yet since my fate Hath drawn me to the thing Which I did hate , I le not my labour loose ; But will love , and as I begin To the purpose , now my hand is in , Spight of the art you use : And have you know the world is not so bare ; Ther 's things enough to love besides such toyes as Ladies are . I 'le love good wine , I 'le love my book and muse , Nay all the nine ; I 'le love my reall friend : I 'le love my horse ; and could I chuse One that my love would not abuse , To her my love should bend . I will love those that laugh , and those that sing , I le never pine my selfe away for any female thing . On Dr. Ravis Bishop of London . WHen I pass'd Pauls and traveld on the walk Where all our Brittain sinners swear and talk : Old Harry Ruffians , Bankrupts , and South-sayers , And youths whose cousenage is as old as theirs : And there beheld the body of my Lord Trod under foot of vice which he abhord ; It griev'd me that the Landlord of all times Should set long lives and leases to their crimes , And to his springing honours should afford Scarce so much Sun as to the prophets gourd : But since swift flights of vertue have good ends , Like breath of Angells which a blessing sends And vanisheth withall , whilst fouler deeds Expect a tedious harvest for bad seeds . I blame not fame and nature , if they gave Where they could give no more , their last a grave ; And justly doe thy grieved friends forbear Marble and Alabaster boyes to rear Ore thy Religious dust , because they know Thy worth , which such allusions cannot shew , For thou hast trod amongst those happy ones , Who trust not in their superscriptions , Their hired Epitaphs and perjur'd stone , Which so belies the soule when she is gone : Thou doest commit thy body as it lies To tongues of living men , not unborn eyes ; What profits then a sheet of lead ? what good If on thy coarse a Marble quarry stood ? Let those that fear their rising purchase vaults , And rear them statues to excuse their faults ; As if like birds that peck at Painters grapes ▪ The judg knew not their persons from their shapes . Nor needs the Chancelor boast , whose Pyramis Above the House and Altar reared is ; For though thy body fill a viler room , Thou shalt not change deeds with him for his tomb On Dr. Langton . BEcause of fleshy mould we be Subject unto mortality ; Let no man wonder at his death , More flesh he had , and then lesse breath : But if you question how he dyed T was not the fall of swelling pride , T was no ambition to ascend Heaven in humility : his end ▪ Assured us his God did make This piece for our example sake . Had you but seen him in his way To Church his last best Sabbath day , His strugling soule did make such hast As if each breath should be his last ; Each stone he trod on sinking strove To make his grave , and shewed his love ▪ O how his sweating body wept , Knowing how soon it should be swept i th' mould ; but while he steals to pray , His weighty members long to stay , Each word did bring a breathlesse tear , As if he 'd leave his spirit there : He gone looks back as t were to see The place where he would buried be , Bowing as if did desire At the same time for to expire : Which being done he long shall dwell Within the place he loved so well ; Where night and morning hundreds come A Pilgrimage unto his tomb . To the Bell-Founder of great Tom of Christ-Church in Oxford . THou that by ruine doest repaire , And by destruction art a Founder : Whose art doth tell us what men are , Who by corruption shall rise sounder : In this fierce fires intensive heat , Remember this is Tom the great . And , Cyclops , think at every stroak With which thy sledge his side shall wound , That then some Statute thou hast broak Which long depended on his sound ; And that our Colledge-Gates doe cry They were not shut since Tom did die . Think what a scourge 't is to the City To drink and swear by Carfax Bell , Which bellowing without tune or pitty The night and day devides not well ; But the poor tradesmen must give ore His ale at eight or sit till four . We all in hast drink off our wine , As if we never should drink more ; So that the reckoning after nine Is larger now then that before . Release this tongue which erst could say Home Scollers ; drawer what 's to pay ? So thou of order shalt be Founder , Making a Ruler for the people , One that shalt ring thy praises rounder Then t'other six bells in the steeple : Wherefore think when Tom is running Our manners wait upon thy cunning . Then let him raised be from ground The same in number , weight , and sound ; For may thy conscience rule thy gaine , Or would thy theft might be thy baine . On a Gentleman , that kissing his Mistresse left blood upon her . WHat mystery is this that I should find My blood in kissing you to stay behind ? T was not for want of colour that required My blood for paint : no die could be desired On that faire cheeck , where scarlet were a spot , And where the juice of Lillies but a blot : If at the presence of the murtherer The wound will bleed , and tell the cause is there , A touch will doe much more : even so my heart When secretly it felt your killing dart Shewed it in blood ; which yet doth more complain Because it cannot be so toucht again . This wounded heart to shew its love most true Sent forth a drop and wrote its mind on you ; Was ever paper halfe so white as this , Or wax so yielding to the printed kisse ? Or seal so strong ? no letter ere was writ That could the Authors mind so truly fit : For though my selfe to forraine countries fly My blood desires to keep you company ; Here I could spill it all , thus I can free My enemy from blood though slaine I be : But slaine I cannot be , nor meet with ill , Since but to you I have no blood to spill . On an aged Gentlewoman . NO spring nor summers beauty hath such grace As I have seen in one autumnall face . Young beauties force their loves , and that 's a rape , Your's doth but counsell , yet they cannot scape : If 't were a shame to love , here t were no shame , Affection takes here reverences name ▪ Were her first years the golden age ? that 's true ; But now she 's gold oft tried and ever new : That was her torrid and inflaming time , This is her tolerable tropick clime . Faire eyes , who askes more heat then comes from thence , He in a feaver wishes pestilence . Call not those wrinkles graves , if graves they were They were loves graves , for els they are no where ; Yet lies not love dead here , but here doth sit Vowed to this trench like to an Anchoret : And here till her ( which must be his ) death's He doth not dig a grave , but build a tomb : Here dwells he , though he sojourne every where doom In progresse , yet his standing house is here . She allwayes evening is , nor noon nor night , Where 's no voluptuousnsse , though a delight . Xerxes strange love , the broad-leav'd plantane tree , Was loved for age , none being so large as she Or else because being young , nature did blesse Her youth with ages glory barrennesse . If we love things long sought , age is a thing Which we are sixty years a compassing : If transitory things which soon decay , Age must be loveliest at the latest day . But name not winter-faces , whose skin 's slack , Lank like an unthrifts purse , or empty sack ; Whose eyes seek light within , for all here 's shade , Whose mouth 's a hole rather worn out then made , Whose severall tooth to a severall place is gone To vex their soules at the Resurrection : Name not these living deaths-heads unto me , For such not antient , but antiques be . I hate extreams ; yet I had rather stay With tombs then cradles to wear out the day : Since that loves naturall motion is ▪ may still My love descend and journey down the hill ; Not panting after growing beauties , so I shall ebb on with them that homewards go . On his Mistresse going to Sea . FArewell fair Saint , may not the Seas and wind Swel like the heart and eyes you leave behind , But calme and gentle ( like the looks they bear ) Smile on your face and whisper in your eare : Let no foule billow offer to arise That it may nearer look upon your eyes , Least wind and waves enamourd with such form Should throng and croud themselves into a storm ; But if it be your fate ( vast Seas ) to love , Of my becalmed heart learn how to move : Move then , but in a gentle lovers pace , No wrinkles nor no furrowes in your face ; And ye fierce winds see that you tell your tale In such a breath as may but fill her saile : So whilst you court her each his severall way You will her safely to her port convay ; And loose her in a noble way of woing , Whilst both contribute to your own undoing . A Copy of Verses spoke to King CHARLES by way of entertainment when he was pleas'd to grace S. John's Colledge with his visit . 1636. WEre they not Angells sang , did not mine eares Drink in a sacred Anthem from you sphears ? Was I not blest with Charles and Maries name , Names wherein dwells all Musick ? t is the same . Hark , I my self now but speak Charles and Mary , And 't is a Poem , nay 't is a library ▪ All haile to your dread Majesties , whose power Adds lustre to our feast , and to our bower : And what place fitter for so Royall guests Then this , where every book presents a feast . Here 's Virgils well-drest Venison , here 's the wine Made Horace sing so sweetly ; here you dine With the rich Cleopatra's warelike love ; Nay you may feast and frolick here with Jove . Next view that bower , which is as yet all green , But when you 'r there , the red and white are seen . A bower , which had ( t is true ) been beautified With catechising Arras on each side ; But we the Baptists sons did much desire To have it like the dwelling of our sire A grove or desart . See ( dread Leige ) you le guesse Even our whole Colledge in a wildernesse . Your eyes and eares being fed , tast of that feast , Which hath its pomp and glory from its guest . Vpon the new Quadrangle of St. Johns Colledge in Oxford , built by the most Reverend Father in God the Lord Archbishop of Canterbury . T Is done ; and now wheres he that cryed it down For the long tedious businesse of the Town ; Let him but see it thus , and hee l contend How we could such a Quadrat so soon end , Nay think 't was time little enough to frame The exact modell onely of the same . T is finish'd then ; and so , there 's not the eye Can blame it , that 's best skilld in Symmetry : You 'd think each stone were rais'd by Orpheus art , There 's such sweet harmony in every part . Thus they are one : yet if you please to pry But farther in the quaint variety Of the choise workmen , there will seem to be A disagreeing uniformity . Here Angels , stars , there vertues arts are seen , And in whom all these meet the King and Queen . Next view the smoothfaced columns , and each one Looks like a pile of well joynd Punice-stone : Nor wonder , for as smooth , as cleare they are As is your Mistresse glasse , or what shines there . So that you 'd think at first sight at a blush The massy sollid earth Diaphanous . But these are common , would you see that thing In which our King delights , which in our King ? Look up , and then with reverence cast your eye Upon our Maryes comely Majesty : T is she , and yet had you her self ere seen , swear but for the crown 't were not the Queen . Nor i st the workmans fault ; for what can be I would faine know like to a Deity ? Unlesse her Charles ; yet hath his statue proved So like himselfe you 'd think it spoke and mov'd , But that you plainely see t is brasse ; nay were The Guard but near , they 'd cry the King , be bare . Rare forme , and as rare matter ; that can give O●r Charles after his reigne ages to live . Not like your graver Citizens wise cost , Who think they have King enough on a sign-post : Where he may stand ( for all I see ) unknown , But for the loving superscription . No ; here he reigns in state , to every eye So like himselfe in compleat Majesty , That men shall cry , viewing his limbs and face All fresh three ages hence , long live his Grace . Blest be that subject then , which did foresee The Kings ( though he 's as God ) mortality : And through a Princely care hath found the way To reinthrone his dust and crown his clay ; That so what strange events soere may fall Through peace or war antimonarchical : Though these three Kingdoms should becom one flame And that consume us with our King and his name ; Yet here our gracious Charles whenever lent To his much honourd Marble , and there spent To a dust's atome , being then scarce a thing , May still reigne on , and long survive a King . Fortunes Legacy . BLind fortune if thou wants a guide ; I le shew thee how thou shalt divide , Distribute unto each his due : Justice is blind and so are you . Toth' Userer this doom impart , May Scriveners break and then his heart ; His debters all to beggery call , Or what 's as bad turne Courtiers all . Unto the tradesmen that sell dear A long Vacation all the year , Revenge us too for their deceits By sending wives light as their weights . But fortune how wilt recompence The Frenchmens daily insolence ? That they may know no greater paine May they returne to France againe . To lovers , that will not believe Their sweet mistakes , thy blindnesse give . And least the Players should grow poor Give them Aglaura's more and more . To Phisitians if thou please Give them another new disease . To Schollers give ( if thou canst doe 't ) A Benefice without a suit . To court Lords grant monopolies , And to their wives communities : So fortune thou shalt please them all , When Lords doe rise and Ladies fall . Give to the Lawers I beseech As much for silence as for speech . Give Ladies Ushers strength of back , And unto me a cup of Sack . Vpon a Gentlewomans entertainment of him . WHether , sweet Mistresse , I should most Commend your Musick or your cost : Your well spread table , or the choise Banquet of your hand and voyce , There 's none will doubt . For can there be Twixt earth and Heaven analogy ? Or shall a trencher or dish stand In competition with your hand ? Your hand , that turns men all to eare : Your hand , whose every joynts a sphear . For certainly he that shall see The swiftnesse of your harmony , Will streightwayes in amazement prove The spheares to you but slowly move ; And in that thought confesse that thus The Heavens are come down to us . As he may well ; when he shall hear Such Aires as may be sung even there ; Your sacred Anthems , strains that may Grace the eternall Quire to play : And certainly they were prepar'd By Angells onely to be heard Then happy I that was so blest To be yours and your Musicks quest ; For which I de change all other chear , Thinking the best though given to dear . For yours are delicates that fill , And filling leave us empty still : Sweetmeats that surfet to delight , Whose fullnesse is meere appetite . Then farewell all our heavenly fare , Those singing dainties of the aire ; For you to me doe seem as good As all the consorts of the wood ; And might I but enjoy my choice , My Quire should be your onely voyce . To a black Gentlewoman Mistresse A. H. GRieve not ( faire maid ) cause you are black ; so 's she That 's spouse to him who died upon the tree : And so is every thing . For to your thought , If you but wink , the worlds as dark as nought . Or doe but look abroad and you shall meet In every hallowed Church , in every street , The fairest still in this ; who think they lack Of their perfections if not all in black : Their gowns , their veiles are so , nay more their necks , Their very beauties are foild off with specks Of the dark colour . Whilst thus to her mate Each seems more faire . Now they but personate What you are really . Your fairest haire Shadows the Picture of your face more faire : Your two black sphears are like two Globes beset With Ebony , or ring'd about with Jet . O how I now desire ene to depart From all the rest , and study the Black art : But since that 's not alowed me , I will see How I may truely , fairest , study thee . To the Memory of BEN : JOHNSON . AS when the vestall hearth went out , no fire Lesse holy then the flame that did expire Could kindle it againe : so at thy fall Our wit great Ben , is too Apocriphall To celebrate the losse ; since t is too much To write thy Epitaph , and not be such . What thou wert , like the hard Oracles of old Without an extasie cannot be told . We must be ravisht first , thou must infuse Thy selfe into us both the theam and muse . Else , though we all conspir'd to make thy herse Our work , so that it had been but one great verse : Though the Priest had translated for that time The Liturgy , and buried thee in rime ; So that in meeter we had heard it said Poetique dust is to Poetique laid : And though that dust being Shakespears , thou mighst have Not his room but the Poet for thy grave ; So that as thou didst Prince of numbers dye And live , so now thou mighst in numbers lye ; T were fraile solemnity . Verses on thee And not like thine , would but kind libels be ; And we , not speaking thy whole worth , should raise Worse blots then they that envied thy praise ▪ Indeed thou needst not us , since above all Invention , thou wert thine own funerall . Hereafter when time hath fed on thy Tomb , The inscription worne out , and the marble dumb ; So that 't would pose a Crittick to restore Halfe words , and words expir'd so long before . When thy maim'd statue hath a sentencd face , And looks that are the horrour of the place ; That t will be learning and antiquity To ask a Selden to say this was thee ; Thou 'lt have a whole name still : nor needst thou fear That will be ruind , or loose nose or hair . Let others write so thin , that they can't be Authors till rotten , no posterity Can add to thy works , th' had their whole growth then When first borne , and came aged from the pen . Whilst living thou enjoyest the fame and sence , And all that time gives but the reverence . When tha'rt of Homers years , no man will say Thy Poems are lesse worthy , but more gray . T is bastard Poetry , and of the false blood Which can't withot succession be good . Things that will always last , doe thus agree With things Eternall , they at once perfect be . Scorne then their censure , who gave out thy wit As long about a Comedy did sit , As Elephants bring forth ; and that thy blots And mendings took moretime then Fortune plots : That such thy drought was , and so great thy thirst , That all thy Plays were drawn at the Mermaid first . That the Kings yearly Butt wrote , and his wine Had more right then thou to thy Cateline . Let such men keep a diet , let their wit Be rackt , and while they write , suffer a fit When they have felt tortures which outpaine the gouut , Such as with lesse the State draws Treason out ; Though they should the length of consumption lie , Sick of their Verse , and of their Poem die , T would not be thy worst Scene , but would at last Confirme their boastings , and shew 't made in hast . He that writes well , writes quick , since the rules true , Nothing is slowly done , that 's always new . So when thy Fox had ten times Acted been , Each day was first , but that t was cheaper seen . And so thy Alchymist Played ore and ore , Was new o th' stage , when t was not at the door . We , like the Actors , did repeat , the pit The first time saw , the next conceived thy wit : Which was cast in those forms , such rules , such arts , That but to some not halfe thy Acts were parts : Since of some silken judgements we may say They fild a box two houres , but saw no Play . So that the unlearned lost their mony , and Schollers saved onely , that could understand . Thy Scene was free from monsters , no hard plot Calld down a God t' untie the unlikely knot . The stage was still a stage , two entrances Were not two parts of the world disjoynd by Seas . Thine were land Tragedies , no Prince was found To swim a whole Scene out , then oth'stage drownd , Pitcht fields ▪ and Red-Bul wars , still felt thy doom , Thou laidst no sieges to the Musick Room ; Nor wouldst alow to thy best Comedies Humors that should above the people rise : Yet was thy language and thy stile so high Thy Sock to the ancle , Buskin reachd toth' thigh : And both so chast , so 'bove dramatick clean , That we both safely saw and lived thy Scene . No foul loose line did prostitute thy wit , Thou wrotst thy Comedies ; didst not commit . We did the vice arraignd not tempting hear , And were made judges not bad parts by the eare . For thou even sin didst in such words array , That some who came bad parts , went out good Play . Which ended not with th' Epilogue , the age Still Acted ▪ and grew innocent from the stage . T is true thou hadst some sharpnesse , but thy salt Serv'd but with pleasure to reforme the fault : Men were laught into vertue , and none more Hated Face acted then were such before . So did thy sting not blood but humors draw ; So much doth Satyre more correct then Law ; Which was not nature in thee , as some call Thy teeth , who say thy wit lay in thy gall . That thou dist quarrel first , and then in spight Didst 'gainst a person of such vices write : And t was revenge not truth , that on the stage Carlo was not presented , but thy rage : And that when thou in company wert met , Thy meat took notes , and thy discourse was net . We know thy free vaine had this innocence , To spare the party , and to brand the offence . And the just indignation thou wert in Did not expose Shift but his tricks and gin . Thou mighst have us'd th'old comick freedome , these Might have seen themselves played like Socrates . Like Cleon Mammon might the Knight have been ; If as Greek Authors thou hadst turn'd Greek spleen ; And hadst not chosen rather to translate Their learning into English , not their hate . Indeed this last , if thou hadst been bereft Of thy humanity , might be called theft . The other was not , whatsoere was strange Or borrowed in thee did grow thine by th' change . Who without Latine helps , hadst been as rare As Beaument , Fletcher , or as Shakespeare were : And like them from thy native stock couldst say Poets and Kings are not born every day . An Answer to the Letter of the Cloake . Mr. Roberts , I Wonder that you should send for the Cloak , I thought you scornd it should be spoke That once your promise should be broke , If from your word you doe revoke I have wit enough to keep the Cloak . You say you le make me smart for the Cloak , I doe not care a fart for the Cloak , Yet I will study the black art in the Cloak Rather then I will part with the Cloak . You say you mean to try for the Cloak , I scorne to tell a lye for the Cloak , My word I le never deny for the Cloak Although I thought cry for the Cloak . I doe protest most deep in the Cloak I did both mourne and weep in the Cloak , And if I should not keep the Cloak I were a very sheep in the Cloak . I took your Cloak to mourne in your Cloak , My corps I did adorne in your Cloak , And many a time have I sworn in your Cloak That I will never return in your Cloak . Your father we did bury in the Cloak , And after we were merry in the Cloak , And then I told Mr. Perry of the Cloak , And yet I am not weary of the Cloak . Yet still I stand in fear of the Cloak That I shall be never the near for the Cloak : I pray you , good Sir , forbear the Cloak I know that you can spare the Cloak . It cost me many a tear in your Cloak , And many a beaker of bear in your Cloak ; And yet I stand in fear of your Cloak That I shall be nere the near for your Cloak . Therefore , good Sir , forbear the Cloak , For though I have worn bare the Cloak , I had rather for to tear the Cloak Then see another wear the Cloak . Your friend in truth till death me choak If you will let me have the Cloak . Loves Courtship . HArk my Flora , Love doth call us To the strife that must befall us : He hath rob'd his mothers Myrtles , And hath puld her downy Turtles . See our geniall posts are crownd , And our beds like billowes rise : Softer lists are no where found , And the strife its selfe 's the prize . Let not shades and dark affright thee , Thy eyes have lustre that will light thee : Think not any can surprize us , Love himselfe doth now disguise us : From thy wast that girdle throw Night and silence both wait here , Words or actions who can know Where there 's neither eye nor eare . Shew thy bosome and then hide it , Licence touching and then chide it ; Profer something and forbear it , Give a grant and then forswear it : Ask where all my shame is gone , Call us wanton wicked men ; Doe as Turtles kisse and grone , Say thou nere shalt joy againe . I can hear thee curse , yet chase thee ; Drink thy tears and still embrace thee : Easie riches are no treasure , She that 's willing spoiles the pleasure : Love bids learn the wrestlers slight , Pull and struggle when we twine ; Let me use my force to night , The next conquest shall be thine . Vpon the death of the Lord Stafford , the last of his name . MUst then our loves be short still ? must we chuse Not to enjoy ? only admire & loose ? Must axiomes hence grow sadly understood , And we thus see t is dangerous to be good ? So books begun are broken off , and we Receive a fragment for an History ; And as 't were present wealth , what was but debt , Lose that of which we are not owners yet ; But as in books that want the closing line , We onely can conjecture , and repine ▪ So must we here too onely grieve , and guesse , And by our fancy make , what 's wanting , lesse . Thus when rich webs are left unfinished , The spider doth supply them with her thred . For tell me what addition can be wrought To him , whose youth was even the bound of thought . Whose buddings did deserve the robe , whiles we In smoothnesse did the deeds of wrinkles see : When his State-nonage might have been thought fit . To break the custome and allowed to sit . His actions veiled his age , and could not stay For that we call ripenesse , and just day . Others may wait the staffe and the gray haire , And call that wisdome which is onely fear . Christen a coldnesse temperance , and then boast Full and ripe vertue , when all actions lost : This is not to be noble , but be slack ; A Stafford ne're was good by the Almanack . He , who thus stayes the season , and expects , Doth not gaine habits , but disguise defects . Here nature outslips culture : he came tried , Straight of himselfe at first , not rectified : Manners so pleasing and so handsome cast , That still that overcame which was shewn last . All minds were captived thence , as if 't had been The same to him to have been loved and seen . Had he not been snatch'd thus , what drive hearts now Into his nets , would have driven Cities too : For these his essayes which began to win Were but bright sparks which shewed the mine within . Rude draughts unto the Picture ; things we may Stile the first beams of the increasing day ; Which did but onely great discoveries bring , As outward coolenesse shews the inward spring . Nor were his actions to content the sight , Like Artists pieces plac'd in a good light , That they might take at distance , and obtrude Something unto the eye that might delude : His deeds did all most perfect then appear When you observ'd , view'd close , and did stand near For could there ought else spring from him whose line From which he sprung was rule and discipline . Whose vertues were as books before him set , So that they did instruct , who did beget : Taught thence not to be powerfull , but know , Shewing he was their blood by living so . For whereas some are by their big-lip known , Others by imprinted burning swords were shown ; So they by great deeds are , from which bright fame Engraves free reputation on their name : These are their native marks , and it hath been The Staffords lot to have their signes within . And though this firme hereditatry good Might boasted be as flowing with the blood , Yet he ne're graspt this stay : but as those , who Carry perfumes about them still , scarce doe Themselves perceive them , though anothers sence Suck in the exhaling odour : so he thence Ne're did perceive he carried this good smell , But made new still by doing himselfe well . To imbalme him then is vaine , where spreading fame Supplies the want of spices ; where the name , It selfe preserving , may for ointment passe , And he still seen lie coffind as in glasse . Whiles thus his bud dims full flowers , and his sole Beginning doth reproach anothers whole . Coming so perfect up , that there must needs Have been found out new titles for new deeds . Though youth and lawes forbid , which will not let Statues be rais'd , or him stand brasen : yet Our minds retaines this royalty of Kings , Not to be bound to time , but judge of things And worship as they merit : there we doe Place him at height , and he stands golden too . A comfort , but not equall to the crosse , A faire remainder , but not like the losse . For he ( that last pledge ) being gone , we doe Not onely loose the heir but the honour too . Set we up then this boast against our wrong , He left no other signe that he was young : And spight of fate his living vertues will , Though he be dead , keep up the Barony still . Vpon the same . UNequall nature , that dost load , not pair Bodies with souls , to great for them to bear ! As some put extracts ( that for soules may passe , Still quickning where they are ) in frailer glasse ; Whose active generous spirits scorne to live By such weak means , and slight preservative : So high borne minds ; whose dawnings like the day In torrid climes cast forth a full-noon ray ; Whose vigorous brests inherit ( throngd in one ) A race of soules by long succession ; And rise in their descents ; in whom we see Entirely summ'd a new born ancestry : These soules of fire ( whose eager thoughts alone Create a feaver or consumption ) Orecharge their bodies : labring in the strife To serve so quick and more then mortall life . Where every contemplation doth oppresse Like fits of the Calenture , and kills no lesse . Goodnesse hath its extreams as well as sin , And brings , as vice , death and diseases in . This was thy fate , great Stafford ; thy fierce speed T' out-live thy years , to throng in every deed A masse of vertues ; hence thy minutes swell Not to a long life , but long Chronicle . Great name ( for that alone is left to be Calld great ; and t is no small nobility To leave a name ) when we deplore the fall Of thy brave Stem , and in thee of them all ; Who dost this glory to thy race dispence , Not known to honour , t' end with innocence ; Me thinks I see a spark from thy dead eye Cast beams on thy deceas'd Nobility . Witnesse those Marble heads , whom Westminster Adores ( perhaps without a nose or eare ) Are now twice raised from the dust , and seem New sculpt againe , when thou art plac'd by them ; When thou , the last of that brave house deceast , Hadst none to cry ( our brother ) but the Priest : And this true riddle is to ages sent Stafford is his Fore-fathers monument . A Song of the Precise Cut . WIth face and fashion to be known For one of sure election , With eyes all white and many a groan , With neck aside to draw in tone , With harp in 's nose or he is none . See a new teacher of the town , O the town , O the towns new teacher . With pate cut shorter then the brow , With little ruffe starcht you know how , With cloak like Paul , no cape I trow , With Surplesse none , but lately now ; With hands to thump , no knees to bow . See a new teacher , &c. With couzning cough and hallow cheek To get new gatherings every week , With paltry change of and to eke , With some small Hebrew , and no Greek , To find out words when stuff 's to seek . See a new teacher , &c. With shopboard breeding and intrusion , With some outlandish Institution , With Vrsines Catechisme to muse on , With Systems method for confusion , With grounds strong layed of meer illusion . See a new teacher ▪ &c. With rites indifferent all damned , And made unlawfull if commanded , Good works of Popery down banded , And morall Lawes from him estranged , Except the Sabbath still unchanged . See a new teacher , &c. With speech unthought , quick revelation , With boldnesse in predestination , With threats of absolute damnation , Yet yea and nay hath some salvation For his own Tribe , not every Nation . See a new teacher , &c. With after licence cost a Crown When Bishop new had put him down , With tricks calld repetition , And doctrine newly brought to town Of teaching men to hang and drown . See a new teacher , &c. With flesh-provision to keep lent , With shelves of sweetnesse often spent , Which new maid brought , old Lady sent , Though to be saved a poor present ; Yet Legacies assure the event . See a new teacher , &c. With troops expecting him at door That would hear Sermons and no more , With Noting-tools and sighs great store , With Bibles great to turne them ore While he wrests places by the score . See a new teacher , &c. With running text , the nam'd forsaken , With for and but both by sence shaken , Cheap doctrines forc'd , wild uses raken , Both sometimes one by mark mistaken , With any thing to any shapen . See a new teacher , &c. With new wrought caps against the Cannon For taking cold , though sure he have none , A Sermons end when he began one , A new houre long when his glasse had run one , New use , new points , new notes to stand on . See a new teacher , &c. Vpon the Lady Paulets Gift to the Vniversity of Oxford : Being an exact piece of Needle-work presenting the whole story of the Incarnation , Passion , Resurrection , and Ascension of our Saviour . COuld we judge here most vertuous Madam : then Your needle might receive praise from our pen . But this our want bereaves it of that part , Whilst to admire and thank is all our Art ▪ The work deserves a Shrine : I should rehearse Its glory in a story , not a verse . Colours are mix'd so subtily , that thereby The strength of art doth take and cheat the eye : At once a thousand we can gaze upon , But are deceiv'd by their transition . What toucheth is the same ; beam takes from beam The next still like , yet differing in the extream . Here runs this tract , thither we see that tends , But cannot say here this or there that ends ▪ Thus while they creep insensibly we doubt Whether the one pours not the other out . Faces so quick and lively , that we may Fear if we turn our backs they l steal away . Postures of griefe so true , that we may swear Your artfull fingers have wrought passion there . View we the manger , and the Babe , we thence Believe the very threads have innocence . Then on the Crosse , such love , such griefe we find As t were a transcript of our Saviours mind : Each parcell so expressive , each so fit , That the whole seems not so much wrought as writ . T is sacred text , all we may coat , and thence Extract what may be press'd in our defence . Blest Mother of the Church , be in the list Reckond with th' four a she Evangelist ; Nor can the stile be prophanation , when The needle may convert more then the pen . When faith may come by seeing ; and each leafe Rightly perus'd , prove Gospell to the deafe . Had not that Hellen haply found the crosse By this your work , you had repaired that losse . Tell me not of Penelope , we do See a web here more chast and sacred too . Where are ye now O women , ye that sow Temptations labouring to expresse the bow Of the blind Archer : ye that rarely set To please your loves a Venus in a net ? Turne your skill hither , then we shall no doubt See the Kings daughter glorious too without . Women sewed onely figleaves hitherto , Eves nakednesse is onely cloath'd by you . On the same . MAdam , your work 's all miracle , and you The first Evangelist , whose skillfull clue Hath made a road to Bethlem ; now we may Without a stars direction find the way To the cratch our Saviours cradle , there him see Mantled in hay , had not your piety Swath'd him in silk ; they that have skill may see ( For sure t is prickt ) the Virgins lullaby . The Oxe would faine be bellowing did he not fear That at his noyse the Babe would wake and hear . And as each passage of his birth 's at strife To excell , so even the death 's drawn to the life . See how the greedy souldiers tug to share His seamelesse coat , as if your work they 'd tear : Look on his read , that 's naturall , on his gown That 's a pure scarlet ; so acutes his crown , That he who thinks not they are thorns indeed , Would he were prick'd untill his fingers bleed . His Crosse a skilfull joyner cannot know , ( So neat t is fram'd ) where it be wood or no : So closely by the curious needle pointed , Had Joseph seen 't he knew not where were joynted . His side seems yet to bleed and leave a stain , As if the blood now trickled from the vein : Methinks I hear the Thiefe for mercy call , He might have stole't , 't was nere lock'd up at all . See how he faints ; the crimson silk turns pale Changing its graine . Could I but see the vaile Rent , all were finish'd , but that 's well forborn ; T were pitty such a work as this we●e torn . Turn but your eye aside and you may see His pensive handmaids take him from the tree , Embalming him with tears , none could expresse , Madam , but you death in so fit a dresse ; No hand but yours could teach the needles eye To drop true tears , unfeignedly to cry . Follow him to his virgin tomb , and view His corps inviron'd with a miscreate crue Of drowsie watch , who look as though they were Nere bid to watch and pray , but sleep and swear : The third day being come , and their Charge gone , Only some Relicks left upon the stone ; One quakes , another yawnes , a third in hast To run had not your needle made him fast : And to excuse themselves all they can say Is that they dream'd some one stole him away : You , Madam , by the Angels guidance have Found him againe since he rose from the grave . So zealous of his company , no force Could part you had not heaven made the divorse ; Where he remains till the last day , and then I wish with joy you there may meet again . On the same . Lady , YOu have drawn , and are all graces ; none so true As those lodge in your needle-work and you : Hither will throng we know these draughts to see Whole bevies of Court Maddams ; such as be Fair spectacles themselves , yet shall these glasses Ravish by shewing not theirs but your faces : Eyes that will shame the Christalls , and out steal The patterns quaintest lustre those conceal : Fingers of Ivory that will pointing stand As Indexes to shew where moved the hand , And in what method ; till a dawning light Spread on the Pictures from their neighbouring white ; Yet so they shall not weave new beauties in Those webs , your silk is whiter then their skin : T is said that some will chang their own for bought Locks , so they be not painted but thus wrought : And scanning well these tresses well died threads Curle into locks about the female heads , So neatly periwig'd , will choose to wear Rather what you so make then what grows hair . This Lady learns a smile from hence , she there A devout griefe takes forth from Maryes tear , So lively dropt ; as if i th' woman 't was Water , what 's silk i th' needle , pearl i th' glasse . A third will imitate your selfe , and try Each pieces counterfeit : which being set by As types unto your Gospel , all will guesse You are the Evangelist , she the Prophetesse . Here lies my Saviour ; and though he it is Lends life to all , yet borrows he from this : And doth to th' world by two Nativities come Both from your fancy and from Maryes womb ▪ For who observes the Art will move a strife Whether the threads be more of silk then life . All things are in such proper colours shown ; The naturall seem feigned , these their own : And all so well compos'd , their juncture such , It were some seperation but to touch : As in the varied bow which Heaven ▪ bends The red appears and yet the blew nere ends ; Here green , and yellow there , yet none can see Where green or yellow do begin to be , Each into others transient , and so fit Still , what you choose nothing would serve but it . What punctuall thorns here crown the Crucifix ; I thought your needle , but your silk more pricks . The sides wound had appeared by a cleft i th' wound ; had you but so much unwrought left And open ; as through which the spear once stole , Now you have fill'd it 't is a truer hole . Did you pin down the hands and feet t would fail Much of the truth , the stich is verier naile : Well drops the blood in shadow ; were there need Of true , but squeeze the Picture and 't would bleed : For life that onely floats in vainer breath Other arts give : that which returns from death : Yours fresh and fully ideates ; and is one That holds out to a Resurrection . Here t is that it to Christ joyntly procures A rising from both bottomes , hell and yours : His countenance refin'd seems not more new Issuing out from the grave then from your clew ; Allmost so much of the Diety is shown In your works as is visible in its own : In these materialls we may more God see Then heathens in a flower , or a true tree . But could we reach your fancy and find in 't The spirituality of every Print ; We darkly might conceive pure Godheads , one Nature , our Christ both of his flesh and bone . Blest Soule , who thus internally hast eyed Thy Saviour ; how hast thou been sanctified ? I dare to say so long as he stayed in Your minds , pure mirrour , that you scarce did sin : Had but one idle thought disturb'd the glasse , That same reflected blemish would forth passe Into the stained table , and no doubt The blur within had been a blot without . Look ore the Passion ; now you only view Old wonnds ; had you then sinn'd you had made new . But all is acurate : we cannot find One fault in the copy , cause not one i th' mind : And yet t is drawn in such briefe Imagry The smallest error cannot unseen lye . Each Picture 's couched in so little space , Had you but miss'd a thread y'had lost a face . Not as in gouty Arras , where a list Of any colour if left out 's not mist , And where the shuttle twenty times mishot Makes not so rude a sphalm , as here a knot Or stich let faln : t is easie to excell Wbere's such a latitude of doing well . But , Madam , you that in two Tables draw The Gospell whole , as God wrought all the Law , Are both compendious and true : the story Doth something loose in bulk , nothing in glory . The Magi are made lesse , but not lesse wise , Their gifts diminish , but their values rise : For since they are come hither , that 's thought best Which they do bring from you , not from the East . We cannot pen forth all your Art , much lesse Our Obligations and our thanks expresse : More will be said when we can better prize Your Present : mean while ( Lady ) let this suffice . With such delight we your Imbrodry view , No other object can please more but you ; Whose gift hath swoln us to such thankfull pride W' have now no matter for a wish beside The giver ; you alone outvy it , and Wee 'l wave the work onely to kisse your hand . Against BEN : JOHNSON . 1. COme leave that saucy way Of baiting those that pay Dear for the sight of thy declining wit : I know it is not fit That a sale-Poet ( just contempt once thrown ) Should cry up thus his own . I wonder by what dower , Or patent you had power From all to rape a judgement ? let it sussice Had you bin modest , y'had bin counted wise . 2. T is known you can doe well , And that you can excell As a translator ; but when things require A genius and a fire Not kindled heretofore by others pains , As oft you have wanted brains And art to strike the white , As you have leveld right : But if men vouch not things Apocriphall , You bellow , rave , and spatter round your gall . 3. Jugge , Peg , Pierce , Fly , and all Your jests so nominall , Are things so far below an able braine , As they doe throw a staine Through all the unlucky plot , and doe displease As deep as Pericles : Where yet there is not laid Before a chamber-maid Discourse so weak , as might have serv'd of old For Schoolboys when they of love or valor told . 4. Why rage then when the show Should judgement be ; and know That there are those in Plush that scorn to drudg For Stages , yet can judge Not onely Poets looser laws but wits , With all their perquisits : A gift as rich and high As noble Poesy , Which though in sport it be for Kings a play , T is next Mechanick when it works for pay . 6. Alcaeus Lute had none , Nor loose Anacreon , That taught so bold assuming of the baies When they deserv'd no praise . To raile men into approbation T is new ; t is yours alone ; And prospers not . For know Fame is as coy , as you ; Can be disdainfull ; and who dares to prove A rape on her shall gaine her scorne not love . 6. Leave then this humerous vaine , And this more humerous straine , Where selfe conceit and choler of the blood Eclips what else is good : Then if you please those raptures high to touch Whereof you boast so much , And but forbear the crown Till the world put it on : No doubt from all you may amazement draw , Since braver theam no Phoebus ever saw . Vpon a Gentlewoman who broke her vow . WHen first the Magick of thine eye Usurp'd upon my liberty , Triumphing in my hearts spoile , thou Didst lock up thine in such a vow : When I prove false may the bright day Be governd by the Moons pale ray : And I too well remember , this Thou saidst and sealdst it with a kisse . O heavens ! and could so soon that tie Relent in slack Apostasie ? Could all thy oaths and morgag'd trust Vanish like letters form●d in dust , Which the next wind scatters ? take heed , Take heed , Revolter , know this deed Hath wrongd the world ; which will fare worse By thy example then thy curse . Hide that false brow in mists thy shame ; Nere see light more , but the dim flame Of funerall lamps : thus sit and moane And learn to keep thy guilt at home ; Give it no vent . For if again Thy love or vowes betray more men ; At length I fear thy perjur'd breath Will blow out day and waken death . A Song upon a Winepot . ALl Poets Hippocrene admire , And pray to water to inspire Their wit and muse with heavenly fire . Had they this heavenly fountaine seen , Sack both their muse and wit had been , And this Pintepot their Hipocrene . Had they truly discovered it , They had like me , thought it unfit To pray to water for their wit : And had ador'd Sack as divine , And made a Poet God of Wine , And this Pintepot had bin the Shrine . Sack unto them had bin instead Of Nectar and the heavenly bread , And every a boy a Gannemed : But had they made a God of it , Or stiled it Patron of their wit , This Pintepot had bin a Temple fit . Well then companions i st not fit , Since to this gem we owe our wit , That we should praise the Cabinet ; And drink a health to this divine And bounteous palace of our Wine ? Die he with thirst that doth repine . To one married to an old man . SEeing thou wouldst ( bewitch'd by some ill Be buried in those monnmental arms ( charms ) All we can wish is may that earth be light Upon thy tender limbs , and so good night . A Song . I Mean to sing of Englands fate , ( God blesse in th' mean time the King and his ( Mate ) That 's rul'd by the Antipodian state , Which no body can deny . Had these seditious times been when We had the life of our wise Poet Ben , Apprentices had not been Parliament men , Which no body can deny . But Puritans bear all the sway ; And they 'l have no Bishops as most of them say , But God may have the better another day , Which no body can deny . Prin and Burton say women that are lewd and loose Shall wear Italian locks for their abuse , They 'l onely have private keys for their own use , Which no body can deny . Zealous Prin hath threatned a shrewd downfall To cut off long locks both bushy and small , But I hope he will not take eares and all , Which no body can deny . They 'l not alow of what pride in brings , No favours in hats nor any such things , They 'l convert all ribbands into Bible strings , Which no body can deny . God blesse the King , and Queen also , And all true Subjects from high to low , The Roundheads can pray for themselves we know , Which no body can deny . Vpon the Times . THe Parliament cries arme , the King says no ; The new Lievtenants cry on , le ts go ; The People all amaz'd , ask where 's the foe ? The bugbear Scots behind the door cry boh . Patience a while , and time will plainly shew The King stands still faster then they can goe . A double Chronogram ( the one in Latine the other in the English of that Latine ) upon the year 1642. TV DeVs IaM propItIVs sIs regI regnoqVe hVIC VnIVerso . OgoD noVV sheVV faVoVr to the kIng anD thIs VVhoLe LanD . On the Noble-mans Sons Cloak that refused to wear a Gown in Oxford . SAw you the Cloak at Church to day The long-worne short Cloak lined with Say ? What had the Man no Gown to wear , Or was this sent him from the Mayor ? Or i st the Cloak which Nixon brought To trim the Tub where Golledge taught ? Or can this best conceal his lips , And shew Communion sitting hips ? Or was the Cloak St. Pauls ? if so With it he found the Parchments too . Yes verily ; for he hath been With mine Host Gajus at the New-Inn . A Gown ( God blesse us ) trailes o th' floore Like th' petticoat of the Scarlet Whore ; Whose large stiffe pleats he dares confide Are ribs from Antichrists own side . A mourning Cope , if 't looks to the East , Is the black Surplisse of the Beast . Stay , read the Cards ; the Queens and Kings The best i th' Pack are Gouned things ; But shortcut Spade with t'other three Are dub'd i th Cloak of knavery . Beside his Lordship cloak'd did stand When his Watch went false by slight of hand : Then look for more such Cloaks as these From th' Court of Wards and Liveries . On Alma's voyce . WHat Magick art Compells my soule to fly away , And leave desert My poor composed trunck of clay ? Strange violence ! thus pleasingly to teare The soule forth of the body by the eare . When Alma sings , The pretty Chanters of the skie Doe droop their wings , As in disgrace they meant to die ; Because their tunes which were before so rare , Compar'd to hers , doe but distract the aire . Each sensitive In emulation proudly stands , Striving to thrive Under the blisse of her commands , Whose charming voyce doth Bears and Tigers tame , And teach the Sphears new melodies to frame ▪ The Angells all ( Astonisht at her heavenly aire ) Would sudden fall From cold amazement to dispaire ; But that by nimble theft they all conspire To steal her hence for to enrich their quire . FINIS . 
A52015	----	Wit restor'd in several select poems not formerly publish't. Mennes, John, Sir, 1599-1671. 1658 Approx. 246 KB of XML-encoded text transcribed from 126 1-bit group-IV TIFF page images. Text Creation Partnership, Ann Arbor, MI ; Oxford (UK) : 2003-09 (EEBO-TCP Phase 1). A52015 Wing M1719 ESTC R32937 12789343 ocm 12789343 93926 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. A52015) Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 93926) Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books, 1641-1700 ; 1036:21) Wit restor'd in several select poems not formerly publish't. Mennes, John, Sir, 1599-1671. [2], 138, [5], 140-189 [i.e. 201] p. Printed for R. Pollard, N. Brooks, and T. Dring, and are to be sold at the Old Exchange, and in Fleetstreet, London : 1658. In verse. Imperfect: pages stained with loss of print; pages 21-22 lacking. Reproduction of original in the Huntington Library. Created by converting TCP files to TEI P5 using tcp2tei.xsl, TEI @ Oxford. Re-processed by University of Nebraska-Lincoln and Northwestern, with changes to facilitate morpho-syntactic tagging. Gap elements of known extent have been transformed into placeholder characters or elements to simplify the filling in of gaps by user contributors. 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Copies of the texts have been issued variously as SGML (TCP schema; ASCII text with mnemonic sdata character entities); displayable XML (TCP schema; characters represented either as UTF-8 Unicode or text strings within braces); or lossless XML (TEI P5, characters represented either as UTF-8 Unicode or TEI g elements). Keying and markup guidelines are available at the Text Creation Partnership web site . eng Humorous poetry. Burlesques. 2003-05 TCP Assigned for keying and markup 2003-06 Apex CoVantage Keyed and coded from ProQuest page images 2003-07 John Latta Sampled and proofread 2003-07 John Latta Text and markup reviewed and edited 2003-08 pfs Batch review (QC) and XML conversion WIT RESTOR'D In severall Select POEMS Not formerly publish't . LONDON , Printed for R. Pollard , N. Brooks , and T. Dring , and are to be sold at the Old Exchange , and in Fleetstreet . 1658. WIT RESTOR'D . Mr. Smith , to Captain Mennis then commanding a Troop of Horse in the North , against the Scots . WHy what ( a good year ) means my Iohn ? So staunch a Muse as thine ner'e won The Grecian prize ; how did she earne ? The bayes she brought from Epsom Fearne ? There teem'd she freely as the hipps , The Hermit kist with trembling lipps . And can she be thus costive now While things are carried ( heaven knowes how ) While Church and State with fury parch , Or zeal as mad as hare in March ? While birds of Amsterdam do flutter And stick as close as bread and butter : As straw to Jett , or burre to squall , Or something else unto a wall . Can such a dreadfull tempest be , And yet not shake the North and thee ? Where is thy sense , of publike feares ? Wil 't sit unmov'd as Roman Peeres , Till some bold Gaule pluck thee by th'beard , Thou and thy Muse ( I think ) are sear'd , As I have heard Divines to tell The conscience is that 's mark't for hell . Ah Noble friend , this rough , harsh way May pinch where I intended play . But blame me not , the present times So serious are , that even my Rymes In the same hurry rapt , are so , Indeed whether I will or no. And otherwise my Numbers flie Than meant , in spight of Drollerie : T is good to end when words do nipp And thus out of their harnesse slipp . Besides , the thing which men mispend Call'd Time , as precious is as friend , Tak 't not unkindly , I professe None loves you better then I. S. From London where the snow hath bin As white as milke , and high as shin From Viscount Conwaies house in street Of woman Royall , where we meet : The day too cold for wine and Burrage The fourth precedent to Plum-porrage December moneth , and yeare of grace Sixteene hundred and forty to an Ace . To friend of mine , Captaine Iohn Mennis At town of York that now and then is , Or if you misse him there , go look In company of Hunkes Sir Fook ; They two perhaps may have a pull At Selbie , Beverley , or Hull , Or else you 'l finde him at his quarter , Send it , and let him Pay the Porter . The same , To the same . MY doubtie Squire of Kentissh crew that ha'st read stories old and new prick up thine eares unto a tale that will un-nerve and make thee stale : When thou shalt heare how manie pears , The parliament hath had by th' eares . Comming as close as shirt of Nessus , To privie Councellors ( god blesse us ) The Judges they are deep in bond , And fart for fear they shall bee Connd , The Ren of Elte , and the prelate Of Bath and Wells have had a pellat And they have plac't ( his grace's ) cod Under the lash of Maxwoll's rod , But I am told the Finch is warie And fled after the Secretarie , And all this is , that men may see Others can runne as well as wee . I hitherto have told , dear Captain , Of prisons that our peeres are clapt in : And all I wrote was like a groane Sadd as the melanchollie droane . Of Countrie baggpipe , now I sing Matter as chearfull as the spring , Of wine ( deare freind ) will make us wanton Better nere drunck by Iohn of Gaunt , one That at third glasse did mount his Launce And gott a boy whose sonne got Fraunce : Besides , the reckoning will bee more ( Humble I meane ) then heretofore ; For now the Alderman hight Abell Has given his parchment up with labell , To no more purpose is his pattent Then that the fool had shitt and sate in 't : Now may wee freely laugh , and drink , And overcharg'd goe pisse i' th sinck Then too 't again , beginne a health Of twelve goe-downes to th'Com-monwealth Then mount a stall , and sleep , and when Wee rise againe bee nere th' worse men : This fitt's my freindshipp , but not mee , I must bee sober as the Bee That often sippes , yet doth not stray But to his owne hive findes the way , Soe shalt thou not blush to acknowledge Him that was once of Lincolne-Colledge , But now of Bromely Hall neere Bow Look , and you 'l find his name below . I. Smith . From spatious lodgings of Lord mine In street of female majesty , past nine ; The day whereon wee whett our knives As men to eat even for their lives . He that ha's none t is time to borrow , For Christmas day is ee'ne to morrow . The same , to the same . MY note which cost thee pennies Sixe ( It seeme's ) still in thy stomack stick 's O had'st thou but beheld how willing I was for thine to pay a shilling ( For footeman forth the money layd Which must with int'rest bee defrayd ) Hereafter thou wouldst not bee nice For everie note to part with sice . Thy journey to the foe with Coyne Would madded have a saint or twayne , So sillie Bee with wearie thighes Home to her master's storehouse hie's ; Whence ( her rich fraught unladed ) shee Againe returne's an emptie Bee. I joy to heare thou raign'st in place Of the defunct Arch bishop's grace , For thou ( I doubt not ) wilt bee grea'st : By freind for prebendry i th' fist : Mee thinkes I fancie prester Iames In Cope envellop't without seames . With silke and golde embroydred ore , And brestplat like a belt before : As Pedler ha's to bear his pack , Or Creeple with a childe at 's back . Else when my Bettie dropp's away ( That fourteen yeares hath been my Toy ) Some one I l'e marrie that 's thy Neece And Livings have with Bellie-peece , This some call Symonie oth'smock , Or Codpeece , that 's against the Nock . The health you meant mee in the Quart I have , and partly thanke you for 't , But yet I muse ( as well I may ) At pot so funish't , without pay , For at that time wee were told here You all were sixe weeks in arreare ; Ha'st thou made merchandise , of Crop ? Or solde some landes , lef't out o th' mapp ? Or ha'st thou nimm'd from saddle bow A pistoll through thy troope , or so ? Leaveing halfe-naked horses Crest Like Amazon with but one brest ; Well , lett it goe : I thinke this geare Fitt to bee scann'd , but not too neare However , sure I should finde Iohn Thriftie , but yet an honest man , Yet tak heed in these pinching times And age so catching after crimes , It bee not given out how you quaf't Sugar , and eggs , in morning's draught ; I grudge thee not ; for if I met Vulpone's potion , or could get Nectar , or else dissolv'd to dew Th' Elixir , which the gods n'ere knew : 'T were thine , yea I would save the dropps For thee that fell besides thy chopps : But yet the needy state ( I feare ) May think much of thy costly cheare ; The best is , if they barre thy maw From sodden drink , thou 't have it raw : And reason good , the heavens defend , That thou should'st want , and I thy friend . I. S. From house of Viscount Conway , where Kenelme hath food , and Down's Count Lare , December moneth , day of St. Iohn That 'mongst th' Evangelists made one , Forty , ( besides the sixteen hundred ) We count yeares past since Fiend was foundred , And this Bissextile , that , sans pumps , Frisk's , and is call'd the yeare that Jum'ps . The same , to the same . I must call from between thy thighs ] Thy urine back into thine eyes , And make thee when my tale thou hear'st Channell thy cheekes with Launt rever'st ; Thy Landladie that made thee broth When drugge made orifice to froath , That every fortnight shifted sheet To keep thy nest , and bodie sweet ; That heard thee knock at peepe of day When boy snor'de that on pallat lay ; Rose in her smock , and gave thee counsell To lift thy foot for feare of groundsell , That often warnd thee of the quart And praid ( in vain ) to turn thy heart , This Landladie in grave is pent Now shedd thy moysture , man of Kent : Two rings shee left , for thee tone , to ' ther For Andrew that does call thee brother , This dries thy teares that were a brewing ; Now li'st to newes of State ensuing . Iudge Littleton is made Lord Keeper . And feeds on chick and pigeon peeper , The kings Attourney Sr Iohn Bancks Succeds him , but may spare his thankes . Herbert is thought the meetest man To fill the place of Bancks Sr Iohn , London-Recorder thence doth jogge , In Herberts roome to trudge , and fogg : And St Iohns one that 's sharp and wittie Is made winde-instrument o'th'Citty . Thus t is in towne ; but in the Camp There 's one preferrd will make thee stamp , For Sr Iohn Berkly's Sergeant Maior To Willmott , let it not bread Jarre , Nor can the Viscount whom Iohn putts In trust , prevent it for his gutts More shalt thou know when t is more fitt , When thou and I in Tavern fitt ; Till when , and ever , heaven thee send The wishes of thy constant freind , I. S. In street of Coleman from swanne Ally Where while I stay in towne , I shall lye In house of Mistresse Street , relict Of Robert , whom for mate shee pickt : And where , with eeles , and flounders fryde , And tongve of Neat that never lyed I filld my paunch , but when I belsh , It utter's language worse than welsh . Ianus the moneth that holdes us tack , One , with a face be hinde his back : Full sixteene hundred yeares wee score And fiftie , ( bateing six , and fowr ) And this leape-yeare wee count to bee , A yeare that come's but once in three . The same , to the same . THy wants wherewith thou long hast tug'd And been as sad as Bear that 's lug'd , Thou 'lt laugh at , when thou hear'st how odly Thy fellowes shift in Town ungodly . Commodities we took on trust , And promis'd Tradesmen payment just , To be return'd from Northern part , When treasure hence arriv'd in Cart. And , but till now of late , they crep From stair to stair , with trembling step ; So modest , that they blush'd to name , For what they to our Chambers came . Impatient now , both young and old , Assault my fort with knuckle bold . And as in bed perplex'd I lie , I hear one say , The Cart's gone by . With that they all attempt my dore , With pulse more daring then before ; And of their parcells make a ●…inne Louder , then when they drew me in . Rouz'd with this rudenesse , first , I chop Upon some foreman of the shop ; Take him by ' th' hand aside , and there I tell him wonders in his ear . So by degrees I send them jogging , Suppled with Ale , and language cogging . But newes of this makes Scrivener wary , And eight i' th hundred Don look awry That we do stoop to sums as small , As children venture at Cock-all . And lives we lead , ( I cry heaven mercy ) Worse then a Troop that has the Farfie , While man that keeps the Ordinary , Will not believe , nor Landlord tarry . O happy Captain , that may'st houze In Quarter free , and uncheckt brouze On teeming hedge , when purse is light , Or on the wholsom Sallat bite : While we have nought , when mony fails , To bite upon , but our own nails ; And they so short with often tewing , There 's not much left to hold us chewing ; Or if there were , 't would onely whet Stomack , for what it could not get , And make more keen the appetite , Like tyring-bitt for Faulkner's Kyte . To mend my commons , clad in jerkin , On Friday last I rode to Berkin , Where lowring heavens with welcom saucst us As when the Fiends were sent for Faustus ; Such claps of thunder , and such rain , That Poets will not stick to feign , The gods with too much Nectar sped , Their truckles drew , and piss'd a bed , And that they belsh'd from stomack musty Vapour , that made the weather gusty . Well , 't is a sad condition , where A man must fast , or feed in fear . I lately thee from North did call , Now stay , or else bring wherewithall , Unlesse thy credit here prove better , Than does thy friend's , that wrote this Lett●… I. S. Day tenth thrice told , the morning fair , The month still with a face to spare . The same , to the same . NO sooner I from supper rose , But Letter came , though not in prose , Which tells of fight , and Duell famous , Perform'd between a man and a mouse . An English Captain , and a Scot , The one disarm'd , the other not . It speaks moreover of some stirring , To make a Cov'nant new as Herring . Carr , and Mountrosse , and eke Argile : Well was that Nation term'd a Boyl , In breach of England , that doth stick , And vex the body Politick . But ( whatsoe're be the pretence ) Doubtlesse they strive about the pence ; While English Trooper , like a Gull , Serves but to hold the Cow to th'Bull . Pray tell me , Iohn , did it not nettle Thee , and thy Myrmidons of Mettle , To see the boy with country-lash , Drive on the jades that drew the cash ? And by thy needy quarters go , Asking the way to Camp of fo ? So Tantalus with hungry maw , And thirsty gullet , daily saw Water and fruit swim by his chaps , While he in vain at either snaps . Or else as Phoebus , when full fraught , And tipled with his mornings draught , Reels like a drunken Jackanapes , With bladder tight , o're soyl that gapes : And afterwards in corner odd , Perhaps lesse thirsty , empties codd . So fares it with my friends , ( god wot ) Whom treasure skips t' enrich the Scot. Leave then that wretched Climate , where Thy wants have rid thee like the Mare ; And haste to Town , where thou shalt find Thy friend , that now hath newly din'd . I. S. ●…ay twenty sixt , and when Iohn saies , ●…aces about , the Month obays . The same , to the same . WHy how now friend , why com'st no●… hither ? Hast thou not leave as light as feather ? Here have I mark't a Butt of Sack Whose maiden-head shall welcome Iack , ' Against which when drawer advanc'd gimlet I suffer'd him not , but did him let . And yet thou comm'st not ; Why dost pause And there continue , keeping Dawes ? Does Hostesse stay thy steed perforce , For that which was not fault of Horse ? Thou haste command of more then one , For I have seen at tail of Iohn , Full Palfreys sixty in array , ( I mean upon the Muster-day ) Or art thou entertain'd to give Physick to one , that else might live , Some aged Sir , whose wife is bent To change him for a Cock of Kent . Well , be it what it will , I 'le swear , There 's something in 't , that thou stay'st there Howe're , let businesse , wine , or friendship , Draw thee from out that Northern endship . If none of those provoke thy straddle , Take pitty on my riming noddle , That restlesse runs with numbers fierce , And 's troubled with a flux of verse . On that condition I 'le relate , Once more to Captain , newes of State : Judge Bartlet sitting on his stall , In Westminster , with 's back to the wall , Was there surpriz'd , and grip'd by th'wrist By Maxwell , with his clouter fist ; Who truss'd the Judge , and bore him hot , To the Sheriff's house , but plum'd him not ; For there he set him down i' th Hall , And left him to them , robes and all . As when a pack of eager Hounds , Hunting full cry along the grounds , Take o're some common moor , that 's fraught With old cast Jades , and good for nought : Who , conscious of their fates , do hale up Their thin short tails , and try to gallop , Get out o' th way for life and limme , Each fearing they are come for him . So far'd the Judges , such fears wrung'em , When Maxwell spent his mouth among ' em . Then come away , man , places stoop , Yet thou remainst in fortune's poop . If thou wert set to ride the Circuit , In Bartlet's room , how thou wouldst firk it . The art is , to forget acquaintance , And break a jest in giving Sentence , Which thou wilt learn , and then be quick With Sherif's , and thou hast the trick . These lessons con , and keep in store , From S that hath an I before . From Bromely , where I ghuess by th' Mill-Dike That t is the Moneth sirnamed Fill-Dike Which govern's now , and I beleeve The day is Tom of Straffords Eve , Full sixteen hundred yeares ( I hold ) And fifty ( bating five twice told ) Expired are since yeare of grace I' th Almanack first shew'd his face : Or ( which is nearer to our trade ) Twelve score and two , since Guns were made . The Gallants of the Times . Supposed to be made by Mr. William Murrey of His Majesties Bed-chamber . COme hither the maddest of all the Land , The Bear at the Bridge-foot this day must be baited Gallants flock thither on every hand Waggswantonly minded , & merry conceited Ther 's Wentworth , and Willmott , and Weston an●… Cav●… If these are not mad boys , who the devil●… would you have ▪ To drink to Will Murray , they all doe agre●… And every one crys , To mee , boys , to mee ! A great Burgandine for Will Murray's sake George Symonds , he vows the first course to take : When Stradling a Graecian dogg let fly , Who took the Bea●… by the nose immediatly ; To see them so forward Hugh Pollard did smile Who had an old Curr of Canary Oyl , And held up his head that George Goring might see , Who then cryed aloud , To mee , boys to mee ! T is pleasure to drink among these men For they have witt and valour good store , They all can handle a sword and a pen Can court a lady and tickle a whore , And in the middle of all their wine , Discourse of Plato , and Arretine . And when the health coms fall-down on their knees , And hee that wants , cry , to me boys to mee Cornwallais was set in an upper room With halfe a duzzen smal witts of his size ▪ He sent twice or thrice to have him come down , But they would admitt him in no manner wise Though , in a full bowle of Rhenishhe swear , Hee 'd never tell more , when woemen were there , But they all cry'd alou'd his tongue is too free He is not company for such as wee . The Answer , By Mr. Peter Apsley . THough Marray be , undoubtedlie , His countrey's cheifest wit ; And none but those converse with him Are held companions fitt : Yett I do know som Holland blades Shall vie witth him for it , hey downe , ho downe Hay downe downe derry dery downe ! Thinke not all praises due , For some that buff do weare Can whore and rore and sweare And drink and talke and fight as well as you . Your Wentworth and your Weston Your Stradling and your Tred , I know they are as joviall boys As ever Taverne bred And can somtimes like souldiers live A weeke without a bedd , hey doune &c. George Generall of Guenifrieds He is a joviall Lad ; Though his Heart and Fortunes disagree Oft times to make him sad : Yet give him but a flout or two And strait you 'l swear hee s mad : Hey downe , &c. There 's Sydenham Crofts and Kelligrew Must not be left behind And that old smooth-fac'd Epicure They call him Harry Wind For if you do discourse with him Such company you 'l finde : hey downe , &c. There 's little Geofrey Peeters , As good as any of those If hee 'd leave his preventing way Of abusing his great nose Hee s witt and Poett good enough That hee can pawne his cloathes : hey downe , &c. There is a joviall Parson Who to these men doth preach : On the week days he does learn of them , And on Sundays does them teach . Of books and of good company Hee takes his share of each , hey down ho down , Hey down down dery dery down ! Thinke not all prayses due For if he did not weare A gowne hee 'd roare and sweare And drink and talke and fight as well as you . The Bursse of Reformation . WE wil go no more to the old Exchang , There 's no good ware at all : Their bodkins and their thimbles too Went long since to Guild-hall . But we will to the new Exchange Where all things are in fashion And we will have it hence forth call'd The Burse of reformation . Come lads and lasses , what do you lack Here is weare of all prizes Here 's long & short ; here 's wide & straight ; Here are things of all sizes . Madam , you may fitt your selfe With all sorts of good pinns , Sirs , here is jett and here is hayre , Gold and cornelian rings , Here is an english conny furr , Rushia hath no such stuff , Which for to keep your fingers warme , Excells your sables muffe . come ladds , &c. Pray you Madam sitt , I le shew good ware For crowding nere fear that , Against a stall or on a stool You l nere hurt a crevatt . Heer 's childrens bawbles and mens too , To play with for delight . Heer 's round-heads when turn'd every way At length will stand upright . Come ladds , &c. Heer 's dice , and boxes if you please To play at in and inn , Heer 's hornes for brows , & browes for hornes , Which never will be seen . Heer is a sett of kettle pinns With bowle at them to rowle : And if you like such trundling sport Here is my ladyes hole . Come ladds , &c. Heer 's shaddow ribbon'd of all sorts , As various as your mind , And heer 's a Wind-mill like your selfe Will turne with every wind . And heer 's a church of the same stuff Cutt out in the new fashion , Hard by 's a priest stands twice a day Will serve your congregation . Come ladds , &c. Heer are som presbyterian things , Falne lately out of fashion , ●…ecause we hear that Prester Iohn Doth circumcize his nation . And heer are independant knacks , Rais'd with his spirits humor . And heer 's cheap ware was sequestred , For a malignant tumor . Come ladds , &c. Heer patches are of every cut , For pimples and for scarrs , Here 's all the wandring planett signes , And som o th' fixed starrs , Already gum'd to make them stick , They need no other sky , Nor starrs for Lilly for to vow To tell your fortunes by , Come ladds , &c. To eject Powder in your hayre , Here is a pritty puff ; Would for clis●…er case serve too , Were it fil'd with such stuffe . Madam , here are Pistachie nutts , Strengthening O●…ingo roots ; And heea's a preserv'd Apricock With the stones pendant too 't . Com Lads , &c. Here are Perriwiggs will fit all Hayres , False beards for adisguise ; I can help lasses which are bare In all parts , as their thighs . If you 'l engage well , here you may Take up sine Holland Smocks . We have all things that women want Except Italian Locks . Come Ladds , &c. Here are hot Boyes have backs like bulls , At first sight can leap lasles ; And bearded Ladds hold out like Goats : And here are some like Asses . Here are Gallants can out-do Your Usher or your Page ; You need not go to Ludgate more Till threescore yeares of age . Come Ladds , &c. Madam , here is a Politicus Was Pragmaticus of late , And here is an Elentichus That Fallacies doth prate : Here is the Intelligencer too , See how 'bout him they throng ▪ Whilst Melanchollicus alone Walks here to make this song . Com Ladds , &c. Then lett 's no more to the Old Exchange There 's no good ware at all , Their Bodkins , and their Thimbles too , Went long since to Guild-Hall . But we will to the New Exchange Where all things are in Fashion , And vve vvill have it henceforth call'd , The Burse of Reformation . Come Ladds , & Lasses , vvhat do you lack ? Here is vvare of all prizes ; Here 's long and short , here 's vvide and straight , here are things of all sizes . The Answer . WE will go no more to the new Exchange Their Credit 's like to fall , Their Money and their Loyalty Is gone to Goldsmith's Hall. But we will keep our Old Exchange , VVhere wealth is still in Fashion , Gold Chaines and Ruffes shalt beare the Bell , For all your Reformation . Look on our VValls and Pillars too You 'l find us much the sounder : Sir Thomas Gresham stands upright But Crook-back was your founder . There you have poynts and pinns and rings , With such like toyes as those , There Patches Gloves and Ribons gay , And O our money goes . But when a Fammily is sunck , And Titles are a fading , Some Merchant's daughter setts you up , Thus great ones lives by trading . Look , &c. Marke the Nobility throughout , Moderne and Antient too , You 'l see what power the Citty had And how much it could do . Not many houses you 'l observe Of honour true or seeming , But have received from the Burse Creation or redeeming . Look , &c. Our wonted meetings are at twelve , VVhich all the world approves , But you keep off till candle-time , To make your secret Loves . Then you come flocking in a maine Like birds of the same feather , Or beasts repayring to the Arke Uncleane and cleane together . Look , &c , Wee strike a bargaine on the Exchange , But make it good else where , And your procedings are alike Though not so good I fear . For your commodities are naught , How ever you may prize them , Then corners and darke holes are sought , The better to disguize them , Looke , &c. We walke ore cellars richly fill'd ; With spices of each kind , You have a Taverne underneath , And so you 'r undermin'd . If such a building long endure All sober men may wonder , When giddy and light heads prevaile , Both above ground and under . Look , &c. Wee have an Office , to ensure Our shipps and goods at sea : No tempest , rock , or pyrat , can Deprive us of that plea. But if your Ladies spring a leake Or boarded be and taken ; Who shall secure your Capitoll And save your heads from aking ! Look , &c. Then wee 'l go no more to the new Eexchange Their credit 's like to fall , Their money and their loyalty , Is gone to Gold-smiths hall . But wee will keep our old exchange , Where wealth is still in fashion , Gold chaines and ruffs shall bear the bell , For all your reformation . Look on our walls and pillars too , You 'l finde us much the sounder : Sir Thomas Gresham stands upright , But Crook-back was your founder . On S. W. S. and L. P. Shee that admires her servant's face , His stature , limbs , or haire , Does not conceive the moderne waies Of Ladies , wise and faire . Hee 's but short , Care not for 't , There be tall ones enough , Though his head Bee all redd , Let his coyne bee so too . What though his nose turne in and out With passage wide and large , Not much unlike a rainy spout , His humors to discharge , Though his back , Weare a pack T is a toy among friends , So by hook , Or by crook , We may compasse our ends . 'T is not your witt nor language charme , That takes a femall eare A paire of pendants worth a farme Are held more welcom there . You abuse Your poor muse , When you write us fine fancies ; For no love Can improve Without suppers or daunces . God dam-mee is a good conceit , If they who sweare present us ; For that 's your only taking baite Words nere can circumvent us . There belongs More then songs To a necklace or gown , When your plays And essays May be had for a crown . The Tytre-Tues , or A Mock - Songe to the tune of Chive-Chase . By Mr George Chambers . TWo madcaps were commited late , For treason , as some say ; It was the wisdom of the State , Admire it all you may . Brave Andrew Windsor was the prince George Chambers favorite . These two bred this unknowne offence I wo'd they had bine be — They call themselves the Tytere-tues And wore a blew Rib — bin , And when a drie , would not refuse , To drink — O fearefull sinn ! The Councell , which is thought most wise , Did sett so long upon 't , That they grew wearie , and did rise , And could make nothing on 't . But still , the common people cri'd , This must not be forgot ; Some had for smaller matters di'd They'd don — wee know not what : Hang'd , drawne , and quarter'd , must they be , So Law doth sett it downe , It 's punishment for papistrie That are of high renowne . My Lord of Canterburie's grace This treason brought ot light El's had it bin a pitious case But that his power and might Had queld their pride which swell'd to high ; For which the child ungot May with him live e'ne till hee die As silie sheepe that rott . Let Papist frowne what need wee care Hee lives above their reach : And will his silver Mitre weare Though now forgot to preach . If hee were but hehind mee now , And should this ballad heare ; Sure he 'd revenge with bended bow And I die like a Deere . A Northern Ballet . THere dwelt a man in faire Westmerland Ionne Armestrong men did him call , He had nither lands nor rents coming in , Yet he kept eight score men in his hall . He had Horse and Harness for them all , Goodly Steeds were all milke white , O the golden bands an about their necks ; And their weapons they were all alike . Newes then was brought unto the King , That there was sicke a won as hee , That lived syke a bold out-Law And robbed all the north country . The King he writt an a letter then A letter which was large and long , He signed it with his owne hand , And he promised to doe him no wrong ; When this letter came Ionne untill His heart it was as blyth as birds on the tree , Never was I sent for before any King My father , my Grandfather , nor none but mee . And if wee goe the King before , I wolud we went most orderly , Every man of you shall have his scarlet cloak Laced with silver laces three . Every won of you shall have his velvett coat Laced with sillver lace so white , O the golden bands an about your neck 's Black hatts , white feathers , all alyke . By the morrow morninge at ten of the clock Towards Edenburough gon was hee And with him all his eight score men , Good lord it was a goodly sight for to see , When Ionne came befower the King He fell downe on his knee , O pardon my Soveraine Leige , he said O pardon my eight score men and mee . Thou shalt have no pardon , thou traytor strong For thy eight score men not thee For to morrow morning by ten of the clock , Both thou and them shall hang on the gallow tree . But Ionne looke'd over his left shoulder Good Lord what a grevious look looked hee ; Saying asking grace of a graceles face , Why there is none for you nor me . But Ionne had a bright sword by his side , And it was made of the mettle so Free , That had not the king stept his foot aside He had smitten his head from his faire bodde . Saying , fight on my merry men all , And see that none of you be taine , For rather then men shall say we were hange'd Let them report how we were slaine . Then god wott faire Eddenburrough rose And so besett poore Ionne rounde That fowerscore and tenn of Ionnes best men Lay gasping all upon the ground . Then like a mad man Ionne laide about , And like a mad man then fought hee , Untill a falce Scot came Ionne behinde , And runn him through the faire boddee . Saying , Fight on my merry men all , And see that none of you be taine , For I will stand by and bleed but a while , And then will I come and fight againe . Newes then was brought to young Ionne Armestrong , As he stood by his nurses knee , Who vowed if er'e he live'd for to be a man , o th' the treacherous Scots reveng'd hee'dbe . By Mr. Richard Barnslay . FAme told mee , Lady , your fayr hands would make A willow garland for me ; O forsake That dismall office , it do's not agree With those sweet looks , that fair aspect in thee . Fayrest of women , canst thou bee my friend ? And with thine owne hand hasten on my end ? If I must loose thee , let mee loose thee so As not to bee my utter overthrow . Time lessons sorrow , we endure our crosses , And happier fortunes may redeem our losses , But if I wear one branch of that sad tree , I shall remember it eternally , What prize I lost ; and then in some sad grove Of discontent , where fearfull ghosts doe rove Of the forsaken lovers , there I 'le bee And only they shall keep mee company . Untill these eyes , in some unpollish'd cave Running like fountaines , weare mee forth a grave , And then I 'le dye , yet first I will curse thee Damned , unlucky , fruitlesse willow-tree Still mayest thou withered stand , mayst nev'r bee seen Clad in sweet summers pride , may'st nev'r grow greene ; May every bryer , and every bramble bee , Like a full Cedar , or huge Oake to thee : And when some cankerd axe shall hewe thee down , Come never neerer citty , house or towne , But bee thou burnd , yet never mayst thou bee A christmas block for joviall company . But bee thou placed neare some ugly ●…itch To burne some murderer , or damned witch . Cast away Willow , Lady , then , and th●…se , Dog-tree , or hemlock , or the mornfull yewes Torne from some church-yard side , the cursed thorne Or else the weed , which still before it 's borne Nine times the devill sees ; if you command I le weare them all , compos'd by your fayre hand So that you 'l grant mee , that I may goe free From the sad branches of the willowe tree . Ad Johannuelem Leporem , Lepidissimum , Carmen Heroicum . I Sing the furious battails of the Sphaeres Acted in eight and twenty fathom deep , And from that a time , reckon so many yeares You 'l find b Endimion fell fast asleep . And now assist me O ye c Musiques nine That tell the Orbs in order as they sight , And thou dread d Atlas with thine eyes so fine , Smile on me now that first begin to write . e Pompey that once was Tapster of New-Inne , And fought with f Caesar on th' g AEmathian plaines , First with his dreadfull g Myrmidons came in And let them blood in the Hepatick veines . But then an Antelope in Sable blew , Clad like the h Prince of Aurange in his Cloke , Studded with Satyres , on his Army drew , And presently i Pheanders Army broke . k Philip , for hardiness sirnamed Chub , In Beauty equall to fork-bearing l Bacchus , Made such a thrust at m Phaebe , with his Club , That made the n Parthians cry , she will be-cack us . VVhich heard , the Delphick Oracle drew nigh , To wipe faire Phaebe , if ought were amiss , But o Heliotrope , a little crafty spye , Cry'd clouts were needless , for she did but piss A subtle Gloworme lying in a hedge And heard the story of sweet cheek't p Appollo , Snarch'd from bright q Styropes his Antick sledge And to the butter'd Flownders cry'd out , r Holla . Holla you pamper'd Jades , quoth he , look here , And mounting straight upon a Lobsters thigh An English man inflam'd with s double Beere , Swore nev'r to t drink to Man , a Woman by . By this time grew the conflict to be u hot , Boots against boots 'gainst x Sandals , Sandals , fly . Many poor thirsty men went to the pot , Feathers lopt off , spurrs every where did lie . Caetera de●…iderantur . Bagnall's Ballet , supplied of what was left out in Musarum Deliciae . A Ballet , a ballet ! let every Poet , A ballett make with speed : And he that has wit , now let him shew it ; For never was greater need : And I that never made ballett before ; Will make one now , though I never make more . Oh Women , monstrous women , What do you meane to doe ! It is their pride and strange attire , Which binds me to this taske ; Which King , and Court , did much admire , At the last Christmas maske , But by your entertainment then , You should have smal cause to come there agen . Oh Women , &c. You cannot bee contented to go , As did the women of old ; But you are all for pride and show , As they were for weather and cold , O Women , women ! fie , fie , fie , I wonder you are not ashamed . O Women , &c. Where is the decency becom ; Which your fore-mothers had ? With Gowns of Cloth , and Capps of Thrum , They went full meanly cladd . But you must jett it in silkes and gold ; Your pride , though in winter , is never a cold . O Women , &c. Your faces trick'd and painted bee , Your breasts all open bare : So farr that a man may almost see Unto your Lady ware : And in the church , to tell you true , Men cannot serve God for looking on you , O Women , &c. And at the Devills shopps you buy , A dresse of powdered hayre , On which your feathers flaunt and fly , But I 'de wish you have a care , Lest Lucifer's selfe who is not prouder Do one day dresse up your haire with a powder . O Women , &c. And many thereare of those that go Attyr'd from head to heele , That them from men you cannot know Unlesse you do them feele , But oh for shame though they have none , T is better believe , and let them alone , O Women , &c. Both round and short they cut their hayre Whose length should women grace , Loose like themselves , their hatts they weare . And when they come in place , Where courtshipp and complements must bee , They do it like men with cappe and knee . O Women , &c. They at their sides against our laws , With little punyards go , Which surely is , ( I thinke ) because , They love mens weapons so ; Or else it is they 'le stobb all men , That do refuse to stabb them agen . O Women , &c , Doublets like to men they weare , As if they ment to flout us , Trust round with poynts and ribbons fayre , But I pray let ts look about us ; For since the doublett so well doth fitt 'um , They will have the breeches ; and if they can get ' um . O Women , &c. Nor do they care what a wise man saith , Or preachers in their defame . But jeer and hold him an asse ; but I faith They'd blush if they had any shame : For citty and countrey do both deride 'um And our King , God blesse him , cannot abide ' um . O Women , &c. And when the mask was at the court , Before the King to be showne , They got upon seats to see the sport , But soon they were pull'd down ; And many were thrust out of dores , Their coats well cudgel'd , & they cal'd whores . O King , Relligious King , Godsave thy Majestie . And so with prayers to God on high , To grant his highnesse peace , Wee hope we shall finde remedie To make this mischiefe cease : Since he in Court has tane so good order , The citty leave to the Maior and Recorder , O King , Relligious King , God blesse thy majestie . And women all whom this concerns , Though you offended bee ; And now in foule and rayling tearms Do swagger and scold at mee ; I tell you , if you mend not your waies The devil will fetch you all , one of these days , Oh Women monstrous Women ! What do you mean to do ? Mr. Smith , to Sir John Mennis , upon the surrender of Conway Castle by the Ar , BY. ANd how ? and how ? hast thou cry'd quittance With Mountaine , Bishop , and his Brittaines Who after all his changes , had Yet one trick more , to make John mad ? Hadst thou , for this , charge of the Keyes Old as the Castle ? and the payes Of Men unborne ? that never took A name , but from thy Muster-Book ? Hast thou been honour'd with the knee Of the Time-aged-Porter ? Hee Who after reverence , humbly sate Below the Salt , and munch'd his Sprat , And after all this to be vex't Past sufferance , by a Man o' th ' Text ! Well! now thou' rt come in sight of Pauls , Hast thou compounded for thy Coales And swallowed glib in hope to thrive , The Covenant , and Oath Negative With hand lift up , like those that are Indicted for less crimes at Barre ? Beleeve me , friend , it is a Burden Worse then a close-stoole with a Turd in . Yet if from Brittish rocks th' hast brought A heard of Goats , or Runts , or ought That Country yeilds ; Flannel , Carnoggins , Store of Me●…eglin in thy waggons ; Less needst thou dwindle to appeare Man At Goldsmiths-Hall before the Chaire-man : Or if th' ast plundered Pedlars-pack And truss'd it on thy knightly back , Rich in Box-whistles , combs in cases , Tape white and blue , points , inkle , laces , 'T may satisfye those hungry Kings ; They 'l hang ●…ee else in thine own strings . And now I call to mind the tale , How mounted in thy nights of ale Thou rod'st home duely to thy Den On back of resty Cittizen , Still pressing as the cattle grew Weary , at every stage , a new : Some thorough-pac'd , and sure of foot Some tripping , with string-halt to boot , Now 't is their time , and thou art ore - Ridden by them , thou roadst before . So have I seen the flyes in Summer , Yellow as was the neighbouring scummer , With shambling thighs , each other back By turns , and traverse o're the rack . Ah! worthy friend , it makes me mad To count the dayes , that we have had ; When we might freely meet and drink And each man speak what he did think . Now every step we doubt , and word As men to passe some unknown for'd . As Patridges devide their way When stoop'd at by the Birds of prey , And dare not from their coverts peep Till night's come on , and all 's asleep , Then from their severall brakes they hast , And call together to repast . So frighted by these buzzards , flye Our scattered friends , and sculking lye Till cover'd in the night , they chant And call each other to the hant , Some trusty Taverne , where in bowles They drown their feares , & chirp pooresouls , What sad plight are we in ? what pickles ? That we must drink in conventicles ? Search all the Centuries , there 's none Like this fell Persecution ; But when Time sorts , do but but command , At noon I 'le meet thee , here 's my hand . I. S. Dated , From house of Knight , in Nympton-Regis , Where one drinks , and another pledges , I meane at meales , the day is Jack , The 15 of the month that 's black , Forty eight yeares , and sixteen hundred Since that of Grace , away are squandred , And since Parliament begon ( I hope you 'l not forget that Iohn ) Nothing remaines , but that I say , Good morrow ; that 's the time o' th day . An answer to a Letter from Sr. John Mennis , wherein he ●…eeres him for falling so quickly to the use of the Directory . FRiend , thou dost lash me with a story , A long one too , of Directory ; When thou alone deserves the Birch That broughtst the bondage on the Church . Didst thou not treat for Bristow Citty And yeld it up ? the more 's the pitty . And saw'st thou not , how right or wrong The common prayer-book went along ? Didst thou not scourse , as if inchanted , For Articles Sir Thomas granted , And barter , as an Author saith , The Articles o' th' Christian faith ? And now the Directory jos●…les Christ out o' th' Church , and his Apostles ; And tears down the commnion-rayles That Men may take it on their tayles . Imagine freind , Bochus the King , Engraven on Sylla's Signet ring , Delivering up into his hands Fugurth , and with him all his Lands , Whom Sylla tooke and sent to Rome There to abide the Senate's doome , In the same posture , I suppose , Iohn standing in 's doublet and hose , Delivering up , amidst the throng , The common-prayer and wisedom's song To hands of Fairfax to be sent A sacrifice to the Parliament : Thou litle thoughtst what geare began Wrap't in that Treaty , Bus●… Iohn , There lurk'd the fire , that turn'd to cinder The Church ; her ornaments to tinder . There bound up in that Treaty lyes The fate of all our Christmas pyes , Our holy-dayes there went to wrack Our Wakes were layd upon their back ; Our Gossips spoones away were lurch'd Our feasts and fees for woemen church'd , All this and more ascribe we might To thee at Bristow , wretched knight , Yet thou upbraidst , and raylst in rime On me , for that , which was thy crime , So froward Children in the Sun , Amid ' their sports some shrewd turne donne The faulty youth begins to prate , And layes it on his harmlesse mate , Dated From Nympton where the Cyder smiles And Iames has horse as lame as Gyles The fourth of May ; and dost thou heare , 'T is as I take it , the eighth yeare Since Portugall by Duke Braganza Was cut from Spaine without a hand-saw . I. S. Mr. Smith's taking a Purge . IN morne when Phoebus peep 't through crevis , Bold as our Brittish Guy or Bevis I powder took , and by his beams Befreinded , made a draught for Ieames . Long had it not in stomack been But from each part , came powd●…ing in Of uncouth gear such pregnant store That gutt 'gan grumble , nock runne ore . Have yee beheld with eager haste The trewant Citts when scene is past , ( As if they meant their ribs to burst While each beares up to get our first ) Cloy up the doore , till passage small Into one body rammes 'em all , And then in steed of men and witt Delivers up a lumpe of citt . With no lesse furie in a throng Away these tachie humors flung , And downwards in a rage they drew To ramble , and bid nock adieu : But when they came to portall nastie Bumme was so straite , and they so hastie , That many a worthy pellett must Into one Booming shott bee thrust , At rumbling noyse the mastive growl●…s The f●…ighted mice forsake their holes , And Souldiers to my window come Invited thither by my drum , Tire'd with this hideous coyle behinde Nocke layd a b●…ut him hard for winde , Hee chaf'd , and fom'd , as buck embo'st , And painted like a ●…oad that 's tost . At length he gaind a litle tyme , And cleard his Organ from the slime ; Palewas his look , ( for to be blunt ) , Arse could not sett a good face on 't . But yet hee strove with visage wan To vent himselfe ; and thus began . Oh dismall Dose ! oh cursed geere ! Will all thy body runne out here ? Will vaynes , and sinnews , flesh , and bone Be gadding , and leave nock alone ? Is it decreed , oh crewell fates ! So Mindus at her citty gates As was suspected there about Some time or other might runne out , A Divell sure bak●…t , and stale Was grated in my posset-ale , Or else 't was powder of the bones Of some foote souldier dead for the nonce , For all the way he travailes North Through stomack , belly , and so forth . Some what he seizes in each towne , And take's it with him as his owne ; Well , what so ere thou wer 't , be sure Thy vengeance ' I le no more indure , Nor shall the head or stomack put More then is fitting into gutt . Why could not nostrells , eyes , or eare , By milde expences vent you there ? Or vomitt , by a neerer way , Discharge what in the stomak lay ? Or i' st not justice they that pas'd The pleasure , should the bitter taste ? Can you accuse mee ? ever came Ought in by me did body blame ? Unlesse your keeping ope my doore Drew wind , to make the fabrick roare ; I was contented once a day While you were temperate , to obay , But he is cur'st that 's forc't to stand All the day long with hose in hand . Nor was the spincter muscle put At every turne to ope and shut , But there to stand , and notice take Who pass'd , and when , and for whose sake . Therefore bee warn'd keepe better dyet That all of us may live at quiett . Or I le sto●…p up the abuse'd course And send up fumes will make you worse And you ( as Mayerne doth ) they say Divert the vent another way , Then spight of physick , in a word , I 'le make your pal●…e tast a tourd , And when you belch I 'le turne the sent To perfect smell of fundament . The Miller and the King's Daughter , By Mr. Smith . There were two Sisters they went a playing , With a hie downe , downe , a downe-a - To see their fathers ships come sayling in With a hy downe , downe , a downe-o - And when they came unto the sea-bry●… , With , &c , The elder did push the younger in ; With , &c. O Sister , O Sister , take me by the gow●…e , With , &c , And drawe me up upon the dry ground . With , &c. O Sister , O Sister , that may not bee , With , &c. Till salt and oatmeale grow both of a tree ; With , &c. Somtymes she sanke , Somtymes she swam , With , &c. Untill she came unto the mil-dam ; With , &c. The miller runne hastily downe the cliffe , With &c , And up he be took her withou●…en her lif●… , With , &c. What did he doe with her brest bone ? With , &c. He made him a viall to play thereupon , With , &c. What did he doe with her fingers so small ? With , &c. He made him peggs to his Violl withall ; With , &c. What did he doe with her nose-ridge ? With , &c. Unto his Violl he made him a bridge , With , &c. What did he do with her Veynes so blewe ? with , &c. He made him strings to his Viole thereto ; with , &c. What did he doe with her eyes so bright ? with , &c. Upon his Violl he playd at first sight ; with , &c. What did he doe with her tongue soe rough ? with , &c. Unto the violl it spake enough ; with , &c. What did he doe with her two shinnes ? with , &c. Unto the violl they danc't Moll Syms ; with , &c. Then bespake the treble string , with , &c. O yonder is my father the King ; with , &c. Then bespake the second string , with &c. O yonder sitts my mother the Queen : with , &c. And then bespake the stringes all three ; with , &c. O yonder is my sister that drowned mee . with , &c. Now pay the miller for his payne , with , &c. And let him bee gone in the divels name . with , &c. Mr. Smith , to Tom Pollard , and Mr. Mering . MY hearty commendations first remembred To Tom , & Robbin tall men , and well timberd Hoping of both your welfares , and your blisse Such as my selfe enjoy'd when I wrote this ; These are to let you understand and know , That love will creepe there where it cannot go And that each morning I doe drink your healths After our Generalls , & the Commonwealths ; For nothing is more fatall then disorder Especially now Lesly's on the Border ; That done we gather into Rankes and files , That a farre off we look like greeat wood piles ; And then we practise over all our knacks With as much ease as men make Almanacks , Size all our bulletts to a dram , we hate To kill a foe with waste unto the State , And for our carriage heere , it hath been such Declar 't I cannot , but I le give a touch : Here is noe outrage done , not one that Robbs Perhaps you think it strange Tom , so does Nobbs But t is as true as steele , for on my word ; Their worst is drinking Ale , browne as their sword . But harke the fiendes are come close to Carlile , Lidsdale is cope't with Rebell-Scotts the while To u●… they send for helpe , the postboy skudds ; And scoures his pallfrie in his propper Sudds , More I could write deare friends , but bad's the weather And time 's as precious as you both to gether . But take not this unkindely ; I professe There 's no man more your servant then I S. New castle where the drouth has been That makes grasse short , and gelding thin : Iuly the fifth I wrote this letter One thousand six hunderd , & somewhat better Upon Iohn Felton's hanging in Chaines at Ports-mouth , for killing the Duke of Buckingham . HEre uninterd suspends ( though not to save Surviving friends the expences of a grave Fel●…on's dead earth , which to the world must bee His own sad monument , his Elegye As large as fame , but whither bad o●… good I say not , by himself 't was writ in blood For with his body thus entomb'd in ayre Arch't o're with Heaven , set with thousand faire And glorious Diamond-starrs ; a Sepulcher Which time can never ruinate , and where Th' impartiall worme ( which is not brib'd to spare Princes when wrapt in Marble ) cannot share His flesh ( which oft the charitable skyes Embalme with teares doing those obsequies Belong to men ) shall last till pittying foul Contend to reach his body to his Soule . To Felton in the Tower. ENjoy thy bondage ; make thy prison know , Thou hast a liberty thou canst not owe To such base punishment ; keep 't intire , since Nothing but guilt shackles they conscience . I dare not tempt thy valiant blood to whey ●…n feebling it with pitty , nor dare pray Thine act may mercy finde , lest thy great story 〈◊〉 something of its miracle and glory . I wish thy merit studied cruelty , Short vengance befreinds thy memory For I would have posterity to heare He that can bravely die can bravely beare . Torture seemes great unto a cowards eye 'T is no great thing to suffer , less t●… dye . Should all the clowds fall out , & in that strife Lightning and thunder send ●…o take my life , I should applaud the wisedome of my fate That knew to value me at such a rate As at my fall to trouble ●…ll the skie , Emptying it self upon me Joves full Armoty ; Thy soul before was straightned , thank thy doome To show her vertue she hath larger Roome , Yet sure if every artery were broke Thou wouldst finde strength for such another stroke . And now I leave thee unto death and fame Which lives to shake ambition at thy name , And ( if it were no sin ) the Court by it Should hourely sweare before a favorite . Farwell , for thy beame sake we shall not send Henceforth Commanders that wil foes defend Nor will it ever our just Monarch please To keep an Admirall to loose the Seas . Farwell , undaunted stand , and joy to be Of publique sorrow the Epitome , Let the Duke's name suffer , and crowne thy thrall All we in him did suffer ; thou for all . And I dare boldly write , as thou darst dye , Stout Felton , Englands ransome , here doth lye . To the Duke of Buckingham . THe King loves you , you him ; both love the same , You love the King , he you , both Buck-in-game Of sport the King loves game , of game the Buck Of all men you , why you ? Why see your luck . To the Same . SOme say , the Duke was vertuous , gratious , good , And Felton basely did , to spill his bloud . If it be so , what did he then amiss , In sending him the sooner to his bliss ? All deaths seem pleasant to a good-man's Eye And bad men onely are afraid to dye ; Chang'd he this Kingdome to possess a better , Then is the Duke become Iohn Felton's debter . The Lawyer . LAwyers themselves up hold the Common weale , They punish such as do offend and steale ; They free with subtill art the innocent , From any danger , losse , or punishment , They can , but will not , keep the world in awe By mis-expounded and distorted lawe ; Alwayes they have great store of charity , And love they want , not keeping amitye . The Clients Transcription of the same Copy , having experienced the contrary . LAwyers themselves uphold the Common-weale They punish such as do offend and steale . They free with subtill art the innocent , From any danger , losse , or punishment ; They can , but will not keep , the world in awe By mis-expounded and distorted lawe Allwayes they have , great store of charity And love they want , not keeping amitye . The reverend Canvase . SO lowd a lye on Sunday rung , So thicke a troupe , so grave a thrung , Assembled in a Church , to laugh , At nothing ? pardon heavens ; when halfe Had Gods marke on them ? none so good To satisfie the hungry croud ; With holsome doctrine ; none so hardy With an howers talke to quitt the tardy ? All silent brethren , and yet none Can speake by inspiration ? Dares none so conscious of his merit , Or presuming on the sperit , With an edifying greeting Gratulate this zealous meeting ? Is this a day or place ( O sin ! ) For such to have a canvse in ? Lord ! how we sat like Queene Candace's Eunuch , reading each other faces ! Expecting when some Philips heire Would come to ascend the sacred chaire . Whilst cousning Miles the bell still knockt T' increase the number of the mockt ? But in conclusion all the cittie Was bidden to a nunc dimitte , And yet found no man to supply The office of dumbe Zacharie In our dismission , till wee tiring The bell and pullpit both conspiring , Deprived of sound , and vesture told us The tenor onely preacht that calld us ; A non sequitur , by Dr. Corbett . MArke how the Lanterns clowd mine eyes See where a moone drake ginnes to rise Sat●…rne craules much like an Ir●…n Catt , To see the naked moone in a slippshott hatt , Thunder thumping toad stooles crock the pots To see the Meremaids tumble Leather catt-a-mountaines shake their heeles To heare the gosh-hawke grumble The rustie threed , Begins to bleed , And cobwebs elbows itches The putrid skyes Eat mulsacke pies Backed up in logicke brecehes Munday trenchers make good hay The Lobster weares no dagger Meale-Mouth'd shee-peacockes powle the starres And make the lowbell ●…agger Blew Crocodiles foame in the toe Blind meal-bagges do follow the doe A ribb of apple braine spice Will follow the Lancasheire dice Harke how the chime of Plu●…oes pispot cracks , To see the rainbowes wheele g●…nne , made of flax . On Oxford Schollers going to Woodstock to heare Dr. Corbet preach before the King. THe King , and the Court Desirous of sport , At woodstock six dayes did lye Thither came the Doctors With their velvet sleev'd Proctors , And the rest of the learned frie. Some faces did shine More withale then with wine ; So that each man there was thought And judged by theire hue ( As it was then true ) . They were better fed then taught . A number beside With their wenches did ride ( For Schollers you know are kind ) And riding before Leand back evermore To kisse their wenches behind . A number on foot Without cloak , or boot And yet to the Court they wou'd Which was for to show How farr they wou'd go To doe his Majesty good , The reverend Deane With his ruff , starched clean Did preach before the King A Ring there was spide In his band-string tyde Was not this a pritty thing ? The Ring without doubt Was the thing put him out : So oft hee forgot what was next That all that were there Did thinke , and dare sweare , Hee handled it more then his Text. Horat. 34. Carm. od 10. ad . Ligurium . T Is true ( proud boy ) thy beauty may presume Thank Venus for 't but when thy cheekes shall plume , When manly downe shall shade thy Childish pride And when thy locks ( which dangle on each side Of thy white shoulders ) shall no more remain ; When thy vermilion cheeks ( which do disdain , The glorious colour of the purple rose ) Begin to fade , and Ligarinas loose His lovely face , being rudely stuck with haires Hard hearted boy ) then wilt thou say with teares ( When looking for thy faire self in a glass Thou findest another there ) Ah me ! alas ! What do I now perceive ? why had not I ? These thoughts when I was lovely smooth ? or why ? To these my thoughts which I now entertaine Doe not my Cheeks grow flik & young again ? To his Mistris . I 'le tell you whence the rose did first grow red And whence the lillie whitenesse borrowed You blush't and then the rose with red was dight . The lillie kist your hands and so came white Before that time the rose was but a staine The lillie nought but palenesse did containe You have the native colour ; these they die And onely flourish in your livery . Upon a Cobler . COme hither , read ( my gentle freind ) And here behold a Coblers End , Long in length his life had gone But that he had no Last so long . O mighty death whose darts can kill . The man that made him soules at will. On the death of the Lord Treasurer . IMmodest death , that would not once confer Dispose or part with our Lord Treasurer ! Had he beene thee , or of thy fatall tribe , He would have spar'd thy life , and tane a bribe , He that so often had with gold and wit , Perverted law and allmost conjur'd it . He that could lengthen causes , and was able To starve a suitor at the councill-table At last not having Evidence to show Was faine ( perforce ) to take a deadly blow . The lover's Melancholy . HEnce , hence , all you vaine delights As short as are the nights Wherin you spend your folly ! Ther 's nought in this life sweet , If men were wise to ●…ee't But only melancholly . Wellcome folded armes , and fixed eyes , A fight that pea●…cing mortifies , A look that 's fastened to the ground , A tongue chain'd up without a sound , Fountaines-heades and pathless groves Places which pale passion loves . Moone-light walkes when all the fowles Are warmely hous'd , save Bats and owls ; A midnight knell , a parting groane , These are the sounds wee feed upon ; Then stretch our bones in a still gloomy valley Ther 's nothing truly sweet , but melancholly ; The answer , by Dr. Stroad . REturne my joyes and hither bring A tounge not made to speake , but sing ; A joll ye splene , an inward feast , A causelesse laugh without a jest ; A face which gladnesse doth annoint , An arme for joy flung out of joynt ; A spritefull gate that leaves no print , And make a ●…eather of a flint : A heart that 's lighter then the ayre An eye still dancing in its sphere . Strong which mirth nothing shall controul A body nimbler then a soul : Free wandring thoughts not tied to muse Which thinking all things , nothing chuse ; Which ere wee see them come , are gone , These , life it selfe doth feed upon . Then take no care but only to be jolly , To be more wretched then we must , is folly . A Blush . STay hasty blood ! where canst thou seek So blest a place as in her cheek ? How can'st thou from the place retire VVhere beauty doth command desire ? But if thou canst not stay , then show ; Downe to her painting papps below Flow like a deluge from her breast VVhere Venus Swannes have built their nest , And so take glory to disteine The azure of each swelling vaine ; Thence run thou boyling through each part Till thou hast warm'd her frozen heart ; But if from love she would retire Then martyr her with gentle fire And having search't each secret place Fly back againe into her face ; VVhere blessed live in changing those VVhite lillyes to a Ruddy rose : To his Mistris . Last when I saw thee , thou didst sweetly play The gentle theife , and stolst my heart away , Render't again or else give me thine owne In change , for two for thee ( when I have none ) Too many are , else I must say , Thou art A sweet facd creature with a double heart . On Christ-church windowe , and Magd●…len Colledge wall . YEe men of Galilee why gaze yee so On Mandlins necessary print , as though T 'had bin enough for that pure virgin's sonne That was incarnate , dyed , & rose , to have done Those heavenly acts , that ransom'd al from hell And yet no visible effigies tell The eye , the manner how . Ye misconceive VVho think these sacred mysteryes must leave Impression onely in the soul ; how then Shall those that bear more shape than mind of men , ( Unlesse their outward sense informe them ) know VVhat accidents their Saviour long ago Sustain'd ? each wise man sees 't is not the fate Of every ideot to be literate . And who can then forbid ( ye Lay ) to look And read those things without or line or book . Besides ( if modestye may judge ) what i st But a supply to each Evangelist ? Long may the learned study , peace and scratch Before the forme of th' mainger , or the cratch Wherein Babe Christ was layd be understood . Each bungling joyner now may ken what wood The stall was made of where the long eared steed And his associate Oxe did stand and feed . Each practis'd oastler knowes their meat , can say There is their provender , this is their hay . Yee now may learne the naked shepherds hew The stripling boy , and him it 'h cap of blew , As perfectly as it had seene the clownes Each day a sunning on the jewish downes ; 'T is strange the dogg's not there , perhapps the Curr VVas left behind , for feare of noise or stirre : But veiw the venerable face whereon The horne and candle cast reflection , Observe it well if ere you chance to meet In paradise , you 'le know 't as soon as see 't , T is reverent Iosephs portraiture , see how ▪ The very image seemes to cringe and bow , Marke well his beard , his eyes , his nose , if ought Be mist , t is yours , and not the painters fault . Then lead your eyes unto the beauteous one Who nere knew man , yet mother to a sonne . Doth not her face more fully speake her heart And joy , than text or comment can impart ? But oh how little like her selfe when shee VVhose upcast , downe cast lookes , behold the tree ? That fatall tree whereon the Lord of breath Expos'd himselfe to th'tyranny of death ; VVas ever sorow so set forth ? and yet To make the quire of heavinesse compleat , The lov'd disciple bears his part , and so Doth that brave lasse that clips the Crosse below . Consult allauthors , English Greek & Lattin , You nere saw truer greife or finer sattin . Foule fall the bird whose undiscerning mute Presumes to turpifye so rich a suite ; T' was very strange they durst so boldly greeve When those untutor'd hacksters of the Shreeve Close by sat armed Cap-a-pee with speares , And swords , and glittering helmets , or'e their eares Bestriding fiery steeds so markt so made Bucephalu's himselfe was but a jade Compar'd to these , why ? who would be but vext To see such pal●…ryes here , and none it 'h text ? Next let your eyes and thoughts be fixt upon The sad-sad story of the passion ; See how from side , from feet , from hands as yet The crimson blood trills down , you 'l sweare t were wet ; Were Thomas here himselfe , he would not linger But sooner trust his eyes then erst his finger . Mark how death 's sable cloud doth over-spread His lips , his cheeks , his eyes , his sacred head . Behold death drawn to th' life , as if that hee Thus wrackt and stretch't upon th' accursed tree , Had been of purpose nayld to th' crosse to try The Painters cunning hand , more than to dye . He left him dead , but t was not in the power Of grave , or hell to keep him , there one houre Beyond his own determination . Three dayes are past , and Ionah's type is done He walkes , and in full glory leaps from tombe : As Lazarus from th' earths insatiate wombe , But not to dye againe : meane while the guard Who vigilantly slept , soon as they heard Deaths prisoner , and their's so strangely rise Start up with frighted hearts and gastly eyes . They stare and muse , and sweare , the heardsmen talke Strange things , but nere till now saw dead men walke : Do but take notice how the rascalls look As if some prodigie had thunderstrook The villaines hearts , or some strange power had showne Medufae's head , and turnd them all to stone . Sure small perswasion would have made the Elves For feare of further paines to hang themselves : And blame them not , the Lord was now calcin'd Bright as the Sun , his body so refin'd That not the sawcinesse of mortall eye Could stare upon such lustre and not dye . His glorifi'd humanity can stay No more on earth , heaven calls , he must away ; Yet ere he part hee 'le take his leave , th'eleven , Attend , and see him ravisht into heaven . Their eyes ( untill an interposing cloud Did interdict accesse of sight , and shrowd His godlike countenance from mortall ken ) Still waite upon th' ascending Lord ; but when Distance had snat cht him from their view , they lift Their hands to th' skie , as if they made some shift To draw him down againe , such was their love Thei●…e scarse assent to his ascent above . Where once more , note , the text supplyed which tells Th'Apostles were spectators and none else But count by th' pole you 'l find th' eleven increast Their troops amount to five or sixe at least . Were Luke alive , hee 'd thank the painters wit , Who saw his oversight and mended it . Let 's yeeld to reason then , let him that lists Dispute the number of th' Evangelists ; If Judgement ever please this thing to lift Or Greenbury or none must be the fift I've done , bur first I le pray , hayle holy cloth And live in spight of rottennesse or moth . Nor time nor vermine ere shall dare to be Corruptors of so much Divinitie ; But men of Galilee why do ye gaze , On that which may delight , but not amaze ? That 's left for us ; let any wise man bend His eyes towards our orientall end Hee'●…e blesse himselfe indeed , grow wise ; withall Approaching take the window for a wall And then conclude that Wadehams perspective Nor Lincolnes stately types can long survive ; They 'le break for envie ( spight of wise ) to find Us to transcend themselves so farre behind ; But I le not prayse our own , 't is far more fit To leave the talke to some fine Maud'lin wit , Who may enroule in some well languish●…t staine As we their walls , so they our lights againe Only I feare they will , ( least we surpasse ) Pull down their hall to build up Eastern glass . An Elegie . WHy faire vow-breaker , have thy sinnes thought fit That I be curst example of thy wit As well as scornes ? ( bad womn ) have not I Deserv'd as much as quiet misery ? Be wise and trouble not my suffering fit For every sin I have repentance yet , Except for loving thee ; do not thou presse My easie madnesse to a wickednesse As high as that , least I be driven so As far from heaven as thou art , which I know Is not thy ayme , for thou hast sin'd to be In place , as in affection , farre from me . Am I thy freind or kinsman ? have I ought That is familiar with thee bettring thought A dreame and some few letters too , yet lye Neglected records of my injury . I know no itch my silent sorrowes moves : To begg a bridall kisse or paire of gloves These are the lighter dutyes which they seek Whose sleepe is sound & constant as the week Is in her nights , who never met the chaunce Of love amisse , but in a dreameing traunce And wak't to gladnesse ; t' is not so with me My night and day are twins in misery . These spend-thrift eyes have beene prepar'd with feares To keep a solemne revelling in teares ; Hadst thou beene silent I had known the shame Of that dayes union by my greife , not fame . Priva'te as sorrowes lodging had I dwelt Follow'd with my dispaire and never felt Anger except for livinge hadst thou bin Content with my undoinge 'T is a sinn My love cannot forgive there to upbraid Awret chednesse which thou thy selfe hast made ▪ Heaven knowes I sufferd , and I sufferd so That by me t was as infallible to know How passive man is , fate knew not a curse Except thy new contempt to make mee worse And that thou gav'st when I so low was brought I knew not if I liv'd but yet I thought , And counted sighs and teares , as if to scann The aire and water would make up a man. Hadst thou not broake the peace of my decay Ere this I thinke ●…'de wept some sinns away , Being diseas'd , diseas'd past mine owne cure Thou wouldst needs kill which made mee to indure My patience : why ( Ioyes murdresse ) wouldst thou prove VVhether that bee as passive as my love ? Had woman such a way as shee can give To man deniall , as of love to live ? VVhy then th' abhored reason meers me ; why Successless lovers doe so quickly dye , So be it with mee , but if any curse First can be fastned on thee which is worse Then thy unwept for vow-breach may it come As my greife heavye ; may the tedious summe Of thy great sinns stand sentinell to keep Repentance from thy thoughts reach . May thy Sleep Be broken as my hopes , 'bove all may ●…e Thou choosest husband ripe to jealousye . And find it true , to tell thee ; may the theames On which thy sleepe doth paraphrase in dreames Bee my sad wrongs : and when some other shall ( VVhom chance hath made with mee apocryphall In loveing storyes ) search an instance forth To curse his Mistris for her little worth , May thy name meet him , under whom must be The Common place of womans perjury . May heaven make all this : and if thou pray May heaven esteeme as that thou didst that day Of thy last promises , I 've said , be free This pennance done , then my dayes destinye By thee is antedated . But three sighs Must first pay my admission to the skyes . One for my madness , loving woman so That I could think her true ; the next I le throw For wounded lovers , that I 'le breath a new ; The third shall pray my curses may prove true . In imitation of Sir Philip Sydnie's Encomium of Mopsa . ASsist mee Love , and Lov 's , great Queen of Paphos Inspire my muse with straines more rich then Saphos ! Approach you Heliconiau lasses , even Chaste Erato , Thalie and th' other seaven . Direct my quill whilst I her praises caroll out Whose paralle's not found in all the world about In lovelinesse sh' excells ( and 't is no wonder ) Those brave Cicilian , forgers of Joves thunder , For chastity I m'e sure her equall none is Not Venus selfe that lov'd the faire Adonis . Medea's not more mild , who as the talk is Made Iason steale the golden fleece from Cholchos . For modest silence , I dare say shee 'l fit ye Wherein shee 's not an ace behind Zantippe , But Oh! the comely graces of her feature Great Plutoes Cour affords not such a creature , Her golden tresses far surpasse Megaera's In compassing her lofty forehead , whereas No frown nor wrinckle ere appeares to fright ye But still more calme than smooth fac'd Amphirité . Beneath those vaulted cells are fixt those torches From whence proceeds that flame so fiercely siorches . Between both which her precious nose is placed , With fairest pearles and rubies rich encased . Next comes her heavenly mouth whose sweet composure Falls not within expressions , limmits , no sure . This even unto her precious eares doth guide us , Which makes her full as faire as great King Mydas . She 's smooth as Pan , her skin ( which you 'le admire ) is Like purest gold , more glorious far then Iris , And to close up this Magazin of pleasures She most exactly treads god - Vulcans measures This is my Mistris Character , and if in These lines her name you misse ; 't is faire Befs Griffin . A Scholler that sold his Cussion . TOm I commend thy care of all I know , That souldst this Cushion for a pipe of To — Now art thou like though not to studdy more Yet ten times harder then thou didst before . On the death of Cut. Cobler . DEath and an honest Cobler fell at bate And finding him worne out , would needs translate ; He was a trusty so'le , and time had bin He would well liquord go through thick and thin . Death put a trick upon him , and what was 't ? The Cobler call'd for All , death brought his last ; 'T was not uprightly done to cut his thread , That mended more and more till he was dead : But since hee 's gone , 't is all that can be said , Honest Gut-Cobler here is underlayd . A Letter to Ben. Johnson . DIe Iohnson , crosse not our Religion so As to be thought immortall ; let us know Thou art no God ; thy works make us mistake Thy person , and thy great creations make Us I doll thee , and cause we see thee do Eternall things , think thee eternall too , Restore us to our faith and dye , thy doome Will do as much good as the fall of Rome : 'T will crush an heresie , we ne're must hope For truth till thou be gon , thou and the Pope . And though we may be certaine in thy fall To lose both wit and judgement , braines and all , Thou Sack , nor Love , nor Time recover us Better be fooles then superstitious . Dye ! to what end should we thee now adore There is not Schollership to live to more , Our language is refin'd : professors doubt Their Greek and Hebrew both shall be put out And we that Latin studied have so long Shall now dispute & write in Iohnsons tongue , Nay , courtiers yeeld , & every beautious wench Had rather speak thy English then her French. But for thy matter fancy stands agast Wondering to see her strength thus best at last . Invention stops her course and bids the world Look for no more ; she hath already hurld Her treasure all on one , thou hast out-done So much our wit and expectation , That were it not for thee , we scarse had known Nature her selfe could ere so farre have gon . Dye ! seemes it not enough thy verse's date Is endlesse ; but thine own prolonged fate Must equall it ; for shame engross not age But now ( the fith act ended ) leave the stage . And let us clap , we know the Stars that do Give others one sife , give a laureat two . But thou , if thus thy body long survives , Hast two eternities , and not two lives . Die for thine own sake , seest thou not thy praise Is shortned onely by this length of daies . Men may talk this , and that , to part the strife , My tenet is , thou hast no fault but life . Old Authors do speed best , me-thinks thy warm breath Casts a thick mist betwixt thy worth , which death Would quickly dissipate . If thou wouldst have Thy Bayes to flourish , plant them on thy grave . Gold now is drosse , and Oracles are stuffe With us , for why ? Thou art not low enough . We still look under thee . Stoop , and submit Thy glory to the meanest of our wit. The Rhodsan Colossus , ere it fell , Could not be scan'd and measured , half so well . Lie levell to our view , so shall we see , Our third and richest University . Art's length , Art's heighth , Art's depth , can ne're be found , Till thou art prostrate , stretch'd upon the ground . Learning no farther then thy life extends , With thee began all Arts , with thee it ends . On a young Lady , and her Knight . A Vertuous Lady sitting in a muse , ( As fair and vertuous , Ladies often use , ) With elbow leant upon one knee so hard , The other distant from it half a yard . Her Knight , to quip her by a secret token , Said , Wife , arise , your Cabinet stands open . She rising , blush'd , and smilingly did say , Lock it then , if you please , you keep the key . On a Welch-man's devotion . THe way to make a Welch-man thirst for blisse , And daily say his prayers on his knees , Is , to perswade him , that most certain 't is , The Moon is made of nothing but green cheese : Then he 'l desire nought else , nor greater boon , Then plac'd in heaven , to feed upon the Moon . On a Maid's Legge . FAir Betty us'd to tuck her coats up high , That men her foot and leg might soon espy . Thou hast a pretty legg , ( saith one ) fair Duck. Yea , two , ( saith she ) or else I have ill luck . They 're two indeed , they 're twins , I think , quoth he , They are , and yet they are not , Sir , said she ; They 're birth was both at once , I dare be sworn And yet between them both a man was born . To his Sister . LOving sister , every line Of your last Letter , was so fine , With the best mettall , that the grain , Of Scriveners pin-dust had been vain . The touch of gold did sure instill Some vertue , more than did your quill . And since you write no cleanly hand , Your tokens make me understand . Mine eyes have here a remedy , Whereby to read more easily . I do but jest ; Your love alone , Is my interpretation , My words I will recall , and swear , I know your hand is wondrous fair . On the death of Hobson , the Cambridge-Carrier . HEre Hobson lies , amongst his many betters , A man not learned , yet of many Letters ; The Schollers well can justifie as much , Who have receiv'd them from his pregnant pouch . His carriage is well known , oft hath he gone An Embassie , 'twixt father and the son . In Cambridge few ( in good time be it spoken ) But will remember him by some good token . From thence to London rode he day by day , Till death benighting him , he lost his way . Nor wonder is it , that he thus is gone , Since most men know , he long was drawing on . His Team was of the best , nor could he have Them mir'd in any ground , but in the grave ; And there he sticks indeed , still like to stand , Untill some Angell lend his helping hand . So rests in peace the ever toiling Swain , And supream Waggoner , next Charls his wain . Another on the same . HEre lieth one , who did most truely prove , That he could never die , whilst he could move . So hung his destiny , never to rot , Whilst he could but jogg on , and keep his trot . Made of Sphear mettall , never to decay , Untill his resolution made of stay . Time numbers motion , yet without a crime , 'Gainst old truth , motion numbered out his time . And like some Engine mov'd , with wheeles and weight , His principles once ceas'd , he ended streight . Rest , that gives all men life , gave him his death , And too much breathing put him out of breath . For had his doings lasted as they were He had been an immortall Carrier . Another . HEre lies old Hobson ! Death hath his desire , And here ( alasse ) hath left him in the mire ; Or else the waies being foul , twenty to one , He 's here stuck in a slough , and overthrown . 'T was such a shifter , that if truth were known , Death was half glad that he had got him down . For he hath any time this ten years full , Dog'dd him 'twixt Cambridge and the London-Bull . And surely death could never have prevail'd , Had not his weekly course of carriage fail'd . But lately finding him so long at home , And thinking now his journey's end was come ; And that he had tane up his latest Inne , Death in the likenesse of a Chamberlin , Shew'd him his room , where he must lodge that night , Pull'd off his boots , and took away the light . If any ask for him , it shall be sed , Hobson has supt , and newly gon to bed . Fr. Clark , Porter of St. Johns , To the President . HElp Silvanus , help god Pan , To shew my love to this kinde man , Who out of 's love and nature good , Hath well encreas'd my store of wood . And whilest he the same peruses , Wood-Nymphs help instead of Muses . Oh thou that sitst at St. Iohns helm , I humbly thank thee for my Elme ; Or if it chance an Oak to prove , With heart of Oak I thank your love . This Tree ( to leave all Ovid's fables ) Shall be the Tree of Predicables . Or if you like not that opinion , The kindred Tree of great Iustinian . Thus finer Wits may run upon 't , But I do mean to make fire on 't : By which I 'le sit and sing , in spight of wealth , And drink in Lambs-wool to your Worship's health . An Epitaph . HEre underneath this stone doth lie , That worthy Knight , brave Sir Iohn Drie ; At whose funerall there was no weeping , He dy'd before Christmas , to save house-keeping . A Wife . A Lusty young Wife , that of late was sped , With all the pleasures of a marriage-bed , Oft a grave Doctor ask'd , whether's more right For Venus sports , the morning or the night . The good old man reply'd , as he thought meet , The morn's more wholsom , but the night more sweet . Nay then ( said she ) since we have time and leasure , We 'l to 't each morn for health , each night for pleasure . The constant man. HE that with frownes is not dejected , Nor with soothing smiles erected ; Nor at the baits of pleasure biteth , He whom no thoughts nor crosse affrighteth But , center to himself , controleth , Change and fortune when she rouleth . Who when the silent night begins , Makes even reckoning with his sinns : Who not deferreth till to morrow , To wipe out his black scores of sorrow . Who sets hell-pains at six and seven , And feareth not the fall of heaven . But 's full resolv'd without denyall , To yield his life to any tryall ; Making his death his meditation , And longing for his transmigration . This is the constant man , who never From himself , nor God doth sever . To his Mistris . COme let 's hug and kisse each other , Sacrificing to Love's mother : These are duties which she loves , More then thousand milky Doves Fresh bleeding on her altars . We Will not use our piety In such slaughters . Cruelty Is no devotion , nor can I Believe , that she can pleasure take In blood , unlesse for Mars his sake . No : Let us to Cythera's Queen , Burn for sacrifice our green , And tender youth , with those divine Flames , which thine eyes begot of mine . And lest the while our zeal catch cold , In warm embraces we 'l enfold Each other , to produce a heat . Thus pleasing her , we pleasure get . Then let 's kisse and hugg each other , Sacrificing to Lov 's mother . Swearing . IN elder times , an antient custom was , In weighty matters to swear by the Masse . And when the Mass was down , as all men note , Then swore they by the crosse of the grey Groat . And when the crosse was likewise held in scorn , Then faith and troth was all the oath was sworn . But when they had out-worn both faith and troth , Then , Dam my soul , became a common oath . So custom kept decorum in gradation : Mass , cross , faith , troth out-sworn , then came damnation . On a good Legg and Foot. IF Hercules tall stature might be guess'd But by his thumb , the Index of the rest , In due proportion , the best rule that I Would chuse , to measure Venus beauty by , Should be her leg and foot : Why gaze we so On th'upper parts , as proud to look below , ( In chusing Wives ) when 't is too often known , The colours of their face are not their own . As for their legs , whether they mince or stride , Those native compasses are seldom wide Oftelling truth . The round and slender foot , Is a prov'd token of a secret note , Of hidden parts , and well this way may lead , Unto the closet of a mayden-head . Here emblems of our youth , we Roses tie ; And here the Garter , love's dear mystery . For want of beauty here , the Peacock's pride , Let 's fall her train , and fearing to bespy'd , Shuts up her painted witnesses , to let Those eyes from view , which are but counterfeit . Who looks not if this part be good or evill , May meet with cloven feet , and match the devill . For this did make the difference between The more unhallowed creatures , and the clean . Well may you judge her other parts are light , Her thoughts are wry that doth not tread aright . But then ther 's true perfection , when we see , Those parts more absolute which hidden be . Nature ne're lent a fair foundation , For an unworthy frame to rest thereon . Let others view the top , and limbs throughout , The deeper knowledge is to know the root . In viewing of the face , the weakest know What beauty is , the learned look more low : And in the feet the other parts descry , As in a pool the Moon we use to spy . Pardon , sweet-heart , the pride of my desire , If but to kisse your toe it should aspire . Upon the view of his Mistresse face in a Glasse . AH cruel Glasse●… didst thou not see , Chloris alone too hard for me ? Perceiv'dst thou not her charming sight , Did ravish mine in cruell fight ? But then another she must frame , Whose single forces well might tame A lovers heart ; no humane one , Is proof against her force alone . Yet did I venture , though struck mute , The beauteous vision to salute . But that like aire in figur'd charms , Deceiv'd the ambush of my arms . 'T was some wise Angel her shape took , That so he might more heavenly look . I her old captive , now do yield Her shaddowed self another field : By such odds overcome , to die , Is no dishonoured victory . On Bond the Userer . HEre lyes a Bond under this tombe , Seald and deliver'd to , god knows whom . To the Duke of Buckingham . WHen I can pay my Parents , or my King ' For life , or peace , or any dearer thing , Then , dearest Lord , expect my debt to you Shall be as truly paid , as it is due . But as no other price or recompence Serves them , but love , and my obedience . So nothing payes my Lord , but what 's above The reach of hands , his vertue , and my love . For when as goodness doth so overflowe , The conscience binds not to restore but owe , Requitall were presumpt●…n , and you may , Call mee ungratefull , when I strive to pay . Nor with this morall lesson do I shift Like one that meant to save a better g●…ift . Like very poor or connterfeit poor men , Who to preserve their Turky or their hen Do offer up themselves . No , I have sent ( A kind of guift , will last by being spent ) Thanks-starling , farr above the bullion rate Of horses , hangings , jewells , coyne , or plate . Oh you that should in choosing of your owne , Know a true Diamond from a Bristow stone , You that do know they are not allwayes best In their intent , that lowdest do portest But that a prayer from the Convocation , Is better than the Commons protestation , Trust them that at your feet their lives will lay And know no arts but to performe and pray Whilst they that buy perferment without praying Begin with bribes , and finish with betraying . The Gentlemans verses before he Killed himselfe . HAst Night unto thy Center , are thy winges Rul'd by the course of dull clockt plummetings ? If so , mount on my thoughts , & wee 'le exceed All time that 's past t'gain midnight with ou●… speed The day more favourable hasted on And by its death sent mee instruction To make thy darknesse tombe my life , let then Thy wonted houres seize on the eyes of men Make them imagine by their sleepe , what I Must truly act , let each starr veyle his Eye With masques of mourninge clowdes : methinkes the owles Prodigious summons strike me , and she houles My Epicedium , with whose tragick quill I le pencill in this map my haplesse ill . Caus'd first by her , whose fowle apostacy In love for ever brand her ; and when I Am dead , deare paper ( my minds heire ) convey This epitaph unto her veiwe , and pray Her to inscribe it on my tombe . Here lyes One murthered by a womans perjuryes Who from the time , she scorn'd him , scorn'd to live No rivall shall him of his death deprive . A Song in commendation of Musicke . WHen whispering straines doe softly steale With creeping passion through the heart And when at every touch wee feel Our pulses beat and beare a part When threads can make A hart string quake Philosophy Can scarce denye The soule consists of harmony . When unto heavenly joyes we feigne What ere the soul affecteth most Which only thus we can explaine By musick of the winged host . Whose layes wee thinke Make starrs to winke Philosophy Cannot deny Our soule consists of harmony . O lull mee , lull mee , charminge ayr My senses rockt with wonder sweet Like snow on wooll , thy fallings are Soft , like a spirit , are thy feet Greife who need feare That hath an eare Downe let him lye And slumbring dye And change his soule for harmony . A Dialogue betwixt Cupid and a Country-Swaine . AS Cupid tooke his bow and bolt Some birding-sport to find ; He lightt upon a shepheards swaine That was some good mans hinde . Swa. Well met faire Boy , what sport abroad It is a goodly day : The birds will sitt this frosty morne You cannot choose but slay . Gods-ouches look , your eyes are out You will not bird I trow : Alas goe home or else I thinke The birds will laugh at you . Cup. Why man thou dost deceave thy selfe Or else my mother lyes Who sayd that though that I were blind My arrowes yet had eyes . Swa. Why then thy mother is a voole And thou art but an elfe , To let thy arrowes to have eyes And goe with out thy selfe , Cup. Not , so Sir Swaine , but hold thy prate , If I do take a shaft I le make thee know what I can do ( At this the young Swain laught : ) Then angry Cupid drew his bow Swa. For Gods sake kill mee not . Cup. I le make thy lither liver ake Swa. Nay I de be loth of that . The singing arrow hit the marke And pierc'd his silly soule You might see by his hollow eyes Where love had made a hole . And so the Swain went bleeding home , To stay it was no boot : And found that he could see to hit , That could not see to shoot . Sighes . O Tell mee , tell , thou god of winde In all thy cavernes canst thou find A vapor , flame , a gale or blast Like to a sigh which love doth cast ? Can any whirle-wind in thy vault Plough up Earths breath with like assault . Goe Wind and blow then where thou please Yea breathlesse leave mee to my ease . If thou bee'st wind , O then refrain From wracking me whilst I complain ; If thou bee'st wind , then leight thou art And yet how heavy is my heart ? If thou bee'st wind , then purge thy way Let care , that cloggs thy force , obey , Goe wind and blowe , &c. These blasts of sighing raised are By th' influence of my bright starre ; The AEolus from whence they came Is love that straines to blow the same : The angry Sway of whose behest Makes hearth and bellowes of one brest . Go wind and blowe , &c. Know t' is a wind that longs to blow Upon my Saint where ere she goe , And stealing through her fanne it beares Soft errands to her lipps and eares , And then perhaps a passage makes Downe to the heart when breath she takes . Goe wind and blow , &c. Yea gentle gale , try it againe , Oh do not passe from me in vaine ; Go mingle with her soul divine Engendring spirits like to mine : Yea take my soul along with thee To work a stronger Sympathy . Goe wind and blow , &c. My soul before the grosser part Thus to her heaven should depart , And when my body cannot lie On wings of wind , she soone shall flye ; Though not one soul our bodies joyne , Our bodies shall our soules combine . Goe wind and blow thou where thou please , Yea breathlesse leave me to my ease . Weomen . WEomen are borne in Wilsheire , Brought up in Cumberland . Lead their lives in Bedfordsheire Bring their husbands to Buckingame And dye in Shrewsbury . On a dissemble●… . COuld any show where Pl●…es people dwell Whose head stand in their brests , who cannot tell , A smoothinge lye , because their open heart And lipps are joyned so neere . I would depart As quicke as thought , and there forget the wrongs Which I have sufferd by deceitfull tongues . I would depart , where soules departed bee Which being freed from clowdy flesh , can see Each other so immediately , so cleare , That none need tongues to speak nor eares to heare : Were tongues intended to expresse the soul And can wee better do with none at all ? Where words first made our meanings to reveale ? And as they us'd our meaning to conceale ; The ayre by which we breathe , will that turne fogg ? Or breath turne mist ; will that become a Clogg Which should unload the mind ? fall wee upon Another Babells Sub-confusion ? And in the selfe same language must wee find , A diverse faction of the wordes and mind ? Dull as I am , that hug such empty aire , And never markt the deeds , ( a phrase more faire More trusty and univocall ) joyne well , Three or foure actions wee may quickly spell A hollow heart ; if these no sight will lend , Read the whole sentence and observe the end . I wil not waite so long : the guilty man ( On whom I ground my speech ) no longer can Delude my sense , nor can the gracefull art Of kind dissembling , button up his heart . His well-spoke wrongs , are such as hurtful ●…ords Writ in a comely hand , or bloody swords , Sheathd up in velvet , if he draw on mee My armour proof is incredulity . To a Freind . LIke as the hand which hath bin usd to play One lesson long , still runs the usuall way : And waites not what the ●…earers bid it strike , But doth presume by custome this will like . So run my thoughts which are so perfect grown , So well acquainted with my passion ; That now they do prevent mee with their haste And ere I think to sigh , my sigh is past ; Is past and flown to you , for you alone Are all the object that I think upon ; And did not you supply my soul with thought For want of action it to none were brought . What though our absent armes may not enfold Reall embraces ; yet wee firmly hold Each other in possession ; thus wee see The Lord enjoyes his Lands where e're he be . If Knights possest no more then where they sate What were they greater then a meaner state ? This makes mee firmly yours , you firmly myne That something more than bodies us combine . A Poeticall Poem , by Mr. Stephen Locket to Mistrisse Bess Sarney . TO my Bess Sarney , quintessence of beauty , I Steven Locket do present my duty . In rythem daigne goddess to accept my verses , I wis with worse wise men have wip't their A — O thou which able art to take to taske all ( Pox ! what will rythme to that ? ) oh , I 'me a raskall , But I 'me turnd poet late , and for thy credit , Have pend this poem , prethee tak 't and read it . Thou needs not be asham'd of 't , for it raises Trophyes as high as maypoles to thy prayses . But first in order it thy head doth handle That 's more orbicular than a quadrangle . On top of which doth grow a Turst of tresses Winter her selfe , rayd in her hoary dresses Of frost , lookes not more lovely ; thy browes truly Have larger furrowes , than a feild ploughed newly . Thy eyes , ha eyes ( Zounds I'am so full of clinches ) Are not sunck in thy head above sixe inches ; From which distraining gently , there doth streame Rivers of whey , mixed with curdled creame . Straight as a Rams horne is thy nose , more marrow Lyes in thy nostrills , than would fill a barrow . And at your lip to mak 't more ornamentall , Hangs down a jewell of S — Orientall . The bright gold & thy face are of one colour , But if compar'd with thine , that is the duller . Thy lips are white as tallow , never man did Buss sweeter things , ( sure they are sugarcandid . ) Thy teeth more comely than two dirty rakes are , Thy breath is stronger than a douzen j●…kes are . A fa●…t for all perfumes , a turd for roses Smell men but thee , they wish them selves all n●…ses . Thy voyce as sweet , as musicall , as fine is , As any phlegmy Hagg's , that ninty nine is . And when thou speakst , ( as if th 'had bin the wonder Of women kind ) thy tongu's as still as thunder But oh thy shoulders large ; 't is six to seven , Should Atla's faile , but thou wouldst beare up heaven . Thou dost excell , I warrant thee for a button , Hercules and Cacus too , that stole mutton . About the wast , there thou art three times fuller , Then was the Wadham G●…ragantuan Buller . Thy buttock and thy fashion are so all one , That I 'de a swore thou hadst a Fardingall on Thy leggs are Badg●…t like , and goe as even , As do Iambick verses or I Steven , And now I 'm come unto thy feet , where I do Prostrate my selfe , with reverence to thy shoo , Which for antiquity ne're a jot behind is . Tom Coriats , that travell'd both the Indies . For thy sweet sake , I will go down to Pluto , And in thy quarrel beat him black & blew too ; And lest Sr Cerberus should be too lusty , I have a loafe will hold him play , 't is crusty . I 'le bring the Dev'll back with me in a snaffle , For in that kind I scorne to take a baffle . And so I take my leave ; prithee sweet Thumkin , Hold up thy coats , that I may kisse thy bumkin . Thanks for a welcome . FOr your good looks , and for your Claret For often bidding , Do not spare it ; For tossing glasses to the top , And after sucking of a drop , When scarce a drop was left behind , Or what doth nickname wine e'vn wind : For healthfull mirth and lusty Sherry , Such as made grave old Cato merry ; Such are our thanks that you may have In bloud the Claret that you gave . And in your service shall be spent The spirits which your Sack hath lent . To Phillis . FYe on this Courtly life , full of displeasure Where neither frownes nor smiles keepe any measure , But every passion governs in extremes , True love and faith from hence falshod doth banish : And vowes of friendship here like vapours vanish , Loyalty's counted but a dreame , Inconstant favours like rivers gliding , Truth is despis'd Whilst flatterie's priz'd , Poore vertue here hath no certaine abiding . Then let 's no longer stay , my fairest Phillis , But let us fly from hence where so much ill is ; Into some some desert place there to abide True love shall go with us and faith unfained Pure thoughts , embraces chaste , and vowes unstain'd . Vertue her selfe shall ever be our guide , In Cottage poore where neither frowning fortune , Nor change of fate Can once abate , Our sweet content , or peace at all importune . There will we drive our flocks from hills and vallies , And whilst they feeding are , wee 'l sit & dally ; And thy sweet voyce to sing birds shall invite Whilst I with roses , violets , and lillies Will flowry garlands make to crown my Phillis . Or numbred verses to thy praise indite And when the Sun is Westwardly declining , Our flocks and we , Will home wards flee And rest our selves untill the Suns next shining . Women . ONce I must confesse I loved And expected love againe , But so often as I proved My expectance was in vaine . Women joy to be attempted , And do glory when they see Themselves from loves force exempted , And that men captived bee . If they love , they can conceale it , And dissemble when they please , When as men will straight reveale it And make known their hearts disease . Men must beg and crave their favour , Making many an idle vow ; Whilst they froward in behaviour , Faine would yeild , but know not how . Sweet stolne-sport to them is gratefull , And in heart they wish to have it ; Yet they do account it hatefull Upon any termes to crave it . But would men not goe about it But leave off at all to woe , Ere they would be long without it , They would beg and crave it too . The World. WHether men do laugh or weep , Whether they doe wake or sleep , Whether they feele heat or cold , Whether they be young or old ; There is underneath the Sun Nothing in true earnest done . All our pride is but a jest , None are worst and none are best ; Greife and joy , and hope and feare , Play their pageants every where ; Vaine opinion all doth sway And the world is but a play . Powers above in clouds doth sit , Marking our poore apish wit , That so lamely without state , Their high glory imitate . No ill can be felt but paine , And that happy men disdaine . On his absent Mistresse . ABsence , heare thou my protestation Against thy strength , Distance and length ; Do what thou canst for alteration : For hearts where love 's refin'd Are absent joyn'd , by tyme combin'd . Who loves but where the Graces be , His mind hath found Affectious ground Beyond time place mortality , That heart that cannot varie , Absence is present tyme doth carry . By absence this good meane I gaine That I can catch her , Where none can watch her , In some close corner of my brain , There I embrace her , and there kisse her And so enjoy her , and so misse her . The Constant Lover . I Know as well as you , shee is not faire , Nor hath she sparkling eyes or curled haire ; Nor can shee brag of vertue or of truth , Or any thing about her save her youth . Shee is woman too , and to no End I know , I verses write and letters send : And nought I doe can to compassion move her Al this I know , yet cannot choose but love her . Yet am not blind as you and others bee ; Who think and sweare they littile Cupid see Play in their Mistris eyes , and that there dwell Roses on cheekes , and that her brest excell The whitest snow , as if that love were built On fading red and white ' the bodies quilt . And that I cannot love unless I tell Wherein or on what part my love doth dwell . Vaine Hereticks you bee , for I love more Then ever any did that told wherefore : Then trouble mee no more , nor tell mee why , T is ! because shee is shee , and I am I : The Irish Beggar . I Pray you save poore Irish knave , A hone a hone Round about the towne throughout Is poore Shone gone , Master to find , Loving and kinde But Shone to his mind 's Neare the neere , Poore Shone can find none heere Which makes him cry for feare , A hone a hone . Sh●…n being poore , his feet being sore , For which hee le no more Trot about , To find Master out , He had radir go without And cry a hone , I was so curst that I was forc't A hone a hone . To goe bare foot and strips to boot And no shooes , none , None English could I speake , My mind for to breake , And many laught to heare the moane I made , I like a tyred jade , That had no worke or trade , Cryed , a hone a hone . In stead of breakfast , Was faine runn a pace To gett more stomach to my hungry throate , And when for freind I sought , They calld me all to nought , A hone a hone . For Ladyes sake some pitty take ; A hone a hone . I serv'd a lasse where was no masse No faith none ; Oft was I beat 'cause I de not eat , On frydayes , beefe and meat , Twice a day , And when I went to pray , Tooke holy bead away ; A hone a hone . Make Church to go Whether will or no I le dye , or I doe so , Grace a Christ , Poor Shone loves Popish Preist , Good Catholick thou seest . A hone a hone . Answer . I prithee Shone make no more mone For thy Mr lost . I doe intend something to spend , , On Catholicks thus Crost . Take this small guift , And with it make a shift ; And bee not thou bereft of thy minde , All though hee be unkind ; To leave thee thus behind To cry a hone . Buy thee some beere , And then some good cheere , There 's nought for thee too deare ; What ere ensue Be constant still and true , Thy country do not rue Nor cry a hone . Shone Good shentry men that do intend To helpe poore Shone at 's need Mine patron ●…eer hath given mee beere And meat whereon to feed , Yea and money too And so I hope that you , VVill do as he did do for my reliefe , To ease my paine and greife ; I le eat no powdred beefe ; VVhat ere ensue I le keep my fast As in times past , And all my prayers and vowes I will renew Cause friends I find but few , Poore Shone will still prove true , And so adieu . A Question . I aske thee whence those ashes were Which shrine themselves in plaits of haire ? Unknown to me , sure each morne dyes . A Phoenix for a sacrifice . I aske whence are those aires that flye From birds in sweetest harmony ? Unknown to me , but sure the choice Of accents ecchoed from her voice . I aske thee whence those active fires Take light which glide through burnisht aire ? Unknown to me , unlesse there flyes A flash of lightning from her eyes . I aske thee whence those ruddy bloomes Pierce on her cheekes on scarlet gownes ? Unknowne to me ? Sure that which flyes From fading roses , her cheek dyes . I le ask thee of the lilly , whence It gaind that type of innocence ? Unknowne to me , sure natures deck●… Was ravish'd from her snowie necke . The Reply . ASke me no more , whither do stray The golden atomes of the day ; For in pure love , heaven did prepare Those powders , to enrich your haire . Aske me no more whither doth haste The nightingal when summer's past ; For in your sweet devided throat She winters , and keepes warme her noate . Aske me no more where those starres light VVhich downewards stoop in dead of night ; For in your eyes they sett ; and there Fixed become , as in their spheare . Aske me no more where Iove bestowes , When Iune is past , the fading rose ; For in your beauties Orient deep , All flowers as in their bedds do sleep . Aske me no more if East or West , The Phoenix builds her spiced nest ; For unto you at last she flyes , And in your fragrant bosome dyes . The Mock-Song . I Tell you true , whereon doth light The dusky shade of banisht night , For in just vengeance heavens allow It still should shine upon your brow . I tell you true where men may seek The sound which once the owle did shreek , For in your false deviding throat It lyes , and death is in its noate . I tell you true whither do passe The siniling look out of a glasse ; It leapes into your face , for there A falser shadow doth appeare . I le tell you true whither are blowne The airy wheeles of Thistle down , They fly into your mind , whose care Is to be light as thistles are . I tell you true within what nest The stranger Cuckoe's eggs do rest , It is your bosome which can keepe Nor him , nor him , where one should sleepe . The Moderatix . I Le tell you where another sun That setts , as riseing it begun . It is my selfe who keepes one spheare And were the same if men so were . What need I tell , that life and death , May passe in sentence from one breath ; So issue from my equall heart Both love and scorn for mens desert . I le tell you in what heavenly hell An Angell and a friend may dwell : It is myne eye whose glassy book Sends back the gazers divers look . I le tell you in a divers scale One weight can up and downewards hale : You call me thistle , you a rose ; I neither am , yet both of those . I le tell you where both frost and fire In peace of common feat conspire ; My frozen brest that flint is like , Yet yeilds a fire if you will strike . Then you that love , and you that loath . With one aspect I answer both ; For round about me glowes a fire , Can melt and harden grosse desire . The affirmative answer . OH no , heaven saw mens fancyes stray To idolize but dust and clay ; That embleme gave that they might see , Your beautye's date but dust must bee . No Philomel when summers gon Hasts to the wood her rape to moane ; ( Unwilling hers ) a shamd to see Your ( unlike hers ) unchastity . Oh no , those starrs flye but the sight Of what you act in dead of night , A shamd themselves should Pandars prove In your unsatiate beastly love . Oh no , that rose when Iune is past Lookes pale as with a poysonous blast ; And such your beauty , when as time Like winter shall oretake your prime . Oh no the Phoenix shuns the place , And feares the lustfull fires t' embrace , Of your hot brest and barren wombe , As death or some perpetuall tombe . A discourse between a Poet and a Painter . Poet. PAinter , I p●…ithee pencill to the life The woman thou wouldst willingly call wife , Fashion her from the head unto the heel , So perfect that but gazing thou mayst feel Pigmaleons passion : colour her faire haire , Like amber , or to something else more rare , Temper a white shall passe Pyrenean snow , To raise her temples , and on it bestow Such artificiall azure , that the Eye , May make the heart beleeve the ma●…ble skye , To perfect her had melted in soft raines , Lending a blew to brauuch her swelling veines , Then Painter , to come lower , her sweet chin , I would have small and white , not much trench'd in ; Nor alltogether plain , but such an one The nicest thought may judge equall to none . Her nose I would have comely , not too high , Though men call it , in Physiognomy , A type of honour ; nor too low ▪ f●…r then They I say , sh●…'s known ( God knowes ) how many men ; Nor broad , nor flat , that 's the hard favour'd mould : Nor thin , nor sharp , for then they 'le call her scold . Apparrell it in such a speaking grace , That men may read Majesty in her face . Her lipps a paire of blushing twinnes so red , Nice fancy may depart away full fed . But , Painter , when thou com●…st unto her eye , There let thy Pencill play ; there cunningly Expresse thy selfe , for as at feasts ▪ so here The dainties I keep last to crown the cheer . Make her eye Love●…●…veet argument , a look That may discourse ▪ make it a well w●…it book , Whereas in faire set 〈◊〉 of art , Men there may read the story of her heart . Whiter than white , if you would po●…rtray ought , Display her neck cure as the purest thought . To make her gratious give her a broad brest Topt with two milkie mountains ; down her chest . Between those hills let Loves sweet vally lye , The pleasing thraldome of a Love-sick eye . Still , Painter , to fall lower paint her waste Straight as the Cedar , or the Norway Mast , To take a modest step , let men but guesse By her neat foot a hidden handsomnesse . Thus , Paint●…r , I would have her in each part , Remaine unmatcht by nature or by art . Canst thou doe this ? Pa●…nter . — Yes Sir , I le draw a feature , You shall conclude that art hath out-done nature , The Pencill Sir , shall force you to confesse , It can more lively than your pen expresse . Poet. That by this then let me find , To this body draw a mind ; O Painter , to your pencill fall , And draw me something rationall : Give her thoughts , serious , secure , Holy , chaste , religious , pure . From vertue never known to start , Make her an understanding heart . Seat the Graces in her mind , A well taught truth , a faith refin'd From doubts and jelousies ; and give Unto her heart a hope may live Longer then time , untill it be Perfected by Eternity . Give her an honest loving mind , Neither too coy , nor yet too kind : But let her equall thoughts so raise her , Loose thoughts may f●…are , and the chast praise her . Then , Painter , next observe this rule , A principle in Apelles Schoole ; Leave not too much space between Her tongue and heart , 't is seldome seen That such tell truth ; but let there be , Between them both a sympathy : For she whose tongue and heart keep even In every syllable , courts heaven : If otherwise , this maxim know , False above 's not true below . Thus mind and body let her be all over , A golden text bound in a golden cover . Canst thou doe this ? Painter . — But Sir , ' Is 't your intent I should draw her in both parts excellent ? Poet. It is . Paint . Then in plain words , not in dark sense to lurk , Find you the woman ; and ' I le fall to work . To B. R. for her Bracelets . T Is not ( Deare Love ) that Amber twist Which circles round thy captive wrist , Can have the power to make me more Your pris'ner then I was before . Though I that bracelet dearer hold , Than Misers would a chaine of gold . Yet this but tyes my outward part , Heart-strings alone can tye my heart . 'T is not that soft and silken 〈◊〉 , Your hands did unto mine bequeath ; Can bind with halfe so powerfull charmes , As the Embraces of your armes ; Although not iron bands ( my faire ) Can bind more fiercely than your ●…aire . Yet that will chaine me most will be , Your heart in True Love's-knot to me . T is not those beams , your haires , nor all Your glorious out-side doth me thrall ; Although your lookes have force enough To make the stateliest Tyrants bow : Nor any angell could deny , Your person his idolatry . Yet I do not so much adore The temple , but the goddesse more . If then my soul you would confine To prison , tye your heart to mine ; Your noble vertues , constant love , The only powerfull chaines will prove ; To bind me ever , such as those The hands of death shall ne're unloose . Untill I such a prisoner be No liberty can make me free . On Tom Holland and Nell Cotton . A Light young man lay with a lighter woman , And did request their things might bee in common ; And gave her ( when her good will he had gotten , A yard of Holland for an ell of Cotton . A We lchman . JEnkin a welchman having suites in law Journying to London chance to steal a Cow ; For which ( pox on her luck as ere man saw ) VVas burnt with in the fist , her know not how . Being ask'd how well the case did with him stand Wee's have her now ( quoth Ienkin ) in her hand . A Woman that scratcht her Husband . A VVoman lately fiercely did assail Her husband with sharp speech , but sharper nail ; On that stood by and saw her , to her sed Why do you use him so ? he is your head . He is my head ( quoth she ) indeed t is true , I do but scratch my head , and so may you . A Mistris . HEr for a Mistris , would I faine enjoy , That hangs the lipp and pouts for every toy : Speakes like a wag , is bold , dares boldly stand And bid love welcome with a wanton hand . Laughs lowd , and for one blow will give you three And when shee 's stabbd , will fall a kissing me . If shee be modest wise and chast of life , Hang her shee 's good for nothing but a wife . One fighting with his wife . MEg and her husband Tom , not long agoe , VVere at it close , exchanging blow for blow . Both being eager , both of a stout heart , Endured many a bang ere they would part . Peter lookt on & would not stint the strife , He 's curst ( quoth he ) that parteth man and wife . Ambition . THe whistling windes me-thinkes do witnesse this , No greif so great as to have liv'd in blisse . Then only this poore plain song will I sing . I was not borne , nor shall I dye a King. To leape at honour is a daungerous case , See but the gudgeons they will bite a pace . Untill the fatall hook be swallowed downe , Wherewith ambition angles for a crowne : Then be content and let the baite passe by , He hath enough that lives contentedly . But if thou must advancement have , then see This is the way thou must advanced be . True temporizing is the meanes to climbe There is no musick without keeping time . Upon a Gardiner . COuld he forget his death ? that every houre Was emblem'd to it by the fading flowre : Should he not mind his end ? yes needshe must , That still was conversant'mongst bedds of dust . Then let no on yon in an handchercher Tempt your sad eyes unto a needlesse feare ; If he that thinkes on death well lives & dyes , The gardner sure is gon to paradise . On his first Love. MY first love whom all beautyes did ado●… Fireing my heart , supprest it with her scorn . And since like tynder in my heart it lyes By every sparkle made a sacrifice . Each wanton eye now kindleth my desire And that is free to all which was entire . For now my wandring thoughts are not confin'd Unto one woman , but to woman-kind . This for her shape I love , that for her face , This for her gesture , or som other grace : And somtimes when I none of these can find I chuse her by the kernell not the rinde . And so do hope though my cheife hope is gone To find in many what I lost in one . And like to merchants which have some great losse Trade by retayle which cannot do in grosse . She is in fault , which caus'd me first to stray Needs must he wander , who hath lost his way ▪ Guiltlesse I am , she did the change provoke , Which made that charcole which at first was ok●… For as a looking glasse to the aspect , Whilst it was whole doth but one face reflect ; But crac●… or broak in peeces , there is shown●… Many lesse faces , where was first but one . So-love unto my heart did first preferre Her image , and there planted none but her : But when t was crackt & martyrd by her scorne Many lesse faces in her seat were borne , Thus like to tinder I am prone to catch Each falling sparkle , fit for any match . To his Mistris . I Will not doe sacrifice To thy face , or to thy eyes Nor unto thy lilly palme Nor thy breath that wounding balme : But the part To which my heart In vowes is sealed , Is that mine Of blisse divine Which is concealed . What 's the golden fruit to me So I may not shake the tree ? What 's that golden architecture If I may not touch the nectar ? Bare enjoying all the rest Is but like a golden feast , Which at need , Can never feed Our love sick-wishes Let me eate , Substantiall meat , Not view the dishes . To his letter . FLy paper , kisse those hands Whence I am bard of late : She quickly will unloose thy bands , O wish me thine estate . Appeare unto her eyes Though they do burne to fumes : For happy is the sacrifice , Which heaven-fire consumes . Yet ev'n with this depart With a soft dying breath , Whisper the truths into her heart , And take them on thy death . Tell her thou canst not now New oathes or give or take , Or to repeat the former vow Wee did each other make . Say thou cam'st to complain But not of love , nor her But on my fortune being faine Thus absent to conferre . When thou hast offer'd this Perhaps then for thy payne , She will inpart to thee a kisse And read the ore againe . Perhaps when form my sake , Her lipps have made thee blest , That so embalmd ●…hee , she will make Thy grave within her brest . Oh never then desire To rise from such a roome : Who would not leave his life t' aspire In death to such a tombe . And in these joyes excesse , Melt , languish , faint , and dye ▪ For might I have so good accesse To her , ev'n so would I. An Epitaph upon Hurry the Taylor . WIthin this tombe is honest Hurry layd , Who in good fashion liv'd , good fashion dy'd . T' is strange that death so soon cut off his thread Som say his end not full done , he was dead . But here the knot is , and I thus it scann He took a yard , whose due was but a spann . How er●… hee 's happy , and I know full well He 's now in heaven since here he had his hell . Scylla toothlesse . SCylla is toouthlesse ; yet when she was young , She had both tooth enough , and too much tongue : What should I now of toothlesse Scylla say ? But that her tongue hath worne her teeth away . AVicar . AN honest Vicar riding by the way , Not knowing better how to spend the day Did sing unto himself Genevaes psalmes ; A blind man hearing him straight askt an almes To whom ( quoth he ) with coine I cannot part , But god bless thee good man with all my heart , O said the man the greater is my losse , When such as you do blesse without a crosse . On a Ribband . THis silken wreath that circles-in my arms Is but an emblem of your mystick charmes ; Wherewith the magick of your beauty binds My Captive soule , and round about it winds ; Time may weare out these soft weak bands , but those : Strong chaines of brasse fate shall not discompose This holy relique may preserve my wrist , But my whole frame by th' other doth subsist : To that my prayers and sacrifice , to this I only pay a superstitious kisse . This but the idoll , that the deity ; Religion there is due , here ceremony . That I receive by faith , this but in trust ; Here I may ●…ender duty , ther●… I must : This other like a layman I may bear But I become loves preist when that I weare ; This moves like ayre , that as the center stands , That knot your vertue ●…yes , this but your hands . That nature fram'd , but this is made by art This makes my arme your prisoner , that my heart . To a Gentlewoman , desiring a copie of Verses . FAire Madam , cast those Diamonds away , What need their torchlight in so bright a day : These show within your beauties glorious noon No more than spangles fixed in the moon : Such jewells then the truest lustre beare When they hang dangling in an Aethiop's eare But placed neere a beauty , that 's so bright Like starres in day-time they are lost from sight In this you do your sex a great abuse , These are not pretious stemmes for womens use . Nature to men hath better jewells sent , Which serve for active use not ornament . Then let us make exchange , since that those be Fitter for you , and these more fit for me . On Dr. Corbett's Marriage . COme all yee Muses and rejoyce , At our Apolloes happy choice . Phoebus has conquer'd Cupids charme , Fair Daphne f●…yes into his arme . If Daphne be a tree , then marke , Apollo is become the barke . If Daphne be a branch of bay , He weares her for a crowne to day : O happy bridegrome which dost wed Thy selfe unto a virgins bed . Let thy love burne with hot desire , She l●…kes no oyle to feed the fire . You know not poore Pigmaleons lot Nor have you a meere idoll got . You no Ixion , you no proud Iuno makes imbrace a cloud . Looke how pure Dianaes skin Appeares as it is shadow'd in A crystall streame ; or looke what grace , Shines in fair Venus lovely face ; Whilst She Adonis courts and woes Such beautyes , yea and more than those , Sparkle in her ; see but her soul , And you will judge those beautyes foul . Her rarest beautye is within , She 's fairest where she is not seen ; Now her perfection's character You have approv'd and chosen her . Oh precious she ! at this wedding , The jewell weares the marriage ring . Her understanding's deep , like the Venetian Duke you wedd the sea , A sea deep , bottomelesse , profound , And which none but your selfe may sound . Blind Cupid shot not this love-dart , Your reason chose , and not your heart ; You knew her little , and when her Apron was but a muckender , VVhen that same Corrall which doth deck Her lippes , she wore about her neck : You courted her , you woed her not Out of a window ; shee was got , And borne your wife ; it may be se'd , Her cradle was her marriadge bed . The ring too was layd up for it Untill her finger was growne fit ; You once gave her to play withall A babie , and I hope you shall This day your auncient guift renew , So she will do the same for you : In Virgin wax imprint upon Her brest your owne impression , You may ( there is no treason in 't , ) Coine sterling , now you have a mint . You now are stronger than before , Your side hath in it on ribb more . Before she was a kin to me Only in soul and amity . But now wee are , since shee your bride , In soul and bodye both allyde . T' is this hath made me lesse to doe , And I in one can honour two . This match a riddle may be styld , Two mothers now have but on child ; Yet need we not a Salomon Each mother here enjoyes her owne ▪ Many there are I know have try'd , To make her their owne lovely bride ; But it is Alexanders lot , To cut in twaine the Gordian knot : Claudia to prove that she was chast , Tyed but a girdle to her wast ; And drew a ship to Rome by land But now the world may understand ; Here is a Claudia to faire bride , Thy spotlesse innocence is tryed , None but thy girdle could have led , Our Corbet to a marriage bed . Come all ye muses and rejoyce , At this your nursling's happy choyce : Come Flora straw the bridemayds bed And with a garden crowne her head , Or if thy flowers be to seek , Come gather roses at her cheek . Come Hymen light thy torches , let Thy bed with tapers be beset . And if there be no fire by , Come light thy taper at her eye , In that bright eye there dwells a starre , And wisemen by it guided are . In those delicious eyes there be , Two little balls of ivory ; How happy is he then that may With these two dainty balls goe play , Let not a teare drop from that eye Unlesse for very joy to cry . O let your joy continue ; may A whole age be your wedding day . O happy virgin , it is true , That your deare spouse embraceth you . Then you from heaven are not farre , But sure in Abrahams bosome are , Come all ye muses and rejoyce At our Apollo's happy choice . Mart. Epigr. 59 lib : 5. THoul't mend to morrow , thus thou still tell'st me Faine would I know but this , when that will be ? Where might a man that bliss-full morning finde , In vast Armenia , or in urmost Inde ? This morning comes as slow as Platoes yeare , What might this morning cost ( for sure t is deare ? ) Thou l't mend to morrow : Now 's too late ; I say He 's only wise that mended yesterday . In Richardum quendam , Divitem , Avarum . DEvising on a time what name I might Best give unto a dry illiberall chuffe , After long search on his owne name I light , Nay then ( said I ) No more , I have enough ; His name and nature do full well agree For 's name is Rich and hard ; and so is he . In Thomam quendam Catharum . THomas the puritan , cannot abide The name of Christmas , Candlemas , or such But calls them ever Christide , Candletide , At all to name the masse ( forsooth ) to much : Thomas by this your rule the sacred font In Baptism must be-wash your limmes againe , And a new name you must receive upon 't For superstitious Thomas you l disdaine . Then might I be your god●…e , or his guide , Instead of Thomas you shall have Tom-tyde . Epilogus Incerti Authoris . LIke to the mowing tone of unspoke speeches , Or like two lobsters clad in logick breeches ; Or like the gray fleece of a crimson catt , Or like a moone-calfe in a slippshoo hatt ; Or like the shaddow when the sunne is gone , Or like a thought , that nev'r was thought upon , Even such is man who never was begotten , Untill his children were both dead and rotten . Like to the fiery touch-hole of a cabbage , Or like a crablowse with his bag and baggage . Or like the guilt reflection of the winde , Or like th' abortive issue borne behind , Or like the four square circle of a ring , Or like high downe a ding a ding a ding . Even such is man who breathlesse without doubt Spake to small purpose when his tongue was out . Like the fresh colours of a withered Rose Or like a running verse that 's writ in prose . Or like the umbles of a tynder box , Or like a sound man , troubled with the pox . Or like to hobbnayles coyn'd in single pence , Lest they should lose their preterperfecttence Ev'n such is man who dyed , and yet did laugh , To read these strong lines for his Epitaph . THE INNOVATION OF PENELOPE AND VLYSSES , A Mock-Poem . By I. S. LONDON , Printed Anno Dom. 1658. The Epistle Dedicatory to the Reader . COurteous Reader , I had not gone my full time , when by a sudden flight occasioned by the Beare and Wheel-barrow on the Bank-side , I fell in travaile , and therefore cannot call this , a timely Issue , but a Mischance , which I must put out to the world to nurse ; hoping it will be fostered with the greater care , because of its own innocency . The reasons why the Dedication is so generall , is to avoid Carps in the Fishpond of this world , for now no man may reade it , but must patronize it . And must protect what he would greet perchance , If he were not the Patron with def-iance . You see here I have much adoe to hold in my muse from her jumping meeter : 't is time to let slip . For as the cunning statuarist did by Alcides foot guesse at the proportion of his whole body , so doe I forbeare the application of this Simile and rest , Yours ever . I. S. To his Worthy Friend Mr. I. S. upon his happy Innovation of Penelope and Vlysses . IT was no idle fancie , I beheld A reall obiect , that around did gild The neighbouring vallies and the mountaine tops , That sided to Parnassus , with the drops From her disheveld hayre . I sought the cause . And loe , she had her dwelling in the jawes Of pearly Helicon , assign'd to bee Guide ore the Comick straynes of poetry . She lowr'd her flight , and soone assembled all , That since old Chaucer had tane leave to call , Upon her name in print : But O the rabble Of pamphleteers even from the court toth ' stable , Knights , and dis●…arded Captaines , with the scrib●… ; Famous in water-works , besides the tribe Of the true poets , they attended on The birth of this great Convocation . Sacred Thalia , in an angrie heat That well became her zeale , rose from her seat ; And beckoning for silence , there disclaym'd , Protection of the poets , and then nam'd The cause of her revoke , for that ( quoth she ) So many panders 'long to poetry : A crue of Scriblers that with brazen face Prostitute art and worke unto disgrace My patronage , each calling out on mee For midwife to his bastard progenie . Thus standing as ●…rotectresse of that brood My care 's ill construed by the sister-hood . With that she paused a while , and glanc'st her eye Among st the mingled pen-wrights , to descrie One to d●…stinguish by a different style , Dull Latmus from Diviner Pindus soyle , At length she six't on thee , and then anon Proclaym'd the her selected champion . Then was this worke presented to her care . She smiled at it , and was pleas'd to heare Dunces so well traduc'd ; and by this rule , Discoverd all that nere were of the schoole Of noble poesie , and them she threw Farre from her care and her aquantance too ; Thus were they found and lost , and this the test , They writ in earnest what 's here meant in jest . James Atkins . To his Precious Friend I. S. upon his choyse conceipt of Penelope and Ulysses . LOng look't for comes at last ; t was sayd of old●… , I 'le use the proverb ; herein I am bold : For if the ancient Poets don't belie us Nihil jam dictum quod non dictum pri●…s : But let that passe : the thing I would intend , With my unpolist lines , is to commend A worke that may to an ingenious care Be its owne or ator ; for nothing here , But grate's this stupid age , wherein each ma●…e That can but ●…yme , is poet laureat . It is the scorne of time , and for m●… par●… That at the best am but af●…eind to art , My senses ake to heare the cry advance And dot●… upon the workes of ignorance ; Let focles admire folly : while I thee That into pastime turn'st their poetrie . To his Sonne , upon his Minerva . THou art my son , 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 ●…y choyse is spoke ; ●…hine with thy fathers muse strikes equall stroke , It shewd more art in Virgil to relate , And make it worth th' heareing , his Gnats fate ; Then to conceive what those great mindes must be That sought and found out fruitfull Italic . And such as read and do not apprehend And with applause the purpose and the end Of this neat Poem , in themselves confesse A dull stupiditie and barrennesse . Methinks I do behold in this rare birth A temple built up to facetious mirth , Pleasd Phoebus smiling on it ; doubt not then , But that the suffrage of juditious men Will honour this Thalia ; and for those That praise Sr. Bevis , or what 's worse in pros●… , Let them dwell still in ignorance . To write In a new strain , and from it ra●…se delight As thou in this hast done , doth not by chance But merit , crowne thee with the laurell branch . Phillip Massenger . To his Deare Friend Mr. I. S. upon his quaint Innovation of Penelope and Ulysses . FLy , Fly my muse , this is the tyme if ever 〈◊〉 try thy ●…ings , now sore aloftor ne●… ; Importune fame , for 't is her hand must owe A glory to this temple . Bid her blow , Till her lungs crack and call the world to see A worke that else wil●…●…'ts owne trumpet be . I would not have the squeamish Age to jeare Or slight my muse for bringing up the reare : Nor let the garish rabble looke a squint , As though I were one of their tribe in print ; It is a Trust that fitly does become My matchlesse freindship to have such a Rome For know no vulgar pen could ever glory To be the Master of so choise a story . Blush , Blush , for shame , yee wood-be-poets all , Here see ●…our faces , let this glasse recall Your faults to your remembrance , numbers , rym Your long parentheses , and verse that clim●… Up to the elbow ; here you may descry Such stuffe as weaker wits call poetry : From hence-forth let no pedling rimers dare Prophane Thalias alters with such ware . For which great cure , this booke unto thy name Shall be a trophy of immortall fame . I. M. The Author to the Author . To his worthy Friend I. S. upon his happy Translation of Ulysses and Penelope . LEt joy possesse the universall Globe , The worke is donne , bright Sol is in his robe , Let time and nature breathe , and let the arts , Pause here a while , they have perform'd their parts And as a Man , that from the Alpes doth fall Being in drinke , and has no hurt at all : When afterwards hee has considerd well , An●… veiw'd the Al●…itude , from whence hee fell , When in his sober thoughts hee has the hint on 't It frights him more then to endure the dint on 't ; Even so our Author , when hee veiwes aright What time and industry have brought to light , May more be troubled both in M●…nd and Wit , ●…o thinke what 's donne , then in the doing it , If at the spring and Birth-day of Glendour , Whom storyes treat of for a Man and more , If then I say there was such notice taken , That VVales and all her Mountaniers were shaken , What Alteration must there needes be now , To usher in thine Issue ! who knowes how To fadom thought , or tye the starres in strings ? Such must his learning be that kens these things . Me-thinks the spheares should falter , and the sage Should from this time reckon another age , Gossips shall make it famous , It shall bee The common Meatpole to Posterity : The time of Edmonds and of Gertrude's birth , Was three yeares after such aworke came forth , Then was the great eclipse , and that the time When this Mans Granfather was in his prime ; Hackster the Back-sword-man then broke his Arme , That yeare old Honyman his Bees did swarme , And if I guesse aright , began that yeare The Hollanders Plantation in York-shire . Thus shall all Accidents be brought about , And this the onely time to find em out . Men did of old count from the dayes of Adam , And Eve the spinster ( no newes then of Madam , ) Some from Diana's Temple , that rare peece , Some from the stealing of the Golden fleece ; From moderne Matters som their Reckoning make From the great voyage of Sr : Francis Drake , Other 's from 88 , and some there are That count from bringing of the Brook from VVare . But all these things shall be abolish'd quite , And no Man now shall aprehend delight , To have a sonne a daughter or a neece , Their age not dated with this master-peece . More I would say , much more ; but that I fear My liberall commendations would appeare Like to the Gates of Thebes , where all , and some , Fear'd lest the citty should run out at 'um , Such may my error be , whilst here I sing , Great Neptunes Anthems , to salute a spring , Bùt such a spring , as all that ere have seene it Confesse there 's nought but spirit of waters in it . And here let me excuse that prity Elfe Thy froward Muse that left thee to thy selfe ; Whom thou upbraidst for that ; which I replye , Was nought but Advantagious Policy ; T' was a good Omen when she backward went That she would arme her selfe with double hint And so shee did , they 'l say , that doe peruse ore This seeming pamphlet which a●…onensues your Loving Friend . I. S. The Author to himselfe . HIgh as the Alpes my towring muse dos wing it , To snach the laurell from fames fane , & fling it Even at thy crowne , thy crowne ; where may it sit , Till time it selfe , being non-plus'd , wither it . Each stroake that herein of thy pen made proof , Is like the stamp of Pegasus his hoof , And does uncurtaine where does sit and sing , The Heliconians , round about the spring . I wish the world this pamphlet had not seene , Or having veiw'd it , it had faulty been . Then might I still have lov'd thee , cruell fate Has made the now the object of my hate : For envy feedes on merit , but believe mee , I love thy person , though thy worth does grieve me . I. S. The Preface to that most elaborate piece of Poetry , entituled , Penelope and Ulysses . NO , I protest , not that I wish the gaines To spoile the trade of mercenary braines , I am indifferently bent , so , so , Whether I ever sell my workes or no. Nor was 't my aime when I took pen in fingers , To take imployment from the Ballad-singers ; Nor none of th●…se : But on a gloomy day , My genius stept to me , and thus gan say ; Listen to me , I give you information , This History deserves a grave translation ; And if comparisons be free from slanders , I say , as well as Hero and Leanders . This said , I took my chaire , in colours wrought , Which at an outcry , with two stoo●…es I bought . The stooles of Dornix , which that you may know well Are certain stuffs , Upholsters use to s●…ll . Stuffs , said I ? No : some Linsey - Wolsey-monger mixt them , They were not Stuff nor Cloth sure , but betwixt them . The Ward 〈◊〉 bought them in , it was without High●… Faringdon , and there a greasie lout Bid for them shillings six , but I bid seven , A summe that is accounted odd , not ●…ven : The Cryer thereat seemed to be willing , Q●…oth he , there 's no man better then seven shilling , He thought it was a reasonable price , So struck upon the Table , once , twice , thrice , My pen in one hand , Pen-knife in the other , My Ink was good , my Paper was no other . So sat me down , being with sadnesse moved , To sing this new Song , sung of old by Ovid. But would you think , as I was thus preparing All in a readinesse , here and there staring To find my implements , that th' untoward Elfe , My Muse , should steal away , and hide her selfe , Just so it was , faith , neither worse nor better . A way she run , er'e I had writ a Letter . I after her a pace , and beat the Bushes , Rank Grasse , Firrs , Ferne , and the tall Banks of Rushes At last I found my M●…se , and wot you what , I put her up , for lo she was at squat . Thou sl●…t quoth I , hadst thou not run away , I had made Verses all th●…s live-long day . But in good sooth , o're much I d●…rst not chide her , Lest she should run away , and hide her But when my heat was o're I spake thus to her ; Why did'st thou play the wag ? I 'm very ●…ure . I have commended thee , above old Chaucer ; And in a Tavern once I had a Sawcer Of White-wine Vinegar , dasht in my face , For saying thou deservedst a better grace : Thou knowst that then I took a Sawsedge up , Upon the knaves face it gave such a clap , That he repented him that he had spoken Against thy Fame , he struck by the same token , I oft have sung thy Meeters , and sometimes , I laught to set on others at thy rimes , When that my Muse considered had this geare , She sigh'd so sore , it griev'd my heart to heare , She said she had done ill , and was not blameless , And Polyhym●…ey ( one that shal be namelesse , Was present when she spoke it ) and before her , My Muses lamentation was the soarer . And then to shew she was not quite unkinde , She sounded out these strong lines of her minde . THE INNOVATION OF Vlysses and Penelope . O All ye 1 Cliptick Spirits of the Sphaeres That have or 2 sense to hear or 3 use of eares , And you in number 4 twelve Caelestiall Signes That Poets have made use of in their lines , And by which men doe know what Seasons good To gueld their Bore-piggs , and let Horses blood ; List to my dolefull glee , ô 5 list I say , Unto the Complaint of Penelopay . She was a Lo●…er , I , and so was hee As loving unto her , and he to 6 she : But mark how things were al●…er'd in 〈◊〉 moment Ulysses was a Graecian born , I so meant To have inform'd you first ; but since 't is or'●… , It is as 7 well , as had it been before : He being as I said , a Greek there rose A Quarrell ' twi●…t the Trojans and their 8 foes , I mean the Graecians , whereof he was 9 one , But let that pass , he was La●…rtes Sonne . Yet least some of the difference be ig-norant , It was about a 1 Wench , you may hear more 2 on 't In Virgils Aeneids , and in Homer too ; How Paris lov'd her , and no more adoe But goes and steales her from her Husband : wherefore The Graecians took their Tooles , and fighted therefore . And that you may perceive they were stout 3 Signiors , The Combat lasted for the space of ten 4 years . This Gallant bideing where full many a Mother Is oft bereav'd of Child , Sister of Brothe , His Lady greatly longing for his presence 5 Writ him a Letter , whereof this the Sense . " My pretty Duck , my Pigsnie , my Ulysses , " Thy poor Penelope sends a 6 thousand Kisses " As to her only Ioy , a hearty greeting ; " Wishing thy Company , but not thy meeting " With enemies , and fiery Spirits in Armour , " And which perchance may do thy bedy harme-or " May take thee Pisoner , and clap on thee bolts " And locks upon thy legges , such as weare Colts . " But send me word , and e're that thou want r●…some " Being a man so comely , and so handsome , " Ile sell my Smocke both from my backe and 7 belly " E're you want Money , Meat , or Cloathes , I tell yee . When that Ulysses , all in grief enveloped , Had markt how right this Letter was Peneloped . Laid one hand on his heart , and said't was guilty , Resting the other on his Dagger-hilty , Thus gan to speake : O thou that dost controule All beauties else , thou hast so bang'd my soule With this thy lamentation , that I sweare , I love thee strangely , without wit or fear ; I could have wish'd ( quoth he , ) my selfe the Paper Inke , Standish , Sandbox , or the burning Taper , That were the Instruments of this thy writeing Or else the Stool whereon thou sat'st inditing : And so might have bin neer that lovely breech That never yet was troubled with the 8 Itch. And with the thought of that , his Sorrow doubled His heart with wo , was so Cuff'd and Cornubled , That he approv'd one of his Ladyes Verses , ( The which my Author in his booke rehearses ) 'T is true quoth he , 9 Loves troubles make me tamer , Res est Soliciti plena timoris Amor. This said , he blam'd himselfe , and chid his folly For being so ore-rul'd with melancholly , He call'd himself , Fool , Coxecombe , Asse , and Fop , And many ascurvy name he reckon'd up , But to himself , this language was too rough , For certainly the Man had wit enough : For he resolves to leave his Trojan foes , And go to see his Love in his best Cloaths . But marke how he was cross'd in his intent , His friends suspected him incontinent : And some of them suppos'd he was in love , Because his eyes all in his head did move , Or more or less then used , I know not which But I am sure they did not move so mich As they were wont to doe : and then 't was blasted . Ulysses was in love , and whilst that lasted No other newes within the Camp was spoke of , And many did suppose the Match was broke off , But he conceal'd himself , nor was o're hasty To shift his Cloaths , though now grown somewhat nasty . But having wash'd his hands in Pewter Bason , Determines for to get a Girle or a Son , On fair Penelope , for he look'd trimmer Then young Leander when he learn'd his 1 Primer , To Graece he wends apace , for all his hope Was only now to see faire Penelope : She kemb●d her head , and wash'd her face in Creame And pinch'd her cheeks to make the 2 redde bloud stream She don'd new cloaths , and sent the old ones packing , And had her shoes rub'd over with Lamp 3 blacking , Her new rebato , and a falling band , And Rings with severall poesies on her hand . A stomacher upon her breast so bare . For Strips and Gorgets was not then the weare . She thus adorn'd to meet her youthfull Lover Heard by a Post-boy , he was new come over : She then prepares a banquet very neat 4 Yet there was not a bit of Butchers meat But Pyes , and Capons , Rabbits , Larkes , and Fruit ; Orion on a Dolphin , with his 5 Harpe , And in the midst of all these dishes stood A platter of Pease-porridg , wondrous good , And next to that the god of Love was plac'd , His Image being made out of Rye-paste , To make that good , which the old Proverb speaks [ The one the Heart , 't other the belly breaks . ] Ulysses seeing himself a welcome Guest Resolves to have some Fidlers at the Feast : And 'mongst the various Consort choosing them That in their sleeves the armes of Agamem - Non , in the next verse , wore : Cry'd in a rage Sing me some Song made in the Iron-Age . The Iron-Age , quoth he that used to sing ? This to my mind the Black-Smith's Song doth bring The Black-Smiths , quoth Ulisses ? and there holloweth , Whoope ! is there such a Song ? Let 's ha 't . It followeth , The Black-Smith . As it was sung before Ulysses and Penelope at their Feast , when he returned from their Trojan Warrs , collected out of Homer , Virgill and Ovid , by some of the Modern Familie of the Fancies . OF all the trades that ever I see , There 's none with the Blacksmith compar'd may be , With so many severall tooles workes hee Which Nobody can deny , The first that ever thunderbolt made , Was a Cyclops of the Blacksmiths trade , As in a learned author is sayd , Which Nobody , &c. When Thunderingly we lay about The fire like lightening flasheth out ; Which suddainly with water wee d'out . Which No , &c. The fayrest Godesse in the skyes To marry with Vulcan did devise , Which was a Blacksmith grave and wise Which , &c. Mulciber to do her all right Did build her a Towne by day and by night , Which afterwards he Hammersmith hight Which , &c. And that no Enemy might wrong her Hee gave her Fort she need no stronger , Then is the lane of Ironmonger , Which , &c. Vulcan farther did acquaint her That a pritty estate he would appoynt her , And leave her Seacoale-lane for ajoynture . Which , &c Smithfeild he did free from dirt , And he had sure great reason for 't It stood very neare to * venus court Which , &c. But after in good time and tide , It was to the Blacksmiths rectifyed , And given'em by Edmond ●…rouside , Which , &c. At last * he made a Nett or traine , In which the God of warre was t'ane , Which ever since was call'd Pauls chaine Which , &c. The common proverb , as it is read , That we should hit the nayle o' the head : Without the Blacksmith cannot be said , Which , &c. There is another must not be forgot Which falls unto the Blacksmiths lot , That we should strike while the I'rons hott , Which , &c. A third lyes in the Blacksmiths way When things are safe as old-wives say , They have 'em under lock and key , Which , &c. Another proverb makes me laugh Because the Smith can challenge but halfe ; When things are as Plaine as a Pike staffe , Which , &c. But 't other halfe to him does belong ; And therefore , do the Smith no wrong , When one is held to it hard , buckle and thong , Which , &c. Then there is a whole one proper and fit And the Blacksmith's justice is seene in it , When you give a man rostmeat and beat him with spitt , Which , &c. Another proverb does seldome fayle , When you meet with naughty beere or ale , You cry it is as dead as a dore nayle , VVhich , &c. If you stick to one when fortunes wheele Doth make him many losses feele We say such a friend is as true as steele . VVhich &c. Ther 's one that 's in the Blacksmith's bookes , And from him alone for remedy lookes . And that is he that is offo'the hookes . Which , &c. Ther 's ner'a slutt , if filth over-smutch her But owes to the Blacksmith for her leatcher : For without a payre of tongs no man will touch her Which , &c. There is a lawe in merry England In which the Smith has some command When any one is burnt in the hand ; Which , &c. Banbury ale a halfe-yard-pott , The Devill a Tinker dares stand to 't ; If once the tost be hizzing-hott . Which , &c. If any Taylor has the Itch , Your Blacksmith's water , as black as pitch , Will make his fingers goe thorow-stitch . Which , &c. A Sullen-woman needs no leech , Your Blacksmiths Bellowes restores her speech And will fetch her againe with wind in her Breech . Which , &c. Your snuffling Puritans do surmise , That without the Blacksmiths mysteries , St : Peter had never gotten his keyes , VVhich every one can deny , And further more there are of those Tha●… without the Blacksmiths help do suppose St : Dunstan had never tane the Divel by the nose Which Nobody can deny . And though they are so rigid and nice And rayle against Drabs , and Drinke , and Dice Yet they do allowe the Blacksmith his vice Which , &c. Now when so many Haeresies fly about , And every sect growes still more in doubt The Blacksmith he is hammering it out , Which , &c. Though Serjeants at law grow richer far , And with long pleading a good cause can marr Yet your Blacksmith takes more pains at the Barr , Which , &c. And though he has no Commander's look Nor can brag of those he hath slayn and took , Yet he is as good as ever strooke . Which , &c. For though he does lay on many a blow It ruines neither freind nor foe ; Would our plundering-souldiers had don so , Which every one can deny . Though Bankrupts lye lurking in their holes And laugh at their Creditors , and catchpoles , Yet your Smith can fetch em over the coales . Wh●…ch Nobody can deny . Our lawes do punish severely still , Such as countersit , deed , bond , or bill , But your Smith may freely forge what he will Which , &c. To be a Jockey is thought a fine fear , As to trayne up a horse , and prescribe him his meat Yet your smith knowes best to give a heat . Which , &c. The Roreing-Boy who every one quayles And swagge●…s , & drinks , & sweares and rayles , Could never yet make the Smith eat his nayls . Which , &c. Then if to know him men did desire , They would not scorne him but ranck him higher For what he gets is out of the fire . Which . &c. Though Ulysses himselfe has gon many miles And in the warre has all the craft & the wiles , Yet your Smith can sooner double his files . Which , &c , Sayst thou so , quoth Ulysses , and then he did call For wine to drinke to the Black-Smiths all , And he vowed it should go round as a Ball VVhich Nobody should deny . And cause he had such pleasure t'ane , At this honest fidlers merry straine , He gave him the Horse-Shoe in Drury-lane Which Nobody can deny . Where his posterity ever since Are ready with wine , both Spanish & French , For those that can bring in another Clench Which Nobody can deny . The song being don they drank the health , they rose They wo'd in verse , and went to bed in prose . A Prologue to the Mayor of Quinborough . LOe I the Maior of Qu●…borough Town by name , With all my brethren saving one that 's lame ; Are come as fast as fyery mil-horse gallops , To meet thy grace , thy Queene , & her fair Trollops , For reason of our comming do no look , It must be don , I finde it i' th Town-book : And yet not I my selfe , I scorne to read , I keep a Clarck to do these jobbs at need . And now respect a rare conceipt before Thong castle see thee , Reach me the thing , to give the King , that other too , I prethee , Now here they be , for Queene and hee , the guist's all steele , and leather , But the conceit of mickle weight , and here they 're com together , To shew two loves must joyne in one , our Towne presents to thee , This gilded scabberd to the Queene , this dagger unto Thee . A Song . HEe that a happy life will lead , In these times of distraction , Let him list'n to me and I will him read A lecture without faction . Let him want three things whence misery springs , They all begin with a letter . Let him bound his desires to what nature requires , And with reason his humor fetter . Let not his wealth prodigious grow , For that breeds care and dangers ; Makes him envi'd above , and hated below , And a constant slave to strangers . They 're happiest of all whose estats are small Though but enough to maintain 'um They may do , they may say , having nothing to pay , It will not quit cost to arraigne u'm . Nor would I have him clogg'd with a wife , For househould care and cumber , Nor to one place confine a mans lise : Cause he cannot remove his lumber . They are happier farr that unwedded are , And forrage on all in common , For all stormes they may flye , & if they should dye They undo neither child nor woman . Nor let his braines overflow with witt , That savours on discretion ; 'T is costly to get and hard to keep And dangerous . in the possession . They are happyest men that can scarce tell ten , And beat not their braines about reason ; They may say what will serve , themselves to preserve , And their words are neare tak'n for treason . Of fools there is none like to the Witt For he takes paines to show it , When his pride and his drinke brings him into his fit ; Then straight he must be a poet Now his jests he flings at States and at Kings For applause of bayes and shaddowes ; Thinkes a verse serves as well , as circle or spell Till he rhimes himselfe to the Barbadoes . He that within his bounds will keep , May baffle all dysasters ; To fortune and fate commands he may give Which worldling●… call their masters ; He may dance , he may laugh , he may sing , he may quaffe , May be mad , may be sad may be jolly , He may walk without fear , and sleep without care , And a fig for the world and its folly . The drunken Lover . J. D. Delight . I Dore , I dote , but am a sott to show 't , I was a very fool to let her know 't ; For now she doth so cuning grow , She proves a freind worse then a foe : She will not hold me fast nor let me goe , She tells me , I cannot forsake her ; Then straight I endeavor to leave her , But to make me stay throw's a kisse in my way , Oh then I could tarry for ever . Then I retire , salute , and sit down by her , There do I five in frost , and freeze in fire , New Nectar from her lipps I sup . And though I do not drink all up ; Yet am I drunk with kissing of the cup : For her lipps are two brimmers of Clarret , Where first I begin to miscarry : Her brests of delight , are two bottles of white , And her eyes are two cups of Canary . Drunk as I live , dead drunk beyond reprieve For all my secrets dribble through a sive , Her arme about my neck she laith , Now all is Scripture that she saith Which I lay hold on , with my fuddled faith , I find a fond lover's a drunkard ; And dangerous is when he flyes out , With hipps and with lipps , with black eyes and white thighes , Blind Cupid sure tippled his eyes out . She bids me , Arise , tells me I must be wise , Like her , for she is not in love she cryes ; Then do I fret and fling and throw , Shall I be fettered to my foe ? Then I begin to run but cannot goe I pray thee , sweet , use me more kindly . You had better for to hold me fast , If you once disengage your bird from his cage , Beleeve me hee 'le leave you at last . Lik a sot I sit that fild the towne with witt , But now confesse I have most need of it ; I have been drunk with duck and deare , A bove aquarter of a yeare : Beyond the cure of sleeping or small beere , think I can number the months to , Iuly , August , September , October Thus goes my account a mischeife upon 't But sure I shall goe when I am sober . My legs are lame , my courage is quite tam'de , My heart and all my body is inflamde ; Now by experience I can prove . And sweare by all the powers above ; T is better to be drunk with wine then love . Good sack makes us merry and witty , Our faces with jwells adorning ; And though that we grope yet , there is some hope , That a man may be sober next morning . Then with command she throwes me from her hand , She bids me goe yet knowes I cannot stand ; I measure all the ground by tripps , Was ever Sot so drunk in sipps , Or ever man so over seene in lipps , I pray , maddam fickle , be faithfull , And leave off your damnable dodging , Pray do not deceive me , either love me or leave me , And let me go home to my lodging . I love too much but yet my sollie's such I cannot leave , I must love to ' ther touch . Here 's a Health unto the King , how now ? I am drunk and speak treason I vow ; Lovers and fooles say any thing you know , I feare I have tyred your patience , But I am sure , t is I have the wrong on 't , My wit is bereft me ; for all that I have left me Will but just serve to make me a song on 't , My mistris and I shall never comply , And there is the short and the long on 't . To the Tune of The beginning of the World. R. P. Delight . O Mother , chave bin a batchelour , This twelve and twanty yeare ; And I 'ze have often beene a wowing , And yet c ham never the neare : Ione Gromball chee'l ha' non s' mee , I ze look so like a lowt ; But I vaith , c ham as propper a man as zhe . Zhee need not be zo stout . She zaies ifize , cond daunce and zing , As Thomas Miller con , Or cut a cauper , as litle Iack Taylor : O how chee'd love mee thon . But zoft and faire , I hil none of that , I vaith cham not zo nimble ; The Tailor hath nought to trouble his thought But his needel and his thimble , O zon , th' art of a lawfull age , And a jolly tidy boy , I de have thee try her once a gaine , She can but say thee nay : Then O Gramarcy mother , I hill zet a good vace o' the matter , I hill dresse up my zon as fine as a dog And I hill have a fresh bout at her . And first I hill put on my zunday parrell That 's lac't about the quarters ; With a paire of buckram slopps , And a vlanting paire of garters . With my sword tide vast to my zide , And my grandvathers dug'en and dagger And a Peacocks veather in my capp Then oh how I' ch shall swagger . Nay tak thee a lockrum napkin son , To wipe thy snotty nose , T 's noe matter vor that , I hill snort it out , And vlurt it athart my cloths : Ods , bodikins nay fy away , I prethee son do not so : Be mannerly son till thou canst tell , Whether shee le ha' thee or noe , But zirrah Mother harke a while Whoe 's that that comes so near ? T is Ione Grumball , hold thy peace , For feare that she doe heare . Nay on 't be she , I hill dresse my words In zuch a scholards grace , But virst of all chall take my honds , And lay them athwart her vace . Good morrow my honey my sugger-candy , My litle pretty mouse , Cha hopes thy vather and mother be well , At home at thine own house . I' ch am zhame vac't to show my mind , C ham zure thou knowst my arrant : Zum zen , Jug , that I mun a thee . At leasure Sir I warrant . You must ( Sir Clowne ) is for the King , And not for such a mome , You might have said , by leave faire maid . And let your ( must ) alone . Ich am noe more nor clowne thats vlat , Cham in my zunday parrell , I' ch came vor love and I pray so tak 't , Che hopes che will not quarrell . O Robbin dost thou love me so well ? I vaith , abommination , Why then you should have fram'd your words Into a finer fashion . Vine vashions and vine speeches too As schollards volks con utter , Chad wrather speak but twa words plaine Thon haulfe a score and stutter . Chave land , chave houss , chave twa va●… beasts , That 's better thon vine speeches ; T 's a signe that Fortune favours fooles She lets them have such riches . Hark how she comes upon mee now , I 'd wish it be a good zine , He that will steale any wit from thee Had need to rise betime . An Old Song . BAck and sides go bare go bare , And feet and hands go cold , But let my belly have Ale enough Whether it be new or old , Whether it be new or old , Boyes , whether it be new or old : But let my belly have ale enough , Whether it be new or old , A beggar 's a thing as good as a King , If you aske me the reason why For a King cannot swagger And drink like a beggar No King so happy as I : Some call me knave and rascall slave , But I know , how to collogue Come upon Um , and upon 'um ; Will your worships and honour um , Then I am an honest rogue , then I Come upon um , and upon 'um will you worships : If a sart fiye away where he makes his stay , Can any man think or suppose ? For a fart cannot tell , when it s out where to dwell , Unlesse it be in your nose , unlesse it be in your nose boyes , Unlesse it be in your nose . For a fart cannot tell , when it s out where to dwell Unlesse it be in your nose . The Sowgelder's Song , in the Beggers-Bush . I Met with the Divell in the shape of a Ramme , Over and over the Sow-gelder came , I took him and haltred him fast by the horne , And pickt out his stones as you 'd pick out your cornes . Oh quoth the Divell and with that he shrunk , And left me a carkase of mutton that stunk . Walking alone but a mile and a halfe , I saw where he lay in the shape of a calfe ; I took him and gelt him e're he thought any evill , And found him to be but a sucking Divell . Bla quoth the Divell and clapt down his taile , And that was sold after for excellent veale . I met with the Divell in the shape of a Pigge , I look't at the rogue , and he look't something bigge ; E're a man cold fart thrice , I had made him a hogge , Oh quoth the Divell and then gave a Jerke That the Jew was converted by eating of porke . In woman's attire I met him full fine , I took him at least for an Angell divine ; But viewing his crabb-face I fell to my trade , And I made him forsweare ever acting a maid . O quoth the Divell , and so ranne away , And hid him in a Fryers gray weeds , as they say . For halfe a yeare after it was my great chance To meet with a gray coate that lay in a Trance , I took him and I graspt him fast by the codds ; Betwixt his tongue and his taile I left little odds . Oh , quoth the Divell , much harme hast thou done , Thou art sure to be cursed of many a man. My ram , calfe , my porke , my punk and my fryar , I have left them unfurnish't of their best Lady ware ; And now he runs roaring from alehouse to Taverne , And sweares hee 'le turn tutor to the swaggering gallant : But if I catch him I le serve him no worse For Ile lib him , and leave him not a peny in his purse . A Song . Three merry ladds met at the Rose To speak the praises of the Nose , The nose which stands in middle place Sets out the beauty of the face ; The nose with which we have begunne , Will serve to make our verses runne , Invention often barren growes ; But still their 's matter in the nose . The nose is of so high a price , That men prefer 't before their eyes ; And no man counts him for his friend , That boldly takes his nose by the end . The nose that like Euripus flows , The sea that did the wiseman pose . Invention , &c. The nose is of as many kinds , As mariners can reckon winds , The long , the short , the nose displayd ; The great nose which did fright the maid ; The nose through which the brother-hood Did parley for their sisters good . Invention , &c. The slat , the sharp , the roman snout , The hawkes nose Circled round about : The crooked nose that stands awry , The ruby nose of Scarlet dye , The Brazen-nose without a face That doth the learned Colledge grace ; Invention , &c. The long nose when the teeth appeare , Shews what 's a clock if the day be clear , The broad nose stands in buckler place , And takes the blowes from off the face ; The nose being plaine without a ridge , Will serve sometimes to make a bridge . Invention , &c. The short nose is the Lovers blisse , Because it hinders not a kisse . The toating nose is a monstrous thing , That 's he that did the bottle bring : And he that brought th●…●…ttle hither , Will drink ; oh monstrous ! out of measure . Invention , &c. The fiery nose , in Lanthornes stead , Will light its Master to his bed ; And who so ere that treasure owes , Growes poore in purse , though rich in nose . The brazen nose that 's o're the gate , Maintaines full many a Latin-pate . Invention , &c. If any nose take this in snuffe , And think it more then is enough ; We answer them , we did not fear , Nor think such noses had been here . But if there be , we need not care ; A nose of wax our Statutes are . Invention now is barren growne ; The matters out , the nose is blown . Phillada flouts me . Oh! what a pain is love , How shall I bear it ? Shee will inconstant prove , I greatly feare it . Shee so torments my mind , That my strength faileth ; And wavers with the wind , As a shippe that saileth . Please her the best I ●…y , Shee looks another way . A lack and well a day Phillada floutes me . All the fair yesterday , She did passe by me ; She look't another way , And would not spye me . I woo'd her for to dine , But could not get her . VVill had her to the wine , Hee might intreat her . With Daniel she did dance , On me she look't a sconce . Oh thrice unhappy chance , Phillada floutes me . Faire Maid , be not so coy , Doe not disdaine me : I am my mothers joy Sweet entertain me . Shee 'l give me when she dyes , All that is fitting , Her Poultrey and her Bees And her Geese sitting . A paire of mattrisse bedds , And a bagge full of shredds . And yet for all this goods , Phillada floutes me . She hath a cloute of mine Wrought with good Coventry , Which she keeps for a signe Of my fidelitie . But i'faith , if she flinch , She shall not weare it . To Tibb my tother wench I mean to beare it . And yet it grieves my heart , So soon from her to part . Death strikes me with his dart , Phillada floutes me . Thou shallt eate Curds & Cream , All the year lasting ; And drink the Christall stream , Pleasant in tasting ; Wigge and whay whilst thou burst , And ramble berry ; Pye-lid and pasty crust , Pears , Plums , and Cherrey . Thy raiment shal be thin , Made of a weavers skin , Yet all 's not worth a pinne , Phillada floutes me . Fair maidens , have a care , And in time take me : I can have those as fair , If you forsake me . For Doll the dairy-maide , Laught on me lately , And wanton VVinifrid Favours me greatly . One throws milk on my clothes , T'other playes with my nose ; What wanton signes are those ? Phillada flouts me . I cannot work and sleep All at a season ; Love wounds my heart so deep , Without all reason . I'gin to pine a way , With greife and sorrow , Like to a fatted beast , Pen'd in a meadow . I shall be dead I fear , With in this thousand yeare ; And all for very feare . Phillada flouts me . The Milk-maids . WAlkeing betimes close by a green wood side , Hy tranonny , nonny with hy tranonny no ; A payre of lovely milk maides there by chance I spide With hy tranonny nonny no , with tranonny no , One of them was faire As fair as fair might bee ; The other she was browne , With wanton rowling eye . Syder to make sillibubbs , They carryed in their pailes ; And suggar in their purses , Hung dangling at their tailes . Wa●…-coats of flannell , And petty-coats ofredd . Before them milk white aporns , And straw-hats on their heads , Silke poynts , with silver taggs , A bout their wrists were shown ; And jett-Rings , with poesies Yours more then his owne . And to requite their lovers poynts and rings , They gave their lovers bracelets , And many pretty things . And there they did get gownes All on the grasse so green , But the taylor was not skilfull , For the stitches they were seen . Thus having spent the long summers day , They took their nut browne milk pailes , And so they came away . Well fare you merry milk maids That dable in the dew For you have kisses plenty , When Ladyes have but few . The old Ballet of shepheard Tom. AS I late wandred over a Plaine , Upon a hill piping I spide a shephards swaine : His slops were of green , his coat was of gray , And on his head a wreath of willow & of bay . He sigh'd and he pip't , His eyes he often wip't , He curst and ban'd the boy , That first brought his annoy : Who with the fire of desire , so inflam'd his minde , To doate upon a lasse ; so various & unkinde . Then howling , he threw his whistle a way , And beat his heeles agen the ground whereon he lay . He swore & he star'dhe was quite bereft of hope , And out of his scrip he pulled a rope : Quoth he , the man that wooes , With me prepare his noose ; For rather then I 'le fry , By hemp I le choose to dy . Then up he rose , & he goes streight unto a tree , Where he thus complaines of his lasses cruelty , A pox upon the divell , that ever t was my lot , To set my love upon so wooddish a trot . Had not I been better took Ione of the mill , Kate of the creame house , or bony bouncing Nell : A Proud word I speak I had them at my beck ; And they on holydayes Would give me prick and praise . But Phillis she was to me dearer then my eyes , For whom I now indure these plaguy miseryes . Oft have I woo'd her with many a teare , With ribband for her head tire , and laces from the fayre , With bone-lace and with shoone , with bracelets and with pinns , And many a toy besides : good god forgive my sinns . And yet this plaguy flirt Would ding them in the dirte And smile to see mee tear , The locks from of my haire . To scratch my chops , rend my slops , & at wakes to sit Like to a sot bereft both of reason sense and witt . Therefore from this bough Tom bids a dew To the shepherds of the valley , and all the joviall crew . Farewell Thump , my ram , and Cut my bobtaild curre , Behold your Mr , proves his owne murtherer . Goe to my Philis , goe , Tell her this tale of woe . Tell her where she may finde Me tottering in the winde . Say on a tree she may see her Tom rid from all care , Where she may take him napping as Mosse took his Mare . His Philis by chance stood close in a bush , And as the Clowne did sprawle , she streight to him did rush . She cut in two the rope and thus to him she said , Dispairing Tom , my Tom , thou hast undone a maid . Then as one amaz'd . Upon her face he gaz'd ; And in this wofull case , She kist his pallid face , He whoopt amaine , swore , no swaine ever more should be , Soe happy in his love , nor halfe so sweet as she , Obsequies . DRaw not so near Unlesse you shed a tear On the stone , Where I grone , And will weepe , Untill eternall sleepe Hath charm'd my weary eyes . Flora lyes here , Embalm'd with many a teare , Which the swaines , From the plaines , Here have paid , And many a vestall Maid Hath mourn'd her obsequies : Their snowy brests they tear , And rend their golden hayre ; Casting cryes . To Celestiall deityes , To returne Her beauty from the urne , To raigne Unparallel on earth againe . When strait a sound , From the ground , Peircing the aire , Cryes , shee 's dead , Her soule is fled , Unto a place more rare . You spirits that doe keep The dust of those that sleep , Under the ground , Heare the sound Of a swaine , That folds his armes in vain , Unto the ashes he adores . For pity doe not fright Him wandring in the night : Whilst he laves Virgins graves With his eyes , Unto their memoryes , Contributing sad showers . And when my name is read , In the number of the dead , Some one may , In Charity repay My sad soul , The tribute which she gave , And howle Some requiem on my grave . Then weep noe more Greife willnot restore Her freed from care . Though she be dead , Her soule is fled Unto a place more rare . Of a Taylor and a Lowse . A Lowse without leave a Taylor did molest , The Taylor was forc'd the lowse to arrest ; The Taylor of curtesie the lowse did release , But she bi tt the harder and stil broke the peace . In this doubtfull matter , your counsell I crave , What law of the lowse the Taylor may have , A jury of beggers debating the cause , Decree'd in their verdict that lyce should have lawes , And therefore they say without further reciting That lyce must be subject to the law of bacbiting . Which law doth provide for the party so greived The low●…e so offending not to be repreived . But straight to be taken and had to the jayle , And after to suffer the crush of the nayle . The old Ballad of Little Musgrave and the Lady Barnard . AS it fell one holy-day , hay downe , As many be in the yeare , When young men and maids Together did goe , Their Mattins and Masse to heare , Little Musgrave came to the church dore , The Preist was at private Masse But he had more minde of the faire women ; Then he had of our lady grace The one of them was clad in green Another was clad in pale , And then came in my lord Bernards wife The fairest amonst them all ; She cast an eye on little Musgrave As bright as the summer sun , And then bethought this little Musgrave This lady's heart have I woonn . Quoth she I have loved thee little Musgrave Full long and many a day , So have I loved you fair Lady , Yet never word durst I say . I have a bower at Buckelsfordbery Full daintyly it is geight . If thou wilt wed thither thou little Musgrave Thou's lig in mine armes all night . Quoth he , I thank yee faire lady This kindnes thou showest to me , But whether it be to my weal or woe This night I will lig with thee . With that he heard a little tyne page By his ladyes coach as he ran , All though I am my ladyes foot page Yet I am lord Barnards man My lord Barnard shall knowe of this Whether I sink or sinn ; And ever where the bridges were broake He laid him downe to swimme . A sleepe or wake thou Lord Barnard , As thou a●…t a man of life For little Musgrave is at Bucklesfordbery : A bed with thy own wedded wife . If this be true thou little tinny Page , This thing thou tellest to mee , Then all the land in Bucklesfordbery I freely will give to thee . But if it be a ly , thou little tinny Page , This thing thou tellest to me ; On the hyest tree in Bucklesfordbery Then hanged shalt thou be . He called up his merry men all Come sadle me my steed , This nigh●… must I to Buckellsfordbery , For I never had greater need . And some of them whistl'd & some of them sung , And some these words did say ; And ever when my lord Barnards horn blew , A way Musgrave a way . Me-thinks I hear the Thresel-cock , Me-thinks I hear the Jaye , Me-thinks I hear my Lord Barnard , And I would I were away . Lye still , lye still , thou little Musgrave And huggell me from the cold , T is nothing but a shephards boy , A driving his sheep to the fold . Is not thy hawke upon a perch ? Thy steed eats oats and hay ; And thou fair Lady in thine armes , And wouldst thou bee away ? With that my lord Barnard came to the dore And lit a stone upon He plucked out three silver keys , And he open'd the dores each one . He lifted up the coverlett , He lifted up the sheet , How now , how now , thou littell Musgrave Doest thou find my lady sweet ? I find her sweet , quoth little Musgrave The more 't is to my paine , I would gladly give three hundred pounds That I were on yonder plaine . Arise arise thou littell Musgrave , And put thy ●…loth-es on , It shal ne●…re be said in my country I have killed a naked man. I have two Swords in one scabberd , Full deere they cost my purse : And thou shalt have the best of them And I will have the worse . The first stroke that little Musgrave stroke , He hurt Lord Barnard sore The next stroke that Lord Barnard stroke Little Musgrave ne're struck more . With that bespake this faire lady , In bed whereas she lay , Although thou' rt dead thou little Musgrave , Yet I for thee will pray , And wish well to thy soule will I So long as I have life , So will I not for thee Barnard Although I am thy wedded wife . He cut her paps from off her brest , Great pitty it was to see , That some drops of this ladies heart's blood Ran trickling downe her knee . Woe worth you , woe worth , my mery men all , You were ne're borne for my good : Why did you not offer to stay my hand , When you see me wax so wood . For I have slaine the bravest Sir Knight That ever rode on steed , So have I done the fairest lady That ever did womans deed . A grave , a grave , Lord Barnard cryd To put these lovers in : But lay my lady on upper hand For she came of the better kin . The Scots arrears . FOwre hundred thousand pounds A lusty bag indeed ▪ Was 't ever knowne so vast a sum Ere past the river Tw●…de ? Grea●… pitty it is , I swear , Whole carts was thither sent , Where hardly two in fifty knew , What forty shillings meant : But 't was to some perceiv'd , Three kingdomes were undone . And those that sit heere thought it fitt , To settle them one by one , Now Ireland hath no haste , So there thei le not begin ; The Scottish ayde must first be pai'd , For ye came freely in , And William Lilly writes — Who writes the truth you know ; In frosty weather they marched hither . Up to the chins in snow . Free quarter at excesse , They do not weigh a feather , Those Crowns for coals brought in by shoals ; Scarce kept their men together , Of plunder they esteeme As trifles of no worth , Of force ye dote because recruite Issued no faster forth . If once this cash is paid I hope the Scot be spedd , He need not steale but fairly deal Both to be cloth'd and fedd . Our sheep and oxen may Safe in their pastures stand , What need they filch the cow That 's milch to sojourne in their land . I wonder much the Scot With this defiles his hands , Because the summ's a price of Rome Rays'd out of the Bishops lands , But too too wel ye know To what intent they in came T was not their paines produc'd this gaines T was sent to packe them home , Mee thinks I heare them laugh To see how matters proved , And give ashout it so fell out , Ye were more fear'd then loved , 〈◊〉 ●…key after this ●…nge hath forgott 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 fires hee much retires 〈◊〉 shows himselfe no Scott . Rebellis SCOTUS . CUrae Deo sumus , ista si cedant Scoto ? Variat●… spleniis ●…omina Ps●…che ●…st suis. Aut stell●… yea . 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 , Campanu●…ae omn●…s ; totus Ucalegon suo , Coriaceae cui millies mille hydriae , Suburbicants pensiles par●…ciis Non sint refrigerio . Poeticus furor , Cometâ non min●…s , vel ore flammeo Commune despuente fatum stellulâ , Dirum ominatur . Ecquis , è Stoâ , suam Iam temperet bilem ? patria quando ●…ue Tam Pym●…ianâ , id est pediculosâ , perit ? Bombamachidisque fit bolus myrmeciis ? Scotos nec ausim nominare , carminum Nisi inter amuleta , nec meditarier Nisi c●…ebello , quod capillitio rubens ( Quale ●…umo coluberrimum ●…uriis caput ) Quot inde verba , tot v●…nena promp●…erit . Rhadamantbe●… , fac , gutt●…r esset nu●…c mihi , Sulphurque , patibul●…mque copiosius Ructans , Magus qu●… c●…nias b●…nbycinas ; Poteram ut Agyr●…●…or , pill●…as Vomicas loqui , 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 ●…yga : Aut ut Gen●…vae Sie●… , Pe●…ers Tartara , 〈◊〉 equ●…leos boare pulpitis : At mchinan●… p●…r f●…rem nunquam Scoto , Cun●…is Scl●…tis hi●… gutturalibus . Ut dig●… D●…i du●…nt , vorem par est pri●…s , ( P●…giator u●… ) sicas , & acinaces . Is●… , h●…c , I ambe , gressibus faxo tuis At huc , ●…ambe , mo●…sibus faxo magis . Satyr●…que tortri●… , tot huc adducite Flagella , qu●…t pr●…sens mere●…ur seculum Scoti ●…enfieis pares ; audax s●…ylum Hor●…re tinge , sic nocent minus . Vt Martyres olim induebant belluis . ( Quasi sisterent Regis sacros hypocritas ) En hos eodem Sch●…mate ( at retro ) Scotos , Extrà Scotos , intus feras , & sine tropo . Fallax Ierna viperae nihil foves Scoto Colono ? Non ego Britanniam . Lupis carentem dix●…rim , vivo Scoto . Quin Thamesinus pyrgopolinices Scotus Poterat leones , tigrides , ursos , cane●… Proprii inquilinos pectoris spectaculo Monstr●…sse ; pro obolis omnibus quibus solet Spectare monstra Cratis , & Fori simul Poene ocreatum vulgus . Et patria fera Scotos eremus indicat terrae plag●… Vel omnipraesentem negans Deum , nisi Venisset inde Carolus , cohors nisi C●…afordiana , miles & Montro●…s , Feritatis eluens notam pagan●… , Hanc pr●…sset semivictimam Deo ; Nec Scoticus est , totus L●…pardus , Leo ; Habent & Ara●… sicut Arcam f●…deris Velut tabellae bifi●…is pictae plicis Fert Angelos pars haec , & haec Cacodaemonas : Cui somnianti tartarum su●… pavor Sic poenitere , viderat regnum velim Nigrius Scotorum semel , & esset innocens . Regio , malignâ quae facit votum prece , Relegetur ad Gyares breves nunquam incola ! Pun●…sset ubi Cainum nec exilio Deus , Sed , ut ille trechedipnum , magis Domicaenio . Vt gens vagans recutita , vel contagium , Aut Beclzebub , si des ubiquitarium . Hinc crro fit semper Scotus , cer●…os locos , Et hos & illos quoslihet cito nauseans , Vt frusta divisi orbis , & Topograp●…iae Mend●…citatis offulas , curt●…s nimis . Ipse universitatis haeres integrae , Et totus in toto , natio Epidemica , Nec gliscit ergo jargonre Gallicè , Exoticis aut Indicis modis , neque Iberio nutu negare , nec studet Callere quem de Belgicis Hoghen moghen Venter tumens , aut barba canthari refert . ( Quae Coriatis una mens nostratibus ) Pugna est in eni●…o , atque animus in patinâ Scoto . Huic Struthioni sugger●…t cibum chalybs , Et denti-ductor appetitus , baltheo , Pro more , pendulos molares inserit . At interim nostras quid involant dapes ? Serpens Edenum , non Edenb●…rgum appetit . Aut Angliae , cui jam malum est Hemorrhois , Haematopotas h●…s posteris meatibus Natura medica supposuit hirudines Cruore satiandos licèt nostro priùs , Nostro sed & cruore moribundos quoque . Nec computo credant priori , nos item Novum addituros , servitutem pristinae Aliam , gemellam nuperae , fraterculos Palpare quando caeperant charos nimis , ( Suff●…agiorum scilicet poppysmata ) Et crustulum impertire velut ●…ffam Cerbero Subblandiens decreverat Senatulus . Nos aera locu●…s arma visc eribus priùs Indemus usque & usque vel capulo tenus . Seri videmus quo Scotum tractes modo . Princeps rebelli mitior tergo quasi Sellas equino detrahen●… aptat suo . At jus rapinas hasce defendit vetus ? Egyptus ista perdit , aufert Israel An bibliorum nescis hos satellites ? Praetorianis queis cohortibus , Hier●…salem triariis ) spes nititur novae Sororcularum ? Cardo , cardo vertitur Cupediarum , primitivae legis , &c. O bone Deus ! quanti est carere linte is ! Orexis ut Borealis , & fames , movet ! Vi●…uque , vestibusque cassi , hinc Knoxio Su●…ore simul , & Knoxio utuntur coquo , Piè quod algeant , quod esurian●… piè . Larvas quin usque detrahas , & nummulis Titulisque , ( ut animabus ) su●…est fallacia . Librae , & Barones ( detumescant interim Uocabulorum tympani ) quanti valent ! Hic Cantianum paene , paene villicum , Solidosque totos illa , sed gratis , duos . Apagè superbae fraudulentiae , simul Prosapiâ pictos , fide & pictos procul : Opprobrium poetico vel stigmati Etiam cruci crux . Non aliter Hyperbolus Hyperscelestus ostracismo sit pudor . Americanus , ille , qui coelum horruit Quod Hispanorum repat eò sed pars quota ! Videra●… in Orco si Scotos , ( hui tot Scotos ! ) Roterodamus pependerat medioximus . Sat musa ! semissa fercularia Medullitùs v●…rans , diabolis invides Propriam sibi suam Scoti paropsidem . Vt Berniclis enim Scoti , sic Lucifer Saturatur ipsis Berniclatioribus . Nam lapsus à furcâ Scotus , mox & Styge Tinctus , suum novatur in Plaut-Anserem . FINIS . The Rebell SCOT . HOw ! Providence ! and yet a Scottish crew ! Then Madam Nature wears black patches too ? What shall our Nation be in bondage thus Unto a Land that truckles under us ? Ring the bells backward , I am all on fire , Not all the buckets in a Country Quire Shall quench my rage . A Poet should be fear'd , When angry , like a Comet 's flaming beard . And where 's the Stoick , can his wrath appease To see his Countrey sick of Pym's disease ? By Scotch-invasion , to be made a prey To such Pig-widgin Myrmidons as they ? But that there 's charm in verse , I would not quo●… The name of Scot without an antidote ; Unlesse my head were red , that I might brew Invention there that might be poyson too . Were I a drowsie Judge , whose dismal note Disgorgeth halters as a Juglers throat Doth ribbands : could I ( in Sir Emp'rick tone ) Speak Pills in phrase , and quack destruction : Or roar like Marshall , that Genevah Bull , Hell and damnation a Pulpit full : Yet to expresse a Scot , to play that prize , Not all those mouth-Granadoes can suffice . Before a Scot can properly be curst , I must ( like Hocus ) swallow daggers first . Come , keen Iambicks , with your badgers feet , And Badger-like , bite till your feet do meet Help , ye tarc Satyrists , to imp my rage , With all the Scorpions that should whip this age , Scots are like Witches ; do but whet your pen ; Scratch till the bloud come , they 'l not hurt you then . Now as the Martyrs were inforc'd to take The shapes of beasts , like hypocrires at stake ; I 'le bait my Scot so , yet not cheat your eyes , A Scot , within a beast , is no disguise . No more let Ireland brag , her harmlesse Nation Fosters no Venom , since the Scot's plantation ; Nor can our feign'd antiquity maintain ; Since they came in , England hath Wolves again , The Scot that kept the Tower , might have showne ( Within the grate of his own breast alone ) 〈◊〉 Leopard and the Panther , and ingrost ●…t all those wild Collegiats had cost : 〈◊〉 honest high-shooes , in their termly fees , 〈◊〉 to the salvage Lawyer , next to these . Na●…re her selfe doth Scotch-men beasts confesse , Making their Countrey such a wildernesse , A L●…nd that brings in question and suspense Gods omni-presence , but that Charles came thence , But that Montrosse and Crawfords loyal band Atton'd their sins , and christ'ned half the Land ; Nor is it all the Nation hath these spots ; There is a Church , as well as Kirk of Scots : As in a picture , where the squinting paint Shews fiend on this side , and on that side saint : He that saw Hell in 's melancholy dream And in the twi-light of his fancy's theam , Scar'd from his sins , repented in a fright , Had he view'd Scotland , had turn'd Proselyte . A Land , where one may pray with curst intent , O may they never suffer banishment ! Had Cain been Scot , God would have chang'd his doom , Not fore't him wander , but confin'd him home . Like Jews they spread , and as infection fly , As if the devil had Ubiquity . Hence'tis they live at Rovers , and desie This or that place , rags of Geography . They 're Citizens ot'h ' world ; they 're all in all , Scotland's a Nation Epidemical . And yet they ramble not , to learn the mode How to be drest , or how to lisp abroad ; To return knowing in the Spanish shrug . Or which of the Dutch-States a double Jug Resembles most , in belly , or in beard . ( The Card by which the Marriners are steer'd . ) No ; the Scots-Errant sight , and sight to eat ; Their Ess●…rich-stomacks make their swords their meat Nature with Scots , as Tooth-drawers hath dealt , Who use to hang their teeth upon their belt . Yet wonder not at this their happy choice ; The Serpent's fatal still to Paradise . Sure England hath the Hemeroids , and these On the North-posture of the patient seize , Like Leeches , thus they physically thirst After our bloud , but in the cure shall burst . Let them not think to make us run o' th score , To purchase villenage as once before , When an Act pass'd to stroak them on the head , Call them good Subjects , buy them Ginger-bread . Nor Gold , nor Acts of grace , 't is Steel must tame The stubborn Scot : a Prince that would reclaim Rebels by yeilding , doth like him , ( or worse ) Who sadled his own back , to shame his horse . Was it for this you left your leaner soil , Thus to lard Israel with Aegypts spoyl ? They are he Gospels Life-guard , but for them ( The Garrison of new I●…rusalem ) Wha●… would the Brethren do'the cause ! the cause ! Sack possets , and the fundamental Lawes ! Lord ! what a goodly thing is want of shirts ! How a Scotch-stomack , and no meat , converts ! They wanted food and rayment ; so they took Religion for their Seamstresse , and their Cook. Unmask them well ; their honours and estate As well as conscience are sophisticate . Shrive but their titles , and their money poize , A Laird and twenty pounds pronounc'd with noise , When constru'd , but for a plain Yeoman go , And a good sober Two-pence , and well so . Hence then , you proud Impostors , get you gone , You Picts in Gentry and devotion ; You scandal to the stock of Verse , a race Able to bring the Gibbet in disgrace . Hyperbolus by suffering did traduce The Ostracism , and sham'd it out of use , The Indian , that heaven did ●…orsweare , Because he heard the Spaniards were there , Had he but known what Scots in hell had been , He would Erasmus-like have hung between : My Muse hath done . A Voider for the nonce ; I wrong the devil , should I pick their bones . That dish is his ; for when the Scots decease , Hell , like their Nation , feeds on Barnacles , A Scot , when from the Gallow-tree got loose , Drops into S●…yx , and turns a Soland-Goose . The End. Notes, typically marginal, from the original text Notes for div A52015-e120 a There began the Utopian accompt of years , Mor : Lib. 1. circa finem . b Endimion was a handsome young Welshman , whom one Luce Moone lov'd for his sweet breath ; and would never hang off his lips : but he not caring for her , eat a bundance of toasted cheese , purposely to make his breath unsavory ; upon which , the lest him presently , and ever since 't is proverbially spoken [ as inconstant as Luce Moone . ] The Uatican coppy of Hesiod , reades her name , Mohun , but contractedly it is Moone . Hesiod . lib. 4. tom . 3. c For all the Orbes make Musick in their motion , Berosus de sphaera . lib. 3. d Atlas was a Porter in Mauritania , and because by reason of his strength , he bore burthens of stupendious weight , the Poëts sain'd , that he carried the Heavens on his shoulders . Cicero . de nat . Deorum . lib. 7. e There were two others of these names , Aldermen of Rome . Tit. Liu. hist. lib. 28. f AEmathia , is a very faire Common in Northamptonshire , Strabo . lib. 321. g These Myrmidons were Cornish-men , and sent by Bladud , sometimes King of this Realme , to ayd Pompey . Caesar de bello . civili . lib. 14. g These Myrmidons were Cornish-men , and sent by Bladud , sometimes King of this Realme , to ayd Pompey . Caesar de bello . civili . lib. 14. h It seemes not to be meant by Count Henry , but his brother Maurice , by comparing his picture to the thing here spoken of . Iansen , de praed . lib. 22. i Pheander was so modest , that he was called the Maiden Knight ; and yet so valiant , that a ●…rench Cava●…eer wrote his life , and called his Book , Pheandir the Mailen Knight . Hon. d'Vrsec . Tom. 45. k This seemes not to be that King , that was Son of Amintas , and King of Macedon ; but one who it seems was very lascivious : for I suspect there is some obscaene conceit in that word Club in the third verse following besides , marke his violence . l Bacchus , was a drunken yeoman of the Guard to Queen Elizabeth , and a great Archer ; so that it seemes the Authour mistooke his halbert , for a forke . m This was Long-Megg of Westminster , who after this conflict with Phillip , followed him in all his warres . Iustinian . lib. 35. n These were Lancashire-men , and sent by King Gorbadug ( for this war seemes to have been in the time of the Heptarchy in England ) to the aide of Caesar. Caesar. lib. citat . prope finem . o And therefore , the herb into which he was turned , was called Turnsole . Ovid. Metam . lib. 25. p Appollo , was Caesars Page , and a Monomatapan by birth , whose name by inversion was Ollopa : which in the old language of that Country , signifies as much as faire youth : but , Euphoniae Gratia , called Apollo , Gor. Bec. lib. 46. q Styropes , was a lame Smiths-man dwelling in S. Iohns-street ; but how he was called Bright , I know not , except it were by reason of the Luster of his eyes . r Holla , mistaken for Apollo . s Cervisia ( apud Medicos , vinum hordeaceum ) potus est Anglis longè charissimus ; Inventum Ferrarij Londinensis , Cui nomen Smuggo , Polydor. Virgil , de Invent. rerum . lib. 2. t Impp. Germaniae , antiquitus sol●…bant , ●…aris temporibus , adire Basingstochium ; ubi , de more , Iusjurandum solenne praestabant , de non viro propinando , praesente muliere : Hic Mos , jamdudum apud Anglos , pene vim legis obtinuit ; quippe gens illa , longe humanissima morem istum , in hodiernum usque diem , magna Curiositate , pari Comitate conjuncta , usurpant . Pancirol — utriusque imperij . lib. 6. cap. 5. u It seemes this was a great battail , both by the furie of it , & the aydes of each side ; but hereof read more , in Cornel. Tacit. lib. de moribus German . x This is in imitation of Lucan — Signis Signa , & pila — &c. Pharsali●… . lib. 1. in principio . Notes for div A52015-e45840 1 The harder the word is , the easier it is to be un●…stood . 2 In varying the use of the senses , the Author shewes himselfe to be in his wit●… . 3 In varying the use of the senses , the Author shewes himselfe to be in his wit●… . 4 There the Author shewes himselfe to be well versed in the Almanack . 5 Being twice repeated , it argues an elegant fancy in the Poet. 6 To makefalse English , argues as much knowledge as to make true latin . 7 Better once done then never . 8 For sometimes there may happen a quarrell amongst friends . 9 Till he was married , he could be but one . 1 There is no mischiefe , but a woman is at one end of it . 2 The more you heare on 't , the worse you 'l like it . 3 There was a Spanish regiment amongst them . 4 That may be done in an houre , which we may repent all our life after . 5 Being up to the Elbowes in trouble , she expressed it in this line . 6 Even Reckoning , makes long friends . 7 As a pudding ha's two ends , so a smock ha's tw●… 〈◊〉 . 8 As Love doth commonly break out into an itch , yet with her it did not so . 9 There the Author translates out of Ovid , as Ben Johnson do's in Sejanus out of Homer . 1 By this you may perceive , that primers were first printed at Abidos . 2 For distinction sake , because many mens noses bleed white blood . 3 Black is the beauty of the shoe . 4 Because a Cow , was amongst the ancient Graecians called a Neat , Gesner in his Etymolog . lib. 103. Tom 16. 5 Better falsifye the Rime , then the Story , &c. * Turne ▪ mill street * Vulcan . 
A66741	----	Wit and drollery joviall poems / corrected and much amended, with new additions, by Sir J.M. ... Sir W.D. ... and the most refined wits of the age. 1661 Approx. 339 KB of XML-encoded text transcribed from 152 1-bit group-IV TIFF page images. Text Creation Partnership, Ann Arbor, MI ; Oxford (UK) : 2003-01 (EEBO-TCP Phase 1). A66741 Wing W3132 ESTC R38723 17947658 ocm 17947658 106766 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. A66741) Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 106766) Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books, 1641-1700 ; 1112:2) Wit and drollery joviall poems / corrected and much amended, with new additions, by Sir J.M. ... Sir W.D. ... and the most refined wits of the age. Phillips, John, 1631-1706. E. M. J. M. [6], 263 [i.e.271], [24] p. Printed for Nathanial Brook ..., London : 1661. Preface signed (prelim. p. [6]): E.M. This work is based on a 1656 edition which was edited by John Phillips. Cf. BM. Error in paging: p. 97-104 repeated in numbering only. Advertisements: [24] p. at end. Reproduction of original in Huntington Library. Created by converting TCP files to TEI P5 using tcp2tei.xsl, TEI @ Oxford. Re-processed by University of Nebraska-Lincoln and Northwestern, with changes to facilitate morpho-syntactic tagging. 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Keying and markup guidelines are available at the Text Creation Partnership web site . eng Humorous poetry, English -- Early works to 1800. 2002-09 TCP Assigned for keying and markup 2002-10 SPi Global Keyed and coded from ProQuest page images 2002-11 Emma (Leeson) Huber Sampled and proofread 2002-11 Emma (Leeson) Huber Text and markup reviewed and edited 2002-12 pfs Batch review (QC) and XML conversion Wit and Drollery , IOVIALL POEMS : Corrected and much amended , with ADDITIONS , By Sir I. M. Ia. S. Sir W. D. I. D. and the most refined Wits of the Age. Ut Nectar Ingenium . LONDON , Printed for Nath. Brook , at the Angel in Cornhil , 1661. Courteous Reader , I Present thee with Wit and Drollery , truly calculated for the Meridian of mirth ; the once exalted Scene is at this present level'd , other Poems have come forth in such throngs , that our English world is satiated with them , especially as they have been lately stuffed with reiterated Hyperboles , or else other more pitiful whining passions of Love , such as ingenuous persons , cannot have the patience continually to be afflicted with . Reader , to give thee a broad-side of plain dealing , this Wit I present thee with , is such as can only be in fashion , invented purposely to keep off the violent assaults of Melancholly , assisted by the additional Engines , and Weapons of Sack and good company : as for those graver sort of people , who are contented to read old Bembo , with his Beard down to his Girdle , I wish them a good digestion of their studies ; these Poems are not for their gust● , they are a Heaven higher ; as jovial , as clear , and as lusty , as those that writ them ; such verbal harmony , being as pleasing to the fancies , as the most delightful Aires of Musick are to the eare . Not to be tedious , or to deceive the Reader with a belief of what is not , these Poems reprinted , with additions are collected from the best Wits , of what above 20. years since , were begun to be preserved , for mir●h and friends ; the fear of having some of them imperfectly set forth , hath , though unwillingly , made them common . What hath not been extant of Sir I. M. of Ia. S. of Sir W. D. of I. D. and other miraculous Muses of the Times , are here at thy Service , and as Webster at the end of his Play call'd the White Devil , subscribes , that the action of Perkins crown'd the whole Play , so when thou viewest the Title , and readest the sign of Iohnson's head , on the back-side of the Exchange , and the Angel in Cornhil , where they are sold , inquire who could better furnish the with such sparkling copies of Wit than those that have bin so long courted for them ; there are two or three copies crept in among the rest , as the ordinary sort of people croud in at the audience of an Embassador , which may at thy discretion be permitted to stay , or be put out ; though they are good , yet not to be indured , as they are old . I have no more to acquaint thee with , but that good Drollery is not so loose , or of so late an invention , but that the most serious Wits have thought themselves honoured to own them . Bidding thee farewell . E. M. WIT AND DROLLERY OR JOVIAL POEMS The Preface to that most elaborate piece of Poetry Entituled Penelope Ulisses . NO I protest , not that I wish the gaines To spoile the trade of mercenary braines . I am indiffrently bent , so , so , Whether I ever tell my works or no. Nor was 't my aime when I took pen in fingers , To take imployment for the Ballad singers . Nor none of these but on a gloomy day , My genius step to me , and thus gan say . Listen to me , I give you information , This History deserves a grave translation ; And if comparisons be free from flanders , I say as well as Hero and Leanders . This said , I took my chair in colours wrought , Which at an outcry with two stooles I bought . The stools of Dornix , which that you may know well , Are certain stuffs , Upholsters use to sell. Stuffs , said I ? no , some Linsey-Wolsey-monger mixt them , They were not stuff nor Cloth sure , but betwixt them . The ward I bought them in , it was without Hight Faringdon , and their a greasy lout Bid for them shilling six , but I bid seven , A summe that is accounted odd , not even : The Cryer thereat seemed to be willing , Quoth he ther 's no man better then seven shiling . He though it was a reasonale price , So struck upon the Table , once twice , thrice . My pen in one hand my pen-knife in the other , My Ink was good , my paper was none other . So sat me down , being with sadness moved , To sing this new Song , sung of old by Ovid. But would you think , as I was thus preparing All in a readiness , here and there staring To find my implements , that the untoward Elfe , My Muse shall steal away , and hide her self ? Just so it was , faith , neither worse nor better , Away she run er'e I had writ a Letter . I after her apace , and beat the bushes , Rank Grass , Firrs , Ferne , and the tall banks of rushes . At last I found my Muse , and wot you what , I put her up , for lo she was at squat . Thou slut quoth I , hadst thou not run away , I had made verses all this live-long day . But in good sooth , or'e much I durst not chide her , Lest she should run away again and hide her . But when my heat was or'e , I speak thus to her Why did'st thou play the wag ? I 'm very sure I have commended thee above ould Chaucer ; And in a Tavern once I had a Sawcer Of Whit-wine Vinegar , dasht in my face , For saying thou deservest a better grace , Thou knowst that then I took a Sawsedge up , Upon the knaves face it gave such a clap , That he repented him that he had spoken Against thy fame , he struct by the same token . I often have sung thy Meeters , and sometimes , I laugh to set on others at thy rimes . When that my Muse considered had this geare , She sigh'd so sore , it greiv'd my heart to hear . She said she had don ill , and was not blameless ' And Polyhymnie ( one that shall be nameless , Was present when she spoke it ) and before her , My Muses lamentation was the soarer . And then to shew she was not quite unkinde , She sounded out these strong lines of her minde . The Inovation of Vlysses and Penelope . O All ye (1) Cliptick Spirits of the Sphaeres That have or (2) sense to hear or (3) use of eares , And you in number (4) twelve Caelestiall Signes That Poets have made use of in their lines , And by which men do know what seasons good To gueld their Bore-piggs , , and let Horses blood List to my doleful tone , O (5) list I say , Unto the complaint of Penelope . She was a lover , I , and so was hee As loving unto her , and he to (6) she : But mark how things were alter'd in a moment Ulysses was a Graecian born , I so ment To have inform'd you first , but since 't is or e , It is as (7) well , as had it been before : He being as I said as Greek there rose A Quarrel 'twixt the Trojans and their (8) foes , I mean the Graecians , whereof he was (9) one , But let that pass , he was Laertes Son. Yet least some of the difference be ignorant , It was about a (1) Wench , you may hear more (2) on 't In Virgils Aeneids , and in Homer too ; How Paris lov'd her , and no more adoe But goes and steales her from her Husband : wherefore The Graecians took their tooles , and fighted therefore . And that you may perceive they were stout (3) Signiors , The Combat lasted for the space of ten (4) years . This Gallant bideing where full many a Mother Is oft bereav'd of Child , Sister of Brother , His Lady greatly longing for his presence (5) Writ him a Letter , whereof this the Sence . " My prety Duck , my pigsnie my Ulysses , " Thy poor Penelope sends a (6) thousand Kisses " As to her only Ioy a hearty greeting , " Wishing thy company , but not thy meeting " With enemies , and fiery spirits in Armour , " And which perchance may do thy body harme-or " May take thee Prisoner , and clap on thee bolts " And locks upon thy legges , such as weare Colts . " But send me word , and er'e that thou want Ransome " Being a man so comely , and so handsome , " I l'e sell my Smock both from my back and (7) belly " E're you want mony , meat , or Cloathes , I tell yee . When that Ulysses , all in greif enveloped . Had markt how right this Letter was Peneloped . Laid one hand on his heart , and said 't was guilty , Resting the other on his Dagger-hilty , Thus gan to speak : O thou that dost controule All beauties else , thou hath so bang'd my soul With thy lamentation , that I swear , I love thee strangely , without wit or fear ; I could have wish'd ( quoth he , ) my self the Paper Ink , Standish , Sandbox , or the burning Taper , That were the Instruments of this thy writing Or else the stool whereon thou sat'st inditing : And so might have bin neer that lovely breech That never yet was troubled with the (8.) Itch. And with the thought of that , his Sorrow doubled His heart with wo , was so Cuff'd and Cornubled , That he approv'd one of his Ladyes Verses , ( The which my Author in his book rehearses ) 'T is true quoth he , (9) Loves troubles make me tamer , Res est Soliciti plena timoris Amor. This said , he blam'd himself , and chid his folly For being so ore-rul'd with mellancholly , He call'd himself , Fool , Coxecombe , Asse , and Fop , And many a scurvy name he reckon'd up . But to himself , this language was too rough , For certainly the man had wit enough : For he resolves to leave his Trojan foes , And go to see his love in his best Cloaths . But marke how he was cross'd in his intent , His friends suspected him incontinent : And some of them suppos'd he was in love , Because his eyes all in his head did move , Or more or less then used , I know not which But I am sure they did not move so mich As they were wont to do : and then 't was blasted , Ulysses was in love and whilst that lasted No other newes within the Camp was spoke of , And many did suppose the match was broke off . But he conceal'd himself , nor was or'e hasty To shift his Cloathes , though now grown somewhat nasty . But having wash'd his hands in Pewter Bason , Determins for to get a Girle or a Son , On fair Penelope , for he look'd trimmer Then yong Leander when he learn'd his (1.) Primer , To Graece he wends apace , for all his hope Was only now to to see fair Penelope : She kemb'd her head , and wash'd her face in Creame And pinch'd her cheeks to make the (2.) red blood stream She don'd new Cloaths , and sent the old ones packing And had her shoes rub'd over with Lamp (3.) blacking , Her new rebato , and a falling band , And Rings with several posies on her hand . A stomacher upon her breast so bare , For Strips and Gorgets was not then the weare ▪ She thus adorn'd to meet her youthful Lover Heard by a Post-boy , he was new come over : She then prepares a banquet very neat (4) Yet there was not bit of Butchers meat But Pyes , and Capons , Rabbits , Larkes and Fruit ; Orion an a Dolphin , with his (5.) Harp And in the midst of all these dishes stood A platter of Pease-porridge , woundrous good , And next to that the God of Love was plac'd , His Image being made of Rye-past , To make that good which the old Proverb speaks [ The one the Heart , tother the belly breaks . ] Ulysses seeing himself a welcome Guest Resolves to have some Fidlers at the Feast : And 'mongst the various consort choosing them . That in their sleeves the armes of Agamem - Non , in the next verse , wore : Cry'd in a rage Sing me some Song made in the Iron Age. The Iron-Age , quoth he that used to sing ? This to my minde the Black-Smith's Song doth bring The Black-Smiths , quoth Ulysses ? and there holloweth , Whoope ! is there such a Song ? Let 's ha 't . It followeth , The Black-Smith . As it was sung before Ulysses and Penelope at their Feast , when he returned from their Trojan Warrs , collected out of Homer , Virgill and Ovid , by some of the Modern Family of the Fancies . OF all the trades that ever I see , Ther 's none with the Blacksmith compar'd may be , With so many several tooles works hee Which Nobody can deny , The first that ever thunderbolt made , Was a Cyclops of the Black Smiths trade , As in a learned author is said , Which Nobody can deny When thundringly we lay about The fire like lightening flasheth out ; Which suddainly with water wee d'out . Which Nobody can deny The fayrest Goddess in the Skies , To marry with Vulcan did devise Which was a Black-smith grave and wise Which no body can deny . Mulciber to do her all right Did build her a town by day and by night , Which afterwards he Hammersmith hight Which no body can deny . And that no Enemy might wrong her He gave her Fort , she need no stronger , Then is the Lane of Ironmonger , Which no body can deny . Vulcan farther did acquaint her That a pretty Estate he would appoint her , And leave her Seacoale-lane for a joynter . Which nobody can deny . Smithfeild he did free from dirt , And he had sure great reason for 't It stood very neare to * Venus Which nobody can deny . But after in good time and ride , It was to the Black Smiths rectified , And given'm by Edmond Ironside , Which nobody can deny . At last * he made a Net , or traine , In which the God of warre was t'ane , Which ever since was call'd Pauls-chaine Which nobody can deny . The common Proverb , as it is read , That we should hit the nayle o' the head : Without the Black Smith cannot be said , Which nobody can deny There is another must not be forgot Which falls unto the Black Smiths lot That we should strike while the I'rons hott , Which nobody can deny . A third lyes in the Black Smiths way When things are safe as old-wives say , They hav'em under lock and key , Which nobody can deny ▪ Another Proverb makes me laugh Because the Smith can challenge but half ; When things are as plain as a Pike staffe , Which nobody can deny ▪ But'tother half to him does belong ; And therefore do the Smith no wrong , When one is held to it hard , buckle and thong , Which nobody can deny . Then there is a whole one proper and fit And the Blacksmith's Iustice is seen in it , When you give a man Rostmeat and beat him with Spitt , Which nobody can deny . Another Proverb does seldome faile , When you meet with naughty beere or ale , You cry it is as dead as a dore nayle , Which nobody can deny . If you stick to one when fortunes wheele Doth make him many losses feele We say such a friend is as true as steele . Which nobody can deny . Ther 's one that 's in the Blacksmith's books , And from him alone for remedy looks . And that is he that is off o' th hooks . Which no body can deny . Ther 's ner ' a slut , if filth over-smutch her But owes to the Blacksmith for her leatcher : For without a payr of tongues no man will touch her . Which no body can deny . There is a Law in merry England ●n which the Smith has some command When any one is burnt in the hand ; Which no body can deny . Banbury ale a half-yard-pott , The Devil a Tinker dares stand to 't ; If once the tost be hizzing-hot . Which no body can deny . If any Taylor has the itch , Your Blacksmith's water , as black as pitch , Will make his fingers go thorow-stich . Which no body can deny . A Sullen-woman needs no leech , Your Blacksmiths Bellowes restores her speech And will fetch her again with wind in her breech . Which no body can deny . Your snuffling Puritans do surmise , That without the Blacksmiths mysteries , St. Peter had never gotten his Keyes , Which no body can deny . And further more there are of those That without the Blacksmiths help do suppose St. Dunstan had never tane the Divel by the nose . Which nobody can deny . And though they are so rigid and nice And rayle against Drabs , and drink and dice Yet they do allow the Black Smiths vice Which nobody can deny . Now when so many Haeresies fly about , And every sect growns more in doubt The Black Smith he is a hamering it out , Which nobody can deny ▪ Though Serjants at law grow richer far , And with long pleading a good cause can marr● Yet your Black Smiths take more pains at th● Barr , Which nobody can deny ▪ And though he has no commander's look Nor can brag of those he hath slain and took , Yet he is as good as ever strooke , Which nobody dan deny ▪ For though he does lay on many a blow It ruines neither friend nor foe ; Would our plundring-souldiers had done so , Which every one can deny ▪ Though Bankrupts lye lurking in their holes And laugh at their Creditors , and catchpoles , Yet your Smith can fetch 'em over the coales . Which nobody can deny ▪ Our lawes do punish severely still , Such as counterfit , deed , bond , or bill , But your Smith may freely forge what he wil● Which nobody can deny . To be a Jockey is thought a fine feat , As to traine up a horse , and prescribe him his meat Yet your Smith knowes best to give a heat . Which nobody can deny . The Roring-Boy who every one quailes And swaggers , & drinks , and sweares and railes , Could yet never make the Smith eat his nailes . Which nobody can deny . Then if to know him men did desire , They would not scorn him but ranck him higher ●or what he gets is out of the fire . Which nobody can deny . ●hough Ulysses himself has gon many miles And in the warre has all the craft & the wiles , ●et your Smith can sooner double his files . Which nobody can deny . ●●yst thou so , quoth Ulysses , and then he did call ●or wine to drinke to the Black-Smiths all , And he vowed it should go round as a Ball Which no body should deny . ●nd cause he had such pleasure t'ane , ●t this honest fidlers merry straine , ●e gave him the Horse-Shoe in Drury-lane Which nobody can deny . Where his posterity ever since ●re ready with wine , both Spanish and French , ●or those that can bring in another Clench Which nobody can deny . The Song being done they drank the health , they rose They wo'd in verse , and went to bed in prose . Loyalty confin'd . BEat on proud Billowes , Boreas Blow , Swell curled Waves , high as Iove's roof , Your incivility doth shew , That innocence is tempest proof . Though surely Nereus frown , my thoughts ar● calme ▪ Then strike affliction , for thy wounds are balm . That which the world miscalls a Goale , A private Closet is to me , Whilst a good Conscience is my Baile , And innocence my Liberty : Locks Barres and solitude together met , Make me no Prisoner but an Anchorit . I whil'st I wish'd to be retir'd Into this private room , was turn'd , As if their wisdomes had conspir'd , The Salamander should be burn'd . Or like those sophies who would drown a Fish ▪ So I 'me condemn'd to suffer what I wish . The Cynick hugs his poverty , The Pelican her wilderness , And 't is the Indians pride to be Naked on frozen Caucasus . Contentment cannot smart , Stoicks we see Make torments easie to their Apathy . ●hese Menacles upon my Arm , ●as my Mistris's favours weare ; ●nd for to keep my Ankles warme , ●have some Iron Shackles there . These walls are but my Garrison ; this Cell Which men call Goal , doth prove my Cittadel . So he that strook at Iasons life , ●hinking he had his purpose sure : ●y a malitious friendly knife , ●id only wound him to a cure . Malice I see wants wit , for what is meant , Mischief oft-times proves favour by th' event . ●m in this Cabinet lockt up , ●ike some hig-prized Margaret , ●r like some great Mogul or Pope , ●re cloystered up from publick sight . Retirement is a piece of Majesty , And thus proud Sultan , I 'me as great as thee . ●ere sin for want of food must starve , Where tempting objects are not seen ; ●nd these strong Walls do only serve , ●o keep Vice out , and keep me in . Malice of late's growne charitable sure , I 'me not Committed , but I 'm kept secure . When once my Prince affliction hath , Prosperity doth Treason seem ; And for to smooth so rough a Path , I can learn Patience from him . Now not to suffer , shews no Loyal heart , When Kings want ease , Subjects must learn 〈◊〉 sma● Have you not seen the Nightingale , A Pilgrim koopt into a Cage , How doth she chant her wonted tale , In that her narrow hermitage . Even then her charming melody doth prove , That all her boughs are trees , her Cage a gro● My soul is free as the ambient aire , Although my baser part 's immur'd , Whilest Loyal thoughts do still repair , 'T accompany my Solitude . And though immur'd , yet I can chirp and sing Disgrace to Rebels is glory to my King. What though I cannot see my King , Neither in his Person or his Coyne , Yet contemplation is a thing , That renders what I have not mine . My King from me , what Adamant can part , Whom I weare engraven on my heart . I am that Bird whom they combine , Thus to deprive of Liberty ; But though they do my Corps confine , Yet maugre hate , my soul is free . Although Rebellion do my body bind , My King can only captivate my mind . A SONG . THe Pangs of Love growes sore growes sore And so mine one Lady told me , I loved a bonny lass well , Well and she hath forsaken me . I loved her well and dellicate well , I told her my mind as I might , She bid me love where I would Hay hay and went away out of my sight . I thought my Love had been as true to me , As the grass that grows on the ground , But now she proved the contrary , She is as good lost as found . I thought my Love had been a Virgin pure , When to her my Love I betook , She went with child by a Gentleman And married a greasy Cook. But I doe beshrow her Cheekes and her chin And so do I beshrow her face Her cherry red Lipps with a hay hay And her flattering Tongue within . And I doe beshrew her goodly gray eyes So do I her apparel and pride For now my land 's gon with a hay hay , My love she looks all a one side . And if I live another year As God may give me grace I 'le buy her a glass of decitfull water To wash her dissembling face . A SONG in praise of noble Liquor . COme hither zealous brothers , And leave your disputation : I will recount where is a fount , That leads to mitigation : The vertue of which Liquor , Being taken with replation , Will clear your eyes and make you wise , And fill you with discretion And it is call old Sack old Sack ▪ ●is Phisick good and Diet , To cure the man call'd Puritan And make him sleep in quiet . No frantick strange opinion Doth from this Fountain bubble Nor Puritan that Scripture scan The Church and State to trouble ●rom Renish White and Claret This runs of generation Which fills the Realme with filthy fleame Of strife and alteration Then let them drink old Sack old Sack. He is wiser then the fathers No counsel can command him He burnes with zeale the common weale No Cannon can withstand him His privie quese informes him . All other men do wonder Fill him with drink and then I think He will recant the slaunder And let it be old Sack old Sack &c. A Surples more affrights him That smells of superstition Then twenty Smocks or nether Stocks To tender his submission Besides his holy Sister He loves no female Creature But when he is drunk , he will kiss a punke And tender his good nature And then let him drink old Sack old Sack. His head no reason enters Nor he to be reclaimed His braines doth crack for want of Sack And thus his wits are maimed ; The only way to cure him If Sack will not collect him Must be the grate of Bishoppes gate Where mad Tom will expect him There let him drink old Sack old Sack. To the tune of Pip my Cock. ALas poor silly Barnaby how men do thee molest , In City Town and Countrey , they never let thee rest : For let a man be merry , at Even or at Morne , They will say that he is Barnaby , and laugh him for to scorn ; And call him drunken Barnaby when Barnaby is gone But can they not tend their drinking and let Barnaby alone . You City Dames so dainty that are so neat and fine That every day drinks plenty of spice and Claret wine , But you must have it burnt with ●ugar passing sweet They will not suffer Barnaby to walke a long the street , But call him drunken Barnaby when Barnaby is gone , Cannot you tend your Gosseping and let Barnaby alone . You Clerks and Lawyers costly , that are so fine & nice When you do meet so costly , with a cup of Ale and spice , You will take your Chamber , before you do begin Although you steale him privatly you count it is no sin , Though Barnaby stands open , in sight of every one What cannot you tend your drinking , and let Barnaby alone , But I have seen some Hostis , that have taken a pott , When her head runns giddy , she 'l call for a double shott , Although she gets her living by such kind of gests Shall mock , scoffe and deride me , as deeply as the rest , But call me drunken Barnaby when all my money is gon But cannot you look to their mault man and let Barnaby alone . A SONG . THe Blazing Star is soon burn'd out The Diamond light abide The one in glory shines about , The other yields light beside . That spark if any should be mine That else hath been unknown , But if to every he she shine I 'le rather lye alone . The Glow-worme in the dark gives light And to the view of many , The Moon she shews her self by night And yields her light to any . But if my Love should seem to be To every one so known , Shee never more shall shine to me , I 'le rather lie alone . I 'le not consume nor pine nor grieve , As other Lovers do , But such as beare a constant mind And will to me prove true , I will set as little by any she , As she by me hath done , I will love where is constancy Or else I will love none . A Willow Garland on my head , I ever mean to wear I need no pillow to my bed , I am clear void of care . A single life is without strife , And free from sighes and groanes Therefore I mean in longest night Ever to lie alone . Once I lov'd the fairest love That e're my eyes did see But she to me unconstant prov'd And set no love by me . And ever since my mind so tost I le lend no love to none , Because I have been thus much crost I le ever lie alone . A SONG . BEgon begon my Willy my Billy , Begon begon my dear , The weather is warm , T will do thee no harm , Thou canst not be lodged here . My Willy my Billy , my Hony my conny , My love my dove my dear , Oh oh , the wether is warm 'T will do thee no harm , Oh oh thou canst not be lodged here . Farewel farewel my Juggie my puggie , Farewel farewel my dear , Then will I be gone , From whence that I came , If I cannot be lodged here . My Juggie my puggie , my hony my cony , My love my dove my dear , Oh oh then will I begone From whence that I came , Oh oh if I cannot be lodged here . Return return my Willy my Billy Return my dove and my dear The wether doth change , Then seem it not strange Thou canst not be lodged here . My Willy my Billy , my hony my cony My love my dove my dear , Oh oh the wether doth change , Then seem it not strange Oh and thou shalt be lodged here . A SONG . Sweet at night shall I come to your bed fie no , You need not hazard your maidenhead why so Is not your will a law to restrain , yes yes What should make you then to refrain pish pish , Give me an answer grant my desire peace peace See see what harm it is thus to aspire cease cease . Fire unkind why flide you away hey ho Cannot my love alure you to stay no no Soon my life will end if you part tush tush , And this straite I 'le send to my heart push push , Farwel cruel thus I die hold hold , Hold me then with your reply , be bold be bold , Thus am I bold your armes to possess do do , And your lips I can do no less hun hun But my desire can linger no more alas alas , Fear not t was nothing stirrd the door t was t was , Thus by degrees I climb to aspire come come , An houre of bliss ( oh ) ner'e to be spent ha done ha done A SONG of his Mistress . MY mistriss is a Shuttle cok , Compos'd of cock and feather , Each battle doth play with her dock And bang her on the leather . One cannot suffice her fill But she rebounds to the other still , Fa la lanke down dilly . My mistress is a Tennis ball Her leather so smooth and fine , Shee 's often bang'd against the wall , And banded under line ; But he that means to win her will Must hit her in the hazard still , Fa la lanke down dilly . My mistress is a Nightingal So sweetly can she sing As fair as fine as Filomel A daughter for a King. For in the night and darkness thick She ●ongs to leane against a prick Fa la lanke down dilly . My mistress is a nettle sharp , And dangerous to finger A gallant wench and full of mettle I woose shee is a stinger , For if you do but touch her hips Ther 's no such liquor for your lips , Fa la , &c. My mistress is an Owle by night All day she keeps her bed For fear she should her beauty burn , And no man would her wed ; But be she fair or foul in sight She is as good as Hellen in the night Fa la lanke down dilly . My mistress is a moon so bright , Would God that I could win her , She loves to be sturring in the night And keep a man within her ; A man that were both prick and thornes Once a month shee 'l make him were hornes , Fa la lanke down Dilly . My mistress is a Tobaccopipe Soon burn'd and often broke , Shee carrieth fire in her brink That yieldeth forth no smoke If s●ee have not a clean skin Shee hath a rumy thing within , Fa la lanke down dilly . My mistress is a ship of warr Much shot discharged at her , Her Puppe receiveth many a scarr Oft driven by winde and water , Although she grapples at the last Shee sinks and striketh down the mast Fa la lanke down dilly . Why should I my mistress call An instrument a bable , A shuttle cock a Tenice ball A Ship of war unstabl'd Say but this and say no more Shee is a wanton and a hay ho. Fa la lanke down ●i●ly ▪ On Luce Morgan a Common-VV●ore . EPIGRAM . HEre lies black Luce that Pick-hatch drab , Who had a word for every stab , Was leacherous as any Sparrow Her Quiver ope to every arrow . Wer't long , or short , or black , or white , She would be sure to noch it right . Wer 't Lords or Knights , or Priests , or Squires , Of any sort except a Friers : A Friers shaft she lackt alone , Because England here was none . At last some Vestall fire she stole , Which never went out in her hole . And with that zealous fire being burn'd , Vnto the Romish faith she turn'd : And therein dy'd and was 't not fit , For a poor whore to dye in it , An Epitaph on a VVhore . IN this cold Monument lies one Which I knew who hath lain upon , The happier he whose sight might charm , And touch might keep King David warme . Lovely as is the dawning East , Was this Marbles frozen guest . As glorious and as bright as day . As oderiferous as May. As streight and slender as the Crest , Or Antler of the one beam'd Beast , Whome I admired as soon as I knew . And now her memory persue , With such a superstitious Lust , That I could fumble with her dust . She all perfections had , and more , Tempting , as if design'd an whore : For so she was , and some there are Whores , I could wish them all as faire . Courteous she was , and yong , and wise , And in her calling so precise ; That industry had made her prove , The sucking School-Mistress of Love. But Death , ambitious to become Her Pupil , left his gastly home : And seeing how we us'd her here , The raw-bone Raskal ravish'd her . Who pretty soul resign'd her breath , To practice Lechery with death . A mock-song . 1. OH Love , whose power and might No Creature ere withstood , Thou forcest me to write , Come turn about Robin-hood . 2. Sole Mistress of my heart , Let me thus farr presume , To make this request ; A black patch for the Rhume . 3. Grant pitty or I die , Love so my heart bewitches , With grief I houle and cry ; Oh how my Elbow Itches . 4. Teares overflow my eyes With flouds of daily weeping , That in the silent night , I cannot rest for sleeping 5. What is 't I would not doe To purchase one sweet smile ? Bid me to China goe , Faith I 'le sit still the while . 6. Oh women you will never , But think men still will flatter ; I vow I love you ever , But yet it is no matter . 7. Cupid is blind they say , But yet methinks he seeth ; He struck my heart to day , A Turd in Cupids teeth . 8. Her Tre●ses that were wrought , Much like the golden snare , My loving heart hath caught , As Mosse did catch his Mare . 9. But since that all reliefe , And comfort doe forsake me , ●'le kill my self with grief ; Nay then the Devill take me . 10 And since her grateful merits , My loving look must lack , ●'le stop my vitall spirits With Claret and with Sack. 11. Marke well my woful hap , Iove rector of the Thunder , Send down thy thunder-clap , And rend her smock in sunder . The Answer . 1. YOur Letter I receiv'd Bedect with flourishing quarters , Because you are deceiv'd , Goe hang you in your Garters . 2. My beauty which is none , Yet such as you protest , Doth make you sigh and groan : Fie , fie , you do but jest . 3. I cannot chuse but pitty Your restless mourneful teares , Because your plaints are witty , You may goe shake your eares . 4. To purchase your delight , No labour you shall leese , Your pains I will requite , ; Maid , go fetch him Bread and Cheese . 5. 'T is you I faine would see , 'T is you I daily think on ; My looks as kind shall be , As the Devills over Lincoln . 6. If ever I do tame Great Iove of lightnings flashes ; I 'le send my fiery flame , And burn thee into ashes . 7. I can by no meanes miss thee , But needs must have thee one day , I prethee come and kiss me , Whereon I sat on Sunday . In praise of his Mistrisses beauty . 1. I Have the fairest non-perel , The fairest that ever was seen , And had not Venus been in the way , She had been beauties Queen . 2. Her lovely looks , her comly grace , I will describe at large ; God Cupid put her in his books , And of this Jem took charge . 3. The Graecian Hellen was a Moore , Compar'd to my dear Saint , And fair fac'd Hyrens beauty poor , And yet she doth not paint . 4. Andromeda whom Perseus lov'd Was foule were she in sight , Her lineaments so well approv'd , In praise of her I 'le write . 5. Her haire not like the golden wire , But black as any Crow , Her browes so beetl'd all admire , Her forehead wondrous low . 6. Her squinting staring gogling eyes , Poor Children doe affright , Her nose is of the sarasens size ; Oh she 's a matchless wight . 7. Her Oven-mouth wide open stands , And teeth like rotten pease , Her Swan-like neck my heart commands , And brests all bit with Fleas . 8. Her tawny dugs like too great hills , Hang Sow-like to her wast , Her body huge like two wind-mills , And yet she 's wondrous chast . 9. Her shoulders of so large a breadth , Shee 'd make an excellent Porter And yet her belly caries most , If any man could sort her . 10. No Shoulder of Mutton like her hand , For broadness , thick and fat , With a pocky Mange upon her wrist ; Oh Iove ! how love I that ? 11. Her belly Tun-like to behold , Her bush doth all excel , The thing that by all men extol'd , Is wider then a well . 12. Her brawny buttocks plump and round , Much like a Horse of Warre , With speckled thighs , scab'd and Scarce sound ; Her knees like bakers are . 13. Her leggs are like the Elephants , The Calfe and small both one , Her anckles they together meet , And still knock bone to bone . 14. Her pretty feet not 'bove fifteens , So splay'd as never was , An excellent Usher for a man That walks the dewy grass . 15. Thus have you heard my Mistriss prais'd , And yet no flattery us'd , Pray tell me , is she not of worth ? Let her not be abus'd . 16. If any to her have a minde , He doth me woundrous wrong For as she 's Beautious so she 's Chast , And thus conclude my Song . A SONG . 1. WHen yong folkes first begin to love , And undergoe that tedious taske , It cuts and scowres throughout the powers Much like a running glass . 2. It is so full of sodain joyes Proceeding from the Heart , So many tricks , and So many toyes , And all not worth a Fart . 3. For Venus loved Vulcan , Yet she would lye with Mars , If these be honest tricks my love , Sweet love come kisse mine — 4 ▪ If that which I have writ , Be unmannerly in speech , Yet when occasion serves to shite , Will serve to wipe your breech 5. Thus kindly and in Courtesie , These few lines I have written , And now O love come kiss mine — For I am all beshitten . A Song of the Sea-men and Land-souldiers . 1. WE Sea-men are the bony-boyes , That feare no stormes nor Rocks , Whose Musick is the Cannons nose , Whose sporting is with knocks a. 2. Mars has no Children of his own , But we that fight on Land a ; Land-Souldiers Kingdomes up have blown Yet they unshaken stand a. 3. 'T is brave to see a tall Ship saile , With all her trim gear on a. As though the Devill were in her taile , She fore the wind will run a. 4. Our maine battalia when it moves , Ther 's no such glorious thing a , Where leaders like so many Ioves Abroad their thunder fling a. 5. Come let us reckon what Ships are ours , The Gorgon and the Dragon , The Lyon that in fight is bold , The Bull with bloody flag on . 6. Come let us reckon what works are ours , Forts , Bulwarks , Barricadoes , Mounts , Gabions , Parrapits , Countermurs , Casemates and Pallisadoes . 7. The Bear , the Dog , the Fox , the Kite , That stood fast on the Rover , They chas'd the Turke in a day and night , From Scandaroon to Dover . 8. Field-pieces , Muskets , Groves of Pikes , Carbines and Canoneers a , Squadrons , half Moons , with Rankes and Files ▪ And Fronts , and Vans , and Reers a. 9. A Health to brave Land-Souldiers all , Let Cans a piece goe round a , Pell-mell let 's to the Battaile fall , And lofty mu●ick sound a. A Song . MY dear and onely love take heed , How thou thy self expose , And let no longing Lovers feed , On such like looks as those , I 'le Marble wall thee round about , Being built without a door : But if my love do once break out , I 'le never love thee more . Nor let their Oaths by volleys shot , Make any breach at all ; Nor smoothness of ther language plot Away to scale the wall , Nor balls of Wilde-fire Love consume , The shrine that I adore , For if such smoak about thee fume , I 'le never love thee more . Thy wishes are as yet too strong , To suffer by surprize , and victed with my love so long , Of force the siege must rise ; And leave thee in the strength of health , And state thou wert before : But if thou prove a common-wealth I 'le never love thee more . Or if by fraud , or by consent , My heart to ruine come , I 'le ne'r sound Trumpet as I meant , Nor march by beat of Drum : But fould mine Armes like Ensignes up , Thy falshood to deplore , And after such a bitter cup , I 'le never love thee more , Then doe by thee as Nero did , When Rome was set on fire , Not onely all reliefe forbid , But to a hill retire ; And scorne to shed a teare to save Such spirits grown so poor , But laugh and sing thee to thy grave , And never love thee more . A SONG . 1. WHen Phoebus address'd his course to the West , And took up his rest below , And Cynthia agreed in a glittering weed , Her light in his stead to bestow . Travel'd alone , attended by none , Till sodainly I heard one cry ; Oh doe not , doe not kill me yet , For I am not prepared to dye . 2. With that I came nere , to see and to hear , And there did appeare a show ; The Moon was so bright , I saw such a sight , Not fit that each wight should know . A Man and a Maid together were laid , And ever she cry'd Oh fie ! Oh doe not , doe not kill me yet , For I am not prepared to dye . 3. The young man was rough , and he took up he● stuffe , And to blind man buffe he would go ; Yet still she did cry , but still she did lye , And put him but by with a no : But she was so young , and he was so strong , Which made her still to cry , Oh doe not , doe not kill me For I am not prepared to dye . 4. With that he gave o're and swore , solemnly He would kill her no more that night , He bid her adue , for little he knew , She would tempt him to more delight , But being to depart it grieved her heart , Which made her loud to cry , Oh kill me , kill me once again , For now I am prepared to dye . A SONG . I Courted a Lasse , my folly was the cause of her disdaining ; I courted her thus , what shall I sweet Dolly , doe for thy dear loves obteining ? But another had dallied with this my Dolly , that Dolly for all her faining , Had got such a Mountain above her Valley , that Dolly went home complaining . Upon my Lord Majors day , being put off by reason of the Plague . IF you 'l but here me I shall tell , A sad mischance that late befel , for which the daies of old , ●n all new Almanacks must mourn , And Babes that never must be born , shall weep to hear it told . For loe the sport of that great day , ●n which the Major hath leave to play , and with him all the town ; His Flag , and drum , and Fife releas'd , And he forbid to goe a Feasting in his Scarlet Gown , No Fife must on the Thames be seen , To fright the Major , and please the Queen , nor any wild fire tost . Though he suppose the Fleet that late , Invaded us in eighty eight , o're matcht by his Gally foist . The Pageants , and the painted cost Bestowed on them , are all quite lost , for now he must not ride : Nor shall they sheare the Players tall , Being mounted on some mighty Whale , swims with him through Cheap-si● Guild-hal now must not entertain The Major , who there would feast his brain , with white broth and with He● Nor shall the Fencers act their Piggs , Before the Hinch-boyes which are Giggs , whipt out with all the me●● Nor must he go in State to swear , As he was wont at Westminster . no Trumpets at the Hal● Their clamorous voices there would stretch , As if the Lawyers they would teach , in their own Courts to ba●● But what in sooth is pitty most , Is for their Daughters they have lost , all joyes for which they pray Which scatter palmes on their cheeks , Which they had prim'd at least three weeks before against the day And 'mongst themselves they much complain , That this Lord Major in first of reign , should do them so much wrong As to suppress by message sad , The feast for which they all have had , Their March-pane dream so long . Thus for their beauteous sakes have I , Describ'd the daies large History , 't is true although not witty Which is deny'd , for I 'de be loath , To cut my coat , above my cloath , my Subject is the City . A Song by Sir John Suckling . OUt upon it , I have lov'd , three whole daies together , And perchance might love three more , if that it hold fair weather ; Time shall melt his wing away , e're he can discover In the whole wide world again , such a constant lover . But a pox upon 't , no praise there is due at all to me , Love with me had had no stay , had it any been but she Had it any been but she , and that very very face , There had been long time e're this , a dozen dozen in her place . The answer by the same Author . SAy , but did you love so long ? in sooth I need● must blame ye ▪ Passion did your judgement wrong , and want o● Reason shame ye ▪ Truth , Times fair and witty Daughter , quickly did discover , You were a subject fit for laughter , and more fooll then Lover ▪ Yet you needs must merit praise for your constant folly ▪ Since that you lov'd three whole daies , were yo● not melancholly ? She for whom you lov'd so true , and that very very face ▪ Puts each minute such as you , a dozen dozen to disgrace Upon an old Scold . IOve lay thy Majesty aside , and wonder To hear a voice in consort with thy thunder , Whilst thine with a shrill treble neatly graces , The roaring clamour of her deep-mouth`d basis ; Yet in each point , her nimble chops run on , The lubrick touches of division , And when her kindled thoughts , her tongue inspire , Instead of words , like Etna she spits fire : So in a word , ( to her eternal fame ) Shee 'l excercise thy thunder , and thy flame ; Old Time had pull'd her teeth out , but they 'r sprung Again , more sharp and active in her tongue . ●n her Malignant Aspect doth appear , The season of the Dog-dayes all the year . With her sowre look she might convert the Sea , And all the Elements to Curds and Whea . On a deformed old Woman ( whorish ) whome one was pleased to call the Phoenix . ARt thou the Phoenix ? I could rather swear , Thou art Callisto , chang'd into a Bear ; Or else thou then transformed but in part , And so laid by , halfe Bear , halfe Woman art , Or art thou Io , whome adulterate Iove , Long since , when thou wett beautiful did love : And jealous Iuno for thy crime hath now Chang'd thee into a foule mishapen Cow ; But thou the badge of thy disgrace now scornes And makes thy harmless Husband wear th● horne● He that can call thee Phoenix from his heart , Must needs be such another as thou art . Or he to sacred beauty had a spite , ( Like those that use to paint the Devil white ) And calling thee the Phoenix hath out-gone , All that revenge could e're think upon ; He had more truly spoke , and might with less Despight have call'd the Devil his Holiness . Should but thy picture be expos'd to sight , And under it the name of Phoenix write ; woo● They that ner'e knew what meant the Phoenix Straight swear by it , the Devil was understood . A Gentleman on his being trim'd by a Cobler . MY haire grown rude , and Gally's bridg● broke dow● Which dam'd my passage to Carmarthen Town Trim'd was I , I am sure , but by what Monster , If I describe him , you will hardly Conster : 'T is one whose foot is in the stirrup still Yet never rides , waxes each hour more ill Yet never mends ; can make a bad soul better , Yet no Divine , nor scarce doth know a letter . He 's alwaies sowing , yet ne'r useth needle , Put , folkes i' th stocks , yet is no beggars beadle fee. Mens legs he stretcheth often on a tree , Yet free from th' Gallows , and the Hangmans Let a Consumption some to skellitons wast , He will be sure to ease'um at the last , And yet is no Physitian , he 's still knocking , Yet breaks no peace , nor need his doors unlocking He alwaies sits , yet Table wants , and Carpet , ●ut looks like a scab'd Sheep , tane from a Tarpit . ●his lovely gallant , with his well pitcht thumbe , ●nd Leather apron on , my hide did-thrumb ; ●nd par'd my face , 't were worth the sight to have bin ●o see his oilely joynts about my chin . ●armarthen Barbers be not quite dismayed , ●hough Kit the Cobler undertake your trade ; ●Twas only done that his best friends might feel , ●ow perfect he is made from head to Heel . On Jack wiseman . ●Ack Wiseman brags his very name Proclaimes his wit , he 's much to blame , ●o do the Proverb so much wrong , ●hich saies he 's wise that holds his tongue ; ●hich makes me contradict the Schooles , ●nd apt to think the wise men fooles . Yet pardon Iack , I hear that now Thou' rt wed , and must thy wit allow , That by a strange aenigma can , Make a light Woman a Wiseman . Love blind , a Song . 1. LOve blind ? who saies so ? 't is a lye , I 'le not believe it , no not I ; If Love be blind how can he then Discerne to hit the hearts of men ? Yet pause a while it may be true , Or else hee 'd wound the womens too . 2. The Females only Scape ? nay then , The lad has got his eyes agen ; And yet methinks 't is strange that he should strike at randome thus , and see ; I' th' guiding still to fix his dart , And leave untoucht the stubborne heart . 3 , Love blind ? how can his darts surprize Our hearts then , piercing through our eyes ? Unless by secret power guided , Least he by us should be derided , It be the little Archers minde , To make us all as he is , blinde . The Anglers Song . ●'Th ' non-age of the Morn we got up , If plots had tane all night , w 'had sate up : How e're before the Sun took Coach , We were with Bream , and Pike , and Roach : ●ut if you 'd know how we thus earely ●ddrest to th'field , I 'le tell you squarely . Th' Alarum of a Watch ingages , ●nd doth provoke our stout courages : ●or that at houre of three wo'nt dally , ●o up we rose , and forth we sally . ●f Fish we mean a flat massacre , ●nd so we march o're many an Acre . ●nd that you mayn't our deeds misconster , ●ray wot you well , there is a monster ; Who with tyrannick power doth seize on , As greedy morttals feed on Peason ) Th' oppressed frie , he 's hight the Pike , Who often times doth lurke in Dyke . So on we go , and much we brag , ●hough each behind his fellow lag . ●s home we came , that in our dish What Proverb saith ( as mute as Fish ) You might have throwne : but this rare story , ●'le not so rudely lay before ye . But at preceeding points wee 'l touch , Though you perhaps will think to much ; But those I am resolv'd to give ye , Though I 'm voluminous as Livie . Of Dew there was a gallant draught , Which when the sun arose he quaft : But'cause he did not rise so soon , I' th' interim we had wet our shoon . When we came neer the place call'd Breach pond ( I wish that it had been in Duch-lond ) And that our fancies 'gan to gallop , A thick blue mist did us invellop : Which caus'd us to commit an error , But yet we march on without fear or Wit , untill that we arrive us , There where our fishing fate did drive us . But there we met with an ill Omen , For at the pond side there were some men ; Which were so bold as to cry pish , As Proverb saies , hee 'l catch no fish That swears ; which they did stoutly , As they did about the pond lye . These men some bottles of Canary , To keep the Mists and Damps did carry ; Although we did not ken a wight , Yet lovingly they us invite , That of there Sack wee 'd take a dish , Which was not brought to Fox the fish . We left them and betook our selves , With bates to Court the watry Elves ; There we did practise Arts most quaint , But rogish Fish they were so do daintty , that they would not bite , But all our pretious morsels slight ; Though divers of them cost much money , ( Amongst the rest was Loaf and Honey . ) We count the cost to ten pence sterling , All which into the pond we hurl in . The Proverb here should be inserted , But I am loath't should be inverted : Do what I can it needs will out , Lose a Fly , and catch a Trout . How e're this adage goes , we are far , From losing of a Hog for Tarre . So that 's on our side still I see , One Proverb that 's our , Enemy . For as we did our business handle , Our sport it was not worth the Candle . But to returne , the wind did bluster , So we came home all in cluster . Our heads hung down , our hands in pocket , And all our patience burn't to th' socket : Only by the way we tride our skill , But the same Planet govern'd still That rul'd i' th morne : so home we hide us , And blame those Planets which that day had spi'd us , W th blinking aspects , grurching our good fortune Though we most zealously did them importune . And the next day new sorrow administred , For all our feet were with our travell blistered . A SONG . 1. SHe lay all naked in her bed , And I my self lay by ; No Vail but Curtaines about her spread . No covering but I. Her head upon her shoulders seeks , To hang in careless wise , All full of blushes was her cheeks , And of wishes were her eyes . 2. The blood still fresh into her face , As on a message came , To say that in another place , It meant a nother game . Her cherry lips , moist , plump and faire , Millions of Kisses crown , Which ripe and uncropt dangled there , And weigh the branches down . 3. Her Breasts that swell'd so plump and high . Bred pleasant pain in me , For all the world I do defie , The like felicity . Her thighs and belly soft and faire , To me were only shewn , To have seen such meat , and not to have eat , Would have angred any stone . 4. Her knees lay upward gently bent , And all lay hollow under , As if on easie termes they ment , To fall unforc't asunder . Just so the Cyprian Queen did lye , Expecting in her bower ; When too long stay , had kept the boy , Beyond his promised houre . 5. Dull clown , quoth she , why dost delay Such proffered bless to take ? Canst thou find out no other way Similitude to make ? Mad with delight I thundering , Threw my Armes about her , But pox upon 't 't was but a dream , And so I lay without her . An answer , being a dreamed . 1. SHe lay up to the Navel bare , As was a willing Lover , Expecting between hope and fear , When I would come and cover . Her hand beneath my waste-band slips , To grope in busie wise , Which caused a trembling in her lips , And a shivering in her eyes . 2. The blood out of her face did goe , As it on service went , To second what was gone before , When all its strength was spent . Her Cheeks and lips as Coral redd , Like Roses were full blown : Which fading streight , the leaves were spread , And so the — comes down . 3. Her breasts that then both panting were , Such comfort wrought between us , That all the world I dare to swear , Would envy to have seen us . Her belly and its provinder , For me was kept in store ; Such news to hear , and not to have share , Would have made a man a Whore. 4. Her legs were girt about my waste , My hand under her Crupper , As who should say now break your face , And come again to supper . Even as the God of Warre did knock , As any other man will , For hast of work , till twelve a Clock , Kept Vulcan at his Anvil . 5. Mad wag , quoth she , why dost thou make Such hast thy self to reare ? Canst thou not know that for thy sake , The Fair lasts all the year ? Quiet and calme as are loves streames , I threw my self about her , But a pox upon true jests and dreames , I had better have laine without her . A SONG . 1. FUll forty times over , I have strived to win , Full forty times over neglected have been , But it 's forty to one , but I 'le tempt her again : For he 's a dull lover , That so will give over , Seeing thus runs the sport , Seeing thus runs the sport , And assault her but often you 'l carry the fort , Seeing thus runs the sport , And assault her but often you 'l carry the fort . 2. Ther 's a breach ready made , which still open hath bin , And thousands of thoughts to betray it within , If you once come to storme her , you 're sure to get in . Then stand not off coldly , But venter on boldly , With weapon in hand , With weapon in hand , If you do but aproach her , she 's not able to stand , With weapon in hand . If you charge her but home she 's not able to stand . 3. Some Ladies when down them before you do sit , Will strive to repulse you with fire-balls of wit , But alas they 'r but Crackers and seldome do hit ; Then vanquish them after , With Alarums of laughter , Their forces being broke , Their forces being broke , And the fire quite past , you may vanquish the smoak , Their forces being broke , And the fire quite past , you may vanquish the smoak . 4. With pride and with state some outworks we make , And with volleys of frownes drive the enemy back , If you mind them discreetly they are easie to take , Then to it , nere fear them , But boldly come neer them , By working about , By working about , If you once but approach , they can nere hold it out , By working about , If you once but approach , they can nere hold it out , 5. Some Ladies with blushes and modesty fight , And with their own fear , the rude foe doth affright But they 'r easie surpriz'd , if you come in the night Then thus you must drive it , To parley in private , And the'yr overthrown , If you promise them so fairly , they 'l soon be your your own ▪ And the'yr overthrown . If you promise them so fairly , they 'l soon be your own ▪ A SONG . WEe 'l go no more to Tunbridge wells , The journey is too farr , Nor ride in Epsome Wagon where Where our bodies jumbled are . But we will all to the West-wood waters goe , The best that ere you saw , And we will have them hence forth call'd The Kentish new found spaw . Then go Lords and Ladies what e're you aile , Go thither all that pleases , For it will cure you without all fail , Of old and new diseases . ●f you would know how it as out found ; The truth I cannot tell , ●ome say it was by Docter Trig , and so became a Well . Others affirme his patient , Which did much pain indure , Went thither and washt a festered sore , And had a perfect cure . Then go , &c. Thither all the Countrey people flock , By day and eke by night , And for to fill their bottles full , They scramble , scratch and fight . But when the Gentry thither come ▪ And others of good fashion , There is is presented unto them , A fine accommodation , Then go &c. Ioans hole was the first was dig'd , My Ladies was next after , When you are there you 'l hardly taste ▪ which is the better water . For it is so that my Laidies hole , Is digged so neer to Ioane , That and if the people be too rude , They will break both holes into one , Then go &c. Ladies there you may your bodyes cleanse , By stoole and Urine too , 'T will make you have a stomack too 't , Whether you wil or no. There you may skip behind a bush , A fitting place to finde , 'T will make you ope and shut your purse , Before and eke behinde , Then go &c , If I should tell you it would cure , Each malady and grief , Perhaps you would be like other men , Or people past beliefe . Therefore I pray will you think it fit , Go thither all and try , And when you have approv'd of it , You 'l say as much as I. Then go &c. Of banishing the Ladies out of Town . 1. A Story strange I will unfold , Then which a sadder ne're was told , How the Ladies were from London sent , With mickle woe and discontent . 2. ● heart of Marble would have bled , To see this rout of white and red , Both Yorke and Lancaster must fly , With all their painted Monarchy . 3. Those faces which men so much prize , In Mrs. Gibbs her Liveries , Must leave their false and borrowed hue , And put on greif that 's onely true . 4. Those pretty patches long and round , Which covered all that was not sound ; Must be forgotten at the Farmes , As useless and suspitious charmes . 5. Now we must leave all our designes , That were contriv'd within the Lines ; Communication is deny'd , If to our Husbands we be tryed , 6. And here 's the misery alone , We must have nothing but our own ; Oh give us Liberty and we VVill never aske propriety . 7. Alas how can a kiss be sent , From Rocky Cornwall into Kent ? Or how can Sussex stretch an arme , To keep a Northern servant warme ? 8. Oh London ! Centre of all Mirth , Th' Epitome of English Earth ; All Provinces are in the streets , And Warwick-shire with Essex meets , 9. Then farwel Queen-street , and the Fields , And Garden that such pleasure yeilds , Oh who would such faire Lodgings change To nestle in a plunder'd grange . 10. Farewell good places old and new , And Oxford Kates once more adieu ; But it goes unto our very hearts , To leave the Cheese-cakes and the Tarts . 11. Farewell Bridge-foot and Bear thereby , And those bald-pates that stand so high , VVe wish it from our very soules , That other heads were on those powles . 12. But whether hands of Parliament , Or of Husbands we 're content , Since all alike such Traitors be , both against us and Monarchy . A SONG . 1. LAy that sulley Garland by thee , Keep it for the Elyzian shades ; Take my Wreathes of lusty Ivy , Not of that faint mirtle made . When I see thy soule descending , To that cool and sterrill plaine Of fond fooles , the Lake attending , You shall weare this wreath again , Then drink wine , and know the odds , 'Twixt that Lethe , 'twixt that Lethe , Twixt that Lethe , and the Gods 2. ●ouse thy dull and drowsie spirits , ● Behold the soule reviving streams , ●hat stupid Lovers brains inherits ; ●ought but dull and empty dreams . Think not those dismall trances , With our raptures can contend : The lad that laughs , and sings , and dances , May come sooner to his end . Sadness may some pitty move , Mirth and Courage vanquish Love. 3. Fye then on that cloudy fore-head Ope those vainly crossed armes , you may as well call back the buried , As raise Love by such dull charmes . Sacrifice a Glass of Claret , To each letter of her name , Gods themselves descend for it , Mortals must do more the same . If she come not in that flood , Sleep will come , and that 's as good . An Answer . 1. CAst that Ivy Garland from thee , Leave it for some ruder blade , Venus Wreathes will best become me , Not of blazing Bacchus made . When my high flown soule ascended , To Loves bright and warmer sphear ; Whilst with Chaplets I 'me attended , Then an Ivy bush shall weare . Sober Lovers some may prove , Mortals tipple , mortals tipple , Gods doe love . 2. Welcome merry melancholly , Fancying beauties quickning beames , Boone Companions will though jolly , Shrink in over wetting streames . Think not that these ranting humors , May with modesty contend ; Lesser love toyes often doe more , When they come unto their end . Purenesse may some pitty move , Sober carriage charme a Love. 3. Offer up a yoke of kisses , To the Lady you adore , Iove for such a bliss as this is , Would come down as heretofore . If this way she can't be had , Drinking comes , and that 's as bad . A SONG . 1. NO mans love firy passions can approve , As either yeilding pleasure & promotion , I like of milde and luke-warme zeale in Love , Although I do not like it in devotion . 2. For it hath no choherence in my Creed , To think that Lovers do as they pretend ; If all that say they dye , had died indeed , Sure long e're this , the world had had an end ▪ 3. Besides we need not love unless we please , No destiny can force mans disposition ; And how can any dye of that disease , Whereof himself may be his own Physitian ▪ 4. Some one perhaps with long Consumption dry'd And after falling into love may dye , But I dare pawn my life , he nere had died , Had he been half so sound at heart as I. 5. Another rather then incur the slander , O● true Apostate , will false Martyr prove ; But I am neither Orpheus nor Leander , He neither hang nor drown my self for love . 6. Yet I have been a Lover by report , And died for Love , as many others do , But thanks to Iove , is was in such a sort , That I reviv'd within an hour or two . 7. Thus have I liv'd , thus have I lov'd till now . And know no reason to repent me yet , And whosoever otherwise shall do , His courage is as little as his wit. A SONG . 1. DEare Castodoris let me rise , Aurora 'gins to jeer me , And say that I do wantonize , I prethee sweet lye neer me . 2. Let Red Aurora blush my deare , And Phoebus laughing follow , Thou only art Aurora here , Let me be thine Apollo . 3. It is to envy at thy bliss , That they do rise before us , Is there such hurt in this , or this , Nay , aye , why Castadoris . 4. What Arabella can one night Of wanton dalliance try you ? I could be ever , if I might , One hour let me desire you . 5. Nay fie , you hurt me , let me go , If you so roughly use me , What can I say , or think of you ? I prethee sweet excuse me . 6. Thy Beauty and thy Love defend , I should ungently move thee 'T is blisses sweet that I intend , It is not I that love thee ? 7. I do confess it is but then , Since you do so importune ; That I should once lie down agen , Vouchsafe to draw the Cur●aine ▪ 8. Aurora and Apollo too , May visit silent fields ; By our consent , they nere shall know , What bliss our pleasure yeilds . A North Countrey Song . 1. WHen I'se came first to London Town , I wor a Novice as other men are ; I thought the King had liv'd at the Crown , And the way to'l Heaven had been through the Starre . 2. I se set up my Horse , and Ise went to Pouls , Good Lord quo I , what a Kirk been here . Then Ise did sweare by all Kerson souls , It wor a mile long , or very near . 3. It wor as high as any Hill , A Hill , quo I , nay as a Mountaine , Then went Ise up with a very good will , But glad wor I to come down again . 4. For as I went up my head roe round , Then be it known to all Kerson people , A man is no little way fro the ground , When he 's o' th top of all Poles steeple 5. I se lay down my hot , and Ise went to pray , But wor not this a most pitious case , Afore I had don it wor stolen away , who 'd have thought theevs had been in that place ? 6. Now for my Hot Ise made great moan , A stander by unto me said , Thou didst not observe the Scripture aright , For thou mun a watcht , as well as a pray'd 7. Forth thence Ise went and I saw my Lord Major , Good lack what a sight was there to see , My Lord and his Horse were both of a haire , I could not tell which the Mare should be . 8. From thence to Westminster , I went , Where many a brave Lawyer I did see , Some of them had a bad intent , For there my purss was stolne from me . 9. To see the Tombes was my desire , I went with many brave fellowes store , I gave them a penny that was their hire , And he 's but a fool that will give any more . 10. Then through the roomes the fellow me led , Where all the sights were to be seen , And snuffling told me through the nose , What formerly the name of those had been , 11. Here lyes , quoth he , Henry the third ▪ Thou ly'st like a knave , he saies never a word , And here lies Richard the second inter'd , And here 's stands good King Edwards Sword. 12. Under this Chair lyes Iacobs stone , The very same stone lyes under the Chaire , A very good jest had Iacob but one , How got he so many Sons without a paire ? 13. I staid not there , but down with the tide I made great hast , and I went my way ; For I was to see the Lions beside , And the Parris-garden all in a day . 14. When Ise came there , I was in a rage , I rayl'd on him that kept the Beares , Instead of a Stake was suffered a Stage , And in Hunkes his house a crue of Players . 15. Then through the Brigg to the Tower Ise went ▪ With much adoe Ise entred in , And after a peny that I had spent , One with a loud voice did thus begin . 16. This Lion's the Kings , and that is the Queens , And this is the Princes that stands hereby , With that I went neer to look in the Den. Cods body , quoth he , why come you so nigh . 17. I se made great hast unto my Inne , I supt and I went to bed betimes Ise slept , and Ise dream't what I had seen , And wak't again by Cheapside Chimes Several complexions . SHall I woe thee lovely Molly , She is fair , fat , fine and Jolly , ●t she hath a trick of folly ; ●herefore I le have none of Molly , ●o no no , no no no , I 'le have none of Molly , ●o no no no no. ●hat say you to pritty Betty , ●ave you seen a Lass more pretty , ●ut her browes are alwaies swetty ; ●herefore I 'le have none of Betty , no no. When I wooed the lovely Dolly , ●hen she streight growes melancholly , ● that wench is pestilent holy ●herefore I 'le have none of Dolly , no no. When I kist my lovely Franckey , ●he makes curchie and saies I thankey , But her breath is to to rankey , Therefore I 'le none of Frankey , no no. ● commend brave minded Barby , Shee 'l stand me strike or stabby , But her wrists are alwaies Scabby , Therefore I will have none of Barby , no no. What say you to pretty Benny , She thinks good silver is her penny , For want of use she is senny , Therefore I will have none of Benny , no no. I could fancy pritty Nanny , But she has the love of many , And her self will not love any , Therefore I will have none of Nanny , no no. In a flax house I saw Rachel , As she her flax and tow did hachel , But her cheeks hunge like a Sachel , Therefore I 'le have none of Rachel , no no. When I met with lovely Nally , I was bold with her to dally , She lay down ere I said shally , Therefore I 'l have none of Nally , no no. O the Cherry lippes of Nelly They are smooth soft sweet as jelly But she has too big a belly Therefor I 'le have none of Nelly , no no. Shall I court the lovely Siby For she can finely dance the fy by But her tongue is to to clyby Therefore I 'le have none of Siby , no no , The careless Commander . SIng care away let us be glad , The King is willing we should dance ●e is not disloyal that will be sad , Or vext with fickel Chance , Boyes . ●et others sit at home and muse About some state and policy , Or haunt a broad for forraigne news ; It shall never trouble me , Boyes . What newes from Hollonds late arrived , What is the state of Iermany ; What of the conclaves are contrived , It shall never trouble me , Boyes . ●heard of the King of Swedlands death , But how he died I did not see ; ●nd how Portingall was bereft of breath That never troubled me , Boyes . When life had given the Palsgrave over , I knew it was a thing should be , ●nd that Lady Bessy should land at dover , That never troubled me , Boyes , Now where are all the summs were lent Now the last Royal subsitty ; When we shall have a Parliament , It shall never trouble me , Boyes . And how our City wives do love To feed upon variety ; When Maids of honour mothers prove , It shall never trouble me , Boyes . What Country man was George of green Or when the Knight of the Sun shall be ; Married to the Fary Queen , It shall never trouble me , Boyes . Who shall be foole when Archos dead , Or who Lord Mayor in 53 I were a foole it should be said , That that should trouble me , Boyes . My prayers shall be long live the King , He 's willing we should merry be ; As long as I can freely sing There 's nothing troubles me , Boyes . Sometimes 't is money that I lack , To pay my little doccious fee ; And to steepe my Careless braines in Sack , That only troubles me , Boyes . A SONG . YOu talke of old England but I do believe , Old England's grown new , & doth us deceive ●'le ask you a question , or two by your leave . And is not Old England grown new . Where are the brave Souldiers with wounds and , with scarres That never made swearing nor drinking , their warres Nor never shed blood in mad drunken jarres And is not &c. Where are the old Swords the bills and the bowes , The Targets & bucklers that never fear'd blowes , Thei 'r turned to stilettoas and other vain showes . And is not &c. New Captains are come which never did fight , But with pott in the day and punke in the Night , And all their care is to keep their Swords bright . And is not &c. Where is the brave Courtier which now he derides , With forty men blewcoates and footmen besides ●heir turn'd to six horses & six good Cow-hides . And is not &c. They have new fashion'd beards and new fas●●●on'd loc● And new fashion'd hats for new pated blocks , And more new diseases besides the French po● And is not &c. The Gallants and Taylors are half years togeth●● To fit a new suite to a new Cap and feather , And whether to make it of Cloath , Silke , or Le● the And is not &c. New tricking , new triming new measures , ne● pac● New heads for our men , for women new faces And twenty new tricks to mend thir bad cases . And is not &c. New tricks in the Law , new Leases new holds , New bodies we have , we hope for new soules , When our money 's laid out for the building● Poule● And is not &c. Where are the brave Clergy the true Churc● profe● And one only doctrine did ever protest , And hated th'Idolotry of the Papest . And is not &c. Indeed there are some that take a good course , Others there be that drink , whore and curse , And many Arminians are those that be worse . And is not , &c. Le ts say no more now of old England , New England is where old England did stand , New furnisht , new traded , new women'd new man'd And is not , &c. A SONG . THeir was a Joviall Pedler , And he cried Cony-skins And on his back he bore a pack Wherein was points and pinns , Lases and brases and many pretty things . Hay down hey down . Hay down down hey dery dery down . This Pedler never lines , ●ut still he cries so merry merrily , Maides have you any Cony-skins ●here were two Ioviall Sisters , ●hat in one house did dwell ; ●he one was called bony Kate , ●he other bouncing Nell : ●nd these two fair maides ●ad Cony-skines to sell , hay down . Kate pul'd forth her Cony-skines , From underneath the staires , T was as black as any gett , And never a Silver hair ; The Pedler would have fingered it , Rather then his eares , hay down . Nell pull'd forth her Cony-skine Clean of another hue , But t was as good as good may be And that the Pedler knew , The saucy Jack threw down his pack And forth his ware he drew ; Hay down . The Pedler he took up his pack And gan to go his way , The maidens called him back again Desiring him to stay , For they would show him Cony-skines A white one and a gray , hay down . I pray you fair maids To take no further care , For when that I come back again I 'le give you ware for ware , But you have all at this time That now I can well spare , hay down . ●'re forty weeks were gon and past , ●he maides began to say What 's come of this Pedler That used here every day , ●fear he hath beguiled us ●nd run another way , hay down . ●ut now these faire maides ●heir bellies began to swell , ●nd where to find the Pedler ●lack they could not tell ; Then they wish't that all fair maides No more Coney-skines would sell , hay down . Cuckolds all arow . NOt long agoe as all along I lay upon my bed Twixt sleeping and waking a toy came in my head Which caused me in mind to be my meaning for to show My skill and wit and then I writ , Cuckolds all arow . My thought I heard a man and 's wife as they together lay Being quite void of fear or strife , she thus to hi● did say Quoth she sweet heart if thou wilt sport my lo●● to thee I 'le sho● A pritty thing shall make thee sing , Cuckolds &c. Pease wife quoth he to her again I am shure tho● dost but jest Although I am cornuted plain , I am no comm●● bea●● Yet every womans like to thee for ought that 〈◊〉 do know And every man is like to me , Cuckolds all arow . Ther 's never a Lord nor Gentleman , nor Citisen nor Clown ▪ That lives within the City walls or in the Countrey Tow● But they may carry abroad with them hornesan● nere them blo●● For Galants are like other men , Cuckolds all aerow● The Country prating Lawyer that gets the Dive● and al● And pleadeth every Terme time within Westminster Hal● May have his wife in the Country for ought tha● I do know May let his Cliants have a fee , Cuckolds all arow , The traidsmen of the City now that sells by waite and measure , Perhaps may weare a horn'd brow for profit or for pleasure , Whilst they do sell their wares begin that bears , so brave a show , Their wives may play at in & in , Cuckolds all arow . The Parson of the parish I hope shall not go free Whilst he is in his study another man may be , A handling of his wife perhaps and do the thing you know And make him weare his corner cap , Cuckolds &c. If any one offended be and think I do them wrong In nameing of a Cuckold , in this my merry Song , Let him subscribe his name to me and eke his dwelling show , And he & I shall soon agree like Cuckolds all arow The long Vacation . NOw Town-wit saith to witty freind , Transcribe dear Rogue what thou hast pen'd For I one journey hold it fit , To cry thee up , to Countrey wit , Our Mules are come , desolve the Club , The word till Terme is , rub , oh rub ! Now gamesters poor , in Cloak of stammel , Mounted on Steed as slow as Cammel ; Bottom of Crab in luckless hand , Which serves for Bilboe and for Wand , Early int h ' morn doth sneak from Town , Lest Kit for rent should cease on Crown . One single Crown which he doth keep , When day is done to pray for sleep : For he on Journey nought doth eate , Host spies him come , cries Sir what meat ? He calles for Rome and down he lies , Quoth Host no supper : he cries , A pox on supper fling on Rug , I 'me sick , d' ee heare , yet bring a Jugg , Now Damsel yong that dwells in Cheap , For very joy begins to leap : Her Elbow small she often doth rub , Tickl'd with hope of sully bub . For Mother old that doth maintaine , Gold on thumb , Key on Silver chaine : In Snow white clout , wraps nook of Pie , Fat Capons rump , and Rabbits thigh ; And saith to Hackney Coachman go , There 's shillings six , say I or no : Whether quoth he ? quoth she thy teame Must drive to place where groweth Cream . But Husband Gray : now comes to stall , And for notcht Prentice he doth , call : Where 's Dame quoth he , quoth Son of Shop , She is gone her cake in milk to sop . Oh oh to Islington , enough : Call Tom my Son , and our dog Ruffe , For there in pond through mire and muck , Wee 'l cry hey Duck , hey Ruffe , hey Duck. Now bawd by mortifing paunch , ' Bates two stone weight on either haunch ; On Bran and Liver she must dine , 'Cause no man comes to solace Chine : For Bisket stald to fodder gut ▪ Makes lye on back the craving slut . The needy whore bids roaring swash , That pines ( in whiskers long ) fetch Cash , Ther 's Gown , quoth she : and Martha's smock , And coat that covered Andrew's nock : Speak Broaker faire , and tell him , that The next Termes tribute makes us fat . Now man of warr that wanteth food , Growes Colerick , and sweareth , ' Sbloud He sendeth note to man of kin , But man leaves word , I am not within . He meets int h ' street with freind call'd Will , And cries , you Rogue , what living still ? But ere that street they quite have past , He softly askes , what Money hast ? Quoth freind a Crown : ' S'heart Thou beast no more ? sweet lend me part . Now London Major in Saddle new , Rides into faire of Bartholmew : He twirles his Chain , and looketh big , As he would fright the head of Pig : Which gaping lies on greasy stall , Till female with huge belly call . Now Alderman in Field doth stand , With foot on trig , and quaite in hand . I 'me seaven quoth he , the game is up , Nothing I pay , and yet I sup . To Alderman , quoth neighbours then , I lost but Mutton , play'd for Hen ; But wealthy blade cryes out , at rate Of King thou ld'st play , let 's goe , 't is late . Now Levite that neer Bride-well dock , In old blind nook feeds silly flock : With common course , though spiritual , Fit food for blade that works on stall : These all with solemn Oath agree , To meet in Fields of Finsbury , With loynes in Canvas , Bow-case ty'd , Where Arrowes stick with mickle pride ; With hat pin'd up , and Bow in hand , All day so fiercely there they stand , Like Ghosts of Adam , Bell and Clim , Sol sets for fear they 'l shoot at him . Now Vaulter good , and Dauncing lass On Roap : and man that cries hey toss , And tumbler young that needs but stoop , Lay head to heel , and creep through hoop ; And man that doth in Chest include , Old Sodom and Gomora lewd ; And shews those drabs the sisters two , That Lot debauch'd , then made him doe ; And Man that while the Puppets play , Through nose expoundeth what they say : And Ape led Captive still in chaine , Till he renounce the Pope and Spain . And white Oate eater that doth dwell , In stable small , at sign of Bell. That lifts up hoof to shew the pranks , Taught by Magician styled Bankes . These all on hoof now trudge from town , To cheat poor turnup-eating Clown . Now spinne Ralph and Gregory small , And short hair'd Stephen , and white fac't Paul ; Whose times are out , Indentures torne , That full seaven years taught them not scorn To feth up Coales for maid to use , Wipe Mistress and children shoo 's ; Hire meager Steeds to ride and see Their Parents good : who dwell as neer As place cal'd Peake in Derby-shire ; There they alight , old Croanes are mild , Each weeps on Crag of pretty Child : They portions give , Trades up to set , That babes may live , serve God and cheat . Now Kit that trusts with weary thighs , Seeks Garret where small Poet lies : He comes to room , findes Garret shut , Then not with knuckle but with foot He roundly knocks : would enter door , The Poet sleeps not , but doth snore . Kit chafes like beast of Libia then , Sweares he 'l not come nor send agen . With little lump trianguler , Straight Poet sighs are heard a farr . Quoth he , can't noble numbers choose , But walk on foot that have no shooes ? Then doth he wish with fervent breath , As 't were his last request ere death . Each ow'd a Bond , each Madrigall , A Lease from Haberdashers Hall : Or else that he deriv'd had been , From Cod of King and nock of Queen , For wight enthroned cares , not an Ace For Wood-street freind , that Weeldech Mace. Kings pay no scores but when they list , And treasure still hath cramp in fist . Now wight that acts on stage of Bull , In Scullers barke doth lye at Hull : Which he for pennies two doth rig , All day on Thames to bob for Grig ; Whilst Fencer poor doth by him stand , In old dung Liter hook in hand . Between knees rod : with Canvas crib To girdle tyed , fast under rib ; Where wormes abide , that little Fish , Betray at night to Earthen dish . ●eer house of Lane by Temple Bar , Now man of Mace cares not how far . In s●ockings blew ) he marcheth on , ●ith Velvet Cape his Cloak upon , ●n Girdle scroule , where name of summe , ●s written down , which he with thumb , ●n shoulder left , must safe Convey , ● wing sad wight , with name of Roy. ●oore Prisoners freind that sees the touch , Cryes out , by God I thought as much . Now Poet small to Globe doth run ●nd vows to Heaven four acts are done , Finis to bring he doth protest : ●ells each aside his part is best : And all to get as Poets use , Minerall in pouch to comfort Muse : But stay , my frighted Muse is fled , My self through fear crept under bed ; For just as pen would scribble more , Fierce City Dun did rap at door . A SONG . 1. POx take you Mistris I 'le be gone , I have freinds to wait upon ; Think you I 'le my self confine , To your humours ( Lady mine . ) No , your louring seems to say : 'T is a rainy drinking day , To the Taverne I 'le away . 2. There have I a Mistress got , Cloystered in a Pottle pot : Brisk and sprightly as thine Eye , When thy richest glances fly , Plump AND bounding lively faire , Bucksome , soft and debonaire : And she 's call'd Sack my DEARE . 3. Sack 's my better Mistriss farr , Sack my onely beauty starre ; Whose rich beames , and glorious raie ; Twinkle in each red rose and face : ●hould I all her vertues show , Thou thy self wouldst love-sick prove , AND shee 'd prove thy Mistress TOO , 4. She with no dartscorne will blast me , But upon thy Bed can cast me ; Yet nere blush her self too red , Nor fear of loss of Maiden-head : And she can ( the truth to say ) Spirits into me convey , MORE then thou canst take AWAY . 5. Getting kisses here 's no toyle Here 's no Handkerchif to spoile ; Yet I better Nectar sip , Then dwel upon thy lip : And though mute and still she be , Quicker wit she brings to me , THEN e're I could finde in THEE . 6. ●f I go nere think to see , Any more a foole of me ; ●'le no liberty up give , Nor a Maudlin-like Love live . No , there 's nought shall win me to 't T is not all thy smiles can do 't , Nor my Maiden head - to BOOT . 7. Yet if thou 'lt but take the paine ; TO be good but once againe . If one smile then call me back , THOU shalt be that Lady Sack , Faith but try and thou shalt see , What a loving Soule I 'le be , WHEN I am Drunk with nought but thee . The Answer . 1. I Pray thee Drunkard get thee gone , Thy Mistresse Sack doth smell too strong : Think you I intend to wed , A sloven to be-piss my bed ? No , your staining mee 's to say , You have been drinking all this day , Goe , begon , away away . 2. Where you have your Mistress Sack , Which hath already spoil'd your back , And methinks should be to hot , To be cloystered in a pot . Though you say she is so faire , So lovely and so debonair , She is but of a yellow haire . 3. ●ack's awhore which burnes like fire , ●ack consumes and is a dryer ; And her waies do onely tend To bring men unto their end . ●hould I all her vices tell , Her rovings and her swearings fell , ●hou wouldst dam her into Hell. 4. ●ack with no durt scornes will blast thee , ●ut upon thy Bed still cast thee : ●nd by that impudence doth show , ●hat no vertue she doth know : ●or she will , the truth to say , ●hy body in an hour decay , More then I can in a day . 5. ●hough for kisses there 's no toyle , ●et your body She doth spoile : ●●pping Nectar whilst you sit , ●he doth quite besot your wit : ●hough she is mute shee 'l make you loud : ●rawl and fight in every crowd , ●hen your reason she doth clould . 6. Nor do thou ever look to see , Any more a smile from me , I 'le no liberty , nor signe , Which I truely may call mine . No , no slight shall win me to 't , 'T is not all thy parts can do 't , Thy Person nor thy Land to boot . 7. Yet if thou wilt take the paine , To be Sober once again , And but make much of my back , I will be in stead of Sack. Faith but try , and thou shalt see , What a loving Soul I 'le be , When thou art drunk with nought but me . I Had a Love and she was chast , Ala●k the more 's the pity , But wot you how my Love was chast , She was chast quite through the City Upon a Priest that lyes buried in Wells . A Priest there was of Wellis , Where was tinkled a great many Bellies , And in concordance , He plaid well on the Organce : And he was an excellent singer , And in the world not such a ringer . A SONG . WHen Vertue was a Countrey maid , And had no skill to ●et up trade , Was brought to Town by a Carriers jade , That stood at rack and manger : She took her Whiffe , she drank her Can , The Pipe was nere out of her span , She married a Tobacco man , A stranger . She set up a Shop in Honey lane , Whereto the flies did flock amaine , Some flew from France and some from Spaine , Brought by the English Pander . But when the Honey pot grew dry , And Winter came , the Flies must dye : Her Husband he was forst to flie From Flanders . A Scholers answer to one that sent to borrow his Horse . RIght Worshipfull Frank , I humbly thee thank , For the kindness received of late , Ingratitutde sure I cannot indure , 'T is a vice that I utterly hate . I hear you provide a journey to ride , If any would lend you a Gennit . I protest before God , mine 's all gone abroad , And won't be at home this sennight . But yet my kind Francis , if that it so chances , That a Horse you needs must hire . If your business be hasty , I 'le lend you my Masty ▪ To carry you out of the mire . 'T is a dainty fine cur , You need not him spur , If you his conditions but knew , For hee 'l prance and hee 'l gape , When he carries my Ape , Much more when he carries you . A SONG . 1. THere was an old Lad , rode on an old Pad , Unto an old punk a woing ; He laid the old punk , upon an old trunk , Oh there was good old doing . 2. There was an old maid , scarce sweet as they said , In a place I dare not make mention , She in an old humour lay with a Perfumer ▪ Oh there was a sweet invention . 3. The Punk and the Maid , they swear & they said , That Marriage was servillity ; If Marry you must , for changing of Lust , Oh well fare a trick of nullity . 4. There was a mad man did study to frame ● Device ▪ to draw up a prespuce , She drew up so narrow , a Car might go through , Oh there was a slender sluce . 5. Her Earle did appoint her , she said , such a Joi●●ture As was of no vallidity Above twise in a Night , he did her no right , Oh there was a strange frigidity . 6. But when as her Earle had another girle , His wimble did pierce her flanke , His Nag prov'd able , by changing of stable , Oh there was a quod ad hanc . 7. This dame was inspected , by fraud interjected ▪ held the candle A maid of more perfection , Whom the Midwives did handle , while the K nt Oh there was a clear inspection . 8. Now as forraign writers , cry out of their miters That allow this for a virginity , And talke of Election , and waul of Election ; Oh there was a sound Divinity . 9. There was a young Lord assumed on his word , That he would be a Parliament maker , But see how things alter , he assumed a halter , Oh there was an undertaker , 10. He had a sweet freind , which he did comend , To the keeping of sweet Sir Iarvis , They gave him a Clister , made his belly to bliste●● Oh there was a sweet piece of service . 11. ●his freind he denied , and would not abide , A Marrige that so would shame us , ●etween this sweet Matron , & this grave Patron ; Oh Patron of Ignoramus . 12. Now Weston and Horn , and Turner do turn , And say that this plot was fraude , These may say their pleasure , some think hard measure , Oh knaves , and Punkes , and Bawds . A SONG . THou Shephard whose intentive eye , On every Lambe is such a spie ; No willy foe can make them less Where may I find my Sheaperdess . A little pausing then said he , How can this Jewel stay from thee ? ●n Summers heat in winters cold , ● thought thy brest had been her folde . It is indeed the constant place , Wherein my thoughts still see her face , And print her Image in my heart , But yet my fond eyes crave a part . With that he smiling said I might , Of Cloaris party have a sight , And some of her perfections meet , In every flower that 's fresh and sweet . That growing Lilly weares her skin , The Violet her blew veines within , The Damaske Rose now blown and spread ; Her sweeter cheeks her lips as red . The winds that wanton with the Spring , Such Odors as her breathings bring But the resemblance of her eyes Was never found beneath the skies . Her charming voice who strives to fit His object , must be higher yet , For Heavens Earth and all we see Disperst collected is but she . A maide at this discourse methoughts , Love , both ambition in me wrought And made me covet to ingross A wealth , would prove a publick loss With that I sighth , ashamed to see , Such worth in her , such want in mee ; Closing both mine eyes forbid The world my sight since she was hid . A Song . To the Tune of Packingtons Pound . 1. MY masters and friends , and good people draw near , And look to your Purses , for that I do say ; And though little mony in them you do wear , It cost more to get , than to lose in a day : You oft have been told , Both the young and the old , And bidden beware of the Cut-purse so bold . Then if you take heed not , free me from this curse , Who both give you warning for , and the Cut-purse ; Youth , youth , thou hadst better been sterv'd by thy Nurse , Then live to be hanged for cutting a purse . 2. It hath been upbraided to men of my Trade , That oft-times we are the cause of this crime , Alack and for pity , why should it be said ? As if they regarded or places or time : Examples have been Of some that were seen In Westminster Hall , yea the Pleaders between ▪ Then why should the Judges be free from this curse , More than my poor self for cutting the purse ? Youth , youth , &c. 3. At Worcester 't is known well , and even i'th'Jayl , A Kt. of good worth did there shew his face , Against the frail sinner in rage for to rail , And lost ( ipso facto ) his purse in the place ; Nay ev'n from the seat Of Judgment so great , A Judge there did lose a fair purse of Velvet ; O Lord for thy mercy how wicked or worse , Are those that so venture their necks for a purse ! Youth , youth , &c. 4. At Playes and at Sermons , and at the Sessions , 'T is daily their practice such booty to make ; Yea under the Gallows , at Executions , They stick not , they stare about purses to take ; Nay one without Grace , At a better place , At Court and in Christmas before the Kings face . Alack then for pity , must I bear the curse , That onely belong to the cunning Cut-purse ? Youth , youth , &c. 5. But , O you vile nation of Cut-purses all , Relent and repent , and amend and be ●ound , And know that you ought not by honest mens fall , To advance your own fortunes , to dye above ground ; And though you go gay , In Silks as you may , It is not the high-way to Heaven ( as they say . ) Repent then , repent you , for better , for worse , And kiss not the Gallows for cutting a purse . Youth , youth , thou hadst better been sterv'd by thy nurse , Then live to be hanged for cutting a purse . To the Tune of I wail in wo , I plunge in pain : OR LABANDOLA shot . Verse 1. IN Cheapside famous for Gold and Plate , Quicksilver I did dwell of late : I had a master good and kind , That would have wrought me to his mind ; He bade me still work upon that , But alas ! I wrought I knew not what : He was a Touch-stone black but true , And told me still what would ensue ; Yet wo is me , I would not learn , I saw alas ! but covld not discern . Verse 2. I cast my Coat and Cap away , I went in Silks and Sattens gay ; False mettal of good manners I Did daily coyne unlawfully . I scorn'd my master being drunk , I kept my Gelding and my Punk , And with a Knight , Sir Flash by name , Who now is sorry for the same . Verse 3. Still Eastward-Hoe was all my word , But Westward I had no regard ; Nor ever thought what would come after , As did , alas ! his youngest Daughter . At last the black Oxe trod on my foot , I saw then what belong'd unto 't : Now cry I , Touch-stone , touch me still , And make me current by thy skill . Verse 4. O Manington thy stories show , Thou cut'st a Horse head off at a blow , But I confess I have not the force , For to cut off the head of a Horse . Yet I desire this grace to win , That I may cut off the Horse head of sin , And leave his body in the dust Of sins high-way , and bogs of lust : Whereby I may take Vertue 's purse , And live with her for better for worse . Verse 5. Farewel Cheapside , farewel sweet Trade , Of Goldsmiths all that never shall fade . Farewel dear Fellow-prentises all , And be you warned by my fall . Shun Usurers bonds , and Dice , and Drabs , Avoid them as you would French scabs . Seek not to go beyond your teacher , And cut your thongs unto your leather : So shall you thrive by little and little , Scape Tyburn , Counters , and the Spittle . A Song . 1. LAdies here I do present you With a dainty dish of fruit , The first it was a Poplin Pear , 'T was all the fruit the tree did bear ; You need not pare it any whit , But put it all in at a bit ; And being let a while to lye , 'T will melt , 't will melt , 't will melt most pleasantly . 2. The next in order you shall have A rich Potata and a brave , Which being laid unto the fire , God Cupid kindles to desire ; For when 't is baste , with little cost , 'T will baste it self when it is rost ; It needs no sugar nor no spice , 'T will please a stomach nere so nice , 'T will make a maid at midnight cry , It comes , it comes , it comes , it comes most pleasantly . 3. The next by lot as doth befall , Is two handfuls of Roundsefals ; Which Priamus the Garden god Made Venus eat within the Cod : You must not prune too much at first , For if you do tears out will burst , And being let a while to lye , 'T will drop , 't will drop , 't will drop , 't will drop most prettily . 4. The best of things in all the land , You shall have Mars his onely wand , Protecting of that pretty flower , Which comes and goes in half an hour , The flowers of vertue that do grow , Because they 'l please all women so : But when Mars draws back his wand , It lyes , it lyes , it lyes , and cries , and cannot stand . Upon the Burning of a Petty School . WHat heat of Learning kindled your desire You cursed sons to set your house on fire ? VVhat love of honour in your brests did turn Those sparks of fury into flames to burn ? Or was 't some higher cause ? were the hot gods Phoebus and Vulcan cold friends now at ods ? What er'e the Cause was , surely ill was th' intent When all the muses justly may lament ; But above all for names sake Polyhymy Bewails the downfall of that learned Chimny , Where you might see without or wit or sense Lay the sad ashes of an accidence . What numbers here of Nowns to wrack did go , As Domus , Liber , and as many moe , In woful case , no sex the flames did spare Each gender in this losse had common share ▪ There might you see the Rufull declinations Of 15. Pronouns and 4. Conjugations . Some Gerunds Di , but some Do overcome , And some with heat and smoak are quite strook dumb . Supines lay gasping upwards void of fences , The moods were mad to see imperfect tences , Adverbs of place threw down their lofty stories As ubi , ibi , illic , intus , foris , Conjugations so disjoyn as you would wonder , No coupling scarce but it was burnt asunder . The Praepositions knew not where to be , Each Interjection cry'd Heu ! woe is me . For the due joyning of the things again A Neighbour call'd qui mihi comes amain ; Else sure the fire had into flames so turn'd Gods , Men , Months , Rivers , Winds , and all had burn'd . Now 'gan the flames the Heteroclites to number , And poor supellex lost his plural number : Of verbs scarce had escaped one of twenty , Had there not been by chance As in presenti . T. R. Upon the fall of VVisbech Bridge . HElpe help you undertakers all , Whose purses are the stronger , Our bridge the falling sicknesse hath , For it can stand no longer . And come you cruel Watermen , And lend your help toth ' town , ' Its you I doubt that shot the bridge ; And so have thrown it down . What was the cause of this mischance There is a great confusion ; I saw by the water that he was Of a Crazy constitution . Some say th' enlarging of the streames Strook up the bridges heels . It was too much strong water sure That made him drunk and reel . And some do say , he fell because His feet had no good landing : I rather think the blockhead fell For want of understanding . Although our Country suffer losse And at this downfall grudges , It was the upstart-fluce that put Our aged bridge to 's Crutches . The Lords will have it built again Much longer then the other ; Introth I think it will be long Ere we have such another . But who shall build this stately piece There 's no man can suppose ; The Dutch man doubts the Lords do mean To make a bridge of 's nose . And some do say that Mr. Day Will give to it ten pound , But he reply'd ( by ) they lyed , He had rather see them drown'd . But let not Wisbech be dismaid , Nor at this losse complain ; For though our bridge a Bankrupt be VVe 'll set him up again . T. R. Upon the fall of the Miter in Cambridge . LAment Lament you schollers all , Each wear his blackest gown ; The miter that upheld your wits , Is now it self fallen down . The dismall fire on London bridge Can move no heart of mine , For that but ore the water stood But this stood ore the wine . It needs must melt each Christians heart That this sad newes but hears , To see how the poor hogs-heads wept Good Sack and Claret teares . The zealous students of that place Change of Religion fear , That this mischance may soon bring in The Heresie of Beer . Unhappy miter , I would know The cause of thy sad hap ; VVas it for making leggs too low To Pembrokes Cardinals cap ? Then know thy self , and cringe no more , Since Popery went down That cap should vaile to thee , for now The miter's next the Crown . Or was 't because our company Did not frequent the Cell As we were wont , to drown these cares , Thou fox'd thy self and fell ? No sure the Devil was adry And caus'd this fatal blow ; 'T was he that made this celler sink That he might drink below ; And some do say the Devil did it 'Cause he would drink up all , I rather think the Pope was drunk And let his miter fall . Poor Commoners to your great disgrace Yout want of skill acknowledge To let a Tavern fall that stood O' th' walls of your own Colledge . The Rose now withers , Falcon moults , VVhite Sam enjoyes his wishes The Dolphin now must cast his Crown , VVine was not made for fishes . This sign a Tavern best becomes , To shew who loves it best , The miter is the onely sign , For 't is the Schollers crest . Thou Sam drink Sack and chear thy self Be not dismay'd at all For we will drink it up again Though we do catch the fall , Wee l be thy workmen day and night In spite of Bug bear Proctors We drank like Frenchmen all before , But now we 'll drink like Doctors . T. R. A match at Cock-fighting . GOe you tame Gallants , you that have the name , And would accounted be cocks of the game ; That have brave spurs to shew for 't , and can crow , And count all dunghill breed that cannot shew Such painted plumes as yours , that thinkt no vice With cock-like lust to tread your cockatrice ; Though Peacocks , Woodcocks , Weathercocks you be , If y' are no fighting cocks y' are not for me . I of two feathered combatants will write ; He that to 'th life means to express their fight , Must make his Ink their bloud which they did spill , And from their dying wings borrow his quil : No sooner was the doubtfull people set , The matches made , and all that would had bet ; But straight the skilful Judges of the play Bring forth their sharp-heel'd warriours , and they Were both in linnen bags , as if 't was meet , Before they die to have had their winding sheet . With that i' th' pit they 're put , and when they were Both on their feet , the Norfolk Chantecleer Looks stoutly on his ne're before seen foe , And like a challenger begins to crow , And shake his wings , as that he did display His warlike colours , which were black and gray ; Meane while the wary Wisbech walks and breaths , His active body and in fury wreathes His comely crest , and often looking down He whets his angry beake upon the ground . With that they meet , not like that coward breed Of Esope ; these can better fight then feed . They scorn the dunghil , 't is their onely prize To dig for Pearls in each others eyes ; They fought so long that it was hard to know , To 'th skilful whether they did fight or no ; Had not the bloud which died the fatal floor , Borne witnesse of it , yet they fight the more , As that each wound were but a spur to prick Their fury forward , lightning not more quick Nor red then were their eyes ; 't is hard to know , VVhether it was bloud or anger made them so . And sure they had been out , had they not stood More safe by being fenced in with bloud : But still they fight ; But now alas at length , Although their courage be full tyr'd , their strength And bloud began to Ebbe , you that have seen A water combate on the Sea between Two angry boyling billowes , how They martch and meet , and dash their curled brow , Swelling like graves , as though they did intend To intombe each other ere the quarrel end : But when the wind is down , and blustring weather , They are made friends , and sweetly run together . Methinks these Champions such , their wind grown low , And they which leapt even now , now scarce can go . Their wings which lately at each blow they clapt , As if they did applaud themselves , they flap ; And having lost the advantage of the heel , Drunk with each others bloud they onely reele ; From both their eyes such drops of bloud did fall , As if they wept them for their funeral : And yet they fain would fight , they come so neer As if they meant into each others eare , To whisper death , and when they cannot rise , They lie and look blowes into each others eyes : But now the tragick part after the fight , VVhen Norfolk cock had got the best of it , And Wisbitch lay a dying , so that none Though sober but might venter seven to one , Contracting like a dying taper all His force , as meaning with that blow to fall , He struggles up , and having taken winde , Ventures a blow and strikes the other blind . And now poor Norfolk having lost his eyes , Fights onely guided by antipathies ; VVith him ( alas ) the Proverb holds too true , The blowes his eyes nere saw his heart must rue : At length by chance , he stumbling on his foe , Not having any strength to deal a blow ; He falls upon him with a wounded head , And made the conquerours wings his feather bed : VVhere lying sick , his friends were very chary Of him , and fetcht in haste the' apothecary : But still in vain , his body doth so blister , That it s not capable of any glister ; Wherefore at last opening his fainting bill , He call'd a Scrivener , and thus made his Will. Inprimis . Let it never be forgot , My body freely I bequeath to th'pot , Decently to be boild , and for its Tomb , Let it be buried in some hungry womb . Item . Executor I will have none , But he that on my side laid seven to one : And like a Gentleman that he may live , To him and to my heirs my Comb I give ; Together with my brains , that all may know That oftentimes his brains do use to crow . Item . It s my will to those weaker ones , Whose wives complain of them , I give my stones . To him that 's dull I do my spurs impart , And to the Coward I bequeath my heart : To Ladies that are light it is my will , My feathers should be given ; and for my bill , I 'de give to'a Taylor , but it s so short , That I 'm afraid he 'l rather curse me for 't . And for the worthy Doctors , they who meant To give me a Glister , let my Rump be sent : Lastly , because I feel my life decay , I yield and give to Wisbech cock the day . T. R. CLear is the air , and the morning is fair Fellow Huntsman come wind your horn ; Sweet is the breath , and fresh is the earth , That does melt the rinde from the thorn : The flowers wax bright with Apollo's light , Newly sprung from the Ocaean Queen ; Where on a forrest plain , may be seen a brave game , Right fit of a Prince to be seen . Fourteen couple truly counted , of hounds both good and trusty , And a troop of horsemen bravely mounted of coursers swift and lusty : Of Huntsmen so right , that clear were of sight , to shew the delight , the delight , So hoe , hoe ; so hoe , &c. there she sits . Then Coridon was frighted , his lambs they were so parted , To hear how they did shout , they hollow'd , and they hoopt , — Whilst Wat before them started . With halloe , halloe , halloe , halloe , halloe , halloe , with a halloe , cryed the louder ; The earth ne're bare a braver Hare , that ran more strong and prouder . Swift as a Roe she fairly hunts o're mountains , hills and dales , O're meadows , pastures , and o're fields , over layes and under rayles ; And then unto the hunt she gets , she winds the furrs and Plain , And here and there she runs six miles before she turns again . There might you see proud Strawberry run foaming hard to hold , And Peggabrigge with all her tricks , 't is pity she e're was old : Robin-red-breast and Shotten-herring amidst the jovial crew , Did top the hounds upon the Downs whilst Wat was in their view . Hark how the hounds , & the horns & the horns . & the hounds , & the huntsmen loud do hollow , Whilst Wat with nimble feet doth trip o're the Downs , o're the Downs , in all her follow : But Wat at the length shew'd them such a trick , That she made them all to stand and to stick , And to cry , Ioler , Ioler , so hoe , &c. Ioler there . So many men so many minds , so many dogs so many kinds : Some stood staring at the head , and some said she was forward fled : But one amongst them all , of judgment small , In faith he knew that she was dead ; For a shepherd crost the fields with his dog at his heels , That swore guds-nigs her bloud was spilt . Iuno then came back again , and compasse wide did go-a , To see if she could hit , and sit in the lands that lay below-a , There she try'd , and out she cry'd with mouth full deep and sweet-a , Which made them all on her to call , whilst Wat away did creep-a , Hark there Iuno , Iuno , so ho , so ho , &c. Iuno there . See , see , see where she goes , how she turns over , Iuno and Iupiter , Tinker and Troler , Sing-well and Merry-boy , Captain and Cryer , Gingwell and Gingle-bell , Fair-maid and Frier , Beauty and Bonny-lass , Tanner and Trouncer , Fomer and Forrester , Bomer and Bouncer , Gander and Gondemore , Ioler and Iumper , Tarquine and Tamberlain , Thunder and Thumper . Over the mountains , and under the vales , Over the fountains , and under the rails , Through the woods that are the thickest , Which the Silvans obey , O're the dikes that are the deepest , Puss will find out the way . But Wat grew faint and spent well nigh , A little ease for charity . Stop the dogs , stay the hounds , give her more breath , We will see all her tricks before her death . But Wat grew faint and could no longer run , Her strength was spent , her life was almost done ; And sitting down she sighing seem'd to say , Those whom I trusted did my trust betray . On the praise of Fat Men. LO , precious Rules are here made common , For health of either man or woman . If thou fat mortal fain wouldst be , With cheeks so plump for eyes to see : Know feeding hard , and drinking much , With sleeping long , will make you such . Cram thou until thou fartst at table , 'T will make thee fat as Jade i' th' stable . If thou thy Buttocks would have spread , Sit long after thou hast well fed ; 'T will make the Hanches large to grow , Through gown or breeches making show . If thou thy flesh wilt hold together , Walk not though it be fair weather ; All exercise forbear , for that But wastes and melts away the fat . You see when Bores for Brawn we feed , That they 're pend up in stigh indeed . Which makes their fat more firm and hard , Than is the greatest Bacon lard : So you the Dining-room may keep , To eat and drink in , shire and sleep . Your wiser Germans sit at meals So long till it runs down their heels , Nor do they think it any scorn , For what o'reflows , their rooms adorn . In camp you may find out his tent From other Nations by the sent ; For there the Pakings up of Rennish , Disturbs no stomach that is squemish . To eat and drink , to shire and spue , Is custom old , no fashion new . Your pills and potions are poor things To those more natural scowerings ; To see a mortal with large pode Disburden Colon of his load ; Or see one which eat apple-pye , Till she hath need to let it flye , Doth shew that all is right within , That sends forth pudding without skin , These are the natural conies that shew The feeding bodies ebbe and flow . For in the microcosm we All changes of the great world see , Let hungry wight forbear a meal , It makes him look like slinked Veal ; His belly thinks his throat is cut , And cramp begins to wring his gut ; He looketh blew under the eyes , And guts do wolf-like trade that lies In watry dike in Springs beginning ; Then have a care of empty sinning ; You never shall answer half so much To fill , as he shall that doth grutch To stuff his chitterlings so well , That they no tales of fasting tell . I heard rich mortal had a pig A present sent to him so big That he to eat it was unwilling , But strived to sell it for five shilling , The pig was sent him with the taile , But in the market that must fail , For there the mortal would not send it But in his family would spend it ; But bad his man to have a care To sel 't where he might have his share . The body of the pig was sold But powdring tub the tail did hold ; The powdring tub which had not seen So much as rump of goose so green In twice ten year ( tub true to say ) Would well have serv'd late priests to pray , Such as from Coblers stalls have crept , And in obedience Sisters kept . Their members all with due are spred To rub and chafe when they 're in bed . For after exercise in tub Their sisters cause their Priests to rub That they their teachers might restore For doctrine given in before . But leaving brother to expound Dark place and mystery profound , I now intend to bend discourse To mortal fat as pampred horse . They commonly that are so fat No parents are of wicked plot . Alas they onely do take care To keep their ribs from being bare , And that is done by exercise Of little bones beneath their eyes , Bones that will trundle a whole mile VVhile all the body rests the while ; Yet we have fools within our Nation Let strangers pull them out for fashion , Bones unto men of precious use , That squeeze all fat , all ripe to juyce , That man that truly loves his belly , To part with them is loth I tell ye ; He doth as highly prize those bones , As Ladies do those precious stones VVhich nature made not to adorn her So much as please her in a corner . These bones in English have name VVhich mounsieurs raised have to fame . A single one is called a tooth From whence tooth-drawer comes forsooth . But of tooth-drawers pray know this The French the most esteemed is ; He doth as much by touch of finger As figures do for figure flinger . But all the learned know that they Do but pretend to what they say . Your French-Tooth-drawer if you observe Looks as if he himself did sterve To fat his horse , which drew as much As mounsiers self doth by the touch ; For mounsiers horse whose hoofes are horns While he cures Teeth the Jade cures Cornes . I see a Porter who stood by To see mounsier draw's mouth awry And pull from well-grown Butchers gum A hollow Tooth bigger then 's thumb ; A Tooth I le warrant in time hath ground Of fly-blown beef , many a pound ; A Tooth had some well-minded Glutton But such a phang he 'd tue the mutton ; Porter that stood this sight to see Had come on too most certainly , The mounsiers horse as if jade knew The malady which on toe grew , Removed his foot and set it down Upon the toe of gazing clown ; Porter at tread of horse did squeak , But jade had gin his corn at tweak . Just as the Butchers money paid , The Porters cure of corn was made ; He needs must be rid of his corn , For toe from his foot was torn . When Porter begins to complain , Mounsier to spur his horse was fain , So rides away , sans all remorse , Bidding the Porter kisse his arse . Porter was lame , and could not follow , But aloud begins to hollow ; But we leave Porter for to howle , Till we return to our fat soul ; For this is quite against profession Of mine to make so large digression . But now , for rules before we eat , And how to chuse right battning meat , For spoon-meat , barly-broth and jelly , Very good is for the belly . For mornings draught your north-down-ale Will make you oylely as a Whale ; But he that will not out flesh wit Must at the good Canary sit ; For 't is a saying very fine Give me the fat mans wit in wine : For he 's as merry as wean'ling Pig That to the Hoggs-trough dances Jig . Your beef , your pork , your veal , your mutton So it be good as knife ere cut on ; Your pigs , your capons , turkies , conies , Your feeding wight thinks worth his monies ; But he whose longings to grow thicker , Must mingle with good meat good liquor . Your Brawn washt down with muskadine , Will make your cheeks look plump and fine ; If you would have a double chin Drink no small beer , for that 's too thin : For he that means to feed his chops high , Apt is to fall into a Dropsie . Therefore your high rich wines are fit T' augment the flesh and help the wit : 'T will make the buttocks firm as brawn , And skin as pure white as Lawne . Turn haunches up with Lady fine , And thy fat arse shall hers out-shine . Feeding and drinking , smooths the skin , And makes the plump one moist within . VVho feeds at Vespers and at Mattins Their skins as smooth and white as Sattins Nere dyed ; but we and from the pure Silk Of the dead worm ( whiter ) then Milk. As I of feeding much do treat , So rules I render after meat . VVhen thou from a full meal dost rise , Scummer and Urine if tho'rt wise : Then pipe of right Varinas take , For that doth swift digestion make . Then seat thy self in a great chair , And thing call'd tatling do forbear ; So shall you fall into sweet nap , Shall ease the burthen of your lap : That you no sooner shall awake , But you another meal may take ; Or have at least when you do rise Passage for dung between your thighs . Another precious rule scarce thought on By no means here must be forgotten ; All vermine which in bed doth creep , From thighs and privy members keep ; For rhey are creatures break the rest , And make men sleep when they should feast ; Leaving untoucht a wholesome cony , Which sweeter is to man then money . Take woman fat , with a black hair , With colour red , and skin that 's fair ; And turn her up , and you shall see Such a strong contrariety , Of her white thigh and curled black , That bordereth about her knack Shall please the skilful eye to see Of hues , such rare variety ; For there is black , and blew , and white , Ordained for young mans delight . I could speak more in praise of these Strong harbours for fat crabs and fleas ; But I must turn and wind my story To those by feeding gain their glory . And now should I all wild fowle name , That adde to lusty manchers frame ; I dazle should the readers eye To view the name of fowle that fly ; I will not write of Hern or Bittern VVhose claw transcends goose-quill or sittern ; Nor of the partridge , nor the pheasant , Meat scarcely known to chops of peasant ; Nor of the woodcock , nor the widgeon , Nor the often billing pigeon . Nor of the lark , nor the cock-sparrow Whose mettle melts away his marrow . I shall want room to write of fish , Which often is the fat mans dish ; Of which the sturgeon and the oyster That moveth holy Nun in Cloyster , And maketh ofttimes aged Fryar A little of that same desire . Oysters are of strong operation , Known to both Sexes of our Nation ; They 're fishes of such rare perfection , That they in flesh make an erection ; And give to mouths want teeth such strength That they 'le devour a whole yards length ; Such is keen appetite of nick , Although it be a handfull thick . I must not dwell on watry theame , For fear I 'm thought too full of phlegme : But now I something have to say , Of food that helps natures decay ; Of which the food springs from the earth Sutes best to those of humane birth . In Indies Eastern occident , There 's fruits that give the taste content . Some that have travelled speak of Planton , It makes men lusty , women wonton : But I believe our English skerrit To man or woman adds more spirit . But this is clearly my opinion , There breeds more sperme of leek and onion ; Some windy roots we have that swell The belly much , helps nere a dell To procreation , but they We mean to cast out of our way : Of which the turnip and the carot Will make some speak like Jay or Parrot . It was the judgement of wi●e Cato , That Parsnip did transcend Potato ; He swears that Parsnip more doth merit Then the aringo or the skerit : And yet the aringo we do see Our Ladies much perpetually , Which out of fellow-feeling they , Do to resist , and to obey . Iohannes de temporibus Who liv'd as long as three of us ; His dyet much was on the Parsnip , And he did love to give white arsnip : In commendations of that root , Said it made him ofttimes go tot . A modern writer , to the glory Of this brave root tells this true story ; Which if our Ladyes will not eat , Will serve to do another feat . The story was of a swart Spanyard Who seldom had a pendent whinyard ; But every night did claper-claw His wife , that she was almost raw ; She was so sore and full of pain , That she was forced to complain . The learned Judges of the Land Desir'd to take each thing in hand : But when the Judges understood , The matter was of flesh and bloud ; They for the learned Doctors call , Who straight appear'd in place call'd Hall : Woman that brought her husband thither , And was sore in mouth call'd nether Did blush to see the man in gown , Fearing the tale would through the town ; Which shortly afterwards it did , For which the woman oft was chid . The Doctors gravely , and in quiet , Ask't him of his usual dyet : He told them Parsnips was the meat VVhich he most usually did eat ; By which conjectur'd 't is by all , No root is more spermatical . But now to ease his sore wives pain , A month these roots he must refrain ; VVhich willingly my stout Don did , And changing food lay still in bed : But she before the month had end Presented Parsnips to her friend ; And then he fell to wonted work As feirce as a broad shouldred Turk . Since Parsnips such a batning thing That makes both man and woman cling , And stick as fast to one another As glued boards , why then plump brother Eschew not this so lusty food , Which both for flesh and pleasures good . Some slight the valour of the fat , And say they 're good for nought but chat : But I a story will unfold , Shall speak them hardy , stout and bold . Fat mortal into market comes , And spyed fat Eeles would oyle his gumms ; Then straight he hath a longing wish , To have those fat Eeles in his dish . So to the greesie wife that sold 'um , And on her short fat knees did hold 'um : He askt the price with greedy sense , She gripple wench said Eighteen pence : He in derision offered three ; So quarrel 'tween them grew to be . The peremptory Jade did rail , Her words did bruise like blows of flail ; But Pothecary having mettle , Removed her arse from off the settle : And made the whore that sold the Eele , The wait of hand on bare arse feel ; For he in market call'd Cheapside , Smote her blind face , sans nose , mouth-wide Belong'd to those unwashed cheeks , Where gardner might have planted leeks : But one thing more vexs Pothecary , To see the Fish-wives arse so hairy . But having thus his business done , Set down , the scold away did run : She to revenge this foul disgrace , Runs scolding after him apace . Poor man afrighted with the din , Beshit himself for fear of quean . The lane was narrow where he went , He stunck like alderman in tent ; The jade which seldom us'd to smell , But what from her own bunghole fell ; Left off the chace , it was so strong , And so returned with the wrong . And so I leave her to the scorn Of those at Bilingsgate , duckt each morn ; This for Land-service , which doth show Fat men their teeth for valour owe. Now for their sea , of which I 'le speak , What shall not shew their valour weak ; As horses in storm a ship doth poise , By his resisting waves that rise ; Let no fond man the truth deride , For horse doth make to th' rising side : So fat mans bunghole being open , Keeps saylors all from being a slopen . He stench abundant forth doth send , Making each boy stand to ropes end ; By which we finde it requisite Fat men aboard in storm do shite . He that at fun le ts out a peck Is a prime man to scoure a deck : Now for your female valour I Some rare examples shall descry . Let us look ore the water there , Where guts are carryed to the bear : I mean that London spoyling burrough , Which you to Kent must ride clean thorough Those that so treacherously let in Such mortals as make wealth a sin ; Which for their service late so rare , Shall have an asse for their new mayor ; But for the masters of their state In this discourse , I 'le not relate : The wenches with broad haunches I Intend in this place to descry ; Such whose large podes do roar as loud As wind doth in a tall ships shroud ; Their blasts are such as you with wonder , If not beheld , would swear were thunder . But when they rain and blow together , You never heard such stormy weather ; Such as will fright the wondering sense , And to the Nasus give offence . For like the touchhole of a gun , The sents perfumed from the sun : This for the virtue ; now the trade Of these sweet wives so roundly made ; Your neat panch clenser is a woman That spreadeth in the haunch most common . Your neat panch clenser is t●ipe-boyler , Which trade is a great finger-foyler . But these large wives with hubergums , Their tongues with railing bruise their gums ; And bones of armes in skin do rattle , When with their wenches they have battle : I could more instances recite Of womens valour when they fight , But now I mean to leave the theam , Of choler mixt with dirty fleam . Repeating something of fat Squire , Who alwayes shites when he 's in ire . The Officer of our wise Ward , Fat as a Bear or the Bearward , Which if you name but the word fight , Immediately it makes him shite . Let any man discharge a gun , And he as soon discharge's tun . It is his natural love to fighting , Makes him so prone and apt to shiteing . Nor altogether of their spleen , For all their choller is so keen ; Their loves do more abound than spite , And they do shew it when they shite . Fat man and wife together went To cleanse each others fundament ; For so well grown was either belly , They could not do 't themselves I tell ye . This I dare boldly say sans sinning , Shitten come shite is loves beginning , This further know , fat folks do scummer As much as Cows do give in Summer . And that must be a fruitful tail , That at one dunging fills a Pail . Nor is 't amiss that I recite The Parley they did use at shite : Dialogue . Kind words are worth a world of money : Qu. Dost thou piss love ? Ans. No , I shite hony . Such questions would the good man ask , When wife was troubled with the lask , For she when laskish shite so thin , It might have serv'd to shave a chin . Some think it needful to be sed Of love they used to shite in bed . Large panches did so shorten arme , Own privy members could not warme . Their Sausige-plumped fingers ends , But commonly like loving friends , In winter morning you may catch Her hand on — he fingring — Thus they do keep their fingers warm , Doing to neither any harm . Love in all ages was commended , And by Monarchy still defended . Fat people were the landed theams Of Iulius Caesar and King Iames. They keep their minds in such pure quiet , Which battens them as much as dyet . And now I leave the fat folks friends , Which musick maketh at both ends . For pode and throat they both extend , To make a sweet harmonious end . Ioane Easie got her a Nag and a Sledge , To the Privy-house for to slide , a The hole was be shit , That she could not sit , But did cack as she lay on her side : a She was not wind , For she sent forth a sound , Did stretch her fundament wide . a On the print of a Ladies foot , cut on the Leads of Kings Colledge Chappel , where before she had fallen . HEre once my Princess , when we first did meet , Made proud the Leads , and let them kisse her feet . They not contented with a part so small , Gave her a slip , and with that slip a fall ; So did they get the grace to kiss her hand , A better part than that whereon we stand . Bold saucy Leads , that ( as proud Coblers do ) Durst pass their bounds & touch above the shoe ; But why do I the Leads ambition blame ? Had I been they , I should have done the same ; Onely I would have melted at the meeting , And not have hurt her with so hard a greeting . But O! what name so bad by which to call Her servants negligence that let her fall ? Yet this excuse he hath , 't was rainy weather , And this his comfort , they fell both together ; Such falls before advancement I 'de prefer , And wish to fall again , so 't were with her . But see her triumph , where she fell before , Her foot stands now engrav'd , and slips no more , The conquer'd Leads in penance have received The print of that whose trust it once deceived : And wounded bears to all posterity The punishment of its disloyalty . A just requital , onely 't will be said , So rare a gemme should not be set in Lead . To a Lady commanding him to write a defiance to Love. DO I want torture then , that I Loves awful power must thus defie ? Or in old stories do you find , That Love is deaf as well as blind ? Or else do you resolve from hence , To non-plus my obedience ? Well then your own command doth move Me to blaspheme your self , and love . The Defiance . Once so foolish too was I , To doat on Natures vanity ; That trifle , woman , which they say , She made to pass the time away , When she had nothing else to do : ( And faith 't is very likely too ) O! I had a tedious fit Of love , methinks I feel it yet . I 'le swear it held me half an hour , But Cupid now I scorn thy power . Shew me in one Ladies eye Thy strength of thy artillery : Shew me a cheek where may be seen Thy sprightly wanton magazine , Shew me a lip that 's dyed in grain , With the hearts bloud of those 't 'as slain : Yet I have vowed I 'le never dye For that lip , or cheek , or eye . Shew me a neck , whose milky way Vie splendor with the King of day : Shew me a brest darts flames , although It self doth seem compos'd of snow : Shew me a belly so divine , Thou , though a god , wouldst make it thine : Yet Cupid , I the same dare tell ye , For all this neck , or breast , or belly , Shew me a thigh whose softnesse can , And whitenesse baffle Ledas Swan : Shew me a leg which would invite The strictest Hermite to delight ; Shew me a foot whose pretty shape Would make a Saint commit a rape ; Yet I have vow'd I le never dye , For that foot , or leg , or thigh . To a Lady on a fall , in which she had almost discovered more then all the World besides could shew . MAdam , pardon me , whilst I Repeat my happy misery , How the self same thing did cloy With excessive grief and joy . How cruel kind fate did me bless With fortunate unhappinesse . A wonder sure before unheard , The same thing should be wish't and fear'd . Who would not fear to see that fall ? Who would not wish there to see all ? 'T was such a sight , thus who but sees Doth blaspheme thee with his eyes . 'T was such a sight that hell defin'd , May truly be said to be blind . Cruel hands that were imploy'd , In a sin worse then a paricide . To keep that hid , which to have seen To total sum of blisse had been . This is my passion then I swore Those hands I 'le never kisse no more . This anger was true madnesse , I Had thus reveng'd your injury Upon my self , so I had been Tortur'd for what I thought your sin . You 'd use them better for to save Your self , then for to wound you slave . Since to hurt your self , to me Was the height of injury . But envy sure would never rest In so innocent a breast . 'T was court'sie made you so unkind , Lest those Letters should strike me blind Which your pure limbs unvaild display , ( Beams which disgrace the Prince of day . ) You thus in pity cheat my sight , And hide the dangerous delight . May he be blind that does not prize Such a sight above his eyes . You might have spar'd your pains to hear , 'T was a very needlesse care , ( When the steed 's stollen you shut the dore , ) Your eyes had struck me blind before . On a Knife that cut a Ladies finger . THe weapon Salve ( as some they say have found ) At distance heals , just so this knife doth wound ; For all that gash , I felt the greatest smart , Cutting your hand , Madam , you cut my heart . Then let me search my gall that I may see , What curses I can muster up for thee . May'st thou be alwayes more abhor'd by us , Than the keen knife of sister Atropos ; T' imploy thee may the basest beggar scorn , Unlesse to 〈◊〉 his nailes or cut his corn : Mayest the 〈◊〉 lost till thou art rusty , then By some me●●●●ick Butcher found agen ; And by him 〈◊〉 , onely for this intent , To rip up guts , and let out excrement : But why to curse thee do I keep this stir ? Briefly , mayest thou ne're more be us'd by Her. A Description of the miseries of a moneylesse Pocket . BBing me Raviliac who does defie All torments , with such gallant constancy ; And onely with one sudden oh ! complains , When they pour scalding oyle into his veines ; Let his stout heart but feel my pangs alone , An empty purse I 'le warrant makes him groane . Bring me a Stoick that sayes flat and plain , A wise man knows not so much thing as pain ; Let him alone to make him change hi●●ote , And swear a cut-purse worse then a●● throat . The pangs my mother did with m 〈…〉 ure , Were not so bad , as to want mo 〈…〉 ure ; I 'de wish , were I my enemy to n●sse , May his associate be an empty purse : Nor would I any greater crosses crave For him , than that he may not crosses have ; Then to see him I might most justly hope , Knight of the noble order of the rope . For you will find amongst that famous crue That make their wills of Hide-Park-corner , few , If you examine , but the reason why 'T was cause they wanted money they 'l reply : Nay I have tasted miseries far worse , The constant judgements of an empty purse . For if I come into a tavern , I Scarce from the Drawer get a by and by ; To trust one quart I cannot work on Will , Though I 'de pawn for it all Parnassus hill ; I offer'd too my horse , but he swore thus , I will not trust one pint on Pegasus : From thence to Clavels where I stand at door , And softly ask't Sue , hast thou e're a whore ? You speak sayes she , as if you had no money , Then with a pox I 'le help you to a cunny . If I by chance espye some old Comrade , He straight avoides , as if I had the plague ; And cause I ha'nt a token with such care , Shuns me as if I full of tokens were . Now say my rimes are dull , and you 'l say true ; And are not you as dull to read them too ? You might conclude before you read a bit , That he who money wants , must needs want wit. On a London Taylor who spoiled a Commencement Gown in the making . HOw is 't nine taylors make a man up , when One taylor is enough to mar nine men ? And more of women , for their large Vocation Acknowledgeth no bounds or limitation : Equal to Natures privilege , which shows Variety in our bodies , they in clothes : Nay more , a Badgers gate , a flaw or crack In any member , or a Lute-ca●e back ; Takes not so much from man , nor can deface him , So as an ill-cut garment can disgrace him . In the deep censuring judgments of gay Mutes , Who set upon the life and death of fuits ; If this be true , thou neither he nor she , In what manner hast thou injured me In spoyling of my Gown ? the neck too wide , Too long before , and then too short o' th' side ; My sleeves too small to laugh in ; then so high The wings start up , as if they meant to flye : Thus to be handled , thus for to be thum'd , It makes my Velvet fret , though never gum'd . But was my Gown cut in this uncouth guise ? And my Commencement-gown , when thousand eyes Were brought to gaze , and I to walk 'mongst those , Whose greatest part of brain lies in their clothes : Taylor , I will not damn or curse thee for 't ; Thou farest the better , but I wish a sort Of debtors fail , that thou full justly harm'd , As thou sit'st now cross-leg'd , mayst walk cross-arm'd . Many cross stitches mayest thou make , and meet Some Ruffians still to crosse thee in the street : Mayest thou still see thy self when thou shalt look In each thing cross'd , but in thy credit Book . And yet , if in sad silence of the night , Thou shalt be hunted by a merry spright ; I pray that drawing near thee he may find Crosses each part before but none behinde . Let Courtiers point a day , and coming then , Point thee another day to come agen ; Let fashions never change , let garments wear As long as Coriats shoes , or men go bear ; As in their better state , and women too , As some suppose , they are about to do . I cannot wish thee mischief in the wars , For thou art skil'd and prov'd in needle scars ; Yet let thine own goose press thee til thou faint , And though I never mean thou should'st be Saint : Let men invoke thy name , though then alone , When as their knife is strugling with a bone ; Farewell , and when thou bring'st thy long bill down , I 'le make 't as short as thou hast made my Gown . On a Bile . LEt others sing of heads , and some of cups , Of Mars , and Venus , and her after-claps ; I have a subject that gives me more matter , Than you , or I , or both , know how to utter . It is a Bile , what Epithete shall I Finde for to call so dull a creature by ? Shall I proclaim thee block-head ? and yet call Thee so , I can't , thou hast no head at all ; Could'st thou but get a head , and ripen faster , I would not break thy head , but add a plaister : Or shall I call thee coward , 'cause I find Thee alwayes in one place , and still behind ? Well , since thou art a coward , prethee play The cowards part , and quickly run away : Or shall I call thee ungrate , vexing me That brought thee up , and breeding gave to thee ? Yet prethee be not angry O my Bile ! Thou look'st to have bin praised all this while , Shall I commend thee then ? and so I will , Commend thee to the Surgeon and his skill . Reader forbear to frown or carp at least , For nought but corrupt matter here doth rest : Thus do I ease my paines , and when my bile Begins to rage , then I oppose my style ; Thus did that Roman Possidonius stout , And Scaliger did thus out-brave the gout . To a Gentlewoman from her formerly betrothed , but deserted servant , he being invited to the celebration of her Nuptials . WHy faire vow-breaker , hath thy sinne thought fit , I be the curst example of thy wit , As well as scorn ? Bad woman , did not I Deserve as much as quiet misery ? Be wise , and trouble not my suffering fit , For every sin I have repentance yet , Except for loving thee , do not thou presse My easie madnesse to a wretchednesse ; So high as that , lest I be driven so , As far from heaven as thou art , which I know Is not thine aime , for thou hast sinned to be , In place as in affection , far from me . Was I thy friend or kinsman ? had I ought ? What was familiar with thee saving thought ? A dream , some letters too that scattered lie , Neglected records of my misery ; I know no itch my silent sorrow moves , To beg a Bridal-kisse or paire of Gloves : Those are the lighter duties which they seek , Whose sleeps are found , & constant as the week Is in her course , and never felt the chance Of love amisse , but in a dream , or trance , And wak'd with gladnesse ; 't is not so with me , My days and nights are twins in misery . Bid me first catch the plague , wish me to be A witnesse to my mothers infamy ; Bespeak me to be sham'd , cause me to bring My self an Eunuch to a Gossiping . Upon record ; how desperate wer't thou bent T' invite me to a wedding Complement ? Should I come there when that the holy man , With his religious magick hath begun To tye thee from me , I might leap into A rage , and safely all your lives undoe : When heaven would be so courteous to disguise , The blood-shed with the name of sacrifice ; Silent as sorrows lodgings had I dwelt , Followed with my despair , and never felt Anger except in living , hadst thou bin Content with my undoing , but that 's sin . I never shall forgive thee to upbraide A wretchedness which thou thy self hast made : Heaven knows I suffered , and I suffered so , That by me 't was infallible to know How passive man is , Fate knew not a curse , But in thy new content to make it worse ; And that thou gav'st , when I so low was brought , That I knew nought but thee , and then I thought , And counted sighs and tears ; as if to scan The aire and water which composeth man ; Diseas'd I was , diseas'd , past thine own cure , Yet would'st thou kill what made me to endure : My patience , strange murderess , would you prove , Whether that were as mortal , as your love ? Have women such a way as they can give To men denial , and with love to live ? Why then abhor'd in reason tell me why , Successelesse Lovers do so quickly die ? And be it so with me ; but if a curse May first be fasten'd on thee which is worse Than thy unwept-for vow-breach , may it come , As thy sins heap , and may the tedious sum , Of thy great sins stand centinel to keep Repentance from thy thoughts breach ; may thy sleep Be broken as my hopes , 'bove all may he Thou chufest husband grow to jealousie ; Then find it true , and kill thee may the themes , On which thy thoughts do paraphrase in dreams . Be my sad wrongs , and when some other shall , Whom Fate with me hath made apocriphall In loving stories search and instance forth , To damn his mistress for as little worth ; Let thy name meet him , under which let be , A common place of womens perjury ; May heavens make all this true , and if thou pray Let God esteem it as thou didst the pay Of thy last promise ; I have said be free , This pennance done , my day of destiny By thee is antidated , but three sighs . First I must pay admission to the skies , One for my madness to love women so , That I could think thee true ; the next I 'le throw For wronged Lovers , that I 'le breath anew ; The last shall beg my curses be made true . The Royal Captive , or the Worlds Epitome . 1. HOw happy 's the prisoner that conquers his fates With silence , and nere on bad fortune complains ; But carelesly plays with his keys on the grates , And makes a sweet consort with thē & his chains . He drowns care with Sack when his heart is opprest ; And makes it to float like a Cork in his brest . Then since we 're all slaves that Highlanders be , And the land 's a large prison inclos'd with the sea , We 'l drink up the Ocean and set our selves free , For man is the worlds Epitome . 2. Let Tyrants wear purple deep dyed in the blond Of those they have slain their Scepters to sway , If our conscience be clear , and our title be good To the rags we have on us , we 're better than they . We drink down at night what we beg or can borrow , And sleep without plotting for more the next morrow . Then since we 're all , &c. 3. Let the Usurer look to his bags and his house , And guard that from robbers he has rak'd from his dettors ; Each mid-night cries thieves at the noise of a mouse : Then see if his bags are not bound in their feters . When once he is rich enough for a State-plot , Buff in one hour plunders what sixty years got . Then since we 're all , &c. 4. Come Drawer , and fills a peck of Canary , This brimmer shall bid all our senses good-night . When old Aristotle was frolick and merry VVith the juice of the grape , he turn'd stagerite . Copernicus once in a drunken fit found By the course of his brain that the world turn'd round . Then since we 're all , &c. 5. 'T is Sack makes our faces like Comets to shine , And gives beauty beyond the complexions mask . Diogenes was so in love with his wine , That when 't was all out , he dwelt in the Cask . He liv'd hy the sent of that wainscoated Room , And dying requested the Tub for his Tomb : Then since we 're all slaves that High-landers be , And the land 's a large prison inclos'd with the sea ; We 'l drink up the Ocean and set our selves free , For man is the worlds Epitome . The States New Coyn. 1. SAw you the States-mony new come from the Mint ? Some people do say it is wonderous fine ; And that you may read a great mystery in 't , Of mighty King Nol , the Lord of the Coyn. 2. They have quite omitted his politick head , His worshipful face , and his excellent Nose ; But the better to tempt the sisters to bed , They have fixed upon it the print of his Hose . 3. For , if they had set up his picture there , They needs must ha' crown'd him in Charles his stead ; But 't was cunningly done , that they did forbear , And rather would set up his Ar — than his head . 4. 'T is monstrous strange , and yet it is true , In this Reformation we should ha' such luck , That Crosses were alwayes disdained by you , Who before pull'd them down , should now set them up . 5. On this side they have circumscrib'd God with us , And in this stamp and coyn they confide ; Common-wealth on the other , by which we may guess That God and the States were not both of a side . 6. On this side they have a Cross and a Harp , And onely a Cross on the other set forth ; By which we may learn it falls to our part Two Crosses to have for one fit of mirth . 7. A Country-man hearing this , straight way did think , That he would procure such a piece of his own ; And knowing it like his wifes Butter-print , She should ha 't for a token when as he came home . 8. Then since that this is the Parliament coyn , Now Lilly by thy mysterious charms , Or Heralds , pray tell us if these ha' not been Carmen or Fidlers before by their Arms. The Brewer . 1. OF all the trades that ever I see , There 's none to the Brewer compared may be ; For so many several wayes works he , Which no body can deny . 2. A Brewer may put on a noble face , And come to the wars with such a grace , That he may obtain a Captains place ; Which no body , &c. 3. A Brewer may speak so learnedly well And raise strange stories for to tell , That he may become a Colonel ; Which no body , &c. 4. A Brewer may be a Parliament-man For so his knavery first began , And work the most cunning plots he can ; Which no body , &c. 5. A Brewer may be so bold a Hector That when he has drunk a cup of Nectar , He may become a Lord Protector ; Which no body , &c. 6. A Brewer may do all these things you see Without controul , nay he may be Lord-Chanceller of the University : Which no body , &c. 7. A Brewer may sit like a Fox in his cub And preach a Lecture out of a tub , And give the world a wicked rub ; Which no body , &c. 8. But here remaines the strangest thing How he about his plots did bring , That he should be Emperour above a King ; Which no body can deny , deny ; Which no body dares deny . The disloyal Timist . 1. NOw our holy wars are done , Betwixt the Father and the Son ; And since we have by righteous fate , Distrest a Monarch and his mate . And first their heirs fly into France To weep out their inheritance ; Let 's set open all our packs , Which contain ten thousand wracks ; Cast on the shore of the rea Sea Of Naseby , and of Newbery . If then you will come provided with gold , We dwell Close by hell , Where wee 'l fell What you will , That is ill ; For charity waxeth cold . 2. Hast thou done murther , or bloud spilt , We can soon get another name , That will keep thee from all blame : But be it still provided thus , That thou hast once been one of us ; Gold is the God that shall pardon the guilt , For we have What shall save Thee from th' grave ; Since the Law We can awe ; Although a famous Prince's bloud were spilt . 3. If a Church thou hast bereft Of its Plate , 't is holy-theft ; Or for zeal sake , if thou beest Prompted on to take a thief ; Gold is a sure prevailing advocate , Then come Bring a summe , Law is dumb : And submits , To our wits ; For it 's policy guides a State. The Resolute Royallist . 1. WHat though the ill times , Run cross to our wills ; And fortune still frowns upon us : Our hearts are our own , And shall be so still ; Then a fig for the plagues that light on us . 2. Let 's drink t'other cup To keep our hearts up , But let 't be the purest Canary ; For wee 'l never fear The crosses we bear , Let them plague us untill they be weary . 3. Wee 'l flatter and fear Those that over us are , And make them believe that we love them ; When their timing is past , We must carve them at last ; As they carv'd them that have been before them . 4. Let the Levite go preach For his Goose and his Pig , And drink wine at Christmas and Easter ; Let the Doctors give o're , Our lives to new Trig ; Wee 'l make nature fast , and wee 'l feast Her. 5. Let the Lawyer go ball Out his Lungs and his gall , For the the Plaintiffe , and for the Defendant ; At school the schollar lies Till like Flaccus he dies , With an ugly hard word at the end on 't . 6. Here 's a health to the man That delights in Sol-fa ; For Sack is his onely Rosin : A load of Hay ho Is not worth Ha , ha ! He 's a man for my money that draws in . 7. Then a pin for all muck , And a fig for ill-luck ; 'T is better to be blithe and frollique , Then to fight out our breath , Or to mould our own death ; By the Stone , the Gout , or the Collique . Cupid's Holy-day . LAdies , whose marble hearts despise Loves soft impressions , whose chast eyes Nere shot a glance but might be seen , Diana and her maiden teem Of Icy Virgins hence away , Disturb not our licentions play ; For now its Cupids Holy-day . Go glory in that empty name Of Virgin , let your idle flame Consume it self , while we enjoy Those pleasures which fair Venus boy Grant to those whose mingled thighs Are trophies of his victories , From whence new pleasures still arise . Those onely are admitted here , Whose looser thoughts nere knew of care Of mans imbraces , whose fair face Can give enjoyment such a grace , As wipes away that hated name Of lust , and calls their amorous flame A vertue free from fear or shame . With them we 'l number kisses till We pose Arithmetick , and fill Our hearts with pleasures , till it swells Beyond those bounds where blushing dwells . Then will we our selves intomb In those joyes which fill the womb , Till sleep possesseth Cupids room . At waking no repentance shall With our past sweetness mingle gall ; We 'l kisse again till we restore Our strength again to venture more : Then we 'l renew again our play , Admitting of no long delay , Till that we end our Holy-day . To his VVhore , who askt money of him . WHat is 't that fans my fancies thus ? So cool of late I 'm grown , Methinks I 'm not so rigorous , How quickly I lye alone ! Nor doth her absence with one sigh bemoan : Hence doth this chilness seize my back , This frost my bloud benumbe , When I to my Corina spake To yield to love , she ask't of me a sum , Would Cupid I had deaf been , or she dumb . Those glances I ador'd before , How do I now despise ? 'T is money onely makes a whore , She 's chast that with a thousand lies , For love , at such a one my members rise . Let Iove his Danaes enjoy , Nor envyed be for me . If e're Iane Shore my Mistresse cloy It shall be when I 'm old as he , Till then , I 'le ne're commit that Simony : If your affections pelf must imp , Go get another friend , My pocket ne're shall be my pimpe ; Nor will I for your love depend On dirt , yet no man shall more freely spend ; No , no , I will not rent your bed , Nor your smock tenant be ; I will not farm your white and red , You shall not let your — to me , I court a mistresse , not a Landlady . Judgement forbids me too ( my dear ) To keep thy love in pay , As hence it plainly doth appear ; Love's a little boy they say , And who but fools give children money pray ? Loves nakedness you do mistake , And hence proceeds your sin ; Which shews he will no money take , He hath no purse to put it in ; Then doe it freely , or for me go spin . The Captains Vagary . 1. Capit. PRethee Phil. art thou all steel , Let me feel , From the head unto the heel ? Wife . O my Docter Theodore Mayerne ; Hath me fill'd , Hath me fill'd , with steel and iron . 2. Capit. Sure 't was not her pale colour Made this stir , Nor the steel that troubled her , But the spleen and melancholly ; Cause she would , Cause she would not , Trolly lolly . 3. Surely now she will begin In the spring , Now the Birds do chirp and sing , For to purge her melancholly ; And play with , And play with , her Trolly lolly . 4. She no Cannon need to fear , Though she were Threatned to be storm'd each where : Let the Cannons roar and thunder , She 'l ne're start , She 'l ne're start , but she 'l lye under . Freeman . 1. SHe 's not the fairest of her name , Yet she acquires more than all her race , For she hath other features to inflame , Besides a lovely face : There 's wit and constancy , And charms that strike the soul more than the eye . 'T is no easie Lover Knows how to discover Such pure Divinity . 2. And yet she is an easie book VVrit in plain language for the meanest wit , A glorious out-side , and a stately look : Besides all justly fit , But age will undermine That glorious out-side that doth look so fine ; VVhen the common Lover Shrinks and gives her over , Then she 's onely mine . 3. To the Platonick that applies His sole addresses to the mind , The body but a temple signifies , VVherein the Saint's enshrin'd , To him it is all one , VVhether the wall be marble or rough stone : But in holy places , VVhich old Time defaces , More Devotion 's shown . Freemans Adieu to Love. 1. SUre 't was a dream , how long fond man have I Been fool'd into captivity ? My New-gate was my want of wit , I did my self commit , My bonds I knit : I mine own Gaoler was , the onely foe That did my freedom disallow : I was a prisoner 'cause I would be so . 2. But now I 'le shake my ponderous chains , and prove Opinion built the Gaoles of love ; Made all his bonds , gave him his bow , His bloudy arrows too , That murder so ; Nay , and those deaths which idle lovers dream Were all contriv'd to make a theam , For some carowzing Poet's drunken flame . 3. 'T was a fine life I liv'd , when I did dresse My self to court your peevishnesse ; When I did at your foot-stool lie Expecting from your eye , To live or die : Now smiles , or frownes , I care not which I have , Nay rather then I 'le be your slave , I 'le court the plague to send me to my grave . 4. Farewel those charms that did so long bewitch , Farewel that wanton youthful itch ; Farewel that treacherous blinking boy That profers seeming joy , So to destroy ; To all those night embraces , which as you Know very well were not a few ; For ever , evermore , I bid Adieu . 5. Now I can stand the sallies of your eyes , In vain are all those batteries , Nor can that love dissembling still Nor can that crafty smile , Longer beguile ; Nor those hard traps , which each hour you renew To all those witch-crafts and to you , For ever , evermore , I bid Adieu . Freeman . 1. FEar not my Genius to unfold Such silent thoughts as these , Let women born to be control'd , Receive them as they please ; For long usurped monarchy Hath made me hate such tyranny . 2. Let them and their magnetick charms , Like Harbingers before them ; Possesse the nselves with Cupid's arms , As baits for to adore them : I 'le nere commit Idolatry , On subjects born as well as I. 3. Their deities with them must fade , It cannot be deny'd ; And since those pretty things were made , Out of old Adam's side : We love them still , but know as thus , Because they are a part of us ; Then let it then suffice the Elves , To say we love them as our selves . The Antiplatonick . 1. FOnd love what dost thou mean , To court an idle folly ? Platonick love is nothing else , But meerly melancholy ; 'T is active love that makes us jolly . 2. To doat upon a face , Or court a sparkling eye ; Or to esteem a dimpled cheek Complete felicity , Is to betray one's Liberty . 3. Then pray be not so fond , Think you that women can Rest satisfied with complement , The frothy part of man ? No , no , they hate a Puritan . 4. They care not for your sighs , Nor your erected eyes : They hate to heare a man complain Alas ! he dies , he dies ; Believ 't they love a closer prize . 5. Then venter to embrace , 'T is but a smack or two ; I 'me confident no woman lives But sometimes she will do , The fault is not in her , but you . On the Souldiers walking in the New-Exbhange to affront the Ladies . I Le go no more to the New-Exchange There is no roome at all , It is so throng'd and crowed by The gallants of White-Hall ; But I 'le go to the Old Exchange Where old things were in fashion , For now the new's become the shop Of this blessed Reformation . Come my new Courtiers what d' ye lack , Good consciences if you do ; Here 's long and wide the onely wear , The strait will trouble you . You powdersellers here will thrive , No customers can you lack ; Onely resolve to change the dye , Your powder must be black ; And with you here , take my advice , Get Pistols stead of Puffes ; Instead of sweet-balls , bullets get , And gauntlet stead of muffes . Come my new Courtiers , &c. You that are Ribbon-sellers too , Your broken trades may patch , If you those guegawes can put off And barter them for match . You that fine Cabinets do sell , Your shops and ware may burn Her Ladyship hates all those toyes , A Snapsack serves her turn . Come my new Courtiers , &c. You that sell Books I pitty most , You are undone I see 't , Unlesse you will rebellion sell At a penny by the sheet : If so , you have a thriving trade , For customers go no further , For these bloud merchants at dear rates Engrosse all rape and murther . Come my new Courtiers , &c. Undone , undone Confectioners , Alas there is no hopes . Unlesse you will give o're your trades And set up Sutlers shops . Your Apricockes , your Ringo roots , Your Marmalad will not sell ; Get you conserves of bread and cheese . You 'l bear away the bell . Come my new Courtiers , what d' ye lack Good Consciences ? if you do , Here 's long and wide the onely weare , The strait will trouble you . Another . WHy should we not laugh and be jolly , Since all the World is mad ? And lull'd in a dull melancholly ; He that wallows in store Is still gaping for more , And that makes him as poor , As the wretch that nere any thing had . How mad is that damn'd money-monger ? That to purchase to him and his heirs , Growes shriviled with thirst and hunger ; While we that are bonny , Buy Sack with ready-money , And nere trouble the scriveners , nor Lawyers . Those guts that by scraping and toiling , Do swell their revenues so fast , Get nothing by all their turmoiling , But are markes of each taxe While they load their own backs VVith the heavier packs , And lie down gall'd and weary at last . VVhile we that do traffick in tipple , Can baffle the Gown and the Sword , VVhose jawes are so hungry and gripple ; VVe nere trouble our heads , VVith Indentures or Deeds , And our wills are compos'd in a word . Our money shall nere indite us , Nor drag us to Goldsmiths Hall , No Pirates not wracks can affright us ; VVe that have no estates , Fear no plunder nor rates , VVe can sleep with open gates , He that lies on the ground cannot fall . VVe laugh at those fools whose endeavours Do but fit them for Prisons and Fines , VVhen we that spend all are the savers ; For if thieves do break in , They go out empty agin , Nay the plunderers lose their designes . Then let us not think on to morrow , But tipple and laugh while we may To wash from our hearts all sorrow ; Those Cormorants which , Are troubled with an itch , To be mighty and rich , Do but toile for the wealth which they borrow . The Mayor of our town with his ruffe on , VVhat a pox is he better then we ? He must vale to the man with the buffe on ; Though he Custard may eat , And such lubbardly meat , Yet our Sack makes us merrier then he . The Horns . A Song . BRight Cynthia scorns alone to wear horns Unto her great grief and shame ; And swears by the light and the worlds despite , That men shall wear the same . The man in the Moon to hear this in a swoun , And quite out of his wits fell ; And feeling his front , quoth he , a pox on 't , My forehead begins to swell . Away straight he ròde in a Lunatick mood , And from his Mistress would run ; And swore in his heat , though he stood in a sweat He had rather go live in the sun . But he was well appeas'd that it other men pleas'd , For no man did mutter or mourn ; But without all affright and a great delight Did take to themselves the horn . The Lord he will go in his woods to and fro , Pursuing a Doe that is barren ; But while he 's in his Park , another in the dark May safely go hunt in his warren . The Citizen clown in his fur-faced Gown , And his doublet faced with ale ; Talks short but drinks thicker , while his wife like his liquor , Leaves working and relishes stale . Lo thus she behorns him , and afterward scorns him , Though he comes to be Mayor of the rout ; And holds it no sin to be occupied within , Whiles her husband is busied without . The Physician will ride to his Patient that dy'd Of no sickness but that did come ; But whilst abroad he doth kill with potion and pill , His wife takes a glister at home . The Lawyer to succour him with parchment and buckrum To London the next Term will ride , To open his case in his adversaries face , While his wife to his friend doth the like . Seven miles to and fro the professor will go To hear a sanctifi'd brother ; But while his zeal burns , his wife she up turns The whites of her eyes to another . The merchant he runs o're seas with his guns His mariners and his mates ; But whilst he doth please himself on the seas , Another may ride in his straits . The Souldier will go like a man to and fro , With a full resolution to fight ; While his wife with her friend , in her wanton arms pen'd , Doth make a boon boy before night . And although that he be well arm'd cap a pe , He must yield to a naked boyes scorn ; Or instead of bright Steel or Iron on his heel , Be content with a Helmet of horn . Thus each their wives love still , though they do prove Them to be false in their own sight ; But indeed you do well , the horn ( you can tell ) Was never a friend to the light . Pedegree . A Begger got a Bayliff , A Bayliff got a Yeoman , A Yeoman got a Prentice , A Prentice got a Freeman , A Freeman got a Master , And he begot a Tease , And so become a Gentleman , Then a Justice of Peace . This Justice got a daughter , And she is come to light , She stept unto the Court , And there she got a Knight , A Knight got a Lord , A Lord an Earl begot , An Earl got a Duke , This Duke he was a Scot. This Duke a Prince begot , A Prince of royal hope , He begot the Emperor , The Emperor got the Pope , The Pope got a Bastard , He was a noble spark , He lay with a Nun , And so begot a Clark. A Clark got a Sexton , A Sexton got a Vicar , A Vicar got a Parson , A Parson got a Vicar , And they were all made Prebends , And so they got a Dean , A Dean got a Bishop , A Bishop got a Quean . A Quean got five shillings , Five shillings got a smock , That got a Scotch prick , And there he got a pock . A Merchant got the pock , And set it in a Ring , And gave it to a Lady , That laid it to her thing . That gave it to her Page , That gave it to his master , That sent for the Surgeon , And laid to it a plaister . The plaister was too hot , It bred to him much pain , A nach was in his — And so this man — A Medley . 1. ROom for a gamester that plays at all he sees , Whose fickle faith is fram'd , Sir , to fit such times as these ; One that cryes Amen to ev'ry factious prayer , From Hugh Peters Pulpit to St. Peters Chair : One that can comply with Crosier and with Crown ; And yet can bouze A full carouze , While bottles tumble down , Dery down . 2. This is the way to trample without trembling , Since Sycophants onely secure ; Covenants and Oaths are badges of dissembling , 'T is the politique pulls down the pure : To plunder and pray , To protest , and betray Are the only ready wayes to be great , Flattering will do the feat . Ne're go , ne're stir Have ventred farther ; Then the greatest of our Damme's in the Town From a Copper to a Crown . 3. I am in an excellent humor now to think well , And I 'me in another humor now to drink well ; Fill us up a Beer-bowl boy , That we may drink it merrily : And let none other see Nor cause to understand , For if we do , 't is ten to one we are Trepand . 4. Come fill us up a brace of Quarts , VVhose Anagram is call'd true hearts ; If all were true as I would ha' them , And Britain were cur'd of its humor , Then I should very well like my fate , And drink off my wine at a freer rate Without any noise or rumor ; And then I should fix my humor . 5. But since 't is no such matter change your hue , I may cog , and flatter , so may you ; Religion Is a wigeon , And reason Is treason ; And he that hath a noble heart may bid the world Adieu . 6. We must be like the Scotish man , Who with intent to beat down schism Brought forth a Presbyterian ; A Canon and a Catechism . If Beuk won't do 't , then Iocky shoot , The Kirk of Scotland doth command ; And what hath bin since he come in , I am sure we ha cause to understand . Medley . 1. The Scot. I Am the bonny Scot Sir , My name is mickle Iohn ; 'T is I was in the plot Sir When first the wars began , I left the Court one thousand Six hundred forty one ; But since the flight At Worster fight We all are undone . I serv'd my Lord and Master When as he liv'd at home , Untill by sad disaster He receiv'd his doom ; But now we sink , Uds bred I think The Deel's gat in his room . He ne man spares But stamps and stairs At all Christendom . 2. I have travel'd mickle grounds , Since I came from Worster bounds ; I have gang'd the jolly rounds Of the neighbouring nations , And what their opinions are Of the Scotch and English war , In geed faith I sal declare , And their approbation . Iockie swears He has his load , Bears the rod Comes from God , And complaints go very odd Since the siege at Worster : VVe were wounded Tag and rag , Foot and leg , VVemb and crag ; Hark I hear the Dutchman bag , And begin to bluster . 3. The Dutch. Uds Sacraments sal Hoghen Moghen States Strike down der top sails unto puny Powers ; Ten towsand tun of Tivel Dammy Fates , If dat der ships and goods prove not all ours : Since dat bloot and wounds do delight dem , Tararara Trumpets sounds , Let Van Tromp go fort and fight dem ; All de States shall first be crown'd , English Skellam fight not on goat side , Out at last de Flemins beat Dey ha giv'n us sush a broad-side ; Dat ick sal be forc't to retreat , See de French-man he comes in complete . 4. The French. By Gat monsieur 'tis much in vain For Dushland , France , or Spain To crosse de English main ; De Nation now is grown so strong , De Divla er 't be long Must learna de same tongue . 'T is bettra den far to combine To sel dem wine , And teasha dem to make der Laty fine ; Wee 'l teash dem for to trip and minsh , To kick and winsh ; For by de swo●d we never sal convince , Since every Brewer dere can beat a Prince . 5. The Spaniard . What are de English to quarrel so prone , Dat dey cannot now adays let deir neighbour alone And sal de grave and de Catolique King , Before ever dus control'd wid a sword & a sling ; Sal bode de Indias be left unto desway , And purity a dose dat do plunder and pray : E're dat we will suffer such affronts for to be , Wee 'l tumble dem down , as you sal sennon see . 6. The Welch . Taffy was once a Cottamighty of Wales Put her Cosin O. P. was a Creater , Was come in her Country Catsspluttery nailes , Was take her welch hook and was peat her ; Was eat up her Sheese Her Tuck and her Geese , Her Pick , her Capon was ty for 't ; Ap Richard , ap Owen , ap Morgan , ap St●●en , Ap Sbinkin , ap Powel was fly for 't . 7. The Irish. O hone , O hone , poor Teg and shone O hone may howl and cry Saint Patrick help dy Country-men , Or fai● and trot we die ; De English steal our hoatt of of Usquebagh , Dey put us to de sword all in Dewguedagh : Help us St. Patrick we ha no Saint at all but dee , O let us cry no more , O hone , a cram , a cree ! 8. The English. A Crown , a Crown , make room The English man is come , Whose valour Is taller , Then all Christendom : The Spanish , French , and Dutch , S●oech , Welch , and Iris● grutch ; We fear not We care not , For we can deal with such . You thought when we began in a civil war to wast Our tillage Your pillage Should come home at last : For when we Could not agree , You thought to share in our fall ; But nere stir Sir For first Sir , We shall noose you all . Medley . 1. The English. LEt the Trumpets sound And the rocks rebound , Our English Natives comming ; Let the Nations swarm , And the Princes storm ; We value not their drumming . 'T is not France that looks so smug Old fashions still renewing , It is not the Spanish shrug , Scotish Cap , or Irish rug ; Nor the Dutch-mans double jug Can help what is ensuing ; Pray my masters look about , For something is a Brewing . 2. He that is a Favorite consulting with Fortune , If he grow not wiser , then he 's quite undone ; In a rifing creature we daily see certainly , He is a retreater that fails to go on : He that in a Builder's trade Stops e're the roof be made , By the aire he may be betray'd And overthrown : He that hath a race begun , And let 's the Goale be won ; He had better never run , But let t'alone . 3. Then plot rightly , March sightly , Shew your glittering arms brightly : Charge hightly , Fight sprightly ; Fortune gives renown . A right riser Will prize her , She makes all the world wiser ; Still try her , Wee 'l gain by her A Coffin or a Crown . 4. If the Dutchman or the Spaniard Come but to oppose us , We will thrust them up at the main-yard , If they do but but nose us : Hans , Hans , think upon thy sins , And then submit to Spain thy master ; For though now you look like friends , Yet he will never trust you after ; Drink , drink , give the Dutchman drink , And let the tap and kan run faster ; For faith , at the last I think A Brewer will become your master . 5. Let not poor Teg and Shone Vender from der houses , Lest dey be quite undone In der very Trowzes : And all der Orphans bestow'd under hatches , And made in London free der to cry matches ; St. Patrick wid his Harp do tun'd wid tru string Is not fit to untie St. Hewson's shoos-strings . 6. Methinks I hear The welch draw near , And from each lock a louse trops ; Ap Shon , ap LLoyd , Will spen'd her ploot , For to defend her mouse-traps : Mounted on her Kifflebagh With coot store of Koradagh , The Pritish war begins . With a hook her was over come her Pluck her to her , thrust her from her , By cot her was preak her shins . Let Ta●●y fret , And welch-hook whet , And troop up pettigrees ; We only tout Tey will stink us out , Wit Leeks and toasted Sheeze . 7. But Iockie now and Iinny comes , Our Brethren must approve on 't ; For pret a Cot dey beat der drums Onely to break de Couvenant . Dey bore Saint Andrew's Crosse , Till our army quite did rout dem , But when we put um to de losse De deal a Crosse about dem : The King and Couvenant they crave , Their cause must needs be further'd ; Although so many Kings they have Most barbarously , basely murther'd . 8. The French. The French-man he will give consent , Though he trickle in our veins ; That willingly VVe may agree , To a marriage with grapes and graines : He conquers us with kindness , And doth so far entrench , That fair , and wise , and young , and rich , Are finified by the French : He prettifies us with Feathers and Fans , VVith Petticoats , Doublets , and Hose ; And faith they shall Be welcome all If they forbear the nose . For love or for fear , Let Nations forbear ; If fortune exhibit a Crown , A coward he Must surely be , That will not put it on . To his Mistresse denying him to lie with her . HAte me dear soul , & say no more you love , If I must onely know what is above ; To kiss your lips and hands , these be but toys , And torments to a Lover , and not joyes . I hate the wanton folly of a kisse , If not a passage to a further blisse ; Men do seek mines in women , and if so , You must give leave to them to dig below : The barren face of earth , since natures arts , Hath hid such treasures in the lower parts : Why you so coy ? youl 'd fain be marryed Before that you would lose your maidenhead ; Then may I claim it as my right and due , The Law doth give it me ; it is not you . If you would have your kindness to be shown Bestow it freely while it is your own . Upon a Christmas Dinner in a Prison . HOld hoops and hinges , burst not I beseech Your ribs with laughing , at my hungry speech ; Hold fast , be sure with both your hands for fear Your sides should burst and spoile your hungry chear . Listen you Plum-broth Bolchins to the fate , Of a distressed prisoner , you that sate And lade your gorgeous mawes with stately chines , And lusty gamones , while poor virtue pines ; Feeding on nothing but thin contemplation And barren thoughts ; pity the sad relation Of the cold feast I kept on Christmas last , More justly may I call 't a solemn fast : When all your mouths in an united motion At meat , walk'd faster then at your devotion Of morning prayers ; I unthought of lay In a dark sullen Chamber , where the day Seem'd but a clear night ; nor could I get , To satisfie poor nature one small bit . It would have turn'd the stomack of a cook , With grief , to see how piteous I did look . The little animals did skip and trice About my musty Cell , there yelped mice ; Alas thought they , will no one us befriend , So much as with a Christmas Candles end ? Well fare the Chandlers wife , and may she bear Each year a Chub , we pray thee nature where The mid-wife leapes to see about the house , A Groaning-Cheese delivered of a mouse : These in my conscience if they could have spake , Had sung the lamentations for my sake , Though I deserv'd no love ; and for my part , I could have eaten them with all my heart . I wish'd my self a prisoner in the Tower , For its allowance sake for half an hour ; A Judges tongue , sopt in his greasie hand , Had been the choicest morsell in the Land. The picking of his teeth too had been rare ; But that so often lick'd with lyes they are . A tender Cou●tier , though scarce sound withall I could have swallowed up , cloaths , legs , and all ; But for a fear , grant pumpt and storm and wind This roguish bit I 'de eat , and had combin'd His carcasse still ; and swallowed whole the evil , Sending his soul the back-way to the devil : I do believe ( such was my hungers force ) I could have eaten my L. Mayors great horse . Thus well-nigh famish'd with conceit I lay , Striving to sleep , and so forget the day ; But I no sooner half asleep could be , But straight my entrails crok'd , and waken'd me : Silence quoth I , you chimes of Christmas noon , And be content to fast with me till soon ; It may be we shall sup , if not I 'le fill My belly with a dream , good guts be still ; But fortune unexpected to prevent Despair , afforded me a limb of Lent : Sure she had strange reason in preferring Before all meats a reverent red Hering . I 'm loath to tell thee plainly what it was , For fear your mouth should water as you pass And wrong this harmless paper by its side , Lay a neglected crust forth roughly dry'd ; That it had been sometimes mi●●ook by one , That rub'd his boots with 't for a pumy stone : Hard fare , be witness heaven , and my jawes That ak'd , and bled , most freely through the flawes The crust had made upon my tender gums , It scowr'd , I thought 't was sand , not white bread crums : This if you will believe a virtuous sinner , VVas my best fare , for my last Christmas dinner : I wish , not having known the like before , I may fare better next , or nere know more ; Sir , since my muse can make no better shift , My Christmas dinner be your next years gift . An Amorous Catch . 1. I See how unregarded now That piece of beauty passes , There was a time , when I did vow To thee alone ; but mark the fate of faces That red and white works now no more on me , Then if it could not charm , or I not see . 2. And yet the face continues good , And I have still desires ; And still the self-same flesh and bloud , As apt to melt , and suffer from those fires : O some kind power unriddle where it lies , VVhether my heart be faulty , or her eyes . 3. She every day her man doth kill , And I as often die ; Neither her power , nor my will VVhere lies the mystery ? Sure beauties Empire like to other states , Hath certain Periods set , and hidden fates . Another . 1. BOast not blind boy that I 'me thy prize , 'T was not thy dart ; But those that feather'd with her eyes , First strook my heart , Thy ill-tutor'd shaft and childish Bow On faintly , loving hearts bestow . 2. I vaunt my flames , and dare defie Those bug-bear fires ; That onely serve to terrifie Fools fond desires . Hold up to such thy painted flame As tremble , when they hear thy name . 3. My breast no fire , nor dart could pierce ; But holy flashes : Swifter then lightning , and more fierce Burnt mine to ashes . Come let them sleep in unknown rest , Since fate decreed their Urn , her brest . 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 : Or the Man-hater . 1. I Can love for an hour , when I 'me at leasure , He that loves half a day sins without measure ; Cupid come tell me , what art hath thy mother To make me love one face , more then another . 2. Men to be thought more wise daily endeavour , To make the world believe they can love ever ; Ladies believe them not , they will deceive you , For when they have their wills , then they will leave you . 3. Men cannot feast themselves with your sweet features , They love variety of charming creatures ; Too much of any thing sets them a cooling , Though they can do nothing they wil be fooling . Another Catch . YOu say you love me , and you swear it too ; But stay Sir 't will not do : I know your oaths , Just as your wearing cloaths ; Whil'st now , and fresh in fashion , But once grown old you lay them by Forgot like words were spoke in passion , I 'le not believe you , I. The Frollique . THere 's none but the glad-man , Compar'd to the mad-man , Whose heart is still empty of care : His fits and his fancies Are above all mischances , And mirth is his ordinary fare : Then be thou mad , And he mad ; Mad all let us be , There 's no men lead lives more merry than we . The Tinkers . 1. HA' you any work for a Tinker mistris ? Old brass , old bowles , old kettles , I 'le mend them all with a faradiddle-twang , And never harm your mettals . 2. But first let me taste a cup of your Ale , To steel me against cold weather , For Tinkers fees , are Vintners Lees , Or Tobacco choose you whether . 3. Then of your Ale , of your nappy Ale , I wish I had a firkin ; For I am old , and very , very cold ; Yet I never wore a Jerkin . The Toper . 1. HOld , hold thy nose to the pot Tom , Tom , And hold thy nose to the pot Tom , Tom ; 'T is thy pot , And my pot ; And my pot , And thy pot : Sing hold thy nose to the pot Tom , Tom. 2. 'T is malt that will cure thy maw Tom , And heal thy distempers in Autumn ; Felix quem facient I prethee be patient , Aliena pericula cautum . 3. Then hold thy nose to the pot Tom , Tom , Hold , hold thy nose to the pot Tom , Tom. There 's neither Parson , nor Vicar , But will tosse off his liquor , Sing hold thy nose to the pot Tom , Tom. Half mild , and half stale . 1. UNderneath the Castle-wall the Queen of love sate mourning , Tearing of her golden locks , her red-rose cheeks adorning ; With her Lilly white hands she smote her brest , And said she was forsaken ; With that the mountains they did skip , And the hills fell all a quaking . 2. Underneath the rotten hedge , the Tinker's wife fate shiting , Tearing of a Cabbidge leaf , her shitten Ar — a wiping ; With her cole-black hands she scratcht her Ar — And swore she was beshitten , With that the Pedlars all did skip , And the Fidlers fell a spitting . A Resolution not to marry . IF she be fair I fear the rest , If she be sweet I 'le hope the best , If she be fair they 'l say she 'l do , If she be foul she 'l do so too . If she be fair she 'l breed suspect , If she be foul she 'l breed neglect . If she be born o' th' bettet sort , Then she doth savour of the Court : If she be of the City born , She 'l give the City arms , the Horn. If she be born of parents base , I scorn her vertues for her place . If she be fair and witty too , I fear the harm her wit may do : If she be fair and do want wit , I love no beauty without it . In brief , be what she will , I 'm one That can love all , but will wed none . Another . 1. I Am resolv'd in my belief , No woman has a soul But to delude , that is the chief To which their fancies roul ; Else , why should my Aemilia fail , When she her faith had given : Since oaths , that either ears assail , Recorded are in Heaven . 2. But as the Chymists glowing fire Swels up his hope of prize , Untill the spirits quite expire , And so his fortune dies : So , though they seem to chirp and speak What we do most implore ; They but enflame us till we break , And never mind us more . Song . I Prethee sweet heart grant me my desire , For I 'm thrown as the old Proverb goes ; Out of the frying-pan into the fire , And there is none that will pity my woes ; Then hang or drown'd thy self my muse , For there is not a T. to chuse . Most maides prove coy of late , though they seem holyer , Yet I believe they are all of a kind ▪ Like will to like , quoth the Devil to the Collier ; They will prove true when the Devil is blind , Let no may yield to their desire ; For the burnt childe still dreads the fire . What though my love as white as a Dove is ? Yet you would say if you knew all within , That shitten come shites the beginning of Love is ; And for her favour I care not a pin ; No love of mine she e're shall be , Sir reverence of your company . Though her disdainfulness my heart hath cloven , Yet I am of so stately a mind , Nere to creep into her arse to bake in her oven : 'T is an old Proverb , that cat will to kind ; No , I will say untill I die , Farewel and behang'd , that 's twice god buy . Alas no rejoycing or comfort I can take , In her that regards not the worth of a lover , A T. is as good for a sow as a pancake : Swallow this Gudging , I 'le fish for another ; She nought regards my aking heart , Tell a mare a tale , and she 'l let a fart . I am as sure as my shooes are made of leather Without good advice , or fortunate helps We two shall never set our horses together , This is so like a Bear that is rob'd of her whelps ; Therefore of me it shall nere be said I have brought an old house upon my head . Fall back , fall edge , I never will bound be , To make a match with tag rag or longtale ; Best is best cheap if I miss not the naile ; Shall I toile gratis in their durt ? First they shall do as doth my shurt . Solicitation to a marryed Woman . THou dost deny me cause thou art a wife , Know she that 's marryed lives a single life That loves but one ; abhor the nuptial curse Ty'd thee to him , for better and for worse . Variety delights the active bloud , And women the more common the more good : As all goods are , their 's no adultery ; And marriage is the worst monopoly . The learned Roman Clergy admits none Of theirs to marry ; they love all , not one ; And every Nun can teach you 't is as meet , To change your bed-fellow , as smock or sheet : Say , would you be content onely to eat Mutton or Beef , and taste no other meat ? It would grow loathsome to you , and I know , You have two pallats , and the best below . Tom of Bedlam . FRom forth the Elizian fields A place of restlesse soules , Mad Maudlin is come , to seek her naked Tom , Hells fury she controules : The damned laugh to see her , Grim Pluto●colds ●colds and frets , Caron is glad to see poor Maudlin mad , And away his boat he gets : Through the Earth , through the Sea , through unknown iles Through the lofty skies Have I sought with sobs and cryes For my hungry mad Tom , and my naked sad Tom , Yet I know not whether he lives or dies . My plaints makes Satyrs civil , The Nimphs forget their singing ; The Fairies have left their gambal and their theft The plants and the trees their springing . Mighty Leviathan took a Consumption , Triton broke his Organ , Neptune despis'd the Ocean ; Flouds did leave their flowing , Churlish winds their blowing , And all to see poor Maudlins action . The Torrid Zone left burning , The Deities stood a striving , Despised Iove from Iuno took a glove , And strook down Ran from whistling . Mars for fear lay couching , Apollo's cap was fir'd ; Poor Charles his wain was thrown into the main , The nimble Post lay tir'd . Saturn , Damas , Vulcan , Venus , All lay husht and drunk , Hells fire through heaven was rim , Fates and men remorseless Hated our grief and ho●●sness , And yet not one could tell of Tom. Now whi●her shall I wander ? Or whi●her shall I flye ? The heavens do weep , the earth , the air , the deeps Are wearied with my cry . Let me up and steal the Trumpet That summons all to doom ; At one poor blast the Elements shall cast All creatures from her womb . Dyon with his Heptune , Death with destruction , Stormy clouds and weather , Shall call all souls together . Against I find my Tomkin I le provide a Pumkin , And we will both be blithe together . A Song . SIR Egley More that valiant Knight , With his fa-la , lanctre down dille ; He fetcht his sword and he went to fight With his fa-la , and his lanctre down dille ; As he went over hill and dale , All clothed in his coat of male , With his fa-la , his fa-la , and his lanctre down dille● A huge great Draggon leaps out of his den , With his Which had kill'd the Lord knows how many men , With his But when he saw Sir Egley More , Good lack had you seen how this Draggon did 〈◊〉 , With his This Draggon he had on a plaguy hide , With his Which could both sword and spear abide , With his He could not enter with hacks and cuts , VVhich vext the Knight to the heart bloud and guts ; VVith his All the trees in the wood did shake , VVith his Stars did tremble and man did quake , VVith his But had you seen how the birds lay peeping , T' would have made a mans heart to a fallen a weeping . VVith his , &c. But now it was too late to fear , VVith his For now it was come to ●ight dog , fight bear , VVith his And as a yawning he did fall , He thrust his sword in hilts and all . VVith his But now as the Knight in choller did burn , With his He ow'd the Dragon a shrew'd good turn ; With his In at his mouth his sword he bent , The hilt appeared at his fundament . VVith his Then the Dragon like a Coward began to fly VVith his Unto his Den that was hard by ; With his And there he laid him down and roar'd ; The Knight was vexed for his sword , With his The Sword it was a right good blade With his As ever Turk or Spaniard made ; With his I for my part do forsake it , And he that will fetch it , let him take it . With his , &c. When all this was done to the Ale-house he went With his And by and by his two pence he spent ; VVith his For he was so hot with tugging with the Dragon , That nothing could quench him but a whole Flagon . VVith his Now God preserve our King and Queen , VVith his And eke in London may be seen , VVith his As many Knights and as many more , And all so good as Sir Eglemore . VVith his , &c. Cupid and the Clown . AS Cupid took his bow and bolt Some birding for to find , He chanced on a Country Swain Which was some Yeomans hinde . Clown . VVell met fair boy , what sport abroad ? It is a goodly day ; The birds will ●it this frosty morn , You cannot chuse but s●ay . Go haste , why Sir ? your eyes be out , You will not bird I trow ; Alas go home , or else I think The birds will laugh at you . Cupid . VVhy man ? thou dost deceive thy self , Or else my mother lyes , VVho said although that I were blind , My arrowes might have eyes . Clown . VVhy then thy mother is a Voole , And thou art but an elfe , To let thy arrowes to have eyes , And go without thy self . Cup. Not ●o Sir Swain , but hold your peace , If I do take a shaft ; I 'le make thee know what I can do , VVith that the plough-man laught . The angry Cupid drew his bow , Clo. For God sake kill me not ; Cup. I 'le make thy Leather-head to crake . Clo. Nay childe be loath of that . The stinging arrow hot the mark , And pierc'd the silly soul ; You might know by his hollow eyes VVhether love had made the hole . And ●o the Clown went bleeding home , To stay it was no boot ; And knew that he could see to hi● , VVhich could not see to shoot . A Song . SIr Francis , Sir Francis , Sir Francis his son , Sir Robert and eke Sir William did come And eke the good Earl of Southampton March't on his way most gallantly ; And then the Queen began to speak : You are welcome home Sir Francis Drake ; Then came my Lord Chamberlain , and with his white staffe , And all people began for to laugh . The Queens Speech . Gallants all of British bloud , VVhy do not ye saile on th' Ocean flood ? I protest ye are not all worth a Philberd , Compared with Sir Humphrey Gilberd . The Queens Reason . For he walkt forth in a rainy day , To the new-found Land he took his way , With many a gallant fresh and green ; He never come home agen , God bless the Queen . A Song . O Thou that sleep'st like Pig in straw , Thou Lady dear , Arise , Arise , Arise , Hoping to keep thy son in awe , Thy little twinkling eyes . And having stretcht both leg and arme , Put on thy whiter smock ; And for to keep thy body warm , Thy Peticoat and Dock . The shops were open'd long ago , And youngest Prentise go ho hoes , To lay at 's Mistress chamber door His masters shining shoes . Arise , arise , why should you sleep , Since you have slept enough ? Long since French boyes cry'd Chimny-sweep , And Damsels Kitchin-stuff . A Song . NOne but my self my heart do keep , A● I on Cowslip bed did sleep , Near to a pleasant boge ; Where thou my pretty ●ogue , With Knuckles knocking at my breast , Did ask for my three-corner'd guest , And whisphering said as soft as voice might be , Come forth thou little rogue to me . A thousand thousand fiends as black as foot , With all their dirty damms to boot , Take thee , O take thee every day , For stealing I and my poor heart away . This heart of mine for joy did leap , And follow'd thee even step by step ; Till tired at the last , 't was thick , and plump , and round before , Weighing a full pound weight and more : And now it 's sunk unto the skin , And is no bigger than head of pin . A thousand thousand fiends as black as ●oot , With all their durty damms to boot . A Song . ANdrew and Maudlin , Rebecca and Will , Margret and Thomas , and Iocky and Mary Kate of the Kitchin , and Kit of the mill , Dick the plow-boy , and Ioan of the Dairy , To solace their lives and to sweeten their labor , They met on a time with a pipe and a tabor . Andrew was clothed in shepherds gray , And Will had put on his holiday-Jacket ; Beck had a Peticoat of Popinjay , And Meg had a Ribbond hung down to her placket ; Meg and Molly in frize , Tom and Iackie in leather , And so they began to foot it together . Their head and their arms about them they flang With all the might and the force that they had ; Their legs were like flails , and as loosly hang , For they cudgel'd their arses as if they 'd been mad ; Their faces did shine , and their fires did kindle , And here they did trip it and turn like a spindle . Andrew chuckt Maudlin under the chin , Simper she did like a Furmity-kettle ; The sound of her blober-lips made such a din As if her chops had been made of bell-mettle : Kate laughing heartily at the same smack , She presently answers it with a bum-crack . At no Whitson-ale was ever yet seen Such friskers and frekers as those lads and lasses ; The sweat it run down their face to be seen , And sure much more run down from their arses ; Nay , had you been there you might well have sworn , You had ne're beheld the like since you were born . Here they did fling and there they did hoyt , Here a hot breath , and there went a savour ; Here they did glance and there they did lout , Here they did simper and there they did slabor ; Here was a hand and there was a ●lacket , While their skirts and their breeches went a ●●●ket a flacket . The Dance being ended , they sweat and they stank , The maidens did smerk , and the young men did kiss 'um , Cakes and ale flew about , they clapt hands and they drunk , They laught and they giggl'd untill they bepist 'um , Thus every young man gave each a greene mantle , While their breasts and their bellies went a pintle-te pantle . The Ghost . 1. T Is late and cold , stir up the fire , Sit close , and draw the table nigher ; Be merry and drink wine that is old , A hearty medicine 'gainst the cold . 2. Your beds of wanton flesh the best , Come ye and tumble to your rest : I could well wish you wenches to , But I am dead and cannot do . 3. Call for the best till the house doth ring , Sack , VVhite , Claret , let them bring , And tope apace whilst breath you have , You I find but cold drink in the grave . 4. Partriges , Plovers for your dinner , And a Capon for the sinner , You shall have ready when you are up , And your horse shall have his sup . Welcom , welcom , shall flye round , And I will laugh though under ground . The Priests Anthem . DEus , deus meus , Alta luce vigilo , In veritatibus . There was a Fryer of the sconce , And he could not say his Skence , He laid the maid down upon suspence , O it was for little good ! His name was Little Sir Walter , And he could not say his Psalter , But stood quivering behind the altar , Yet Lord , how his man-Kellam stood ! Onus , unus , verbum omnibus . Fryer Thomas came to Ninus , Desiring her to do him a pleasure . O good Sir , quoth she , I 'le tell you most certainly , When you shall find me at leisure . Then he took her up in his armibus . And he carried her into a cornibus , At the farther end of all the Cloyster ; He laid her down upon her bum , Ovis , in nobis , profectum , And there he opened hed Oyster . The Huntsman . 1. OF all the sports the world doth yield , Give me a pack of hounds in field , Whose eccho sounds shrill through the sky , Makes Iove admire our harmony , And wish that he a mortal were , To see such pleasures we have here . 2. Some do delight in Masks and Playes , And in Diana's Holy dayes . Let Venus act her chiefest skill , If I dislike I 'le please my will ; And choose such as will last , And not to surfeit when I tast . 3. Then I will tell you a sent , Where many a horse was almost spent , In Chadwel Close a hare we found , That led us all a smoking round ; O're hedge and ditch away she goes , Admiring her approaching foes . 4. But when she felt her strength to waste , She parlyed with the hounds in haste . The Hare . You gentle dogs forbear to kill A harmless beast that ne'r did ill : And if your masters sport do crave ▪ I 'le lead a sent as they would have . 5. The Hounds . Away , away , thou art alone , Make haste we say , and get thee gone ; We 'l give thee leave for half a mile , To see if thou canst us beguile : But then expect a thundering cry , Made by us and our company . 6. The Hare . Then since you set my life so light , I 'le make Black lovely turn to white ; And York-shire Gray , that runs at all I 'le make him wish in his stall ; And Sorrel , he that seems to fly , I 'le make him sickly e're he die . 7. Let Burham Bay do what he can , And Barton Gray , which now and than Doth strive to winter up my way ; I 'le neither make him sit nor play . And constant Robin , though he lie At his advantage , what care I ? 8. But here Kit Bolton did me wrong , As I was running all along ; For with one pat he made me so , That I went reeling too and fro : Then , if I die your masters tell , That fool did ring my passing-Bell . 9. But if your masters pardon me , I 'le lead them all to Througabby ; Where constant Robin keeps a room To welcome all the Guests that come , To laugh , and quaff in Wine , and Beer A full C●rouze to their Career . 10. The Hounds . Away , away , since 't is our nature To kill thee , and no other creature , Our masters they do want a bit ; And thou wilt well become the spit : They eat the flesh , we pick the bone , Make haste we say , and get thee gone . 11. The Hare . Your masters may abate their chear , My meat is dry ; and Butter dear ; And if with me they 'de make a friend , They had better give a pudding's end : Besides once dead , then sport they 'l lack , And I must hang on the Huntsman's back . 12. The Hounds . Alas poor Hare we pity thee , If with our nature 't would agree , But all thy doubling shifts we fear Will not prevent thy death so near . Then make thy Will , for it may be that May save thee ; else , we know not what . 13. Then I do give my body free , Unto your masters courtesie ; And if they 'l spare till sport be scant , I 'le be their game , when they do want : But when I 'm dead each greedy hound Will trail my entrails on the ground . 14. VVere ever dogs so basely crost ? Our masters call us off so fast , That we the sent have almost lost ; And they themselves must lose the roast , VVherefore , kind Hare we pardon you : Thanks gentle Hounds , and so Adieu . The Reform'd University . DAme Learning of late is fled the Land , Foul befal her suitors all , That could in her way no longer stand . Diogenes come , seek up and down At noon bright , with lanthorne and light To see if she be hid under a Gown . Thus the whole University pry , From the grand Doctor to the small fry Peep here , and peep there , the devil a scholler you 'l spy . The freshman that before he has eaten , All to gabbles his Predicables , Breaks his fast upon butter'd Seaton : VVho when he comes home to his mother confut's her Talking bigger of casting a figure In conjuring Sophoms , made by his tutor . Thus the whole University pry , &c. The Soph when speech extempore makes , Thinks he flyes in the skies , When a jest in false Latin he makes : Then led in triumph to the Sack tuns Thinks it fit to be drunk in wit VVhilst a tilt the Philosopher runs . Thus through the whole University pry , &c. The Doctor that comes up with his man , Promising Nan to commence if he can , And to buy mistriss Doctress a Fan ; That his wife may sit above and go finer , His silver he spends , and his Latin ends Venturing far to deny the minor Thus through the whole University , &c. At his act he was sullen in the fight , And would not answer : yet anon , Sir He 'l invite you kindly at night ; Though the poor Knight be cast off his crupper , And shrewdly fears he has wrong'd your ears He 'l make your pallats amends at supper . Thus the whole University , &c. The Emperik that to kill do's his endeavour Whilst he framed diseased names Able to cast a man into a Feaver : When he comes to dispute in form and matter , Looking as pale as his Urinal Shakes his head as he were casting of water . Thus the whole University , &c. The Lawyer that comes up with his grace , Forgetting in hast his Latin is cast , And abus'd into a pitiful case ; Then vext't with Priscian will not faile ( Though the action be of Battery ) To break his head , and cut off his taile . Thus through the whole University , &c. The Schcoolman his time in Nonsence spends , Breaks his brain about Captain , Sweats to make Scotus and Thomas good friends Learnedly scolding with reason doth cuffe ; Without doubt of the truth is out And sans question is wise enough . Thus the whole University , &c. The School-Divine that troubles his sence , If created he were in Paradise : Whether Adam did eat it in innocence ; If the apple was par'd that was eat at the fall , What need they had of a taylors trade , What thread the fig-leaves were sowed withall . Thus the whole University , &c. The Preacher that with fury doth rush on The Pulpit , threats and all to beats The thred-bare conscience of the poo● cushion Who from a Coblers stall is driven , Soules to mend to th' everlasting end , And sets 'em upright in the way to heaven . Thus the whole University , &c. Against the Pope poor man he takes on , All Bellarmine thwacks ; till his head akes Scourging the VVhore of Babylon : The roast-meat suffers for the sinner ; Till folk devout with the glasse run out , Swearing 't is heresie to lose their dinner . Thus the whole University , &c. The Orator that is bound to wear Sattin With his tantum's , and his quantum's On Tullies head seizes a part of his Latin : VVith Rhetorick cringe , to Embassadors prate , In metaphor fine with trope divine ; VVith a high timber'd stile , and a stately gate . Thus the whole University , &c. And to the Chancellour makes a great face Swell'd in puff-paste of Eloquence vast : The phrases in Godwins Antiquities trace . With ale-conceit like a herring bloat , With a candi'd voice , and action choice , Like a Gentleman with a bur in his throat . Thus the whole University , &c. The Poet that with the nine muses lies , Till he betrays some bastard playes , And undoes the Colledge with Comedies Though he anew translate rhe Psalmes , Sings painted laies for holy dayes ; Abuses devotion in Epigrames . Thus the whole University , &c. The Schoolmaster that makes many a martyr , Boyes can teach , and to women preach , For his half Crown once in a quarter : He laies about like a Demi-God , Picking riches out of their breeches , With a construing face , and a piercing rod. Thus the whole University , &c. The Freshman is simple , the Soph too false , The Philosopher sad , the Poet mad ; The Physitian weak , the Lawyer false , The Orator cold , the Preacher too hot ; The master of the school , and 's man a fool , The Divine too curious , and Doctor a sot . Thus through the whole University pry , From the grand Doctor to the small fry , And peep here , and peep there , the devil a Scholler you 'l spy . The shiftlesse Student . IN a melancholly study , None but my self , Methought my muse grew muddy , After seven years reading , And costly breeding I felt but could find no pelfe . Into learned wrags I have rent my plush and satten , And now am fit to beg in Hebrew , Greek , and Latin ; Instead of Aristotle would I had got a pattent . Alas poor schollar ! whether wilt thou go ? Cambridge now I must leave thee And follow Fate , Colledge hopes deceive me ; I oft expected To have been elected , But desert is reprobate . Masters of Colledges have no common graces , And those that have fellowships have but common places , And those that schollers are , they must have handsome Faces . Alas , &c. I have bow'd , I have bended , And all in hope One day to be befriended ; I have preach'd , I have printed , VVhat e're I hinted To please our English Pope . I worshipt toward the East but the sun does now forsake me , I find that I am falling , the Northern winds do shake me ; VVould I had been upright , for bowing now will break me . Alas poor scholler , &c. At great preferment I aimed VVitnesse my silk , But now my hopes are mained ; I lookt lately To live most stately On a Dairy of Bell-ropes-milk . But now alas ! my self I must not flatter ; Bigamy of steeples is grown a hanging matter , Each man must have but one , and Curates will grow fatter . Alas , &c. Into some Country Village Thither will I go , VVhere neither tith , nor tillage The greedy Patron , And parch'd Matron Swear to the Church they owe. These if I can preach and pray too on a sudden And confute the Pope at adventures without studying . Then ten pound a year , besides a Sunday pudding . Alas , &c. All the arts I have skill in Divine and humane Are not worth a shilling : VVhen the women hear me , They do but jeere me , And say I am profane . Once I remember I preached with a weaver , I quoted Austine , he quoted Dod and Cleaver ; I nothing got , he got a cloake and beaver . Alas , &c. Ships , ships , ships , I discover Crossing the maine ; Shall I in , and over , Turn Jew or Atheist , Turk or Papist , To Geneva or Amsterdam ? Bishopricks are voiding , Scotland shall I thither ? Or follow Windebank , or Finch to see if either Do want a Priest to shrieve them ? O no 't is blustring weather ! Alas , &c. Ho , Ho , Ho , I have hit it , Peace goodman fool Thou hast a trade will fit it ; Draw thy Indenture , Be bound at adventure An aprentise to a free-school . There thou mayst command by William Lillys Charter ; There thou mayst whip , strip , hang and draw , and quarter ; And commit to the red rod , both Tom , and Will , and Arthur . I , I , 't is thither , thither will I go . The Townsmen's Petition to the King that Cambridge might be made a City . NOw scholers look unto it , For you will all be undone , For the last week you know it The townsmen rid to London . The mayor if that he thrives , Has promis'd on his word , The King a paire of knives If he 'l grant him a sword ; That he may put the Beadles down , And walk in worship here ; And kill all Schollers in the town , That thus do domineere . And then unto the Court They do themselves repaire , To make the King some sport , And all his Nobles there . He down upon his knee , Both he and they together ; A sword he cryes ( good King give me ) That I may cut a feather . There 's none at all I have at home VVill fit my hand I swear ; But one of yours will best be come A sword to domineere . These schollers keep such reaks , As makes us all afraid ; For if to them a townsman speak They will pull off his beard . But if your Grace such licence gives , Then let us all be dead ; If each of us had not as live He should pull off his head . They call us silly Dunkirks too , VVe know not why nor where ; All this they do , and more then this , Cause they will domineere . A speech , if I do make , That has much learning in 't ; A scholler comes and takes't And sets it out in print . We dare not touch them for our lives ; ( Good King have pity on us ) For first they play opon our wives , And then make Songs upon us . Would we had power to put , And turn on them the jeer ! Then we 'd do the best we could But we would domineere . They stand much on their wit , We know not what it is : But surely had we liked it , We had got some e're this . But since it will no better be , We are constrain'd to frame Petitions to your Majesty These witty ones to tame . A sword would scare them all ( I say ) And put them in great fear ; A sword therefore ( good King ) we pray , That we may domineere . Which if your Grace permits , VVee 'l make them look about 'um ; But yet they are such pleasant wits VVe cannot live without ' um . They have such pretty arguments To run upon our score ; They say fair words , and good intents Are worth twice as much more : And that a Clown is highly grac'd To sit a scholler near ; And thus we are like fools out-fac'd , And they do domineere . Now if you will renew , To us your Graces Charter ; Wee 'l give a ribbond blew To some Knight of the Garter : A cap also we want , And maintenance much more ; And yet these schollers brag and vaunt As if they had good store . But not a penny we can see , Save once in twice seven year ; They say it is no policy Dunkerks should domineere . Now reason , reason eryes alas ! Good Lordlings mark it well ; A scholler told me that it was A perfect parallel . Their case and ours so equal stands , As in a way-scale true ; A pound of Candles in each hand Will neither higher shew . Then prethee listen to my speech , As thou shalt after hear : And then I doubt it not ( my Liege ) But we shall domineere . Vice-chancellours they have , And we have mayors wise ; ( grave VVith Proctours , and with taskers Our Bailiffes we may seize . Their silver staves keep much adoe , Much more our silver Maces ; And so methinks our Sergeants too Their Beadle-squires out-faces . And if we had a sword I think , Along the street to bear ; T' would make the proudest of 'em shrink And we should domineere . They have Patrons of Nobility , And we have our partakers : They 'ave Doctors of Divinity , And we our basket-makers : Their heads are our brethren dear , Their Fellowes our housholders ; Shall match them , and we think to bear Them down by head and shoulders . A sword therefore good King , we pray That we may keep them there ; Since every dog must have his day , Let us once domineere . When they had made the King to laugh And see one kiss his hand , Then little mirth they make , as if His mind they understand . Avoid the room an Usher cryes , The King would private sup ; And so they all came down like fools As they before went up . They cry'd God blesse his Majesty , And then no doubt ( they sweare ) They 'le have the town made a City , And there to domineere . But wot you what the King did think , And what his meaning was ; I vow unto you by this drink A rare device he has . His Majesty has pen'd it , That they 'l be ne're the better ; And so he meanes to send it All in a Latin letter ; Which when it comes for to be read , It plainly will appear ; The townsmen they must hang the head , And the schollers must domineere . The draining of the Fennes . THe up-land people are full of thoughts , And do despair of after-rain ; Now the sun is rob'd of his mornings draughts They 're afraid they shall never have shower again . Then apace , apace drink , drink deep , drink deep , Whilst 't is to be had lets the liquor ply ; The drainers are up , and a coile they keep , And threaten to drain the Kingdom dry . Our smaller rivers are now dry land , The Eeles are turn'd to serpents there ; And if old father Thames play not the man Then farewel to all good English Beer . Then apace , apace drink , &c. The Dutchman hath a thirsty soul , Our Cellars are subject to his call : Let every man then lay hold on his boul 'T is pity the German-Sea should have all . Then apace , apace drink , &c. Our new Philosophers rob us of fire , And by reason do strive do maintaine that theft ; And now that the water begins to retire We shall shortly have never an Element left . Then apace , apace drink , &c. Why should we stay here then and perish with thirst ? To th' new world in the moon away let us goe ; For if the Dutch colony get thither first , 'T is a thousand to one but they 'l drain that too . Then apace , apace drink , &c. Non-sense . OH that my lungs could bleat like butter'd pease ! But bleating of my lungs hath caught the itch , And are as mangy as the Irish seas , That doth ingender wind-mills on a bitch . I grant that Rain-bows being lull'd asleep , Snort like a woodknife in a Ladies eyes ; Which makes her grieve to see a pudding creep , For creeping puddings onely please the wise . Not that a hard-roe'd Herring should presume To swing a tithe-pig in a Cat-skin purse ; For fear the hailstones which did fall at Rome , By lessening of the fault should make it worse . For 't is most certain winter wool-sacks grow From geese to swans , if men could keep them so , Till that the sheep-shorn Planets gave the hint To pickle Pancakes in Geneva print . Some men there were that did suppose the skye Was made of carbonado'd antidotes : But my opinion is , a whales left eye Need not be coyned all King - Harry-groats : The reason 's plain , for Charons western barge Running a-tilt at the Subjunctive mood , Beckned to Bednal-green , and gave him charge To fatten Pad-locks with Antartick food . The end will be the mill-pools must be laded , To fish for whitepots in a countrey dance ; So they that suffer'd wrong and were upbraded , Shall be made friends in a left-handed trance . In praise of Ale. WHenas the Chilly Rock once blows , And winter tells a heavy tale , When Pyes , and Daws , and Rooks , and Crows Sit cursing of the frosts and snows ; Then give me ale . Ale in Saxon Rumken then , Such as will make grim Malkin prate , Rouseth up valour in all men , Quickens the poets wit and pen , Despiseth fate . Ale that the absent battle fights , And frames the march of Swedish drums , Disputes the Princes laws and rights , And what is past and what 's to come , Tells mortal wights . Ale that the plow-mans heart up-keeps , And equals it with Tyrants thrones ; That wipes the eye that over-weeps , And lulls in soft and secure sleeps The weary'd bones . Grandchild of Ceres , Barley's daughter , Wine 's emulous neighbour , if but stale ; Ennobling all the Nymphs of water , And filling each mans heart with laughter . Ha , ha , give me ale . A Riddle of a Goosberry . THere is a bush fit for the nonce , That beareth pricks and precious stones , The fruit of which most Ladies pull ; 'T is round , and smooth , and plump , and full , It yields rare moisture , pure and thick , And seldom makes a Lady sick ; They put it in , and then they move it , Which makes it melt , and then they love it : So what was round , and plump , and hard , Grows lanck , and thin , and poor , and mar'd ; The sweetness suckt , their holes wipe they And throw the empty skin away . A Bull Prologue . YOu that do sitting stand to see our Play Which must this night be acted , here to day , Be silent pray , though you aloud do talk Stir not a foot , though up and down you walk ; For every silent noise the Players see Will make them mute , and speak full angerly ; But go not yet , untill you do depart And unto us your smiling frownes impart ; And we most thankless thankful will appear , And waite upon you home ; but yet stay here . Another Prologue . BE blithe Fobdodles ! for my author knows How to delight your eyes , your ears , your nose ; But first of all your eyes shall pleased be With cloth of Gold , Tyssue and Taffare : Blow but your nose , and purifie that sense , For you shall smell perfumes and franckincense And eke soft musick : therefore sit you still , Smile like the Lilly flower , whilst trumpets sound , And our endeavours with your love be ctown'd . An Epilogue upon the honest Lawyer . Gentlemen , HE that wrote this Play ne'er made Play before And if this like not , ne're will write Play more And so he bid me tell you . Loves Progresse . WHo ever loves , if he do not propose The right true end of love ; he 's one that goes To sea , for nothing but to make him sick , ●nd love 's a bear-whelp born , if over lick Our love ; and cause it new strange forms to take We erre ; and of a lump a monster make . Were not a Calf a mons●et , that was grown ●ac'd like a man , though better then his own . ●●●fection is in Unity , so prefer ●he woman first : and then one thing in her . ● where I value Gold , may think upon ●he purity , the application ; The wholesomness , the ingenuity ; From rust , from soil , from fire for ever free ; But if I love it , 't is because its made By ( our new nature ) use , the soul of trade : All this in women we might think upon , If women had them , and yet love but one . Can men more injure women than to say , They love for that , by which they are not they Makes vertue woman ? must I cool my bloud Till I both find and see one wise and good ? May barren angels love so : but if we Make love to woman , vertue is not she ; As beauty is not , nor wealth ; he that strayes thu● From her to hers is more adulterous , Than he that took her maid . Search every sphere And firmament , our Cupid is not there : He 's an infernal god , and under ground With Pluto dwells , where gold and fire abound Men to such gods their sacrificing coals , Laid not on altars , but in pits and holes . Although we see celestial bodies move Above the earth , the earth we till and love : So we her heirs contemplate , words and heart , And vertues , but we love the centrique part . Nor is the soul more worthy or more fit For love than that , as infinite as it . But in attaining this desired place , How much they erre that set out at the face ? The hair a forrest is of ambushes , Of springs , snares , fetters and manicles : The brow becalms us , when 't is smooth & plain , And when 't is wrinkled , shipwrecks us again : Smooth , 't is a Paradise , where we would have Immortal stay : and wrinkled , 't is our grave . The nose like to the first meridian runs , Not twixt an East and West , but twixt two suns : It leaves a cheek a rosie hemisphere On either side , and then directs us where Upon the Islands fortunate we fall , Not faint Canaries , but ambrosial , Her swelling lips : to which when we are come , We anchor there , and think our selves at home : For they sing all their Syrens songs , and there Wise Delphick Oracles do fill the ear : There in a creek , where chosen pearls do swell The remora , her cleaving tongue doth dwell . Those , and the promontary fair , her Chin O're past ; and the straight Hellespont between The Sestos and Abidos of her brests , ( Not of two lovers , but two loves she nests ) Succeeds a boundless sea , but that thine eye Some Island moles may scattered there discry : And sailing towards her India in that way , Shall at her fair Atlantick Navel stay : Though thence the torrent be thy Pilot made , Yet ere thou come where thou wouldst be imbay'd , Thou shalt upon another forrest set : Where many shipwreck , and no farther get . VVhen thou art there , consider well this chace Mispent , by the beginning at the face . Rather set on 't below ; practise my art , Some symitry the foot hath with that part Which thou dost seek , and is as map for that ; Lovely enough to stoop , but not stay at : Least subject to disguise and change it is ; Men say the Devil-never can change his : It is the embleme that hath figured Firmness , 't is the first part that comes to bed . Civility we see refin'd ; the kiss Which at the face begun , transplanted is Since to the hand , since to th' Imperial knee , Now at the Papal foot delights to be . If Kings think that the nearer way , and do Kiss from the foot , lovers may do so too . For as free Spheres move faster far than can Birds , whom the air resists ; so may that man Which goes the empty and aetherial wayes ; Than if at beauties elements he stayes . Rich Nature hath in women wisely made Two purses , and their mouths aversly laid : Thus they which to the lower tribute owe , That way which that Exchequer looks , must go : He which doth not , his error is as great ; As who by Glister gives the stomach meat . I. D. A Song . OF all Occupations that now aday is used , I would not be a butcher for he 's to be refused : For whatsoever is gotten , or whatsoever is gain'd , He shall be called kill Cow , and so he shall be nam'd ; Low quoth the Cow , Blea quoth the calf , he calls to his wife for a rope , He makes her pull till her heart doth break , For fear he would cut her throat . The Tinker . For he sits all day quaffing and turning over the boul , And goes about from house , to house , to stop the good wifes hole ; ●ing quoth the metal , sound quoth the kettle , He calls to his wife for a hammer , He goes about from town to town Most like a Rogue in manner . A Taylor . For he sits all day pricking and wearing of his bones , He thrusts his needle through the seames And kills nine lice at once ; Snap quoth the sheares , bounce quoth the board , He calls to his wife for an iron , He burns himself all in the hand As if he had been a Felon . A Shoomaker . For he sits all day whisking and drawing forth of his thred , His foot is alway in the stirrop , yet seldom doth he ride ; Whiffe quoth the whetstone , rap quoth the dresser He calls to his wife for thred : He plucks the brisles from off the hogs back , And all for very pure need . A Black-smith . For he shooes many horses , that are both wilde and tame , And often times doth catch a knock , and so the smith goes lame : Knor quoth the horse , gip quoth the smith , he calls to his wife to blow , He flings the fire about the house , 't will scar the Devil I trow ▪ A Cooper . For he sits all day hooping and mending of a barrel , So let the knave have drink enough , he cares for no apparell ; Squirt quoth the can , drunk was the man He calls to his wife for his addis To stop a hole in her boulting tub , for he looks like on that mad is . A Baker . For he sits all day a bunting and bending of his knee , And if his bread be too little weight , the Pillory is his fee. Away goes the Baker , up goeth the ladder In goes his head to the hole , And all because his bread wants weight , According to the tole . A Weaver . For he earnes his money hardly & many of them complain , The Clothier takes away the thrumes , which was the weavers gain ; Whur quoth the trickle , quish quoth the shuttle , he calls to his wife for quills , They knit many a knot , in a thred-bare coat full sore against their wills . A Laywer . For hee l tell you many prittle prattle , and many a pretty thing , And when he hath your money got , you may go pipe and sing ; Squirt quoth the ink , blur quoth the pen , he calls to his wife for paper , There is no man in all the land , that will so cog and flatter . A Semster . And of all occupations that ever came in my mind , I would not be a Semster although she be so fine ; For she sits all day sowing , and hanging down of her head , And oftentimes she steals a kiss , whilst better she would be sped : Snip quoth the Scissers , rent quoth the cloth , and still she hath an eye to the door , Her husband he may sing Cuckoo , for she will play the who there ? A Saylor . And of all occupations that ever yet was named , Saylors they be Gentlemen , for so they must be termed ; For they sail far and near their Countrey to advance , They sail against the foaming seas in danger of mischance : Hard blows the gales , down goes the sails , 't is too late to call to his wife ; They shut themselves upon the rocks in danger of their life . Beggar . And of all occupations Begging is the best , Whensoever he is weary he may lay him down to rest ; For howsoe're the world goes they never take any care ; And whatsoever they beg or get they spend it in good fare . Up goes the staff , down goes the wallet , To the alehouse they go with speed ; They spend many a pot , they care not for the shot , This is the best occupation indeed . This hath his doxy , another is almost foxy , They have still a peny to their need , They drink many a pot , they care not for the shot : This is the best trade indeed . With a hey down derry , they 'l be full merry , Though the marshal stand at the dore ; VVhen their money is done , they 'l have more before noon , Or drink upon the score . Ver. Who liveth so merrily in all this land , As doth the poor widow that sells her sand ? Cho. And ever she singeth as I can guess , Will you buy any sand , any sand , mistress ? Ver. The Brooman maketh his living most sweet , With carrying of brooms from street to street . Cho. Who would desire a pleasanter thing , Than all the day long to do nothing but sing ? Ver. The Chimney-sweeper all the long day , He singeth and sweepeth the soot away . Cho. Yet when he comes home although he be weary , With his prety sweet wife he maketh full merry . Ver. The Cobler he sits cobling till noon , And cobleth his shoes till they be done : Cho. Yet doth he not fear , and so doth say , His work will not last many a day . Ver. The merchant man he doth sail on the seas , And lies on the ship-board with little ease : Cho. For alwayes he doubts the rocks are near , how can he be merry and make good chear ? Ver. The husbandman all day goeth to plow , And when he comes home he servern his sow : Cho. He moileth and toileth all the long year , How can he be merry and make good chear ? Ver. The Serving-man waiteth from street to street , With blowing to his nails and beating his feet : Cho. And serveth for forty shillings a year , T is impossible , t is impossible to make good chear . Ver. Who liveth so merry and maketh such sport As those that be of the poorer sort ? Cho. The poorest sort wheresoever they be , They gather together by one , two and three . Bis. And every man will spend his peny , What makes such a shot amongst a great many ? Another . WIth an old mothy coat & a mamsey nose With an old thred-bare Jerkin rub'd out at elbowes , With an old dagger to scar away the crowes , With an old long sword all to be hackt with blowes : Cho. It was an old souldier of the Queens , Oh the Queens old souldier . With an old Gun and his Bandileers , With an old head-piece to keep warm his ears ; With an old pair of boots drawn on without hose Stuft full of old linnen rags , and broken out at toes . It was , &c. VVith an old pasport that never was read , VVhich in his great old travels had stood him in good stead VVith an old Quean to lie by his side VVhich in her time had been oldly Frenchified . It was the Queens , &c. VVith an old shirt that is grown to wrack , That with long-wearing it serves stinking old Jack ; VVith an old grown lowse , with a black-list on his back , That was able to carry an old pedler and his pack . It was the Queens , &c. VVith an old snap-sack made of a good calves skin , VVith an old Leathern skrip , tyed fast with an old cloak-bag string ; VVith an old Cap with a hole i' th' Crown , One side pind up , and the other hanging down . It was , &c. VVith an old greasie bufft Jerkin pointed down before , That his old great grandfather , at the siege at Bullin had wore ; VVith an old pair of breeches with a patch upon each knee : VVith two over-worn old pockets that will hold no money . It was the Queens , &c. VVith an old horse late come from St. Albons VVith I know not how many diseases most grievous ones , VVith an old pair of rusty Iron spurs VVith an old beat-begger in his hand to keep off the Curs . It was &c. This souldier would ride post to Bohemia to his foes , And swore by his valour e're he came again , would get better cloaths ; Or else he would lose both fingers , hands , and toes But when he takes this journey , there 's no man living knows . It was , &c. Another . IN Lancashire where I was born And many a Cuckold bred : I had not been marryed a quarter of a year , But the hornes grew out of my head . With hey the Io bent , with hey the toe bent , Sir Percy is under the Line ; God save the good Earl of Shrewsbury , For he is a good friend of mine . Doncaster Mayor he sits in a chair , His mills they merrily go , His nose doth shine with drinking of wine , The Gout is in his great toe . He that will fish for a Lancashire lasse At any time or tyde , Must bait his hook with a good egge pie ; And an apple with a red-side . He that gallops his horse on Bletstone edge , By chance may catch a fall , My Lord Mount Eagles Bears be dead , His Jack-an-Apes and all . At Scripton in Craven there 's never a haven , Yet many a time foul weather ; He that will not lie a fair woman by , I wish he were hang'd in leather . My Lady hath lost her left leg hose So hath She done both her shoone ; Shee 'l earn her break-fast before she do rise , Shee 'l lie in bed else till it be noon . Ioan Moultons crosse it makes no force , Though many a Cuckold go by ; Let many a man do all that he can , Yet a Cuckold he shall die . The good wife of the Swan hath a leg like a man , Full well it becomes her hose ; She jets it apace with a very good grace , But falleth back at the first close . The Prior of Courtree made a great pudding-pie , His Monkes cryed meat for a King ; If the Abbot of Chester do die before Easter Then Banbury Bells must Ring . He that will a welch-man catch , Must watch when the wind is in the South ; And put in a net a good piece of roast-cheese , And hang it close to his mouth . And Lancashire if thou be true , As ever thou hast been ; Go sell thy old whittel and by thee a new fiddle , And sing God save the Queen . Towl the Bell. TOwl , towl gentle Bell for a soul , Killing care doth controul , and my mind so oppress ; That I fear I shall die , for a glance of that eye That so lately did fly like a Comet from the skie Or some great Deity : But my wish is in vain , I shall ne're see 't again . When I in the Temple did spie This Divine Purity , on her knees to her Saint . Oh she look't so divine , all her beauties did shine Far more fairer then her shrine , faith I wish she had been mine Where my heart could resign : And would powerfully prove , no Religion like love . Fair , fair , and as chast as the aire Holy Nuns breathing prayer was this Votress divine , From each eye dropt a tear , like the Pearles Violets were , When the spring doth appear for to usher in the year : But I dare safely swear , Those teares trickle down for no sins of her own . But now increaseth my woe , I by no means must know where this beauty doth dwell , All her rites being done to her Lady and her Son ; I was left all alone , and my Saint was from me gone And to heaven she is flown : Which makes me to say , I shall scarce live a day . Now I will make haste and die , And ascend to the skie where I know shee 's inthron'd . All ye Ladies adieu , be your loves false or true ; I am going to view , one that far transcends all you , One that I never knew : But must sigh out my breath , for acquaintance in death . The Answer to Towl . RIng , Ring , merry Bells while we sing Drinking healths to our King ; And our minds are advanc't . Le ts never fear to die , till we have drunk out each eye , But let cash and cares fly free as hail-stones from the skie ; Baccus great Deity : Let us never wish in vain , fill the pots George again . When we in the Tavern do see , Such fare boon Company ; On their knees drinking healths . O we look most divine , when our noses did shine : Well ballast with good wine , faith I wish the cup were mine VVhich to thee I 'le resign , And will palpable prove by the drinking to thy Love. Free , free , as the air let us be , VVee 'l respect no degree ; But our births all a like . From no eye drop a tear , least you Maudlin appear , And next morning do fear to be Physick't with small Beer VVhich I dare boldly swear , If tears trickle down , 't is our loves to the Crown . Now we must make haste and see , How much money will free All our hands from the bar . For a time boyes adien , I am going for to view , VVhat belongs to all you , be the reckoning false or true , Though it be more then dew , Yet my breath will I spend , and my purse for my friend . The jolly Shepherd . THe life of a Shepherd is void of all care-a , With his bag and his bottle he maketh good fare-a , He rus●les , he shusfles in all extreme wind-a , His flocks sometimes before him , and sometimes behind-a . He hath the green medows to walk at his will-a , With a pair of fine bag-pipes upon the green hill-a ; Trang-dille , trang-dille , trang down a down dilla , With a pair of fine bag-pipes upon a green hill-a . His sheep round about him do seed on the dale-a His bag full of cake-bread , his bo●tle of ale-a , A cantle of cheese that is good and old-a , Because that he walketh all day in the cold-a , VVith his cloak and his sheep-hook thus marcheth he still-a , With a pair of fine bag-pipes upon a green hilla-a . Trangdille , &c. If cold doth oppress him to cabin goeth he-a , If heat doth molest him then under green tree-a , If his sheep chance to range over the plain-a , His little dog Lightfoot doth fetch them again-a , For there he attendeth his masters own will-a , With a pair of fine bag-pipes upon the green hill-a , Trangdille , &c. He list not to idle all day like a moam-a , In spending his time though sitting alone-a , Lingle , needle & thimble he hath still in store-a , To mend shoes and apparel he keeps them therefore-a , Thus whistling and piping he danceth his fill-a , With a pair of fine bag-pipes upon the green hill-a , Trangdille , &c. If Phillida chance come tripping aside-a , A most friendly welcom he doth her betide-a , He straightwayes presents her a poor shepherds fees ▪ a , His bottle of good ale , his cake and his cheese-a , He pipeth , she danceth all at their own will-a , With a pair of fine bag-pipes upon the green hill-a . Trangdille , &c. But now wanton shepherd howsoever your meaning , My harvest 's not ripe , therefore leave your gleaning , For if in my garden a Rose you would pull-a , Perhaps it may cost you all your sheeps wool-a . Thus do they both frolick & sport at their will-a , With a pair of fine bag-pipes upon the green hill-a ; Trangdille , trangdille , trang down a down dilla , With a pair of fine bag-pipes upon the green hill-a . In praise of Canary . LEt us purge our brains from these hops and grains , They do smell of Anarchy ; Let us chuse a King , from whose loins may spring A sparkling of Monarchy . It ill befits , true wine breeds wits , VVhose bloud runs high and cleer , To bind their hands in Dray-mens bands , VVhen as they may go freer . VVhy should we droop or basely stoop , To popular ale or beer ? VVho shall be our King , that is now the thing For which we all are met ? Claret is a Prince , that hath been long since In the Royal order set . His face is spread with warlike red , And so he loves to see men ; VVhere he bears sway , his subjects they Shall be as good as free-men . But here 's the plot almost forgot , He is too much burnt by women . By the River Rhine , is a valiant wine , That can all our veins replenish ; Let us then consent to the Government , And the Royal rule of the Rhenish . This German-wine will warm the chine , And frisk in every vein ; T' will make the Bride forget to chide , And call him to 't again . But that 's not all , he is too small , To be a Soveraign . Let us never think of a nobler drink , But with voices voted high ; Let all proclaim good Canaries name , Heavens blesse his Majesty . He is a King in every thing , VVhose nature doth renown all : He makes us skip and nimbly leap , From the sealing to the gronsell , Especially when Poets be Lords of the Privy-Councel . But a Vintner he shall his taster fee , And there is none shall him let ; And a drawer that hath a good pallat , Shall be made squire of the gimlet . The bar-boys shall be pages all , A Tavern well prepar'd : In Joval sort shall be his Court , VVhere nothing shall be spar'd VVine-Porters shall with shoulders tall , Be yeomen of the Guard. If a Cooper we with a red nose see , But in any part of the Town ; That Cooper shall with his ads Rial , Be keeper of the Crown . Young wits that wash away their cash , In Wine and Recreation : How hates dull beer , are welcome here , To give their approbation . So shall all you that will allow , Canaries Coronation . A health to King Charles when loyalty was a crime . SInce it must be so , then so let it go Let the giddy-brain'd times turn round ; Since we have no King let the goblets be crown'd : Our Monarchy thus wee 'l recover , While the pottles are weeping wee 'l drench our sad souls , In big-bellyed bowles ; And our sorrows in Sack shall lie steeping . And wee 'l drink till our eyes do run over , And prove it by reason That it can be no treason , To laugh and to sing A mournifull of healths to our new crown'd King. Let us all stand bare , in the presence we are , Let our noses like bon-fires shine ; Instead of the Conduit let the pottle run wine , To perfect this new Coronation . For we that are loyal In Sack will appear , And that face that doth wear Pure Claret , looks like the bloud-Royal ; And out-stares all the bores of the Nation . In sign of obedience , Our Oath of allegiance , Beer glasses shall be : And he that tipples tends to the Nobility . But if in this raign , the halberdly train , And the Constable chance to rebel ; And should with his twibel maliciously swel , And against the Kings party raise Arms : Then the drawers like yeomen Of the guard , with quart pots , ●hall fuddle the Scots : VVhile we make them Cuckold's and freemen , And on their wives beat an alarm . And as the health passes , VVee 'l tipple our glasses ; And hold it no sin To be loyal , and to drink in defence of our King. Upon Olivers dissolving the Parliament in 1653. 1. WIll you hear a strange thing scarce heard of before , A ballad of news without any lies , The Parl. men are all turn'd out of doors , And so are the Council of State likewise . 2. Brave Oliver came to the house like a spright , His fiery looks strook the Speaker dumb ; You must be gone hence , quoth he , by this light , Do you mean to sit here til Dooms-day come ? 3. With that the Speaker lookt pale for fear , As though he had been with the night-mare rid ; Insomuch as some did think that were there , That he had even done as the Alderman did . 4. But Oliver though he be Doctor of Law , Yet he seem'd to play the Physitian there ; His physick so wrought on the Speakers maw , That he gave him a stool instead of a Chair . 5. Harry Martyn wondred to see such a thing , Done by a Saint of such high degree ; 'T was an act he did not expect from a King , Much lesse from such a dry bone as he . 6. But Oliver laid his hand on his sword , And upbraided him with his Adultery ; To which Harry answer'd never a word , Saving , humbly thanking his Majesty . 7. Allen the Coppersmith was in great fear , He did us much harm since the wars began ; A broken Citizen many a year , And now he is a broken Parliament-man . 8. Bradshaw that President proud as the Pope , That loves upon Kings and Princes to trample ; Now the house is dissolv'd I cannot but hope , To see such a President made an example . 9. And were I one of the Counsel of war , I 'le tell you what my vote should be , Upon his own Turret at Westminster , To be hanged up for all comers to see . 10. My masters I wonder you could not agree , You that have been so long brethren in evil ; A dissolution you might think there would be ; When the Devil 's divided against the Devil . 11. Then room for the Speaker without his Mace , And room for the rest of the Rabble-rout ; My masters methinks 't is a pittiful case , Like the snuff of a Candle thus to go out . 12. Now some like this change , and some like it not , Some think it was not done in due season ; Some think it ws but a Jesuits plot , To blow up the house like a gun-powder-Treason . 13. Some think that Oliver and Charles are agree'd , And sure it were good policy if it were so ; Lest the Hollander , French , the Dane , and the Swede . Should bring him in whether he would or no. 14. And now I would gladly conclude my song , VVith a prayer as Ballads are used to do ; But yet I 'le forbear , for I think er 't be long , VVe shall have a King and a Parliament too . FINIS . These Books following are printed for Nathanael Brook , and are to be sold at his Shop at the Angel in Cornhill . Excellent Tracts in Divinity , Controversies , Sermons , Devotions . 1. THe Catholick History collected and gathered out of Scripture , Councils and ancient Fathers , in answer to Doctor Vane's Lost sheep returned home : by Edward Chesensale Esq in octavo . 2. Bishop Morton on the Sacrament , in fol. 3. The grand Sacriledge of the Church of Rome , in taking away the sacred Cup from the Laity at the Lords-Table : by D. Dan. Featly in 4. 4. Quakers cause at second hearing , being a full answer to their Tenets . 5. Re-assertion of Grace , Vindiciae Evangelii , or the Vindication of the Gospel , a Reply to Mr. Anthony Burges's Vindiciae Legis , and to Mr. Rutherford : by Robert Towres . 6. Anabaptist anatomiz'd and silenced , or a Dispute with Mr. Tombs : by Mr. I. Cragg , where all may receive clear satisfaction . A Cabinet Jewel , Mans misery , Gods mercy , in 8. Sermons , with an Appendix concerning Tithes , with the expediency of marriages in publick assemblies : by the same Author Mr. I. Cragg . 7. A Glimpse of Divine Light , being an explication of some passages exhibited to the Commissioners at White-hall for approbation of publick Preachers , against I. Harrison of Land-Chappel , Lancashire . 8. The Zealous Magistrate , a Sermon , by T. Threscos , quarto . 9. New Jerusalem , in a Sermon for the Society of Astrologers , quarto , in the year 1651. 10. Divinity no enemy to Astrology , a Sermon for the Society of Astrologers in the year 1643. by Dr. Thomas Swadling . 11. Britannia Rediviva , a Sermon before the Judges , Aug. 1648. by I. Shaw Minister of Hull . 12. the Princess Royal , in a Sermon before the Judges , March 24. by I. Shaw. 13. Judgment set and Books opened , Religion tryed whether it be of God or man , in several Sermons , by I. Webster , quarto . 14. Israels Redemption , or the prophetical History of our Saviours Kingdom on Earth : by K. Matton . 15. The cause and cure of Ignorance , Error and Prophaneness ; or a more hopeful way to grace and salvation : by K. Young , octavo . 16. A Bridle for the Times , tending to still the murmuring , to settle the wavering , to stay the wandring , and to strengthen the fainting : by I. Brinsley of Yarmounth . 17. Comforts against the fear of death , wherein are discovered several evidences of the work of grace : by I. Collins of Norwich . 18. Iacobs seed , or the excellency of seeking God by prayer : by Ier. Burroughs . 19. The summe of Practical Divinity , or the grounds of Religion in a Catechistical way : by Mr. Christopher Love , late Minister of the Gospel ; an useful piece . 20. Heaven & Earth shaken , a Treatise shewing how Kings and Princes , and all other Governments , are turned and changed : by I. Davis Minister in Dover ; admirably useful , and seriously to be considered in these times . 21. The Treasure of the soul , wherein we are taught by dying to sin to attain to the perfect love of God. 22. A Treatise of Contentation , fit for these sad and troublesome times : by I. Hall Bishop of Norwich . 23. Select Thoughts , or choice helps for a pious spirit beholding the excellency of her Lord Jesus : by I. Hall Bishop of Norwich . 24. The holy Order or Fraternity of Mourn●r ; in Sion ; to which is added , Songs in the Night , or chearfulness under afflictions : by I. Hall Bishop of Norwich . 25. The Celestial Lamp , enlightning every distressed soul from the depth of everlasting darkness : by T. Fetiplace . 26. The Moderate Baptist in two parts , shewing the Scripture-way for the Administring of the Sacrament of Baptism , discovering the old errour of Original sin in Babes : by W. Brittin . 27. Dr. Martin Luther's Treatise of Liberty of Christians ; an useful Treatise for the stating Controversies so much disputed in these times about this great point . 28. The Key of Knowledge , a little Book by way of Questions and Answers , intended for the use of all degrees of Christians , especially for the Saints of Religious families , by old Mr. Iohn Iackson that famous Divine . 29. The true Evangelical Temper , a Treatise modestly and soberly fitted to the present grand concernments of the State and Church : by old Mr. Iohn Iackson . 30. The Book of Conscience opened and read , by the same Author . 31. The so much desired and Learned Commentary on the whole 15. Psalm ; by that Reverend and Eminent Divine Mr. Christopher Cartwright Minister of the Gospel in York to which is affixed a brief account of the Authors Life and Work by R. Bolton . 32. The Judges Charge , delivered in a Sermon before Mr. Justice Hall & Serjeant Crook Judges of Assize at St. Mary Overis in Southwark , by R. Parr M. A. Pastor of Camerwell in the County of Surry . A Sermon worthy perusal of all such persons as endeavour to be honest and just practitioners in the Law. 33. The Saints Tomb-stone , being the Life of that Virtuous Gentlewoman Mrs. Dorothy Shaw , late Wife of Mr. Iohn Shaw Minister of the Gospel at Kingston upon Hull . Admirable and Learned Treatises of Occult Sciences in Philosophy , Magick , Astrology , Geomancy , Chymistry , Physiognomy and Chiromancy . 34. Magick and Astrology vindicated by H. Warren . 35. Lux veritatis , Judicial Astrology vindicated , and Demonology cofuted : by W. Ramsey , Gent. 36. An Introduction to the Teutonick Philosophy , being a determination of the Original of the soul , by C. Hotham Fellow of Peter-House in Cambridge . 37. Cornelius Agrippa his fourth Book of Occult Philosophy , or Geomancy ; Magical Elements of Peter de Abona , the nature of spirits , made English by R. Turner . 38. Paracelsus Occult Philosophy of the mysteries of Nature , and his secret Alchimy . 39. An Astrological Discourse with Mathematical Demonstrations ; proving the influence of the Planets and fixed Stars upon Elementary Bodies : by Sir Christ. Heyden Knight . 40. Merlinus Anglicus , Iunior : the English Merlin revived , or a Prediction upon the Affairs of Christendom , for the year 1644. by . W. Lilly. 41. Englands Prophetical Merlin , foretelling to all Nations of Europe , till 1663. the actions depending upon the Influences of the Conjunction of Saturn and Iupiter , 1642. by W. Lilly. 42. The Starry messenger , or an interpretatiof that strange apparition of three Suns seen in London 19. of Nov. 1644. being the Birth-day of K. Charles , by W. Lilly. 43. The Worlds Catastrophe , or Europes many mutations , untill 1666. by W. Lilly. 44. An Astrological prediction of the Occurrences in England , part in the years 1648. 1649. 1650. by W. Lilly. 45. Monarchy or no Monarchy in England , the prophesie of the White King , Grebner his prophesies concerning Charls Son of Charls his Greatnesse , illustrated with several Hieroglyphicks , by W. Lilly. 46. Annus Tenebrosus , or the dark year ; or Astrological Judgments upon two Lunary Eclipses , and one admirable Eclipse of the Sun in England , 1652. by W. Lilly. 47. An easie and familiar way whereby to judge the effects depending on Eclipses , by W. Lilly. 48. Supernatural sights and appatitions seen in London , Iune 30. 1644. by W. Lilly ; as also all his Works in one Volume . 49. Catastrophe Magnacum , an Ephemerides for the year 1652. by N. Culpeper . 50. Teratologia , or a discovery of Gods Wonders , manifested by bloody Rain and Waters : by I. S. 51. Chyromancy , or the art of divining by the Lines engraven in the hand of man , by dame Nature , in 198. Genitures ; with a learned Discourse of the soul of the World : by G. Wharton , Esq 52. the admired piece of Physiognomy , and Chyromancy , Metoposcopy , the symmetrical proportions and signal moles of the body , the Interpretation of Dreams , to which is added the art of memory , illustrated with Figures : by R. Sanders , folio . 53. The no less exquisite then admirable work , Theatrum Chemycum Britannicum ; containing several Poetical pieces of our famous English Philosophers , who have written the Hermetick mysteries in their own ancient Language ; faithfully collected into one Volume , with Annotations thereon : by the Indefatigable Industry of Elias Ashmole , Esq illustrated with Figures . 54. The way to Bliss , in three Books , a very Learned Treatise of the Philosophers Stone , made publick by Elias Ashmole , Esq Excellent Treatises in the Mathematicks , Geometry , of Arithmetick , Surveying , and other Arts , or Mechanicks . 55. The incomparable Treatise of Tactometria , seu Tetagmenometria ; or the Geometry of Regulars , practically proposed after a new and most expeditious manner , together with the Natural or Vulgar , by way of mensural comparison , and in the Solids , not only in respect of Magnitude or Dimension , but also of Gravity or Ponderosity , according to any metal assigned : together with useful experiments of measures and weights , observations on gauging , useful for those that are practised in the art Metrical : by T. Wybard . 56. Tectonicon , shewing the exact measuring of all manner of Land , Squares , Timber , Stones , Steeples , Pillars , Globes ; as also the making and use of the Carpenters Rule , &c. fit to be known by all Surveyors , Land-meters , Joyners , Carpenters , and Masons : by D. Diggs . 57. The unparallel'd work for ease and expedition , entituled , The exact Surveyor , or the whole art of surveying of Land , shewing how to plot all manner of grounds , whether small inclosures , champian , plain , wood-lands , or mountains , by the plain-Table ; as also how to find the Area , or content of any Land , to protect , reduce , or Divide the same ; as also to take the plot or chart , to make a map of any mannor , whether according to Rathburne , or any other eminent surveyors method ; a Book excellently useful for those that sell , purchase , or are otherwise employed about Buildings : by I. Eyre . 58. The Golden Treatise of Arithmetick , Natural and Artificial , or Decimals , the Theory and practise united in a simpathetical proportion betwixt Line and Numbers , in their Quantities and Qualities , as in respect of form , figure , magnitude and affection , demonstrated by Geometry , illustrated by Calculations , and confirmed with variety of examples in every Species ; made compendious and easie for Merchants , Citizens , Seamen , Accomptants , &c. by Thomas Wilsford , corrector of the last Edition of Record . 59 ▪ Semigraphy , or the art of short-writing , as it hath been proved by many hundreds in the City of London , and other places by them practised , and acknowledged to be the easiest , exactest and swiftest method ; the meanest capacity by the help of this Book , with a few hours practise may attain to a perfection in this Art : by I. Rich Author and teacher thereof , dwelling in Swithins-Lane in London . 60. Milk for Children , a plain and easie method teaching to read and write , useful for Scools and Families : by I. Thomas D. D. 61. The Painting of the ancients , the History of the beginning , progress , and consummating of the practise of that noble art of painting : by F. Iunius . Excellent and approved Treatises in Physick , Chyrurgery , and other more familiar Experiments in Cookery , Preserving , &c. 62. Culpeper's Semiatica Vranica , his Astrological Judgement of Diseases from the decumbiture of the sick much enlarged : the way and manner of finding out the cause , change and end of the Disease ; also whether the sick be likely to live or die , and the time when Recovery or Death is to be expected , according to the judgement of Hypocrates and Hermes Trismegistus ; to which is added Mr. Culpepers censure of Urines . 63. Culpepers last Legacy left to his Wife for the publick good , being the choicest and most profitable of those secrets in Physick and Chyrurgery , which whilest he lived , were lock'd up in his breast , and resolved never to be published till after his death . 64. The York shire Spaw , or the vertue and use of that water in curing of desperate Diseases , with directions and Rules necessary to be considered by all that repair thither . 65. Most approved Medicines and Remedies for the diseases in the body of man : by A. Read Doctor in Physick . 66. The art of simpling , an Introduction to the knowledg of gathering of Plants , wherein the definitions , divisions , places , descriptions , differences , names , vertues , times of gathering , temperatures of them , are compendiously discoursed of : also a discovery of the lesser World : by W. Coles . 67. Adam in Eden , or Natures Paradise : the History of Plants , Hearbs , and Flowers , with their several original names , the places where they grow , their descriptions and kinds , their times of flourishing and decreasing ; as also their several signatures , anatomical appropriations , and particular physical vertues ▪ with necessary observations on the seasons of planting and gathering of our English plants . A work admirable useful for Apothecaries , Chyrurgeons , and other ingenious persons , who may in this Herbal find comprized all the English physical simples , that Gerard or Parkinson in their two voluminous Herbals have discoursed of ; even so as to be on emergent occasions their own Physicians , the Ingredients being to be had in their own Fields and Gardens : published for the general good , by W. Coles M.D. 68. The complete midwives practise in the high and weighty concernments of the body of mankind : the second Edition corrected and enlarged , with a full supply of such most useful and admirable secrets which Mr. Nicholas Culpeper in his brief Treatise , and other English Writers in the art of midwifry have hitherto wilfully passed by , kept close to themselves , or wholly omitted : by T. Chamberlaine , M. P. illustrated with Copper Figures . 69. The Queens Closet opened , incomparable secrets in physick , chyrurgery , preserving , candying , and cookery ; as they were presented to the Queen by the mo●t experienced persons of our times ; many whereof were honoured with her own practise . 70. William Clows his Chirurgical Observations for those that are burned with the flames of Gun-powder , as also for the curing of wounds and lues venerea . 71. The expert Doctors Dispensatory , the whole art of physick restored to practice , with a survey of most Dispensatories extant ; a work for the plainness and method not to be parallel'd by any , with a Preface of Mr. Nich. Culpepers to the Reader in its commendation : by P. Morellus , Physician to the King of France . 72. The perfect Cook , a right method in the art of Cookery , whether for Pastry or A la mode Kickshaws , with 55. ways of dressing Eggs : by M. M. Elegant Treatises in Humanity , History , Description of Countries , Romances and Poetry . 73. Times Treasury or Academy , for the accomplishment of the English Gentry in arguments of Discourse , Habit , Fashion , Behaviour , &c. all summed up in characters of Honour : by R. Braithwair . 74. Oedipus , or the Resolver of the secrets of Love and other natural problems , by way of Question and Answe● . 75. The admirable and most impartial History of New England , of the first plantation there in the year 1628. brought down to these times : all the material passages performed there , exactly related . 76. America painted to the Life , the History of the Conquest , and first Original undertaking of the advancement of plantations in those parts , with an exact Map : by F. Gorges , Esq 77. The tears of the Indians , the History of the most bloudy and most cruel proceedings of the Spaniards in the Islands of Hispaniola , Cuba , Iamaica , Mexico , Peru , and other places of the West-Indies ; in which to the life are discovered the Tyrannies of the Spaniards , as also he justness of our War so successefully managed against them . 78. The Illustrious Shepherdesse . The Imperious Brother , written originally in S●anish by that incomparable Wit , Don Iohn Perez de Montalbans ; translated at the requests of the Marchioness of Dorchester , and the Countess of Strafford : by E. P. 79. The History of the golden Ass , as also the Loves of Cupid and his Mi●t●esse Psi●he : by L. Apuleius translated into English. 80. The Unfortunate Mothe● , a Tragedy , by T.N. 81. The Rebellion : a Comedy , by T. Rawlins . 82. The Tragedy of Messalina the insatiate Rom●n Empress : by N. Richards . 8● . The Floating Island : A ●rage-Comedy acted before the King , by the Student of Christ-Church in Oxon. by that Renowned Wit W. Strode ; the songs were set by M. Henry Lawes . 84. Harvey's Divine Poems , the Hi●tory of Balaam , of Ionah ▪ and of St. Iohn the Evangelist . 85. Fons Lachrymarum , or a Fou●tain of tears ; the Lamentations of the Pro●he● Ieremiah in Verse , with an Elegy on Sir Charles Lucas : by I. Quarles . 86. Nocturnal Lu●ubrations , with other witty Epigrams and Epita●hs : by R. Chamberlain . 87. The admirable ingenious Satyr against Hypocrite . 88. Wit Restored , in several select Poems , not formerly published , by Sir Iohn Men●s and Mr. Smith , with others . 89. Sportive Wit , the Muses meriment , a new Spring of Droller● ▪ Jovil F●ancie● &c. Poetical , with several other accurately ingenuous Treatises lately printed . 90. Wits Interpreter , the English Parnassus : or a sure Guide to those admirable accomplishments that complete the English Gentry , in the most acceptable Qualifications of discourse or writing . An art of Logick , accurate Complements , Fancies , Devises , and Experiments , Poems , Poetical Fictions , and A la mode Letters : by I.C. 91. Wit and Drollery with other Jovial Poems with new additions : by Sir I. M. M. L. M. S. W. D. 92. The conveyance of Light , or the complete Clerk and Scriveners guide ; being an exact draught of all presidents and assurances now in use ; as they were penned and perfected by divers Learned Judges , Eminent Lawyers , and great conveyancers , both ancient and modern : whereunto is added a Concordance from King Richard the Third to this present . 93. Themis Aurea , the Laws of the Fraternity of the Rosie Crosse ; in which the occult secrets of their Philosophical Notions are brought to light : written by Count Mayerus . and now Englished by T. H. 94. The Iron Rod put into the Lord Protectors hand ; a Prophetical Treatise . 95. Medicina Magica tamen Physica , magical but natural physick , containing the general cures of Infirmities and diseases belonging to the bodies of men , as also to other animals and domestick Creatures , by way of transplantation , with a description of the most excellent Cordial out of Gold : by Sam. Boulton of Salop. 96. I. Tradescant's Rarities publish'd by himself . 97. The proceedings of the High Court of Justice against the late King Charles , with his speech upon the Scaffold and other proceedings , Ian. 30. 1649. Admirable Usefull Treatises newly printed . 98. Natures Secrets , or the admirable and wonderful History of the generation of meteors , describing the temperatures of the elements , the heights , magnitudes and influences of Stars , the causes of Comets , Earthquakes , Deluges , Epidemical Diseases , and prodigies of precedent times : with presages of the weather , and descriptions of the weather-glass : by T. Wilsford . 99. The mysteries of Love & Eloquence , or the arts of Wooing and Complementing , as they are managed in the Spring-Garden , Hide-Park , the New Exchange , & other eminent places : A work in which is drawn to the life the Deportments of the most accomplish'd persons : the mode of their Courtly entert●inments , treatment of their Ladies at Balls , their accustomed Sports , Drolls and Fancies , the Witchcrafts of their perswasive Language in their approaches , or other more sec●et dispatches , &c. by E.P. 100. Helmont disguised , or the vulgar errors of impartial and unskilful practisers of physick confuted , more especially as they concern the Cures of Feavers , the Stone , the Plague , and some other Diseases by way of Dialogue , in which the chief Rarities of physick are admirably discoursed of : by I.T. Books in the Press and now printing . 1. Geometry demonstrated by lines and numbers ; from ●hence Astronomy , Cosmography and Navigation proved and delineated by the Doctrine of plain and spherical Triangles : by T. Wilsford . 2. The English Annals , from the Invasion made by Iulius Caesar to these times : by T. Wilsford . 3. The Fool transformed , a Comedy . 4. The History of Lewis the eleventh King of France , a Trage-Comedy . 5. The chast Woman against her wil , a Comedy . 6. The Tooth-drawer , a Comedy . 7. Honour in the end , a Comedy . 8. Tell-tale , a Comedy . 9. The History of Donquixot , or the Knight of the ill-favoured face , a Comedy . 10. the fair Spanish Captive , a Trage●comedy . 11. Sir Kenelm Digby , and other Persons of Honour , their rare and incomparable secrets of Physick , Chirurgery , Cookery , Preserving , Conserving , Candying , distilling of Waters , extraction of Oyls , compounding of the co●●iest Perfumes , with other admirable inventions and select experiments , as they offered themselves to their observations , whether here or in forreign Countreys . Books lately printed . 12. The so well entertained work , the New World of English words , or a general Dictionary , containing the Terms , Etymologies , Definitions , and perfect Interpretations of the proper significations of hard English words , throughout the Arts and Sciences , Liberall or Mechanick ; as also other subjects that are usefull or appertain to the Language of our Nation : to which is added the signification of proper Names , Mythology and Poetical Fictions , Historical Relations , Geographical Descriptions of the Countries and Cities of the world , especially of these three Nations , wherein their chiefest Antiquities , Battles , and other most remarkable passages are mentioned : a work very necessary for strangers as well as our own Countrymen , for all persons that would rightly understand what they discourse or read : collected and published by E.P. for the greater honour of those learned Gentlemen and Artists that have been assistant in the most practical Sciences , their names are presented before the Book . 13. The modern Assurancer , the Clerks Directory , containing the practick part of the Law , in the exact forms and draughts of all manner of Presidents for Bargains and Sales , Grants , Feoffments , Bonds , Bills , Conditions , Covenants , Joyntures , Indentures , to lead the uses of Fines and Recoveries , with good Proviso's and Covenants to stand seized ; Charter-parties for Ships , Leases , Releases , Surrenders , &c. and all other Instruments and Assurances now in use , intended for all young Students and Practicers of the Law : by Iohn Hern. 14. Moor's Arithmetick , the second Edition , much refined and diligently cleared from the former mistakes of the press ; a work containing the whole art of Arithmetick as well in numbers as species , together with many additions by the Author , is come forth . 15. Likewise Exercitatio Eleiptica Nova , or a new mathematical Contemplation on the Oval Figure called an Eleipsis ; together with the two first Books of Mydorgius his Conicks Analiz'd and made so plain , that the Doctrine of Conical sections may be easily understood ; a Work much desired and never before published in the English Tongue : by Ionas Moor , Surveyor General of the great Level of the Fenns . 16. Naps upon Parnassus , a sleepy muse nipt and pinch'd though not awaked : such Voluntary and Jovial Copies of Verses as were lately receiv'd from some of the Wits of the Universities in a Frolick ; Dedicated to Gondiberts Mistresse , by Captain Iones and others . Whereunto is added for Demonstration of the Authors Prosaick Excellencies , his Epistle to one of the Universities , with the Answer ; together with two Satyrical Characters of his own , of a Temporizer , and an Antiquary , with marginal notes by a Friend to the Reader . 17. Culpepers School of Physick , or the Experimental practise of the whole Art , so reduced either into Aphorismes , or choice and tryed Receipts , that the free-born Students of the three Kingdoms may in this method find perfect ways for the operation of such medicines , so Astrologically and Physically prescribed , as that they may themselves be competent Judges of the Cures of their patients : by N.C. 18. Blagrave's admirable Ephemerides for the year 1659. and 1660. 19. I. Cleaveland Revived , Poems , Orations , Epistles , and other of his Genuine incomparable pieces : a second impression with many additions . 20. The Equisite Letters of Mr. Robert Loveday , the late admired Translatour of the Volumes of the famed Romance Cleopatra , for the perpetuating his memory ; published by his dear Brother , Mr. A.L. 21. Englands Worthies , Select Lives of 47. most Eminent persons from Constan●ine the Great to the late times : by W. Winstanley , Gent. 22. The Accomplish'd Cook , the mystery of the whole Art of Cookery , revealed in a more easie and perfect method then hath been publish'd in any Language ; expert and ready ways for the dressing of Flesh , Fowl , and Fish , the raising of Pastes , the best directions for all manner of Kickshaws , and the most poinant Sauces , with the terms of carving and sewing : the Bills of Fare , and exact account of all dishes for the season , with other A la mode Curiosities , together with the lively Illustrations of such necessary ●igures as are referred to practise : approved by the many years experience , and careful industry of Robert May , in the time of his attendance on several persons of Honour . 23. The Scales of Commerce and Trade , the mystery revealed as to traffick with a Debitor or Creditor , for merchants Accounts after the Italian way , and easiest method ; as also a Treatise of Archirecture , and a computation as to all the charges of building : by T. Wilsford , Gent. 24. Arts Master-piece , or the beautifying part of physick ; whereby all defects of Nature of both sexes are amended , age renewed , youth continued , and all imperfections fairly remedied : by B.T. Doctor of physick , fitted for the Ladies . 25. A Discourse concerning Liberty of Conscience , in which are contained proposals about what liberty in this kind is now politically expedient to be given , and several reasons to shew how much the peace and welfare is concerned therein : by R.T. 26. Christian Reformation , being an earnest swasion to the speedy practise of it : proposed to all , but especially designed for the serious consideration of my dear Kindred and Countrymen of the Country of Cork in Irel. and the people of Riegate and Camerwel in the County of Surrey : by Richard Parr , Doctor in Divinity there , a practical piece . 27. The Character of Spain , or an Epitomy of their Vertues and Vices . 28. The Character of Italy , or the Italian anatomized by an English Chirurgion . 29. The Character of France , to which is added Gallus castratus , or an Answer to a pamphlet called The character of England , as also a fresh Whip for the monsieur in answer to his Letter : the second Edit . 30. No Necessity of Reformation of the publick Doctrine of the Church of Engl. by I. Pearson D.D. 31. An Answer to Dr. Burges's Word by way of postscript , in vindication of No Necessity of Reformation of the publick Doctrine of the Church of England : by Iohn Pearson D.D. 32. A Treatise of peace between the two visible divided parties ; wherein is inquired , What peace is intended , who the parties that differ , wherein the difference consists , how they fell out , wherein they ought to agree , how they may be perswaded unto peace , by what means reconciliation may be made between them . 33. Dr. Daniel Featly Revived , proving that the Protestant Church , and not the Catholick , is the onely visible and true Church ; in a manual preserved from the hands of the plunderers , with a succinct History of his life and death : published by Iohn Featly , Chaplain to the Kings most excellent Majesty . 34. Scotch Covenant condemned , being a full answer to Mr. Duglas his Sermon , preached at the Kings Coronation in Scotland , wherein His Sacred Majesty is vindicated : by a loyal and orthodox hand . 35. Englands Triumph , a more exact History of His Majesties Escape after the Battle of Worcester , with a Chronological discourse of his Straits and Dangerous Adventures into France , and His Removes from place to place till His happy return into England , with the most Remarkable memorials till after his Coronation . 36. Euclides Elements in 15. Books in English completed by Mr. Barrow of Cambridge . 37. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 , or God made Man. A Tract proving the Nativity of our Saviour to be on the 25. of December : by the Learned I. Selden . 38. An Elenchus of Opinions concerning the Cure of the Small Pox : by T. Whitaker Physitian to His Majesty . These are to give notice , that Sir Kenelme Digbies Sympathetical Powder prepar'd by Promethean fire , curing all green wounds that come within the compass of a Remedy ; and likewise the Tooth-ache infalliby in a very short time : Is to be had at Mr. Nathanael Brook's at the Angel in Cornhil . The true and right Lozenges and Pectorals so generally known and approved , for the cure of Consumptions , Coughs , Asthma's , Colds in general , and all other Diseases incident to the Head , are rightly made onely by Iohn Piercy , Gent , the first Inventer of them ; and whosoever maketh them besides do but counterfeit them , they are likewise to be sold by Mr. Nathanael Brook at the Angel in Cornhill . FINIS . Notes, typically marginal, from the original text Notes for div A66741-e280 (1) The harder the word is , the easier it is to be understood . (2) In varying the use of the senses , the Author shews himself to be in his wits . (3) In varying the use of the senses , the Author shews himself to be in his wits . (4) There the Author shewes himself to be well versed in the Almanack . (5) Being twice repeated , it argues an elegant fancy in the Poet. (6) To make falfe English , argues as much knowledge as to make true latin . (7) Better once done then never . (8) For sometimes there may happen a quarrel amongst freinds . (9) Till he was married , he could be but one . (1) There is no mischiefe , but a woman is at one end of it . (2) The more you hear on 't , the worse you 'l like it . (3) There was a Spanish regiment amongst them . (4) That may be done in an hour , which we may repent all our life after . (5) Being up to the Elbows in trouble , she expessed it in this line . (6) Even Reckoning makes long freinds . (7) As a pudding ha's two ends , so smock ha's two sides . (8.) As love doth commonly break out into an Itch , yet with her it did not so (9) There the Author translates out of Ovid , as Ben Jonson do's in Sejanus out of Homer (1.) By this you may perceive , that primers were first Printed at Abidos . (2.) For distinction sake , because many mens noses bleed white blood . (3.) Black is the beauty of the shoe . (4) Because a Cow , was amongst the ancient Graecians called a Neat , Gesner in his Etymolog . lib. 103. Tom 16. (5.) Better falsifye the Rime then the Story , &c. Notes for div A66741-e2660 * Turnemill Street . * Vulcan . Notes for div A66741-e65680 The Hare 's Will. The Hounds . The Hare .