THE TRIMMING of Thomas Nashe Gentleman, by the high-tituled patron Don Richardo de Medico campo, Barber Chirurgeon to Trinity College in Cambridge.  
Faber quas fecit compedes ipse gestat.  
LONDON, Printed for Philip Scarlet 1597.   

To the Learned.  
Eme, perlege, nec te precii poenitebit.   

To the simple.  
Buy me, read me through, and thou wilt not repent thee of thy cost.   

To the Gentle Reader.  
PRoface gentle Gentlemen, I am sorry I have no better Cates to present you with: but pardon I pray you, for this which I have here provided, was bred in Lent, and Lent (you know) is said of lean, because it macerates & makes lean the body: if therefore this dish be lean and nothing answerable to your expectation, let it suffice 'twas bred in Lent: neither had it any time wherein it might gather any thing unto itself to make it more fat and delightful. His Epistle I expected any time these three years, but this mine answer sine fuco loquar, though it be not worthy to be called the work of one well spent hour) I have wrought forth out of the stolen hours of three weeks: for although occasion hath been offered ever since the Epistle hath been extant, to answer it: yet held in suspense considering the man and matter, whether I should take it upon me or no: at last concluding him easily answerable, I have undergone it: therefore howsoever you see it crept abroad Gentles, receive it well in worth: Your favours happily might add strength unto it, and stir up the faint creeping steps to a ●ore lively pace: it by hard hap being denied of the progress, keeping at home hath grown somewhat greater. To tell you what the man is, and the reason of this book, were but trivial and superfluous, only this, you may call it The trimming of Thomas Nashe, wherein he is described. In trimming of which description, though I have found out and fetched from the mint some few new words to colour him, grant me pardon, I think them fit for him who is so limmed and coullored with all new found villainy: for if they be etimoligisde, they no whit disagree from his properties Slender labour hath sufficed to weave this thin superficial vail to cover his crimson Epistle, and shadow it forth unto the world. For as a garment of too bright a colour is too evil an object for the eyes (as is the Sun) & is nothing gazed after, no not of those who never saw it before: yet new things are desired, because 'twould prove pernicious to their eyes, but once ore-clowded and covered with a lawn vesture, through that it shines & becometh a less hurting object, and draws the people's sight after it: so his Epistle in it own colour being too resplendent and hurtful to the readers, is laid apart & is nothing in request, for that 'twould prove as a burning glass unto their eyes, but vestured with this Caule & rare-wrought garment, it loseth part of it hurting vigour, & therefore is called to be seen again.  
Loathed tediousness I also eschewed as no less hurtful than too bright an object: the Book which he dedicateth to me, is so tedious, that had I read it through, it so loathsome would have wrought more on me both upward & downward, then 3. drams of pills: his Epistle is not behind hand, to that I might say as said Diogenes to the men of Minda, (whose gates were greater in analogical proportion then their City:) O ye men of Minda, look to your City, that it flies not out at your gates: So his book might well for the largeness of the Epistle have flown out at it, and surely I think had his book any wings, that is, any quaint devise flying abroad to please withal, it would never have stayed till this time: therefore I think it providently done of him (though out of doubt the fool had no such drift) to make the gates so big, that when we have passed through the gates, supposing all the City to be suitable to the stateliness of them: but after we are entered, finding ourselves merely gulled, and that all the City is not worth the gates, we may the more readily find the way out of the City again, the gates being so great: and this remedy I found once when I took my journey into his City. But to return, If this be not so well set forth as you could wish it were, blame me not: for as the Moon being naked & bare, is said once to have gone to her mother, and asked of her a coat to clothe her: but she answered, there could be no coat made fit for her, for her instability, sometime she being in the full, and sometime in the wane: so he being a man of so great revolution, I could not fit him, for if I had undertaken to speak of one of his properties, another came into my mind, & another followed that, which bred confusion, making it too little for him: therefore were it not too little, it might be 'twould be fit, but howsoever, pardon (Gentlemen) my boldness in presenting to your favourable views this little & confused coat.  
Yours in all courtesy, Richard L●chfield.   

The trimming of Thomas Nashe.  
SIR, here is a gentleman at the door would speak with you. Let him come in. M. Nashe! welcome. What, you would be trimmed? & I cannot deny you that favour. Come, sit down, I'll trim you myself. How now? what makes you sit down so tenderly? you crintch in your buttocks like old father Pater patriae, he that was father to a whole country of bastards. Dispatch, st, boy, set the water to the fire: but sirrah, hark in your ear, first go provide me my breakfast, that I go not fasting about him; then go to the Apothecary, and fetch me some repressive Antidotum to put into the basin, to keep down the venomous vapours that arise from his infectious excrements: for (I tell you) I like not his countenance, I am afraid he labours of the venereal murr.  
Muse not (gentle Thomas) that I come so roughly upon you with Sat down, without any Dedicatory Epistle, which (I know) you expected; for that your Epistle (in some wise) brought forth this small Work: which purposely I omitted, scorning Patronage against you. For if (by an Epistle) I had made some Lord or Knight my Patron, it would have mennaged and given courage to you, that (not sufficient of myself) I should get some Protector to stand out with you. As in a Cockefight, if the Cocke-master takes off his Cock when they are buckled together, it encourageth the other Cock (deeming his adversary to fly to his Master for refuge): so that he crows forth the triumph before the victory. Therefore forsooth, if for order's sake (that of custom might be made a necessary law) you would have an Epistle, I thought it best, respecting the subject matter, as near as possibly I could to pattern it with the like Patron. Than not knowing where to hear of some miscreant, 
O eloquence.  polluted with all vices both of body & mind: and viewing over all the impressed images of men in the memorial cell of my brain, at last I espied yourself more lively engraven than the rest, and as it were offering yourself to this purpose. Then presently I made choice of you, that like an ass you might bear your burden, & patronize your own scourge, as doth the silly hedge-sparrow, that so long fostereth up the cuckoo in her nest, till at length she be devoured of her: or the Viper, that is destroyed of her own whelps. All England for a Patron. But to this sudden joy, (for sudden joy soon ends) this cross happened; That knowing it to be my duty to gratulate my Patron with the first hereof, 
Item for you.  but not knowing where to find you, for that you (the World's Citizen) are here and there, you may dine in this place, & go supperless to bed, if you know where to have your bed: 
Well put in  you may be in one prison to day, and in another to morrow: so that you have a place but as a fleeting incorporeal substance, circumscribed with no limits, that of your own you have not so much as one of Diogenes his poor cottages. You have indeed a terminus a quo (as we Logicians speak) but no terminus ad quem. Now sir, for the uncertainty of your mansion house, 
How hardly I leave this common place?  you having all the world to keep Court in, and being so haunted with an earthquake, that in what house soever you are one day, you are shaken out the next, my little Book might kill three or four porters, that must run up and down London to seek you, and at the last might die itself for want of succour before it comes to your hands. Yet it might be, that in your request you are insatiable, you will take no excuse, your will is your reason, nay may not be admitted. Well, it shall be yours: for your Epistles sake, have at you with an Epistle.   

To the polypragmaticall, parasitupocriticall, and pantophainouden deconticall Puppy Thomas Nashe, Richard Leichfield wisheth the continuance of that he hath: that is, that he want not the want of health, wealth, and liberty.  
Mitto tibi Nashum 
Nashum  pror● N puppi hum que carentem.  
GOD save you (right glossomachicall Thomas.) The virtuous riches, wherewith (as broad spread Fame reporteth) you are endued, though, 〈◊〉, (as saith the poet) which I confirm: for that she is tam fict● pranique tenax, quam nuncia veri, as well saith Master William Lily in his Adi●ctina verbalia in axe. I say the report of your rich virtues so bewitched me toward you, that I cannot but send my poor Book to be virtuously succoured of you, that when both yours & my friends shall see it, they may (for your sake) virtuously accept of it. But, it may be, you deny the Epistle, the Book is of you, the Epistle must be to some other. I answer, you are desirous of an Epistle. Did not Caesar write those things himself which himself did? and did not Lucius that golden Ass speak of himself which was the Ass? & will not you (though an Ass, yet neither golden not silver) patronize that which others took pains to write of you? Caesar and Lucius for that shall live for ever: and so shall you, as long as ever you live. Go too I say, he is an ill horse that will not carry his own provender. But chief I am to tell you of one thing, which I choose to tell you of in my Epistle, both because of Epistles some be denuntiatorie, as also considering that wise saying elsewhere of the precise Schoolmaster: If thy friend commit any enormous offence toward thee, tell him of it in an Epistle. And truly this is a great and enormous offence, at which my choler stands upright, neither will I put it up. Therefore in sad●es provide your Lawyer, I have mine, it will bear as good an action, as if you should have come into another man's house, and never say, Ho● God be here: that is, you wrote a foul Epistle to me, and never told me of it before: you might have said, By your leave sir. I warrant you I writ but this small Epistle to you, and I tell you of it as long before as the Epistle is long. But now I remember me, there was no hatred between us before, and therefore 'twould be proved but chauncemedley. Let it even alone, it cannot be undone, for a thing easily done, never can be undone: and a man may quickly become a knave, but hardly an honest man. And thus (malevolent Tom) I leave thee. From my chamber in Camb. to your 
“ where can you tell? .  
Yours in love usque ad arras. 
That is, that would follow thee 〈◊〉 to the gallows.  Rich: Lichfield.   

YOu see how lovingly I deal with you in my Epistle and tell of your virtues, which (God forgive me for it) is as arrant a lie as ever was told: but to leave these parergasticall speeches and to come to your trimming, 
All your parts.  because I will deal roundly with you, I will cut you with the round cut, in which I include two cuts: First the margin cut: Secondly the perfect cut: The margin cut is nothing else but a preparation to the perfect cut, whereby I might more perfectly discharge that cut upon you, for as in a deep standing pool, the brinks thereof, which are not unfitly called the margins being pared away, we may the better see thereinto: so the margins which fitly we may term the brinks of your stinking standing pool (for it infects the ear as doth the stinking pool the smell) being cut away, I may the better finish this perfect cut and rid myself of you. To the margin cut. When first your Epistle came into my hands, I boldly opened it, and scaling the margins of it I espied a silly note quasi conversant about heads. I said not a word, but turning over a leaf or two more to see if you continued in those simple animadversions and indeed I saw you to be no changeling, for there I espied barbers kn●cking of their fingers, & lousy 〈◊〉, as foolish as the other▪ semper ide● (thought I) might be your mot, and so you will die: then I began to mark the note which you adjoined to your notes that they might be noted, there tossing and turning your book upside down, when the west end of it happened to be upward, me thought your note seemed a D, ah Dunce, Dolt, Dotterell, quoth I, well might it be a D. and for my life for the space of two hours, could I not leave railing of thee all in Ds.  
Now to the perfect cut: I cannot but admire you in the tittle you allow me, seeing we admire monsters as well as virtuous men, and a fool (as oft I have heard Scholars dispute in mine office) as a monster: other Barbers like not the title, it pleaseth me, and all the Dukes in Spa●● cannot show the like, and I think that half a years study did not bring it out of thy dunstical hammer-headed scalp, but thou dost to disgrace me, and thinkest thy title decketh a Barber, and that a Barber with thy title is as a rotten chamber hanged with cloth of arras, but 'tis not so: alas thy reading affords thee not to know the ancient and valorous power of Barbers.  
I could speak how they flourished amongst the Ab●●ts, a fierce, and warlike people, and by the Barbers perpolike cunning as it were amending nature and shaping their faces to more austerity, they became more victorious, as Plutarch recordeth in the life of Theseus: and young striplings newly fit for arms, first were brought to Delphos, and there offered the first fruits of their hair to jupiter, next him the Barbers were served and they cut them, and were as Ioues, Vises to make them fit for war. They flourished before with the Arabians, the Mysians, the Dacians, the Dalmatians, the Macedonians, the Thracians, the Ser●ians, the Sarmacians, the Null and the Bulgarians, as saith Pollidorus Virgil: afterward Alexander entertained into his camps Barbers as the spurs and whetstones of his armies.  
D●●isius that blood-thirsty Tyrant that feared no peers, stood always in fear of Barbers, and rather would have his hair burnt off, than happen into the Barber's hands.  
Therefore in a Barber's shop (as plutarch reporteth) where some few were talking of the Tyranny of the tiger Dionysius. What (said the Barber) are you talking of King Dionysius, whom within these two or three days I must shave? When Dionysius heard of this, he gate the Barber secretly to be put to death, for fear of afterclaps. The Barber's Chair is the very Royal-exchange of news, Barbers the 
None but Barbers meddle with the head.  ●head of all Trades. I could speak of their excellency, for that a man's face (the principal part of him) is committed only to Barbers. All trades adorn the life of man, but none (except Barbers) have the life of man in their power, and to them they hold up their throats ready.  
If they be happy, whom pleasure, profit and honour make happy, than Barbers with great facility attain to happiness. For pleasure, if they be abroad, they are sought too of the best Companions, Knights and Esquires send for them: if at home and at work, they are in pleasing conference; if idle, they pass that time in life-delighting music. For profit, a Barber hath living in all parts of England: he hath money brought in as due as rents, of those whom he never saw before. For honour, Kings and ruling Monarches, (to whom all men crouch with cap in hand and knee on ground) only to Barbers sit barehead, and with bended knees. But for all this, thou sparest not to rail on Barbers (as on all others): & being full of botches and biles thyself, spuest forth thy corruption on all others: but I nought respect it, thy railings rather profit me. For (as Antisthenes was wont to say) a man might as well learn to live well of his ill-willing & abusive enemies, as of his honest friends; of these, by following their virtues, of the others by eschewing their actions, by seeing the effects that followed those actions in his enemies: and as Telep●us (being wounded, and destitute of a saving remedy at home) went even to his enemies and sworn fo●s, to get some soverraigne medicine, so if of my friends I could not learn temperance, I might learn of thee by seeing the effects of thy cankered convicious tongue, for by that thou art brought into contempt, thy talking makes thee be accounted as a purse that cannot be shut, and as an house whose door stands always open, and as that open purse containeth no silver, and in that house is nothing worthy the taking away, so out of thy mouth proceedeth nothing but noisome and ill-savered vomittes of railings: Wherefore draw together the strings, and lock up the door of thy mouth, and before thou speakest such ill corrupted speeches again, let it be lifted of the hingelles, rule I say that little and troublesome Vermin, that small tongue of thine, which in some is not the smallest part of virtue, but in thee the greatest Art of vice, not unlike the Purple fish which whilst the governs her tongue well, it getteth her food and hunteth after her pray, but when she neglect it, it bringeth her destruction, and she is made herself a prey unto the fisher, so that in that small parcel all virtue and vice lies hidden, as is recorded of Kias whom king Amasis commanding to send home the best and most profitable meat from the market, he sent home a tongue, the king demanding a reason, he answered that of a tongue came many profitable and good speeches, and this tongue thou hast not: Then the king sent him to buy the worst and most unprofitable meat, and he likewise bought a tongue, the king also ask the reason of this, from nothing (said he) issueth worse venom then from the tongue, and this tongue thou hast, and this tongue cros●e with the bar of reason, lest thou seem more foolish than those geese in Cilicia, which when the fly in the night time by the hill Taurus, that is possessed of Eagles, are said to get stones into their mouths by which as by a bridle they rain in their cryings, and so quietly pass the greedy talents of the Eagles: but alas why invect I so against thy tongue? lingua a lingeudo, and you know we use always to like in, and so thou shouldest keep in thy poison: or a ligando which is to bind, and so thou shouldest bind up and not disperse abroad that ranker in thee: thy tongue doth but in duty utter that which is committed unto it, 
Mark this secret allegory.  and nature hath set before it a double bull-woorke of teeth to keep in the vagrant words which straying abroad and being surprised may betray the whole city, and the upper bull-woorke sometimes serves for a portcullis, which when any rascally word having not the watchword, that is, reason, shall but enter out of the gates, is presently let down and so it cuts it of before it worketh wrack to the whole Castle: therefore I must of necessity find out another cause of thine infected speech, and now I have found it, fie on thee, I smell thee, thou hast a stinking breath, but a stinking breath (some say) cometh of foul teeth, and if it be so, wash thy teeth Tom, for if thou wouldst draw forth good and clean words out of thy mouth, thou wouldst wash thy teeth as every tapster that goeth to draw good bear will wash the pot before he goeth: but it may be the filth hath so eaten into thy teeth that washing cannot get it away, then do as that venome-bitinge beast that Nile-breede Crocodile, which to purge her teeth of those shivered reeds that are wreathed between by feeding in the water, cometh to● the shore, and there gaping, suffereth some friendly bird without danger to creep into her mouth, and with her bill to pick away the troubling reeds: so come you but to some shore, and I'll be that Trochilus, 
Trochilus  I'll pick your teeth and make a clean mouth, or I'll pick out tongue and all, but of this stinking breath I speak not. Toedet anima saith the Comedian, 
philosophy  and this I mean not meaning as he meant, for he meant a stinking breath, but by anima I mean the form by which thou art, what thou art, by which also thy senses work, which giveth use to all thy faculties and from which all thy actions proceed, and this anima if thou termist a breath, this breath stinketh and from this breath (as little rivers flow from a fountain) all thy words flow forth and the ●ountaine being corrupted (as you know) likewise all the lesser rivers needs must be corrupted, and this anima, this breath or fountain thou must cleanse, but how to cleanse this breath it passeth my cunning to tell, for though (as I am a Cirurgion) I could pick your teeth, for the other stinking breath, yet this I durst not meddle with, this hath need of a metaphisition, and let it suffice for me rudely to take up the bucklers and lay them down again, 
How I bewich thee with facundity.  only to tune the Lute, but to leave to the more cunning to play thereon, Count it enough for me that am but an advincte to a Scholar, that have nothing of myself but what I glean up at the disputation of some Scholars in mine office, let it be sufficient for me (I say) only to tell the reason of this stinking breath, and to leave to more sound Philosophers to determine and set down the remedy of it, but now it may be t●ipsum noscis, you smell your own breath, and find it to be so intoxicated with poison that unless you have present help you are quite undone, you perish utterly, and knowing me to be a man of such excellent parts, 
Ha ha a rage borrowed from your own dunghill.  yea of far better parts then In speech be these eight parts, are very instant with me to unbind the bundle which I gathered at disputations, and give you some remedy for this stinking breath: lo how virtue in the friend casteth forth her beams ever upon her enemy, I am overcome, 
A medicine for a stinking breath.  blushingly I undertake it, and like a bashful maid refuse, yet deign you that favour, then mark, first go get some strong hemp, and work it and temper it so long together till therearise out of it an engine which we call Capistrum, then carry this Capistrum to some beam that lieth a cross, for none else will serve, when it must be strained and the one end of it fasten to the beam, and one the other make a noose of as round a figure as you can for the roundest figure is the most retentive, let the noose be always ready to slide, for man's breath is slippery, then when every thing is fitted, boldly put through thy head, then work the Capistrum over new again, swinge up and down twice or thrice that it may be well strained, and so in short time your old breath will be gone, despair not yet man, probatum est, old Aeson was dead a while but revived again and lived many a year after, but mark, now to the pinch, if Plato's trasmigration hold, (which some men hold that the animae and breathes of men that be dead do fleet into the bodies of other men which shall l●ue, than I hold that some breath seeing thy young body without an anima, and 'twould be hard luck if some breath or other should not be yet straying about for a body, their being continually so many let lose at Tyburn, I say, some unbespoken vagrant breath will go in and possess thy body: now if this remedy help not surely thou art unrecurable, if also thy new breath happen to be as stinking as thy old, thou wilt never have a sweet breath in this world nor then neither. And thus much of my title.  
You know or at the least ought to know that writers should eschew lies as Scorpions, but your lies that you devisd of one are the greatest part of the matter of your Epistle, as, My shop in the town, the teeth that hang out at my Window, my painted ●ay-poole, with many others which fill up room in the Epistle in abundant manner, and which are nothing else but mere lies and fictions to yield the matter, whereby I perceive how threede-bare thou art wax●●, how● 〈◊〉 thy invention is, and that thy true amplifying vain is quite dried up. Repent, repent, I say, and leave of thy lying which without repentance is very heinous, 
Pag: 6.  that one lie I make of thee in this book is presently washed away with repentance. An other lie I cannot but tell you off, which you clap in my teeth in the very beginning of your Epistle, which nothing grieveth me for that I suppose it to be committed of ignorance, that is you tell me that you come upon me with but a dick●● of Dickes, but you come upon me with seventeen or eighteen Dickes, whereby I see thy ignorance in the Greek tongue, thou knowest not what a dicker is, a dicker is but ten of any thing, for it cometh of the Greek word 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 which is by interpretation, 
de k●  Ten▪  
Thou 〈◊〉 that old Tooly and I differed, I confess it, I am a man alone, I scorn such ragged rent-foorth speech, yet thou mayest well pray for the dual number, thou scabbed, scaled, lame, halting adjective as thou art, in all thy guiles, thou never haddest that guile as alone to get thee one crust of bread: no, I know not who had a hand with you in this silly Epistle, go too, he is not a minister, he had but small reason for it: again, you remember the time when your fellow Lusher and you lay in coleharbour together, when you had but one pair of breeches between you both, but not one penny to bless you both, and how by course he woore the breeches one day, and went coney-catching about for victuals, whilst you lay in bed, and the next day you wore the breeches to go beg whilst he lay in bed, for all the world like two bucketes in one well, now suppose, when Lusher wore the breeches, that then thou shouldest have been carried to prison where now thou art, verily I think thou shouldest have escaped prison for want of breeches, or suppose that at that time thou shouldest have been hanged, I cannot but think that the want of a pair of breeches would have been better to thee then thy neck-verse, for the hangman would have his breeches, no fee, no law: but put case that with much ado, by great extraordinary favour some good hangman had done thee this last benefit, that thou mightest never trouble him again, and should have given thee thy hanging frank and free (as indeed happy for thee had it been if this good hap had happened, for than thou shouldst not have lived thus miserably in this vain and wicked world) I say plainly, put case thou hadst been hanged, the hangman not sticking with thee for thy breeches, than Ghacon would have come upon you for his ferry-penny, fi● out, money and breeches as ill as a rope and butter, for if one slip the other hold, with him no 〈◊〉 no wastage, and then thou hadst been in worse case than ever thou wert; thus you see how the want of a pair of breeches might have been the means to have made thee escape prison, death and utter damnation: and O thrice happy Lusher that shouldst have been away with the breeches at that happy time, but when thou wert in thy chiefest pride, if thou hadst but lent out one pair of breeches thou shouldst have been th●● happy.  
Praise from the praiseworthy, and he is not praised whose praiser deserveth not praise, therefore in these places of the Epistle where thou praisest me, I take myself most to be dispraised for that thou the praiser art worthy no praise, for how soever thou lead in a fools paradise, like the fish called a madge, which is said to feed herself with her own snot 
Mucu● snot.  for thereof she takes her name, thou feadest thy-s●lfe with self-conceit that whatsoever cometh from thee is the very quintessence of true wit, and that all thy ribaldry that ever thou fe●●st forth, exceeded in pleasing mirth, that so thou hast embraced true Mi●er●a, when as (God knows) thou art as far deceived as ever was poor Ixion, that embraced a cloud in stead of juno, or that guld-god mostrous accadian Pan, who in stead of that sweet● Nymph Syrinx fumpt a bunch of reeds: yet I must confess thou haste something, thou art as a bundle of straw that being set on fire consumes itself all in smoke, but no warmness cometh from it, so thou hast no true fire in thee, all smother, no thing that can warm a man, thou art as many Ciphers without an I, which they wanting are of themselves nothing, and thou hast much apparency of wit which is as Ciphers, but thou hast not this same 1, jota is wanting to thy Ciphers, thou hast not one jot nor title of true wit, again, as some soldiers that were at Cales breaking into a shop for pillage, and there seeing many great sacks ready trussed up, they with great joy made haste away with them, and so with light hearts carried away their heavy burdens, and when they brought them into the streets, opening them to see their booties, found in some of them nought but red caps, of which afterward they made store of fires, and in the rest nought but earthen pitchers, chaffendishes and pispottes, and such like: so whosoever shall see thee trussed up and in thy clothes, might happily take thee for a wise young man, but when thou shalt be opened, that is, when he shall see but some work of thine, he shall find in thee nought but rascallity and mere delusions, and for this cause thou mayest be called the very Choroebus of our time, of whom the proverb was raised, more fool than Choroebus, who was a silly idiot, but yet had the name of a wise man, for he might be called Choroebus quasi chori Phos, the light of every company into which he came, so thou hast only the name of a wise man and that is Nashe, O wise name, I pray let me christian you a new and you shall be called Choro●●us quasi chori bos, the very bull-head of all he ttroope of pamphleteers: thou goest about to gather jests and to barrel them up into thine alehowse index, that when occasion shall serve thou mightest be a Democritus always to laugh thyself or to cause others to laugh by the idiotism. Thus to conclude, as Daphne chastity was turned into a laurel tree, and so kept her chastity, ●uen so I wish that for thy wit thou mightst be turned into a● ass, that so thou mightst keep thy wit to thyself, and not defile the world withal. But this thou scorn'st, and will prove that thou hast a good wit and thus submissively in eloquence, to make us believe thee, at the first word thou beginst; Nature, that never want to be unequal in her gifts, with me hath broke her wont, and endowed me with a dowry above the rest of her children: but every commodity hath his discommodity, and we cannot always please all; and though all my books did not take as I wished they should, yet most of them did take, as Piers Pe●●●lesse, and others which I will not name, to avoid suspicion of vainglory Argu that had an hundred eyes sometime slept, or else he had not died for it: and wh●● 〈◊〉 ca●e, ●ee had no power to hold open his eyes O fine speech! By this I gather, that thou confessest thyself to be Arg●s, and me Mercury: and if you be Arg●s, hold open your eyes with a pox to ye, I mean ye no ●●rme yet, yet I pipe not to you: but I think it will be my luck to be as ill a scourge to you, as ever Mercu●●● was to Argus. But if you will dispute and prove that you have a good wit, away with your confused bibble b●bble bind up your Arguments into Syllogisms and I will answer you directly. Content say you, and thus you begin. If my fame be spread ●ar abroad, & all the Country confirm that I have a good wit then 'tis true that I have a good wit: But the first proposition is true, therefore I have a good w●t. I answer, ●oore and illiterate Opponent, to contex no 〈◊〉 argument against to firm a Logician as I am. A double Response or Answer extempore I can afford you. First, though your name be blazed abroad, it follows not that you should have a g●od 〈◊〉 for as an empty vessel will sound f●rre that ha●h nothing in ●t; so you may crack yourself abroad, and get to be reported the man you are not.  
Secondly, I grant that you are famous, and that the Country reports you wise. Sententiously I answer, that by a figure the Country is taken here for the common rout only: for none that can but write and read will ever agree to it; and turba m●lum argumentum, as much as to say, the troublesome Commons assertion, never goes for currant. Thus leaving no hole for you to creep in with a second Objection, you betake you to your second Argument.  
If my wit (say you) were not excellent and unanswerable, many who are accounted to have good wits, (to whom I have oft given particular occasion) would have answered me: but they have not answered me, therefore my wit is excellent. Therefore I will answer thee.  
I would to God thou & I were to dispute for the best Mayorship in Spain, faith thou mightest even cast thy cap at it. Dost thou not know that the Lion scorns combat with the base? Wisemen (though moved) will not work revenge on every object? and the more stately oak, the more hardly set on fire? More plainly in a similitude, the like reason is to be gathered of the nettles.  
Even as the nettle keepeth her leaf cleanest, for that no man purgeth his post-pendence (there your nose Thomas) with it; not because they cannot, but because it would sting them if they should, and so for that small good turn, it would work them a more displeasure: so thou art suffered to be quiet, and not wrote against, not for that thou canst not be answered, but that by answering thee they should but give more fodder to thy poison, put more casting to thy gorge; and he that intends to meddle with dung, must make account to defile his fingers.  
Thus thou art quite put down, thou art drawn dry: me thinks I perceive thee wish for some Moderator, that should cry; Egregie Nash (or, you great ass) satisfecisti of 〈◊〉 tuum. And now for want of a Moderator, myself (for fault of a better) will supply that room, and determine of our Disputation. And herein it shall not be amiss, (the Question so requiring, and you also requiring it in that place of your Epistle, where you lay wit to my charge) first to tell what a good wit is. And whereas thou burthenst me to say, that much extraor dinarie descant cannot be made of it: thou liest. For how unjust were men's wits, not to afford us extraordirie descant of that, which giveth us descant for every thing?  
A good wit (therefore) is an affluent spirit, yielding invention to praise or dispraise, or any ways to discourse (with judgement) of every subject. Mistake me not (I pray you) and think not that I think all those to have good wits, that will talk of every subject, and have an oa●e (as we say) in every man's boat: for many fools do so, and so dost thou. These talk not with judgement: they be like the Fellow, who swearing by God, and one standing by, correcting him, said; Fie on thee how th●n talkest. What skills it said he, so long as I talk of God? So I say, thou carest not how without judgement thou talkest on every thing.  
A good wit is it that maketh a man, and he is not a man, that hath not a good wit. The very brutish and savage beasts have wit. Oxen and Asses by their wit choose out the best Pasture to feed in, and thou art no better: for divers men will say, and especially Northerens men, to one that doth any thing unhandsomely, whaten a N●sh it is, for what an ass it is, and an ass all men know hath not a good wit.  
Thu● (by these descriptions) the definitive sentence of my determination in this: Nashe, thou hast not a good wit, thou art a ●●lly fellow, and more silly than Sir Thomas of Carleton, who being a little sick, and the bell ●olling to have him go read Service, the Clerk of the Parish going to him, and telling him that the bell toa●de for him, meaning to go Read, he went presently and made his Will, because the bell toa●de for him: and so do thou, ply thee, mak● thy Will▪ and die betimes before thou be'st killed, for thine own wit w●ll kill th●e: and call you that a good wit that kills a man? All the Wisemen of Greece and Gotam never came to the misery that thy good wit hath brought thee too. My mind presageth the great confusion that thy good wit will bring upon thee. For as the Camel that (come he into never so clear a Fountain) cannot drink of the Water, till he hath roiled and fouled it with his feet: so whatsoever thy wit goet● about, it first defiles it, and so brings destruction to th●●e own body. Thy wit, thy wit Tom, hath rods in p●sse for thee, 'twil whip thee, tw●ll work thine overthrow 'twill quite destroy thee: Actaeon (as wise a man a● you) no ways could escape it, for all his love to his hound's, and swift flight when he saw their felnes, but was devoured of his own dogs.  
But why then (mayst thou say) do I oppose myself against an Ass, seeing now I do no more than all could do, for all the beasts in the field can insult and triumph over the silly Ass, as well the creeping Snail to her power as the fiercest Tiger. A sinus ascdend●, because every Child can ride an ass: therefore 'tis rather a reproachful shame for me to meddle with thee, and by that I get more discredit ●hen th● two Gods got dishonours that conspired the down fall of one s●ely, weak, unable woman. The reason is, I only am left to tell thee thou art an Ass, and if th●u shouldst not be told it, thou wouldst not believe that thou art an Ass. Therefore now at length know th●●e own strength, and knowing that thou art but feeble and hast no strength, blush and be ash●●ed, and then thou shalt see that all the Country hath seen thy ignorance, though kept it in silence, and how this many a year thou hast g●ld them, but they (gentle minded auditors) still, still, expecting better took all in good part whil●● thou like a cowardly unskilful ho●seman moun●ed on a ●ade, coru●ttest and showest thy Cranks a●ong a company of valorous famous capta●nes whose stirrup thou art not worthy to hold: alight and listen unto me, and I even I, that never till now was acquainted with the press, and acknowledge my sel●e far unfit for those things thou professest, I (I say) will read thee a Lecture, hearken, in my gibb●idg (as thou termst it) I will construe thee this short distich which though it wants an author wants no authority.  
Tha●d●te credit duxisse, sed 〈◊〉 D●ana est,  
Namque Actoeoneu● dat tibi Caura capu●.  
Ingenuously thou thee compl●●st an I●us poo●e to be,  
But thou art M●das for thou art an Ass as well as be.  Or thus. 
Some says Nashe is 〈◊〉, but I say he is chaste,  
For he by chasing after whores, 〈◊〉 b●ard away hath chaste.  Otherwise. 
Who says Nash riots day & night, about the streets doth lie.  
For he inprison day and night in fetters fast doth lie.  Again. 
You say I am a fool for this, and I say you say true,  
Than what I say of you is true, for babes and fools say true.  
Now I give not every word their literal sense, and by that you may see how I presume of your good wit, to see if by allusions you can pick out the true meaning, but I use a more plain demonstration and apply it to yourself: for if you will understand any thing a right, you must ever apply it to yourself. It may be thou likest not these veries for that they want rhyming words, and I end both the verses with one word: no, Tom, Noah, think not so, bewray not so thy poetry, for that distich is best contrived, and most elegant that ends both verses with one word if they import a divers sense: but now I see thou art no versifier, thou hast only a prose tongue, & with that thou run'st headlong in thy writing with great premeditation had before, which any man would suppose for the goodness to be extempore, and this is thy good wit: come, I say, come learn of me, I'll teach thee how to pot verses an hour together.  
Thou nothing doubtest (as thou saist) of the pratronage & safe cond●ct of thy book and indeed thou needest not doubt for I never meant it harm, but always wished it might safely pass by me: yet as I was patron to it, I could not but read some of it, but I think if I had read it through 'twould have poisoned me, it stun●e so abhominablye: therefore all the while I was reading of it holding my nose, fie, out said I, had I but known this Cockatrice whilst 'twas in the shell, I would have broken it, it never should have been hatched by my patronage: but 'tis no matter, thy eye-beams will reflect upon thyself, and will be burning glasses to thine own eyes.  
And so in a fury (the country's coming down upon me) I like a stout patron out of all the countries that priest me sore, challenged out the most valiant warrior of them all, Mounse●●● A●●x to single combat, him I overcame, and of him I got safe conduct, and he hath promised safe conduct to all comers of that race, and moreover, he as an other patron hath gotten for them all s●fe conduct from hence to E●ly by water.  
The good admonition thou givest me, that is, to commence, I thankfully take and willingly would undergo, had I but one with whom I might keep mine acts.  
As for mine answer I nothing doubt, that is kept (as I hope) with credit, but my reply is it I stand on, I can get none to answer me, alas, thou art not able, neither fit, for thy want of a beard taketh away half the subject of our disputation, not that I say a beard would make thee wise and so by that thou shouldst be fit to dispute, but because in what Art thou wouldst have me commence, in that I would dispute with thee: therefore suppose I should demand of thee the reason why thou hast so much hair on thy head, and so thin or rather almost none at all on thy face? thou couldst not quaintly answer, because the hair on thy head is twenty years elder than that on thy beard, nor in natural reason, because the brain seated in the head yieldeth more moisture about it then any way downward, by which moisture hair cometh, but thou hast too moist a brain that cannot hold and remember these things, or rather thou hast too hard and dry a brain and so these things were never impressed into it.  
But this is thine answer, 'tis Gods will it should be so, thou wert never borne to have a beard: 'tis true indeed, thus thou mightest answer to all the arguments in the world: but the want of a beard makes thee thus cold in answering, for a beard is a sign of a strong naturals heat and vigour, but the true answer is, thou seekest too many ways to cast out thine excrements, thou art too effeminate and so becomest like a woman without a beard. Again, if I should demand of thee why the hair of a man's head g●oweth downward and not upward, idem ●euolueres, this would be th●e answer, because it pleaseth nature. Dost thou not know that ha●●e is the cover of the head? and therefore 〈◊〉 it will cover it must lie down, and do not all the parts of a man grow downward, though the whole man grows upwards? And therefore the Philosophers say that a man turned downward is a plant, that as a plant hath all her boughs, branches and leaves grow upward, so all the parts of a man are upward when he standeth on his head, as his ●eete, legs, arms, nose, fingers and the rest: but in faith thou turned upward or downward art but a plant or stock to be ignorant in those things: why I marvel of what Art thou didst Commence Bachelor, if I had but the question that thou hadst at thy Sophister's Act, I would dispute on that: but now I see I cannot commence for want of an answerer, and I scorn to keep mine acts inteneb●●s  
In this ●hy trimming, thou being so fit for it, I will wo●ke a wonder on thee, and I will hold any man a w●ger that I will perform ●t, that is, whilst I am w●shing you I will request your 〈◊〉 and put my ●cife to 〈◊〉, and sh●u● you qui●e through and when I have done you shall not be a hair the worry, you ●●y make a riddle of the same if you will, but I will do it, and when I have done, raising myself on my tiptoes, I will so hunt thee for my pay, that thou shouldst be in worse case than the Beaver, who bites off his stones and lays them in the way for the hunter: for which otherwise he should be hunted to the death, 
Leaning on a ●est.  I think verily and in my conscience, I should break thy head and not give the rest again.  
Thou rude wretch, thou wilt be so cosmologizd, if thou be'st catched here, for calling our Masters of Art first Stigmatical, that is burnt with an hot Iron, didst thou ever know any of our Masters of Arts burnt with any Irons? then thou callest them si●ckanters, which is a proper Epithet unto thyself, for Sinckanter cometh of sink and antrum a hole, and as all the puddle and filth in the channel, still runs all a long till it comes to a hole or antrum, and there it sinks in: so all wickedness and abhorred villainy still straying abroad and seeking for an antrum, at last it finds thee which art the very sink and centre where it rests. And surely if thou shouldst have termed me so, I never would have suffered it unrevenged, for as the Torpedo being caught and laid on the ground, striketh a torpour and numbnes into the hand of him that doth power but water on her: so, I do not think but that in thy Epistle thou called'st me but Dick, which is my name contract, and other adjuncts which in their own nature are neither good nor bad, the very remembrance of me stroke such a fear and numbnes into thy joints, that yet thou shakest as not dispossessed of that fearful fever. I will stir thee up and make thee seething hot, and when thou art in thy heat, I will then quell thee by moving of thee more and more, as when a pot seetheth if we lad it and move the liquor up and down, even while it seetheth, we shall make it quiet. Thou little wottest of what a furious spirit I am, for I keeping among such spirits in this place, as thou sayest, am myself become a spirit, and go about with howling cries with my lance in my hand to torture thee, and must not return home, till Ignatius-like thou shalt be carbonadoed, and I shall carry on my launce-point thy bones to hang at my shop window, in steed of a cronet of rotten teeth, as the trophies of my victory: and this shallbe done, comest thou never so soon into my swinge.  
Therefore keep out of my haunt, I have a walk, thou mayst be blasted before thou comest near my walk, 
Spirit walks.  if thou dost but look back and see me in my walk, thy neck will stand awry, thy mouth distorted, thy lips ugly wrested, and thy nose hang hooke-wise. But rather I take thee to be a spirit, for that I talking with thee all this while, cannot have a glance on thee.  
But say, how dost thou for victuals, do not they of thy old acquaintance help thee? if ever thou hadst true friend, now let him show himself, for a friend is tried in adversity: and though the Romans were wont to say, that a true friend was but the salt and sauce of a banquet; yet I say, that a true Friend to thee must be salt, sauce, bread, and all the meat beside. But thou hast never a true Friend, yet thou hast enough of those friends, that would be sauce to thy meat; that is, if thou couldst bid them to a supper, they would come to eat up thy meat, and sauce it with fine talk. But (God knows) thou hast no need of those friends, thou couldst be sauce to thine own meat. Fie on friendship, what is become of it? not one drop nor crumb of friendship between them all? A true Friend (as they say) were more necessary than water and fire: for unless he come and call for it, thou canst not have so much as fire and water; that is, a fire with a cup of small drink by it to nourish thy body. What is become of those true Friends Damon and Pythias, Castor and Pollux, Pylades and Orestes, N●sus and Eu●iolus, Pirithous & Theseus, whom death itself could never separate? Dead? Then ●oue raise some deadly tyrant to massacre that cankered brood of thy companions, that leave their jester desolate in the winter of his affliction. I curse them with more vehemency, because I see some hope in thee, in that thou now seemest simply to betake thee to the truth. For whereas thou wert wont to crack and brag abroad, and indevouredst to show, that there was no learning in which thou wert not expert, and how that thou wert endowed with plenty of the liberal Sciences; which thou knowest to be nothing so: now thou recantest, and in simple truth sayst, thou hast no learning, no not so much as one of the liberal Sciences. Which thou showest unto us by coming forth in thy fetters, for none of the sciences are bondslaves, or kept in chains, they are called liberal quasi libers because they make men free. If these are not sufficient motives for thee, happily let this move thee, that by thy proficiency in philosophy since thou camest into prison, thou hearing of Aesop that dwelled in a tub; of A●a●agora●, who, In prison wrote his especial book Of the quadrature of the Circle: of S●crates, who in prison studied Philosophy, and wrote verses, and yet (as Cardan saith) slept sweetly, so as Socrates gave more light to the prison, than the prison gave darkness to Socrates: And lastly of him that put out his own eyes, and so eclipsed himself of the sight of the world, that he might have a more clear insight into the light of nature: keep thou thyself still in prison, eclispe thee from the sight of the world, gaze only on thyself, that so thou more clearly, seeing thine own deformed nature, mightst labour to reform it, and bring thyself into light again. But (sayst thou) you are a merry man M. Dick, it befits not the wise to mock a man in misery. In truth thou sayst true T●●, and for my minds sake I would not for a shilling but that thou hadst been in prison, it hath made my worship so merry: but because thou continuest my precepts that am a Cambridge●man, from whence all virtue flows, and is the very fountain and Cunduit-head of all learning. O here I could praise Cambridge an hour by the clock.  
Therefore I say, for thy contempt of me I will call thy keeper, and tell how thou'rt stolen out of prison & come to me to help thee off with thy shackles. No Thomas no, I am no picklock, I thank God, I live without picking, though thou livest not without locks. But are you gone, thou wert afraid of thy keeper, go to the place from whence you came, etc. with a knaves name to you. Ha, ha, if I had but followed this matter even a little more, I could have persuaded thee to live and die in prison.  
Alas, I could do any thing with thee now, all thy senses are so taken down Happy (quoth I) in prison? hapless indeed. How happy is the owl caught fast in a lyme-bough, when all the smaller birds do chatter at her for joy? How happy the Rat caught in a trap, and there dies a living death? How happy the tired heart stricken of the Hunter, who runs panting, consuming her breath, and at last faints for want of breath? how happy the wearied hare pursued with dogs, ever looking when they shall tear her in pieces? and how happy the coney-catching weasel ensnared in the Parker's net, and hanged upon a tree? thus happy art thou: with the owl thou art limed and wondered at, with the Rat thou art sore priest, with the heart thou art in a consumption, with the hare thou always expectest a teareing, and with the weasel thou shalt behanged. All these torments are in prison, a demi-hell, where (like fiends) the prisoners crawl about in chains, every one perplexed with his several pain; a darksome labyrinth, out of which thou canst never pass, though guided by a thread.  
O double unhappy soul of thine, that lives so doubly imprisoned, first in thy body, which is a more stinking prison than this where thou art; then, that it accompanieth thy body in this prison. Were it not sufficient that one prison should torture thy soul enough? No, first because thy soul hath too deep a hand in all thy knaveries, 'tis so imprisoned and fettered to thy body, that it cannot go without it Poor So●le, 
Apostrophe.  more miserable than the king's daughter captivated & long time kept imprisoned in the thieves houses, 
Apuleius  at last offering to break away, was condemned to be sewed into the asses body & there to die; for the asses body was dead, and nothing alive in the ass (the prison) to trouble the Maid the prisoner. But thy prison is alive, and all the affections in thy body are as stinking vermin & worms in it, that crawl about thee, gnawing thee, and putting thee to misery. She in short time was sure to die, and so to be free again; thou art still in dying, and hoping for freedom, but still livest, and this augments thy calamity: she should have had her head left out to breath into the air, but thou breathest into thy prison thy body, that corrupts within thee, and so returns to be thine own poison. Thus much misery (poor soul) thine own body affords thee, and by being with thy body in the second prison, all this is doubled. Now if thou wouldst be free from thy prisons, make a hole in thy first prison, 
Continuata Metaphora.  break out there, and so thou escapest both, thou never canst be caught again: and by this thou shalt cry quittance with thy body, that thus hath tormented thee, and shalt leave him buried in a perpetual dungeon.  
Here let me give a cut or two on thy latest bred excrements, before I go to the finishing of the perfect Cut.  
A littie lump of lead, while it is round will lie in a small room, but being beaten it will spread broad, and require a larger place to contain it; and a rope bound fast up, might easily be covered, but unfolded & drawn out at length, it hardly can be hidden: so you (simply considered) are of no report, but if you be untrust and beaten out, & your actions all unfolded, your name cannot be limited. And now you, having a care of your credit▪ scorning to lie wrapped up in oblivion the moth of fame, have augmented the stretcht-out line of your deeds, by that most infamous, most dunsicall and thrice opprobrious work The I'll of Dogs: for which you are greatly in request; that, as when a stone is cast into the water, many circles arise from it, and one succeed another, that if one goeth not round, the other following might be adjoined to it, and so make the full circle: so, if such infinite store of your deeds are not sufficient to purchase to you eternal shame and sorrow, there arise from you more under then to help forward: and last of all cometh this your last work, which maketh all sure, and leaveth a sign behind it. 
Cropped ear●  And of this your last work, I must needs say somewhat: for seeing that this my first work & offspring hath remained in my womb beyond the time allotted, it must needs be grown greater; and if it become a monster, it must needs be in excess.  
O yes, O yes: 
A proclamation for T. Nashe.  if there be any manner of man, person or persons, can bring any tidings of Tho: Nashe Gentleman, le●hym come and give knowledge thereof, & he shallbe plenteously rewarded.  
Hark you Thomas, the Crier calls you. What, a fugitive? how comes that to pass, that thou a man of so good an education, & so well backed by the Muses, shouldst prove a fugitive? But alas, thy Muses brought thee to this misery: you and your Muses may even go hang yourselves: now you may wish, that he that first put the Muses into your head, had knocked out your horns. But seeing it hath so happened, call for your Thalia among your Muses, let her play some music, and I will dance at your hanging? But 'twas providence in thee, to foresee thy woe, and to labour to eschew it, if not by averring what you have said, and standing too it, yet by showing your heels. For as is the Proverb; Vbi leo●●na peli●s insufficiens est, vulpina astutia assuenda est. If by strong hand you cannot obtain it, light heels are to be required; for one pair of legs are worth two pair of hands. And of all the part● of thy body, thy legs are thy most trusty servants: for in all thy life when as thou couldst not obtain of any of the parts of thy body to effect thy will, yet legs thou hadst to command for to walk and flee whether soever was thy pleasure, neither now in this extremity do they deceive thee. O, how much art thou beholding to thy legs? Banks was not so much beholding to his Horse, that served to ride on, and to do such wonderfu'l cranks, as thou art to thy legs, which have thus cunningly conveyed thee. If every beggar by the high ways side (having his legs corrupted and half destroyed with botches, biles and fistulas) maketh much of them, getteth stilts and creepeth easily on them, for fear of hurting them, because they maintain them, and prove better unto them than many an honest Trade; then why shouldest not thou (by an argument a malo in peius) make much of thy legs, which by speedy carriage of thee from place to place to get thee victuals, do not only maintain thy life, but also at this time have saved thy life, by their true service unto thee. Wherefore (these things considered) thou canst not choose but in all humility offer thy old shoes for sacrifice to Thetis for thy swiftfeets. And 'twas wisely done of that high dread Liech Apollo to appoint Pisces the Sign to the feet, to show that a man should be as swift as a fish about his affairs. Ne'ertheless can I accuse you of laziness,: for all this time of your vagation, with you I think the Sign hath been in Pisces. Now in this thy flight thou art a night-bird, for the day will bewray thee: the Bat and the Owl be thy fellow travelers. But to come roundly unto you, this cannot long continue: the Owl sometime is snarld in the day season, and old Father Time at length will bring you to light. Therefore, were you as well provided to continue your flight, as is the beast Ephemeron, which because she hath but one day to live, hath many legs, four wings, and all what Nature can afford, to give her expedition to see about the world for her one days pleasure: or as Pegasus that winged Horse, which in swiftness equalleth the Horses of the Sun, which in one natural day perambulate all the world: or as the beast Alce, which runneth on the snow with such celerity that she never sinketh unto the ground: Were you (I say) as swift as any of these, you shall be catched, such is your destiny: and then your punishment shall be doubled on you, both for your flying, and your other villainy.  
Since that thy Isle of Dogs hath made thee thus miserable, I cannot but account thee a Dog, and chide and rate thee as a Dog that hath done a fault. And yet do not I know why I should blame Dogs? for Can, which signifieth a Dog, is also a most trusty Servant; for that Dogs are faithful Servants, to whom their Masters in the night time give in charge all their treasure. They are at command to wait upon their Masters, whether they bend their journey, to fight for them against their Enemies, and to spend their lives to defend them, and to offend their adversaries, as we read of King Cazament: who being exiled, brought with him from banishment two hundredth Dogs, which (with wonderful fierceness) warred against their resistants: in whom he reposed much more confidence & hope of victory, again to be seated in his throne, th●n if he had been defended by a mighty host of armed men. And ●asons dog, his master being dead, never would eat any meat, but with great grief and hunger died for company. Tycius the Sa●ine had a dog which accompanied him to prison, and when he was dead, he remained howling by the carcase: to whom when one cast meat, he laid it to the mouth of his dead master, to revive him again: and when his corpses was thrown into the river Tiber, the dog leapt after it, so that all the people wondered at the love of this faithful creature. P●●rhus the King going a journey, came by a dog which kept the body of a dead man: which when he saw, he commanded the body to be buried, and the dog to be brought home with him: this done, a few days after came soldiers before the King, among whom the dog espied them which killed his master, and barked incessantly at them; sometime looking and fawning on the King, and then barked again. At which sign the King astonished, examined them, and upon light examinations they confessed the murder, and took punishment for it. Further, we read of a dog called Capparus in Athens, which in the night pursued a thief that rob a Church, & being driven back with stones by the Thief, followed him aloof off, but always kept him in sight, and at last came to him, and sat by him while he slept. The next morn, so soon as ever the suns golden crown 'gan to appear, and his fiery steeds trapperd in their capparisons set on their wont race, the thief fleeing, the dog still kept his chase, and complained in his language to the passengers of the thief. At last he was taken and brought back, before whom the dog came all the way leaping and exulting for joy, as to whom all the praise was due for this deed.  
The Athenians decreed that for this public good, the dog should be kept by public charges, and the care of his keeping was always afterward laid upon the Priests. And I fear me, and almost divine so much, that the very dogs (wheresoever thou playst least in sight) will bewray thee and bring thee to thy torture. Again, (among the Egyptians) Saturn was called Ky●n, because as a pregnant woman, he begat all things of himself and in himself; and in antic time they worshipped dogs, and had them in great account, till on a time when Cambyses killed a man and cast him away, no other beast but a dog ravened in the dead carcase.  
Lastly, to come nearer to yourself, you shall hear of a dog that was an excellent Actor. In Rome there was a Stage-player, which set out a History of divers personages, among whom there was a dog to be poisoned and revive again; a Part of no less difficulty than the king or the clown, and was as well performed: for (at his time) he eat the poison, and presently (drunkard-like) stackered up and down, reeling backward and forward, bending his head to the ground, as if it were too heavy for his body, as his Part was; and at last fell down, stretched himself upon the stage, and lay for dead. Soon after, when his Cue was spoken, first by little and little he began to move himself, and then stretching forth his legs, as though he awaked from a deepesleepe, and lifting up his head, looked about him: then he arose, and came to him to whom his part was he should come: which thing (besides the great pleasure) moved wonderful admiration in old Ve●pasian the Emperor there present, and in all the other that were spectators.  
These pretty tales of dogs might keep me from chiding of thee, but thou art no such dog; these were all well nurtured when they were whelps, you not so: the worm was not plucked out from under your tongue, so that you have run mad, and bit venom ever since: for these are the properties of a mad dog.  
First, the black choler which reigneth in them turneth to madness most commonly in the Spring-time and in Autumn: and you though you are mad all the year, yet have showed the sign of it especially this last Autumn; they, always run with their mouths open and their tongues hanging out, we know how wide your mouth is, how long your tongue; your mouth is never shut, your tongue never tied: slauer and foam fall from their jaws as they run, and 'tis but slaver that proceedeth from thy mouth: though their eyes be open, yet they stumble on every object; so though thou s●est who offends thee not, yet thou all offendest: they whosoever are bitten with a mad dog also run mad, and they whom thy ulcered tongue did bite, are so stirred up by it, that till they have got you and wormed you, they cannot be well: thus you may see to what misery you were borne. Woe to the teats of thy Dam that gave thee suck, and woe to blind fortune, that she opened not her eyes to see to afford thee better fortune: and woe to the dog-days, for in those thou wroughtest that which now works thy wo●, take heed hereafter what you do in dog-days. The nature's secretaries record of that kind of goat called Ory●e, that all the year her throat is shut, the strings of her voice tied, till dog-days come, & then that very day and hour in which the dog-star first appeareth (at which time dog-days begin) she openeth her voice and crieth: the like miracle these last dog-days have done of thee, for what all the whole year could not bring to pass, and all the Country long have expected, that is, thy confusion, these dogdays by th●ne own words have effected: therefore happy hadst thou been if thou hadst remained still in London, that thou mightest have been knocked on the head with many of thy fellows these dog-days, for now the further thou fleest, the further thou run'st into thy calamity: there is watch laid for you, you cannot escape; th'u'rt in as ill a taking as the Ha●e, which being all the day hunted, at last concludes to die, for (said she) whether should I fly to escape these dogs, if I should fly to heaven, there is canissidus celeste: 
The dog-star.  if I should run into the sea, there is canis p●scis marinus, and here on earth millions of dogs seek to torment me; 
The dogfish.  ay me, heaven, earth and sea conspire my tragedy: and as woeful as the Coney which escaping the Weasel fell into the hunter's net, of which was that pithy Epigram, Would to God the Weasel with my blood had sucked out my life, for now I am kept a prey for the ravening dogs, and cruell-harted mansits laughing whilst my body is broken up, and my guts divided into many shares: and though yet thou hast escaped thy snares, it will not be long ere thou be'st taken and then there's laughing work for all the Country; for though thy body were shared into infinite individuals, yet every one could not have his part whom thou hast abused, for recompense for thy injury done unto him.  
Now let me see thy punishment for thy Isle of dogs, 'tis an ancient custom in our Country when we take a dog that hath done a fault, presently to crop his ears, and this surely for thy fault is thy punishment, but why (might some say) are thine ears punished for thy tongue's fault?  
I answer, thine ears are worthy to be punished for not discharging their office, for whereas they should hear before thou speakest, as they that be skilful at the ball, first receive the ball before they cast it forth again; and into a vessel there is first infusion before there be effusion out of the same; the over pregnant dog (we see) bringeth forth blind puppies, and the spider that prepares her matter and weaves her web together at the same time, makes but slender work of it, and easy to be broken of every fly. I say, whereas thou shouldst first have heard, thou first speakest, thy tongue was in thy ears place, and for this cause thine ears are justly punished.  
Nature gave thee two ears and but one tongue because thou shouldst hear more than thou shouldest speak but because thou hast spoken more than ever thou heardst, thine ears shall be taken from thee: She set thine eyes and thine ears both of equal highness and always open, that they might be ready to hear and to see, but thy tongue she put into a case that it might be slow to speak; but thine ears were dull to hear, and thy tongue too quick of speech: Therefore thine ears deserve their punishment: Then to be short, to have thine cropped is thy punishment: 
Ha ha ha.  What Tom, are thine ears gone? O fine man will you buy a fine dog? Why thou art in the fashion, 
〈…〉  thou art privileged to wear long locks by ancient charter, but now if the fashion were as hot as ever 'twas to wear rings in their ears, faith thou must wear thine even in thy tongue, because that cozened thee of thine ears: are thy ears so movable? art thou a monster? indeed all beasts have free moving of their ears granted to them, but for men I never knew any but thee have their ears moving, and thine I see to have the gentle quite remove: I think 'tis a diseased, for I am assure 'tis a horrible pain to be troubled with the moving of the ears. I conjecture no goodness by this strange accident of movable ears this year, I hope shortly we shall have Ball●●●s out of it. I am afraid I tell you by this strange sign that we shall have a wet winter this year, for if it be true (which the Philosophers affirm) that when an Ass' ears hang down toward the ground, 'tis a certain sign of rain instant, then seeing thine ears not only hang toward the ground, but even drop down to the ground, how can it choose but be a sign of great wet at hand? and to thee it should be a cause of perpetual showers that should flow from thine eyes, but thou art d●ye, no drop of grace from thine eyes. It taking away of thine ears could take away thy hearing too, 'twere some profit for thee, for than thou shouldst not hear thyself railed on, laughed at, nor know thyself to be a mocking stock to all the Country but there is a more plain way made to thy hearing organs, so that thou shalt more lightly hear thyself every where called crop-card cur. What wilt thou give me if I (I am a Chirurgeon) make a new pair of ears grow out of thy head, which passeth Apollo's cunning, that so thou mayst still live with fame in thine own country, or if I heal them as though thou never hadst any, that I may go with thee into Germany and there show thee for a strange beast bred in England, with a face like a man, with no ears, with a tongue like a venomous Serpent, and a nose like no body. The last I care not if I consented to: if tho● wouldst live in good order but one half year, but to the first that is to give thee new ears, I never will grant though thou shouldst be inspired to live orderly all the residue of thy life, no though I had wax & all things ready, for long a go hast thou deserved this disgrace to be earelesse, ever since thou beganst to write, for libels deserve that punishment, and every book which yet thou hast written is a libel, and whomsoever thou namest in thy book hath a libel made of him, thou purposing to speak well of him; such is the malice of thy cankered tongue. Therefore thou deservedst to lose thine ears for naming the Bishop of Ely and of Lincoln, and for writing of Christ's tears over jerusalem: how darest thou take such holy matters into thy stinking mouth, so to defile and pollute them? your Dildoe & such subjects are fit matter for you, for of those you cannot speak amiss, the more you rail of them the nearer you touch the matter: but because you were not punished for those libels, you began your old course again, canis ad vomitum, you began to chew the cud of your villainy and to bring more libels into light. But I hope this last libel will revenge the rest.  
We hear how you threatened to spoil our stirring Satirist: alas, have thy writings such efficacy? indeed they are poisoned, but poison will not work on every subject: and if thou shouldst but name him, so that it might give but any blemish to his fame, assure thyself to be met withal of troops of Scholars which will soon make thee be one of Terence his parasites: in wounds thou shalt exceed Cass●anus which was so pitifully pinked of his own Scholars: & now whilst I am in the hot invective I have a message to do to you, the townsmen of Cherrihinton send you commendations, & they demand a reason of you why you call them clowns? they say, they never offered you any wrong, wherefore if ever you come that way, they will send all the dogs in the town after you to pluck off your ears if they be not gone before you come. Now I think it be time to remember my promise to the readers, that is that I be not irksome to them with tediousness, that so they might with good acceptance digest what hitherto they have read: therefore I will draw toward an end and so finish this perfect Cut.  
Whereas thou commendest thy Epistle to me as a garment for a fool, and therefore that it should be long: I (as is thy desire) have cut it with my scissors, laid it open, and according to that pattern have made a coat for thyself, but it is so short that thou shalt not need to curtail it, for some fools have long coats for that cause only, that they might the better hide their folly and cover their nakedness, which else all should see, yet I have made thy coat short and little, that by thy behaviour in it thou mayst bewray to others thy simplicity, & if I had took in hand to have made it great enough to cover all thy folly, this is not the twentieth part of stuff that would have served, neither possibly couldst thou have had thy new coat against this time▪ but seeing thy garment is dispatched for thee, wear it and use it well, for the fashion of long clothes is wearing away, & short clothes will shortly be in request again, and then thou shalt be a fool of the fashion, as soon as the proudest of them all.  
Again, this coat for thy body and the cool irons for thy legs will be a most cooling suit for thee all this Summer time, therefore make much of it, let it not be thy every day suit but as the Vtopians were wont to make them suits of ●eather, which lasted seven years, in which they did all their labour, and when they went abroad they cast on their cloaks which hide their leather clothes and made them seem comely and handsome: so if thou canst but get some old, greafie, cast sustian suit to wear within doors, this coat will serve thee to cast on to jet abroad in, and do thee credit.  
Wherefore (good Tom) I exhort thee to keep thee (whilst thou art) in good case, thou art well appareled, it may be thou presently wilt bestow a coat of me, do not so, all thy coats are threadbare and I need them not, though thou hast many, for I know thou hast three or four coats ready made (like a saleman) for some body: then, to which soever thou sowest but a patch or two concerning me, that coat shall serve me: thou puttest divers stuff into one coat, and this is thy use in all thy confutations, as in this thy book thou bringest into the party against whom thou wr●●est, his brothers, which argueth (as I said before) want of invention, but it skills not, thou art privileged never to go from the matter, it might as well be permitted in thee as in the historian that promising to speak of the faith of the jews, made a long tale of N●lus: but (as I said) be a good husband Tom and keep thy coat to thyself, thou wilt need th●m all, and when this coat which which I bestow on thee shall wax threadbare, I will dress it for thee the second time and give it thee again.  
This I speak not to wage discord against thee, but rather to make an end of all jars, that as wife & husband will brawl and be at mortal feud all the day long, but when board or bed time come they are friends again and lovingly kiss one an other: so though hitherto we have disagreed and been at odds, yet this one coat shall contain us both, which thou shalt wear as the cognisance of my singular love towards thee, that we living in mutual love may so die, and at last loving like two brothers Castor and Pollux, or the two sisters Vrs● maior and Vrsa minor we may be carried up to heaven together, and there translated into two stars.  
Finally these things considered aright, in love I beseech thee (that thou mayst see I am not past grace) to suffer me to retort thy grace, and so to end, which myself will follow for you; you suing sub forma pauperis.   

A Grace in the behalf of Thomas Nashe.  
TO all ballet-makers, pamphleteers, press hanters, boon pot poets, and such like, to whom these presents shall come greeting. Whereas Tho: Nashe the bearer hereof, borne I know not where, educated sometime at Cambridge: where (being distracted of his wits) he self into divers misdemeanours, which were the first steps that brought him to this poore-estate. As namely in his fresh-time ●ow he flourished in all impudency toward Scholars, and abuse to the Townsmen; insomuch, that to this day the Townsmen call every untoward Scholar of whom there is great hope, a very Nashe. Then being Bachelor of Art, which by great labour he got, to she● afterward that he was not unworthy of it, had a hand in a Show called Terminus & non terminus, for which his partner in it was expelled the College: but this foresaid N●she played in it (as I suppose) the Varlet of Clubs; which he acted with such natural affection, that all the spectator's took him to be the very same. Then suspecting himself that he should be stayed for egreg●e dunsus, and not attain to the next Degree, said he had commenced enough, and so forsook Cambridge, being Bachelor of the third year. Then he raised himself unto an higher C●ime, no less than London could serve him: where somewhat recovered of his wits, by the excrements thereof (for the space of nine or ten year) he hath got his belly fed and his back clothed. As also I hope you are not ignorant how he hath troubled the Press all this time, and published sundry works & volumes, which I take with me as humble fellow-suters to you, that you being all in one strain (and that very low, he in a highe-key) ●ou would vouchsafe to take him as your graduate Captain general in all villainy: to which villainy conjoin your voices and in which villainy pray and say together, Vivat, ●●●iatur Nashe. To these premises▪ that they are true, and that he among yo● all is only worthy this title, I (as head Lecturer) put too my hand.  
Richard Lichfield.   

But Tom, thyself art past grace: for some of thine own faction, envying thy proficiency and honour to which thou aspirest, hath pocketed thy Grace. O envy, caterpillar to virtue! But let him know that thou hast a Patron will stick to thee, and that thou art gracious in more Faculties than one, I will put up another Grace for thee, wherein he shall have no voice, and one only man an old friend of thine shall strike it dead.   

A Grace in the behalf of Thomas Nashe, to the right wo●sh●pfull and grand Commander of all the superrants & sub●ercubants of England's great Metropolis, the Prou●st Marshal of London.  
FOrasmuch as Thomas Nash sundry and oftentimes hath been cast into many prisons (by full authority) for his misbehaviours, and hath polluted them all▪ so that there is not one prison in London, that is not infected with Nashes evil: and being lately set at liberty, rangeth up and down, gathering poison in every place, whereby he 〈◊〉 ●he common air; I am to desire you that as you tender the common good of the weal public, and as the virtue of your office requireth▪ which is to cleanse the City of all vicious and unruly persons, when this above named N●she shall happen into your presinctes or dioceses of your authority you would give him his unction in the highest degree, and cleanse us quite of him, which you shall effect thus. Send him not to prisons any more which are corrupted by him already, but commit him to the Proctor of the Sp●●tle, where he shall not stay long lest he breed a plague among them also: but pass from him to Bull, who by your permission having full power over him and being of such amiable and dexterious facility in discharging his duty, will soon knit the knot of life and death upon him, stronger than that Gordian knot never to be loosed, and by that pretty trick of fast and lose, will lose your City from him and him from all his infections, and will hang him in so sweet & clear a prospect as that it willbe greatly to your credit to see the great concourse thither of all sect of people● as first, I with my brethren the Ba●ber-Chirurgions of London, will be there, because we cannot phlebotamize him, to anatomize him and keep his bons as a chronicle to show many ages hereafter that sometime lived such a man, our posterity having by tradition what he was▪ and you in some part might: be chronicled (as well as S. George) for destroying this serpen●: them there will flock all the Cunni● catchers of London to see the portraiture of the arch architect of their art: lastly, all the Ballad-makers of London his very enemies that stayed his last grace, will be there to hea●e his confession, and out of his last words will make Epitaphs of him, & afterward Ballads of the life and death of Thomas Nash. Let this grace pass as soon as may be, if not for any particular love to him▪ yet as you are a Magistrate of the City, and aught to know what 'tis to prefer a public commodititie: 〈◊〉 this grace pass not, he is like to be stayed finally till the next year. This head-lecturer present him to you.  
Richard Lichfield.   

Thus (courteous Gentlemen) I have brought you ●o the end of his trimming, though he be not so curiously done as he deserveth: hold me excused, he is the first man that ever I cut on this fashion. And if perhaps in this Trimming I have cut more parts of him than are necessary, let me hear your censures, and in my next Cut I will not be so lavish: but as the Curate, who when he was first installed into his Benefice, and among other Injunctions being injoind (as the order is) to forewarn his Parish of Holidays, that they might fast for them: and thinking all those Holy days which he saw in his Calendar written with red letters, on a time said to his Parishioners, You must fast next wednesday for Saint Sol in V●●go, which is on thursday, because he saw it in red letters. Which moo●●d laughter to the wise of the Parish; who presently instructed him, that over what red words soever he saw Fast written, those he● should bid Holidays: so in short time he became expert in it. In like manner, I having but newly taken Orders in these affairs, if here I have been too prodigal in 〈◊〉 snaps, tell me of it, limit me with a Fast, and in short time you shall see me reform.  
FINIS.