SWORD and Buckler, OR, SERVINGMAN'S DEFENCE.  
By WILLIAM BAS.  
— Agimusque haec praelia verbis.  
AT LONDON Imprinted for M. L. and are to be sold at his shop in S. Dunston's Churchyard. 1602.   

TO THE HONEST AND FAITHFUL BROTHERhood of True-hearts, all the old and young serving-men of England, health and happiness.  

I That in service yet have never known  
More than might well content my humbled heart:  
(I thank the God of heavens mighty Throne,  
My master's favour, and mine own desert)  
Yet am for you the Champion of good will,  
Because I feelingly conceive your ill.   

To tax their minds to whom we do belong,  
I neither purpose nor desiet much:  
The public multitude that does us wrong,  
And none but them my vain must chiefly touch,  
In whose rude thoughts my youth is grieved to see,  
That serving-men so slightly reckoned be.   

Long stood we mute, and heard ourselves defamed  
In every moody jest, and idle brawl:  
But now our prize is seriously proclaimed,  
And I become the challenger for all:  
My stage is peace, my combat is a word,  
My Muse my buckler, and my pen my sword.   

Who treads my stage is challenged, yet not tried:  
Who tries my combat fights, yet feels no weapon:  
Who sees my buckler's dared, but not defied:  
Who touch my sword is hit, but never beaten:  
For peace tries no man, words can make no fight,  
Muses do but invent, and pens but write.   

Now if my actions prosper, you shall see  
Your titles graced with greater estimation:  
Or at the least we shall no longer be  
Deprived of deserved reputation.  
But if my first attempts have no prevailing,  
I will supply them still in never failing   
To be your faithful brother, Will. Bas.   

TO THE READER.  

Read if you will: And if you will not choose,  
My book (Sir) shall be read though you refuse:  
But if you do, I pray commend my wit:  
For by my faith 't is first that ere I writ.  
Who reads and not commends, it is a rule  
To hold him very wise, or very fool.   

But whosoe'er commends, and doth not reed,  
What ere the other is, he's a fool indeed:  
But who doth neither read nor yet commend,  
God speed him well, his labour's at an end.  
But read, or praise, or not, or how it pass,  
I rest your honest, careless friend,   
Will. Bas.   

SWORD AND BUCKLER, OR, SERVINGMAN'S DEFENCE.  

1  
A Man that's neither borne to wealth nor place,  
But to the mere despite of Fortune's brow,  
Though peradventure well endued with grace,  
Of stature, form, and other gifts enough,  
Submits himself unto a servile yoke,  
And is content to wear a livery cloak.   

2  
Whether it be by hard constraint of need,  
Or love to be made perfect in good fashion,  
Or by the means of some unlawful deed,  
That might deprive an ancient reputation:  
Whoever to this course himself doth give,  
Is called a serving-man. And thus doth live.   

3  
Continually at hand, to see, to hear  
His Lords, his Masters, Ladies, Mistress will,  
T'attempt with duty, readiness and fear,  
What they command, his service to fulfil:  
And yet not as he would, but as he shall,  
To grudge at nothing, to accept of all.   

4  
To act with truth and serviceable skill,  
The tasks or offices imposed on him,  
To be observant and industrious still,  
Well mannered, and disposed to go as trim,  
As wages, gifts, or proper state affords,  
Active in deeds, and courteous in words.   

5  
Having a head well wont to abide  
To go without his shelter, cold and bare,  
Having a heart well hammered, strongly tried  
On Chances Anvils, furnaces of care,  
A good capacity to understand,  
A legging foot, a well-embracing hand.   

6  
This man of all things must abandon pride,  
Chiefly in gestures, and in acts exterior:  
For greater states can by no means abide  
Ambition in a person so inferior:  
Yet in his private thoughts no whit dismissed  
To prise his reputation as he list.   

7  
Though if he be himself of gentle blood,  
Or of his nature loftily disposed:  
Yet never let him brag himself so good,  
But rather hold such matters undisclosde,  
And keep his state and carriage in one fashion,  
Gracing himself with inward estimation.   

8  
For if we do insult in terms or show  
Above our callings, than we seem to serve:  
But if we humble our affections low,  
We must needs gain the love of them we serve:  
Which to our merits if they list not pay,  
Then we are men of more respect than they.   

9  
But in these Times (alas poor serving-men)  
How cheap a credit are we grown into?  
With what enforcing taxes now and then  
This envious world doth our estates pursue?  
How poor alas we are ordained to be,  
How ill regarded in our poverty?   

10  
What duty, what obedience daily now  
Our hard commanders look for at our hands?  
And yet how deadly cold their bounties grow,  
And how unconstant all their favours stands,  
How much we hazard, for how little gain,  
How frail our state, how mean our entertain?   

11  
How subject are we to the checking front,  
For every small and trifled oversight?  
Compelled to shift, predestinate to want,  
Surfeit with wrong, yet dare demand no right:  
Organs of profit, upon imputation,  
Outcasts of loss, on every small occasion.   

12  
Our Lords they charge, our Ladies they command,  
And who but us? And for a thing not done,  
Our Lords and Ladies anger out of hand,  
Must turn us walking in the Summer's Sun,  
While those things that are done must always lie,  
As objects to a nice exceptious eye.   

13  
In commonwealth or businesses of state,  
If Lord or Master exercised hath been,  
Who but his servant thereupon must wait,  
What accidents soever fall therein,  
And be industrious in all means he can:  
For why he wears his badge, and is his man.   

14  
And in contempt of any adversary,  
Or mortal trial of the life or land;  
How oftentimes the master might miscarry,  
Unless he be attended and well manned  
With serving resolutes, that at a word  
Will rather lose their lives, than leave their Lord.   

15  
But what should I care to recount or no  
Partiquerly every thing we do?  
Ye Lords and Masters cannot choose but know,  
That whatsoever thing belongs to you,  
That danger, trouble, pains, attention asks,  
We are your servants, and it is our tasks.   

16  
Your slight regard and recompense of this,  
So duplifies the bondage of our state,  
That oftentimes solicited amiss  
By extreme want: and overruled by fate,  
Thereby it comes to pass that now and then  
Many mischances hap to serving-men.   

17  
The country then that with her purblind eyes  
Beholds these things in loathsome ignorance,  
Catch at report, and piece it out with lies,  
Rash censures, and defaming circumstance,  
Affirming what they would have oft denied,  
If in such case they might be roughly tried.   

18  
But see how hateful is but lately grown  
This fatal title of a serving-man,  
That every dunghill clown and every Drone,  
Nor wise in nature nor condition,  
Spares not to vilify our name and place,  
In duncical reproach, and blockish phrase.   

19  
A morkin-gnoffe that in his Chimney nook  
Sits carping how t'advance his shapeless brood,  
And in their several properties doth look,  
To see what's best to bring them all to good:  
One points he out a Smith, and one a Baker,  
A third a Piper, fourth a Coller-maker.   

20  
If one more native gentle than the rest,  
To be a serving-man doth now demand,  
Up starts his sire as bedlim or possessed,  
And asks his son and if he will be hanged,  
Shalt be a hangman villain first (quoth he)  
Amen (say I) so he be none for me,   

21  
The pearking Citizen, and mincing Dame  
Of any paltry beggared Market town,  
Through rotten teeth will giggle out the same,  
Though not in so harsh manner as the clown:  
I have but two sons, but if I had ten,  
The worst of them should be no serving-men.   

22  
Thus is our servile innocence exposed,  
To the reproachful censures of all sorts,  
To whom our lives were justly ne▪ r disclode,  
But by uncertain larums, false reports,  
Whereof, men apt to judge (be't truth or no)  
Do rashly speak, before they rightly know.   

23  
Who let's us now to find our own defence,  
Against all such encounters offered thus?  
Who is so void of love, or bare of sense,  
To think it any misdemeasne in us,  
If we to right ourselves do fall again  
Into our ancient Sword and Buckler vain.   

24  
Yet will we not an Insurrection make  
Against our own superior Lords and Masters,  
With whose kind love we may more order take  
By duty, then by trying out with wasters,  
Though in this case who need to fear our might,  
For we mean nothing but a speaking fight.   

25  
But you the nice-tongued housewives of our time,  
That seldom cease to execrate our calling,  
We do esteem it now an odious crime,  
With your licentious mouths to stand a brawling:  
Our Sword and Buckler's out, our stomach's come,  
We will not hurt you much, but hit you home.   

26  
Yet do we not reply to only you,  
Or those that you instruct, but every man  
That gives us more discourtesy then due:  
The Merchant, or the Machiavellian,  
The Yeoman, Trades-man, Clown or any one,  
What ere he be we turn our backs to none.   

27  
You Gentles all that through your worthiness,  
Your birth, your place, your wealth or other cause,  
Deserve to entertain and to possess  
These serving-men the subjects of your laws,  
Be moved not with wrath and spleenish freaks,  
When in their right your poor inferior speaks.   

28  
When you command, remember't is but speech  
To bid a thing be acted to your mind,  
Th'obedient man that shall perform the which,  
In doing it, shall greater labour find:  
Yet where a servants diligence may please,  
He may do all his acts with greater ease.   

29  
You give him food and wages: That's most true,  
And other matters to sustain his living:  
Why, else he is not bound to follow you:  
Ill service that is worth no more than giving.  
Who Rent's your lands is sure to pay to you,  
And if y'have servants, you must pay them too.   

30  
Alas, if must your great affairs be done,  
Know that fair means increase your servants vigour:  
Hearts by unpleasing checks are never won,  
And willingness is not enlarged by rigour,  
When good respect may cherish servile hearts,  
And help t'augment the number of deserts.   

31  
If with reviling, and disdainful scorn  
You urge us with the baseness of our kind,  
Pray who was Adam's man when Cain was borne?  
Or in what scripture do we read or find,  
That ever God created Adam's two,  
Or we proceeded of worse stock than you?   

32  
For though that like a brood of stars divine  
You thus maintain your glory without date,  
And we more like a heard of Circe's swine,  
Are changed into a base form of state,  
Antiquity yet says, that you you and we,  
Like Ants of AEacus came all of a tree.   

33  
But mighty God, the more to glorify  
His powerful hand, by manifold creation  
Hath since advised himself to multiply  
The kindred of our mortal generation,  
That this great six days labour of his hand  
Might not unstored, or long unpeopled stand.   

34  
And we like wretches, carelessly o'erseen  
Neglecting all continuance of our good,  
Of our own birth have immemorius been,  
And quite forgot the Nephews of our blood,  
And of near kin are grown mere strangers rather,  
Almost forgetting we had all one father.   

35  
The Times then filled with Avarice and strife,  
Th'unequalness of states did happen thus:  
Fell out to some a large delightful life,  
To othersome the like as falls to us.  
Thereafter as in worldly scraping thrift,  
Each crafty mortal for himself could shift.   

36  
Those that in scorn of dissentious striving,  
Or b'ing too weak, could not themselves enrich,  
Submitted were by force (in servile living)  
To them that by their power had gained so much.  
Thus scambled all the world: some gained, some lost,  
And who got least served him that gained most.   

37  
Yielding themselves by a devout submission,  
To those that were ordained to high degree,  
Well seas'ning with an humble disposition  
Their little power, and small ability,  
To do all reverent service. Thus begins  
Th'estate and title of a serving-man.   

38  
And since that time the kindred's b'ing all one,  
Are now increased into two kindreds more:  
The great are Nephews to the great alone,  
And all the poor are Cousins to the poor.  
The serving-men stand in a state between,  
As brothers all, but very little kin.   

39  
Thus it appears that 'mongst the meaner sort,  
Those that come nearest to the gentle kind,  
Either in labour to get good report,  
Or else in nature, courtesy or mind,  
Digressing from the rudeness of their blood,  
Become partakers in this brotherhood.   

40  
And sure me thinks, although unequal lot  
Hath ill distributed all worldly goods,  
That all alliance single is forgot,  
And we dispersed into so many bloods,  
Yet that we were all one, and shall again,  
Appears in the good minds of serving-men.   

41  
For though the great by learning and by might  
Gain all the honour as they do the lands,  
And though the poorer sort lose all their right  
Of nobleness, for want of powerful hands:  
Yet while the band of serving-men increase,  
The gentry of the poor shall never cease.   

42  
O then be pleased to cast away disdain,  
Exile injustice, and detest all ire:  
Let fair respect in your conditions reign,  
And bounty curb all orderless desire,  
That as you profit by your servants labour,  
So he may be encouraged by your favour.   

43  
We grudge you not upon a just occasion,  
To use your rigour in discretion on us,  
When proof or trial or examination  
Shall truly burden some misdeed upon us:  
Herein we rest the patients of your laws,  
So that your medicines not exceed the cause.   

44  
Yet if sometimes we do transgress in acts.  
Either concerning you or other things,  
This is no proof that we are paltry jacks,  
As the rude windpipe of the country fing.  
All flesh will fail: and grace will help to mend,  
And often they find fault that most offend.   

45  
Thus speak I to the barbarous multitude,  
That every rotten hamlet's filled withal:  
Or to the viperous foes of servitude,  
The prescise flirts of every tradesman's stall,  
Whose busy tongues and loathing maw defiles  
Our honest sort with vomited reviles.   

46  
O see (says one) how fine yond younker goes,  
As bad for pride as Lucifer, or worse,  
I a right Seruing-creature wears gay clothes,  
But little Chink (I warrant you) in's purse.  
This is a thing I will not much deny,  
But sometimes the judicious Coxcombs lie.   

47  
If he go handsome, than you say he's proud,  
I hope there's no necessity in that;  
Besides if 'twere a matter to be vowed,  
Or answered by long proof (as sure 'tis not)  
I only could compel you to confess  
Your judgements false by many instances.   

48  
And if his vestments be fine and gay,  
Belike that argu's that he has no pence,  
But seeing him now so brave: what will you say?  
If he go braver far a twel'month hence;  
Then you will eat your vomit up again,  
And say 'tis crowns that do him thus maintain.   

49  
But what should make the gallant lasses say  
That every serving-man doth love a whore,  
But that sometimes when the good man's away  
She has some proof, which makes her say the more▪  
This was a rule with some in ancient time,  
And now imposed as a general crime.   

50  
For too much tippling we are challenged too,  
Which as I'll absolutely not confess,  
So I could wish (to please both God and you)  
We had the grace and power to use it les;  
Yet (which is no excuse) I dare to say,  
We are not all that do offend that way.   

51  
In this foul vice you all sometimes transgress,  
Clerk, lay-man, yeoman, tradesman, clown, and all:  
And many gentlemen love Drunkenness,  
And use it to their great disgrace and fall;  
And therefore 'tis absurdity to think  
That none but we do use immoderate drink.   

52  
I grant it is a vice that at this day,  
Disgraceth much the rare sufficiency  
Of many a serving-man inclined that way,  
Through great abundance of his courtesy:  
For to no other end that I can see  
Is this excess of drinking said to be.   

53  
Though some for mere love of the very pot,  
In this excess are very vicious grown;  
And whether such be serving-men, or not,  
I wish them find excuses of their own:  
For what so ere he be that's so possessed,  
I do his actions and himself detest.   

54  
But as I said, it is not we alone  
From whom proceed such store of swilling mates;  
A cunning spy would now and then find one,  
And twenty drunkards amongst other states:  
Then hit not one peculiarly i'th' teeth,  
With that that all men are infected with.   

55  
Besides, you charge us much with idleness,  
And chiefly those that have superior rooms  
In service: But to meaner offices,  
As Bailiffs, Caters, Vndercooks and Grooms,  
You do impute more labour and less sloth,  
Here errs again your judgement in the troth.   

56  
No serving-man that ever waited well  
In's Master's chamber, or in other place,  
But will be sworn with me his toils excel  
The daily labours of th'inferior race:  
But that the name, authority, and gains  
Of place or office easeth well the pains.   

57  
A Gentleman in Country rides or walks  
From place to place, as his occasions bind him,  
One of his men carries a cast of Hawks,  
The other has a clokebag tie behind him:  
The Falconer's work passeth the others double,  
But that the credit does abate the trouble.   

58  
Thus understand our labour is all great,  
e'en as our charge and offices be many:  
If through condition, leisure, or respect,  
There seem a single liberty in any,  
judge him not idle, lest your thoughts be lost,  
For some seem slothful when they labour most.   

59  
Like as a man that round about his head,  
In a strong garter, or a twisted lace,  
Windeth a plummet or a ball of lead;  
Sometimes it goes but slow, sometimes apace,  
When it goes fastest, 'tis not seen a whit,  
But than takes he most pains in winding it.   

60  
Sometimes our changed fashions trouble you,  
Things that amongst ourselves are nothing strange:  
And it may be a thing yourselves would do,  
If you were not too miserly to change,  
Or else too bank'rupt: but we seldom find  
That vesture altars any whit the mind.   

61  
And with a hundred rude comparisons,  
Injurious censures, and defaming mocks,  
You needlessly ubbray our hair: for once  
Receive this slight defendant of our locks,  
A man may catch a cold with going bare,  
And he that wears not hat, allow him hair.   

62  
For courteous speech and congeyes of delight,  
Which your gross joints were never taught to do,  
If oftentimes we use them in your sight,  
We shall be censured and be laughed at too:  
But when you come where others have to do,  
Our betters will beseem to laugh at you.   

63  
This speak I not unto the country clowns,  
For their simplicity will seldom do't:  
But to the mongrill gentles of good towns,  
That mock the motions of another's foot,  
And yet make halting bows to them they meet,  
And drop ill favoured curtsies in the street.   

64  
If I should touch particularly all,  
Wherein the moody spleen of captious Time  
Doth tax our functions: I should then enthrall  
My moved spirit in perpetual rhyme,  
A gentle vain that every careless sight  
Peruseth much: but nothing mended by't.   

65  
I will not all my days in combat spend,  
So much I honour Charity and peace:  
And what is past, I did it to defend,  
Yet am the first that does the quarrel cease,  
e'en as I was the latest that began,  
And yet I am a Sword and Buckler man.   

66  
Poor serving-man ordained to lead his days,  
Not as himself, but as another list,  
Whose hoped wealth depends upon delays,  
Whose privileges upon doubts consist,  
Whose pleasures still o'ercast with sorrows spite,  
As swarthy vapours do a twinkling night.   

67  
Whose sleeps are like a warrants force cut short,  
By virtue of a new Commissions might:  
Or like the bliss of some affected sport,  
Untimely ended by approach of night:  
And like a tertian fever is his joy,  
That has an ill fit every second day.   

68  
His liberty is in an hours while,  
Both done and undone like Penelop's web;  
His fortunes like an Aethiopian Nile,  
That has a months flow for a twel-months ebb.  
His zealous actions like AEneas piety,  
Crazed by the hate of every envious Deity.   

69  
His labours like a Sisyphus his wait,  
Continually beginning where they stay;  
His Recompense like Tantalus his bait,  
That does but kiss his mouth and vade away;  
His gains like winter's hoary hailstones felt  
Between the hands do in the handling melt.   

70  
Now to be short: All that I wish is this,  
That all you great, to whom these men repair,  
Respect your servant, as your servant is  
The instrument of every great affair,  
The necessary vicar of your good,  
The next in manners to your gentle blood.   

71  
That you with love their duties would regard,  
With gentleness allow them all their rights;  
Respect their pains with bounty and reward;  
Consider mildly of their oversights:  
For where the master's mild, the servant's merry:  
But where the master's wild, the servant's weary.   

72  
Unto the world I wish more skill in judging,  
More temperance in deriding and declaring,  
More charitable honesty in grudging,  
And more contented humour of forbearing,  
Of any thing she nicely can espy  
In serving-men with her unlearned eye.   

73  
I that have served but a little while,  
And that for want of more increase in age,  
Scarce having yet attained an elder style,  
Live in the place and manner of a Page:  
Yet in mere hope and love of what I shall,  
I have begun this combat for them all.   

74  
Excepting yet two sorts of men that serve,  
In whose behalf I neither fight nor write:  
1. Those that through baseness of condition serve  
Into all odious luxure and delight.  
2. Those that in place of serving-men do stand,  
Yet scorn the title of a serving-man.   

57  
For the good fellows and true-hearts am I,  
The rest I loath, as they our name do scorn,  
And I will stoutly stand to't till I die,  
Or till my Buckler rot, and Sword be worn:  
For good condition, manhood, wit, and Art,  
The serving-man to no estate comes short.   
FINIS.