CHRESTOLEROS. Seven books of Epigrams written by T B.  
Hunc novere modum nostri servare libelli,  
Parcere personis: dicere de vitiis.  
Imprinted at London by Richard Bradocke for I. B. and are to be sold at her shop in Paul's Churchyard at the sign of the Bible. 1598.   

To the Right Honourable Sir Charels Blunt Knight, Lord Mountioy, and Knight of the most noble order of the Garter.  
MY Lord, epigrams are a scarce work, they have ever had but few writers, and yet too many; If my book please not, yet this, I shallbe sure of rare discommendations, the greatest adventure that I know: is to write, men's judgements are of so many fashions, yet this is my comfort that my book is of the fashion. If the common manners commend him, he hath given them no cause. If any object to my calling this kind of writing: in other things I would be glad to approve my study to your good Lordship. These are the accounts of my Idleness. Yet herein I may seem to have done something worthy the price of Labour, that I have taught Epigrams to speak chastely beside I have acquainted them with more gravity of sense, and barring them of their old liberty, not only forbidden them to be personal, but turned all their bitterness rather into sharpness. But the work itself, (in regard of which I most humbly crave your honours patronage) doth in the nature and kind thereof deliver me of an Epistle, and bids it give place to an epigram,  
IF I my Pen an higher task should set,  
Great Lord, what better matter could I find,  
Then of thy worth and virtue to entreat,  
Of thy heroic spirit and noble mind:  
Now take my gnatt, and try me in a toy,  
Whether hereafter I may sing of Troy.  
Your Honour's most affectionate servant. Thomas Bastard.   

ΕΠΙΓΡΑΜΜΑΤΩΝ. Liber Primus.  

Epigr. 1. de subiecto operis sui.  
I Speak of wants, of frauds, of policies,  
Of manners, and of virtues, and of times,  
Of unthrifts, and of friends, and enemies,  
Poets, Physicians, Lawyers, and Divines,  
Of usurers, buyers, borowers, rich and poor,  
Of thieves, of murderers by sea and land,  
Of pickthanks, liars, flatterers less and more,  
Of good and bad, and all that comes to hand,  
I speak of hidden and of open things:  
Of strange events, of countries far and wide,  
Of wars, of captains, Nobles, Princes, kings,  
Asia, Europe, and all the world beside.  
This is my subject reader I confess,  
From which I think seldom I do digress.   

Epigr. 2.  
WHen I was sweetly sotted with delight,  
Each trifling cause could move one to indite  
A little praise would stir me in such wise,  
My thirst all Helicon could scarce suffice.  
My pen was like a bow which still is bend,  
My head was like a barrel wanting vent.  
Then had you touched me, you had felt the smart,  
What fury might, requiring help of art,  
And then I thought my judgements aim so clear  
That I would hit you right, or miss you near,  
But now left naked of prosperity,  
And subject unto bitter injury.  
So poor of sense, so bare of wit I am,  
Not need herself can drive an Epigram,  
Yet need is mistress of all exercise.  
And she all thriving arts did first devise.  
But should I thrive or prosper in that state,  
Where she is my commandress whom I hate?  
For of a keycold wit what would ye have?  
He which is once a wretch, is thrice a slave.   

Epigr. 3. Ad Lectorem.  
REader my book flies low, and comes not near,  
The higher world, and the celestial sphere.  
Yet not so low, but that it doth despise  
The earths round lump, and far above it flies.  
This is the middle labour of my pen,  
To draw thee forth (Reader) a map of men.   

Epigr. 4. De Microcosmo.  
MAn is a little world and bears the face,  
And picture of the University:  
All but resembleth God, all but his glass,  
All but the picture of his majesty.  
Man is the little world (so we him call,)  
The world the little God, God the great All.   

Epigr. 5. Ad lectorem de subiecto operis sui.  
THE little world the subject of my muse,  
Is an huge task and labour infinite;  
Like to a wilderness or mass confuse,  
Or to an endless gulf, or to the night,  
How many strange Meanders do I find?  
How many paths do turn my straying pen?  
How many doubtful twilights make me blind,  
Which seek to limb out this strange All of men?  
easy it were the earth to purtray out,  
Or to draw forth the heavens purest frame,  
Whose restless course, by order whirls about  
Of change and place, and still remains the same,  
But how shall men's, or manners form appear,  
Which while I writ, do change from that they were?   

Epigr. 6. Ad Momum.  
MOmus, I treat of vices by the way,  
Of vices pure, abstract, and separate,  
Of universal, as the school men say,  
Intentional, mere, and specificate;  
Which float above all sense of vulgarnesse,  
And keep the top of the predicament;  
Which like chimera haunt the wilderness,  
And are the substance of an accident.  
You cannot Momus then be touched by me,  
Unless you genus universum, be.   

Epigr. 7. Ad curiosum lectorem.  
ME thinks some curious Reader, I hear say,  
What Epigrams in english? 'tis not fit.  
My book is plain, and would have if it may,  
An english Reader but a latin wit.   

Epigr. 8. Ad Do. Mountioy.  
GReat Lord, thine honour and thine excellence,  
Among the least hath worthy residence;  
Of which I am, as mean, as low as any;  
Yet a true heart and witness with the many.  
Then learn of me what th'unknown vulgar says,  
how high the low extol thy worthy praise.  
Here thou dost sit, these hearts thy worth doth move  
These know thy virtues, deign to know their love.   

Epigr. 9 In Caium.  
CAius will do me good he swears by all,  
That can be sworn, in swearing liberal:  
He did me one good turn I wot well how,  
I would he had not, for I rue it now.  
And twice and thrice, he holp me at my need,  
He me in show, but I holp him in deed.  
Had I more need he would so secure me,  
That for his help the more my need should be.  
But Caius, have ye such good turns in store?  
O keep them for yourself, help me no more.  
For he which comes to you and wanteth pelse,  
Must say: Sir I have need, now help yourself.   

Epigr. 10. De Cadavere in littus eiecto.  
THe naked corpse cast out upon the shore,  
Seemed in my thought thus woefully to plain:  
Sea, thou didst drown, and bury me before;  
Why do thy waves then dig me out again?  
Thus we by earth and sea are invired;  
The earth casts forth her live, the sea her dead.   

Epigr. 11. de Philippo Sidneo.  
WHen nature wrought upon her mould so well,  
That nature wondered her own work to see,  
When art so laboured nature to excel,  
And both had spent their excellence in thee.  
Willing they gave the into fortune's hand  
Fearing they could not end what they began.   

Epigr. 12. De Publio.  
PVblius swears he is nor false nor wicked,  
Free from great faults, and hath no other let,  
Save this great fault he is in debt.  
This is the greatest sin he hath committed.  
This is a great and heinous sin indeed,  
Which will commit him if he take not heed.   

Epigr. 13.  
GAllus would made me heir, but suddenly,  
He was prevented by untimely death:  
Scylla did make me heir: when by and by  
His health returns and he recovereth.  
He that intends me good, dies with his pelf,  
And he that doth me good, hath it himself.   

Epigr. 14. In Matho nem optatinum.  
MAtho the wisher hath an ill intent,  
But for the fact I think him innocent,  
If he see aught he wisheth it strait way.  
Wishing the night, wishing he spends the day.  
Nor horse, nor man, nor wife, nor boy nor maid  
Can scape his wish, nor aught that can be said.  
Your house, your bed, your board, your plate, your dish,  
All he devours, 'tis all his with a wish.  
He views whole fields & sheep on them which stray  
Rivers, woods, hills, he wisheth all away.  
Yea wit, and learning and good qualities,  
He would not want, if wishing might suffice.  
And this the disarde Matho nothing games,  
By wishing oft, and yet he takes great pains.   

Epigr. 15. In Mirum medicum.  
Physician Mirus talks of salivation,  
Of Tophes and Pustules, and Febricitation;  
Who doth ingurgitate, who tussicate,  
And who an ulcer hath inveterate.  
Thus while his Inkhorn terms he doth apply,  
Evacuated is his ingeny.   

Epigr. 16.  
SOme say that some which Colleges did found,  
Were wicked men; I grant it may be so:  
But what are they which seek to pull them down?  
Are not these wicked builders, let me know?  
How do times differ? how are things discussed?  
For see their wicked, do excel our just.   

Epigr. 17. de poëta Martiali.  
Martial, in sooth none should presume to write,  
Since time hath brought thy Epigrams to light▪  
For through our writing, thine so praised before  
Have this obteinde, to be commended more:  
Yet to ourselves although we win no fame,  
We please, which get our master a good name.   

Epigr. 18.  
THe poor man plains unto a Crocodile,  
And with true tears his cheeks he doth bedew,  
Sir, I am wronged and spoiled: alas the while,  
I am undone, good sir some pity show:  
Then weeps the Crocodile, but you may see,  
his teeth prepared and hollow ravening jaw:  
Then dry the poor man's tears, away goes he,  
Must rape be pitied, is there such a law?  
He did me wrong which robbed me as you see.  
But he which stole my tears, stole more from me.   

Epigr. 19 in avaritiam.  
AVarice hath an endless eye,  
Attend, and I will tell you why;  
The mind the bodies good doth crave,  
Which it desiring cannot have:  
The like resemblance may be made,  
As if the body loved a shade.   

Epigr. 20. in Cacum.  
CAcus desired me to set him forth,  
O how I burn saith he! O how I long,  
And yet I cannot register his worth  
And why? for Cacus never did me wrong.   

Epigr. 21. De Typographo.  
THe Printer when I asked a little sum,  
Huckt with me for my book, & came not near.  
Ne could my reason or persuasion,  
Move him a whit; though all things now were dear,  
Hath my conceit no help to set it forth?  
Are all things dear, and is wit nothing worth?   

Epigr. 22. In Scillam.  
SCilla had been in France a week or two,  
When he returned home with victory;  
Boasting of ten which he to death did do.  
Nine in the fight, the tenth but cowardly.  
For him he smote untrussing of his hose,  
Alas that soldier died a filthy death.  
Yet he made up the complete sum of those,  
Of whose occision Scylla glorieth,  
And by his Rapiar hilts (O bloody deed)  
Embrau'de with gold, he swears victoriously  
And hundred at his next return to speed.  
ten him no ten, an hundred more shall die,  
But never he returned, nor ever will,  
Counting more glory now to save then kill.   

Epigr. 23. in Caluum.  
calvus hath hair neither on head or brow.  
Yet he thanks God, that wit the hath enough.  
The wit may stand although the hair do fall  
'tis true, but calvus had no wit at all?   

Epigr. 24.  
Faustus' is sick of care, the doctors say,  
His cure and remedy must be delay.  
While sick consuming Faustus keeps his bed.  
An hundred whole men are consumed and dead.  
After all this Faustus recovereth;  
I see care is a trick to cousin death.   

Epigr. 25. in fucantem faciem suam.  
HE which put on a false upon thy face,  
Hath done that ill, which was done well before,  
Thus he hath put thy picture in thy place,  
Making thee like thyself, thyself no more.  
Deprived of living comeliness and feature,  
Fie on thee art, thou comest to near to nature.   

Epigr. 26. de Adam primo homine.  
WHen Adam covered his first nakedness,  
With fig tree leaves, he did, he knew not what,  
The leaves were good indeed, but not for that,  
God ordained skins 'gainst his skin's wretchedness.  
But 'gainst diseases and our inward need,  
To piece our life which slitting still doth pass.  
What leaf do we not use, what herb, what grass,  
Their secret virtues standing us in steed?  
Thus in our garments these we cast away:  
And yet our life doth wear them every day.   

Epigr. 27. In Cophum.  
COphus on Antimonium doth plodd,  
Believe me Cophus but you are too bold,  
To search into the secret depth of God:  
After Potatoes of resolved gold  
The Paracelsians taught you this to do;  
And you will ferett Nature from her den,  
ye'll make men live whether they will or no.  
But trust me Cophus they are trustless men.  
For Cophus they have tasked you like a noddy,  
To study th'immortality of the body.   

Epigr. 28.  
THey which read Horace Virgil and the rest,  
Of ancient Poets; all new wits detest:  
And say O times; what happy wits were then,  
I say, O fools; rather what happy men.   

Epigr. 29. In Gallum.  
THe good turn Gallus which you promised,  
When I believing fool do ask of you:  
Then you object your name is blemished,  
By my reports, and more which is not true,  
You might been liberal as ye did boast,  
But you are angry now with half the cost,   

Epigr. 30.  
FLorus exceeded all men of our time,  
So brave, so pert, so lust ye, and so trim:  
But suddenly me thought he did decline,  
So wan, so blank, so silly and so thin.  
I ask the cause, he leads me through the street,  
He brings me to his house, where I may see,  
A woman fair, soft, gentle and discreet.  
Behold saith Florus what hath tamed me.  
What is this true? can such a wife do so?  
Then how must he be tamed which hath a shrew?   

Epigr. 31. Epitaphium Timonis.  
Here I lie sealed under this stone,  
deaths loathsome prisoner, life's castaway.  
Which when I lived was loved of none,  
Nor lovely to any as all men can say.  
Now all men for dying do love me, though ill,  
I would not revive to lose their good will.   

Epigr. 32.  
THey say the Spaniards make provision  
For wars, and that they will be here with speed  
With shops; gold, silver and munition.  
What do they mean? I think they know our need?   

Epigr. 33.  
IF ye ask Laetus why he keeps no Christmas,  
Being so rich, having so large revenue:  
he'll say he is in debt, or hath some purchase,  
Or hath begun it and can not continue,  
Porus hath many legacies to pay,  
Though Laetus he exceed in wealth or land.  
But Dacus will do good some other way,  
Cacus would, wear his money in his hand:  
Old Misus saith, let them spend which can get,  
Corus would now, but all things are to dear.  
Germanus saith, you do not know my let,  
And Caius will keep house an other year.  
O wretched times, but our times just abuse.  
That ever doing good should have excuse.   

Epigr. 34. Ad Thomam Freak armig. de veris adventu.  
THe welcome Sun from sea Freak is returned,  
And cheerth with his beams the naked earth,  
Which 'gainst his coming her appareleth,  
And hath his absence six long months mourned.  
Out of her fragrant side she sends to greet him  
The rashed primrose and the violet;  
While she the fields and meadows doth beset  
With flowers, & hang the trees with pearl to meet him  
Amid this hope and joy she doth forget,  
To kill the hemlock which doth grow too fast,  
And chill the adder making too much haste,  
With his black sons revived with the heat,  
Till summer come with divers colours clad,  
Much like my Epigrams with good and bad.   

Epigr. 35. In Thersiten.  
A Athough Thersites have a filthy face,  
And staring eyes, and little outward grace▪  
Yet this he hath to make amend's for all,  
Nature herself is not more natural.   

Epigr. 36.  
NIsus writes Epigrams and so do I,  
Matter he hath enough, but I have less,  
Yet but in one point all the odds doth lie,  
He may speak of lewd loves and wantonness.  
Is not this odds? am not I in a straight,  
His matter pleaseth more, than my conceit.   

Epigr. 37. In Festum.  
FEstus and this vile world have shaken hands,  
Opprobrious riches were to him such grief,  
That he hath so dispatched his wealth and lands,  
That no man now can cast them in his teeth,  
Now what is not undone? and what remains,  
To Festus of his former happiness?  
rich with all humours, only he retains  
Good natured grossness, and a bounch of flesh.  
But Philo take you care no more of that,  
For if ye do, you will undo your fat.   

Epigr. 38. In Misum.  
Old Misus is a slavish drudge I know,  
For whom? but for his master, so he says:  
Who is your master Misus can ye show?  
Is not he in your chest under your keys?  
Then you do ill so far him to prefer,  
And make your Lord, which is your prisoner.   

Epigr. 39 Ad librum suum.  
MY little book whom wilt thou please, tell me?  
All which shall read thee? no that cannot be.  
Whom then, the best? but few of these are known.  
How shalt thou know to please thou knowst not whom?  
The meaner sort commend not poetry;  
And sure the worst should please themselves for thee  
But let them pass, and set by most no store.  
Please thou one well, thou shalt not need please more.   

Epigr. 40. Ad Lectorem.  
HOw quickly doth the Reader pass away,  
My pens long task and travail of the day?  
Four lines, which hold me tug an hour or twain  
He sups up with a breath and takes no pain.  
Yet use me well Reader, which to procure  
Thy one short pleasure▪ two long pains endure:  
The one of writing when it is begun:  
Th'other of shame, if't please not when 'tis done.   
Finis. Libri Primi.   

ΕΠΙΓΡΑΜΜΑΤΩΝ. Liber Secundus.  

THou which deluding raisest up a fame,  
And having showed the man concealest his name▪  
Which canst play earnest as it pleaseth thee,  
And earnest turn to jest as need shall be,  
Whose good we praise, as being like of all.  
Whose ill we bear, as being natural,  
Thou which art made of vinegar and gall,  
Wormwood, and Aqua fortis mixed with all.  
The worlds spy, all age's observer,  
All men's fear, few men's flatterer.  
Cease, writ no more to aggravate thy sin:  
Or if thou wilt not leave, now I'll begin.   

Epigr. 2. In Porum.  
POrus when first he ventured for a prize,  
Desired safe conduct but to yonder shore:  
When he arrived and sped his merchandise,  
Sea, bring me home again, I ask no more.  
And yet a second course he undertakes.  
And steeling leave for gain which is so dear,  
A third and fourth adventure yet he makes,  
And used to danger now, forgets to fear.  
Ye winds and seas where are your blasts & waves,  
With which ye seal and open the great deep?  
Porus contemneth you as captive slaves,  
And saith you are his prisoners under keep.  
Like Xerxes he hath Neptune fast in flocks,  
And like Ulysses, AEolus in a box.   

Epigr. 3.  
Monster's of men are many now a day,  
Which still like Vultures on the dead do pray,  
And as the Phoenix doth in wondered wise,  
So they, but out of others ashes rise.   

Epigr. 4. Ad Henricum Wottonum.  
WOtton, the country and the country swain,  
How can they yield a Poet any sense?  
How can they stir him up, or heat his vain?  
How can they feed him with intelligence?  
You have that fire which can a wit inflame,  
In happy London England's fairest eye:  
Well may you Poets have of worthy name,  
Which have the food and life of poetry.  
And yet the country or the town may sway,  
Or bear a part, as clowns do in a play.   

Epigr. 5. In hospitem quendam.  
MIne host he hath but one eye which good is,  
As for condtions good, one less than this,  
I pray ye guests as many as come hither,  
In his behalf to put these both together,   

Epigr. 6. De mensae Ianuarii quae fuit an: do. 1595.  
WHen colds & frosts, & snows were wont to reign,  
As in their time of prime in janivere.  
Then calm and mild and pleasant was the year,  
like to the spring which maketh all things feign.  
The little sparrows these I saw deceive,  
Which cherped merrily and built their nest.  
Poor birds, the frost will come when you think lest,  
And you of pleasure suddenly bereave.  
And this poor birds let me your error rue;  
But let the year deceive no more than you.   

Epigr. 7. In Laetum.  
LAetus by sops, and sups, and little more  
Hath got a nose which reacheth to the skies,  
This nose hath got a mouth wide gaping so,  
This mouth hath gotten ears, these ears have eyes,  
And now me thinks 'tis little nose again,  
Being divided, for I did suppose,  
That it had neither mouth, nor ears, nor eyen,  
I was deceived, I took all for a nose,  
And if I say als nose, think you I lie?  
But if I say not; what a nose mar I?   

Epigr. 8.  
WAlking the fields a wantcatcher I spied,  
To him I went desirous of his game:  
Sir have ye taken wants? yes he replied,  
Hear are a dozen which were lately ta'en.  
Then you have left no more. No more quoth he,  
Sir I can show you more, the more the worse,  
And to his work he went, but t'wolde not be,  
For all the wants were crept into my purse.  
Farewell friend wantcatcher since 'twill not be,  
Thou canst not catch the wants, but they catch me.   

Epigr. 9  
WEstminster is a mill which gryndes all causes,  
And grind his cause for me there he that list:  
For by Demurs and Pleas, appeals, and clauses,  
The toll is oft made greater than the gryste.   

Epigr. 10.  
A Gentleman, if once decline chance,  
There's meat for peasants, there is dainty fare  
One snaps the sides, an other hath the haunch,  
One hath the umbles, every one a share.  
O vile base end of riot and excess,  
He which had living, lands and dignity;  
Is eaten up of very filthiness.  
Fallen among swine, a pray to slavery,  
But see the end; this sweet and dainty food,  
Turns into finer mould, upstartes a son:  
He is a Gentleman of your lands blood.  
He buys your Arms, who could be thus undone,  
First would I starve myself and eat my nails,  
Or these rude chufs should drayle me through their tails.   

Epigr. 11.  
HE which to London did convey the pig,  
Which was so wondrous long, so monstrous big  
Tell him from me he was a very mome.  
For I know greater pigs he left at home.   

Epigr. 12. In Zoilum.  
ZOile now stinks, cold, wan, and withered,  
How shall one know when Zoilus is dead.   

Epigr. 13. In Cacum.  
CAcus, if any chance on him to call,  
Draws forth the loaf & cheese, but if they eat  
A golden sentence he draws forth withal,  
Friendship consisteth not in drink and meat.  
This is a goolden sentence I dare swear.  
This sentence saves him many pound's a year.   

Epigr. 14. Epitaphium barbae cuius erat Psillus.  
HEre lies a bounch of hair deep fallowed,  
Of fair long hair, trilling a down the breast,  
With goodly flakes and peakes; now all is dead.  
The shaking, and the countenance, and the crest.  
Now death of mooches hath dissolved that twin,  
And seized on that goodly set of hair.  
And marred the order of that famous chynn,  
With his posterity alone so fair,  
Which to posterity I will commend.  
Hear lies a beard, and Psillus at the end.   

Epigr. 15.  
HEywood goes down saith davis, sickerly,  
And down he goes, I can it not deny.  
But were I happy, did not fortune frown.  
Were I in heart, I would sing Davy down.   

Epigr. 16. Ad Lectorem.  
REader, there is no biting in my verse;  
No gall, no wormwood, no cause of offence.  
And yet there is a biting I confess  
And sharpness tempered to a wholesome sense.  
Such are my Epigrams well understood,  
As salt which bites the wound, but doth it good.   

Epigr. 17. Ad Aulicos.  
YE Courtiers, so may you in courtly sort  
With manners old, old Courtiers long remain,  
So that some upstart courtiers ye refrain:  
unworthy of a peerless prince's port.  
As courtier leather, courtier pin, and soap,  
And courtier vinegeer, and starch and card,  
And courtier cups, such as were never heard,  
And such as shall not court it long we hope.  
The true gentility by their own Arms,  
Advance themselves, the false by others harms.   

Epigr. 18. In invidum.  
I Chanced on a monster of a man,  
With health heart sick, starved with store of food,  
With riches poor; with beauty pale and wan.  
Wretched with happiness, evil with good,  
One eye did envy at the other eye,  
Because the other envied more than he.  
His hands did fight for the first injury,  
So envy enui'de, envied to be.  
And as he went his hinder foot was sore  
And envied at the foot that went before.   

Epigr. 19 In Foenatores.  
Never so many usurers were known,  
As we have now; yet have we not enough,  
So many borrowing need hath overthrown,  
Which would be more in debt, but know not how,  
The usurers are ta'en up of Gentlemen,  
Of Merchants, of the Nobles of the land.  
The poor can now have no access to them,  
Under undoing thrice, under good band.  
Methinks I hear the wretches how they call,  
Let's have more usurers, or none at all.   

Epigr. 20.  
HE that will in the midst of drunkenness,  
Learn how he may miraculously be fresh:  
And in one instant hunger after cates,  
Which his crammed surfeiting with loathing hates.  
And ipso facto cure the rheum distilling,  
And that which here to name I am not willing,  
Unless Tobacco vanish his disease.  
He must stay longer or he can have ease.   

Epigr. 21. In Momum.  
MOmus to be a Poet Lawreate,  
Hath strained his wits, through an iron grate.  
For he hath rhymes and rhymes, and double strains:  
And golden verses, and all kinds of veins,  
Now to the press he presseth hastily,  
To sell his friends stinking eternity.  
For who would be eternal in such fashion,  
To be a witness to his condemnation.   

Epigr. 22.  
I Met a courtier riding on the plain,  
Well mounted on a brave and gallant steed;  
I sat a jade, and spurred to my pain,  
My lazy beast whose tired sides did bleed,  
He saw my case; and then of courtesy,  
Did rain his horse, and drew the bridle in  
Because I did desire his company:  
But he curveting way of me doth win.  
What should I do which was besteaded so?  
His horse stood still faster than mine could go,   

Epigr. 23. In Misum.  
MIsus, thy wealth will quickly breathe away,  
Thine honesty is shorter than thy breath,  
Thy flesh will fall, how can it longer stay,  
Which is so ripe and mellow after death?  
Yet while thou liv'st men make of thee a jest.  
Hear lies old Misus soul, locked in his chest.   

Epigr. 27. In Lalum.  
LAlus is drunk, and able scarce to speak,  
He swears he is not drunk; when by an by  
The nimble liquor foils him on his neck,  
How durst ye Lalus give your Ale the lie,  
Next time if you will be believed, confess,  
That when you have not drunk, you are not fresh.   

Epigr. 25. In habentem longam barbam.  
THy beard is long: better it would thee fit,  
To have a shorter beard, and longer wit.   

Epigr. .26  
I Want an hundred pounds: my books I seek.  
Their answer is; that learning hath a fall:  
I seek my brains: conceits be so good cheap,  
One dram of silver may buy head and all.  
Then to the Muses I amazed fly.  
They tell me Homer's case and others more.  
Then to my books again as fast I hie.  
And back again as wretched as before.  
Betraying studies standing few in steed;  
Why do ye this forsake me in my need?   

Epigr. 27. In Laetum.  
LAetus would beg of me I know not what,  
But first he covenants, deny not me.  
Nay Laetus beg me then if I grant that.  
If I will bind myself to set you free.  
'Twere well if after ask you might have it  
But you will have a thing before ye crave it.   

Epigr. 28.  
SO hard it was for Poets to reject,  
The once conceived issue of their brain,  
As for a mother her babe to neglect,  
For whom in travailing she took such pain.  
Then if we love out faults for our own sake.  
Love doth but love the child, which love did make.   

Epigr. 29. in Papam.  
THe Pope as king of kings hath power from high,  
To plant, and to root out successively:  
Why fell the king of France in woeful case?  
Because the Pope did plant him of his grace.  
But our Elisa lives, and keeps her crown,  
Godamercy Pope, for he would pull her down.   

Epigr. 30. Adreginam Elizabetham.  
Live long Elisa, that the wolf of Spain,  
In his own thirst of blood consumed may be.  
That foreign princes may envy thy reign.  
That we may live and flourish under thee,  
And though the bended force of mighty kings,  
With knots of policy confederate.  
Aim at thy royal Sceptre, purposing  
Confusion to thy country and thy state.  
Heaven fights for thee, & thou shalt have thy will  
Of all thy foes, for thy Sun standeth still.   

Epigr. 31. Ad Lectorem.  
REader me thinks that now I do digress,  
Presuming thus to talk of Majesty.  
Which in things easy could my mind express,  
And dandle little meanings prettily,  
For now I lose my proper veins delight,  
Which things unproper to my vain rehearse,  
Thus I attempting those things to recite,  
Which come not in my compass of my verse,  
In such a plot, cannot make matter say.  
Where so much matter must be cast away.   

Epigr. 32. Ad Comitem Essexiae.  
ESsex, the ends which men so sane would find,  
Riches, for which most are industrious.  
Honour, for which most men are virtuous,  
Are but beginnings to thy noble mind:  
Which thou as means dost frankly spend upon,  
Thy country's good, by thy true honour won.   

Epigr. 33.  
Old hand in hands saluting now is past,  
And friends embracing arms in arms do cast.  
Why? cause the body is the better part?  
Or we would feel our friends nearer the heart?  
Or that our friends as flitting to and fro  
Our arms may hold, our hands would let them go?  
Yet were the ancient friendship now of force,  
Our armful, for their handful I would scorse.   

Epigr. 34.  
THe first defence that goolde hath, is the ground,  
Where it lies hidden till we dig it forth.  
Then in her thickness it lies, which we sound,  
For goold's pale spirit of admirable worth.  
And then we let it down into our heart,  
And drench our soul so thirsting after gain,  
Till like a God it reign in every part.  
No All cumist can draw it thence again.  
If goolde from goold can be abstracted thus,  
Why should not goold as well be drawn from us?   

Epigr. 35. In Fortunum.  
I Pray thee fortune, (fortune if thou be.)  
Come here aside, for I must brawl with thee.  
Is't you that sit as Queen in throne so high,  
In spite of virtue, wit and honesty?  
Have you a Sceptre only to this end,  
To make him rue which never did offend?  
Is't your fair face whose favour fools do find,  
And whose vain smile makes wise men change their mind?  
Thy hands be full, yet eye thou hast not one,  
Th'artarte full of moss, and yet a rolling stone.  
Thou fanciest none; yet puttest the worst in trust,  
Thou ta'kt no bribes, and yet dost judge injust.  
Thou makest Lords, and yet dost cast them down,  
Thou hatest kings, and yet dost keep their crown,  
Thou never standest: and yet dost never fall;  
And carest for none, and yet hast rule of all,  
But fortune, though in princely throne thou sit  
I envy not, it is not for thy wit.   

Epigr. 36. Ad Sextum.  
SExtus in words gives me goold wealth and lands  
Sextus hath Crassus' tongue, but Irus hands.   

Epigr. 37. Ad Guilielmum Sutton.  
I Vowed to make an Epigram a day,  
But setting pen to paper twolde not say.  
I wanted matter and invention.  
My pen was tired, and my wit was done.  
Sutton this loss thou well mayst recompense,  
Taking out words and putting in some sense:  
Perhaps thou wilt not, for thou thinkest it best,  
To leave some bad which may commend the rest.   

Epigr. 38. In Caium.  
SO thy rare virtues fixed in mine eyes,  
Thy gentle nature Caius, and thy mind.  
So fraught with learning and good qualities:  
That thou art rich this only fault I find.  
When thou wast poor thy virtues me relieved.  
Since thou art rich, of both I am deprived.   

Epigr. 39  
THe princes good is good to all: but yet  
The good of all to her good doth not tend.  
She one defends us all what ever threat,  
And yet we all can not her one defend.  
For the kings evil none but kings can cure.  
Yet the kings evil more than kings procure.   

Eigr. 40. De libro suo.  
ONe said my book was like unto a coat,  
Of diverse colours black and red and white,  
I bent to cross him said he spoke by rote.  
For they in making rather are unlike.  
A coat, one garment made of many fleeces.  
My book, one meaning cut in many pieces.   
Finis Libri Secundi.   

ΕΠΙΓΡΑΜΜΑΤΩΝ. Liber Tertius.  

MY Book is not for learned men nor wise,  
Nor merry nor conceited, nor the plain:  
Nor angry, foolish, critical or nice.  
Nor old nor young, nor sober, nor the vain.  
Nor for the proud, nor for the covetous,  
Nor for the Gentle man, nor the Clown:  
Nor for the glutton, nor adulterous,  
Nor for the valiant worthy of renown.  
Nor for the thrifty, nor the prodigal,  
But if thou needs will know for whom? for all.   

Epigr. 2. In Corum.  
Corus' desires with them to have a place,  
Whom my sleight muse of right doth celebrate.  
Avaunt ye peasant, for you are too base.  
What you among the worthies of our state?  
How should I fit you with a trough or sink,  
Or plant a kennel for your worthiness,  
But that the rest for neighbourhood must stink,  
And be confiners to your filthiness?  
I took mine oath Thalia at thy shrine,  
ne'er to imbrue my verses with a swine.   

Epigr. 3. Ad johannem davis.  
IF wit may make a Poet, as I guess,  
Heywood with ancient Poets may I compare.  
But thou in word and deed hast made him less,  
In his own wit: having yet learning spare.  
The goat doth hunt the grass: the wolf the goat.  
The lion hunts the wolf, by proof we see.  
Heywood sang others down, but thy sweet note  
davis, hath sang him down, and I would thee.  
Then be not moved, nor count it such a sin,  
To will in thee what thou hast done in him.   

Epigr. 4.  
KIng Philip would by force victoriously,  
Invade our land: which having proud in vain,  
He wars with treason most ingloriously.  
Yet is repelde, and driven home again.  
In great attempts few spare for wickedness,  
Yet never any man did more for less.   

Epigr. 5. Ad comitem Essexiae iam navigaturum.  
THese ships with child with such an enterprise,  
As more than quick they travail with to Spain;  
These Captains of courageous companies,  
The towers and forts, Elysa, if thy reign,  
These Armies marching and these ensigns spread,  
These Arms advanced upon our enemies:  
All as the body, wait on thee their head,  
Great Lord, dipped in thine heart, fixed in thine eyes,  
Go on with living courage, tempering sweet,  
The inspired body of her royal fleet,   

Epigr. 6. Ad eundem.  
THe news of Spanish wars, how wondrously,  
It struck our hearts, what terror it did breed.  
Saint Mary port and Cales can testify,  
And thousand's Spaniards witnessing the deed,  
When thou Deurox, with fear waste so dismayed,  
That thou to Seville well nigh fled'st for aid.   

Epigr. 7.  
WHen Caesar in those wars which did not cease,  
Till they had consummated not his peace:  
By higher cause was drawn into the flood,  
Where Alexander's royal city stood:  
And now the world did stint her conquering,  
Against the coming of a greater king,  
Egypt, which hording all iniquities,  
Under yet unrevealed mysteries,  
Did burn the wisdom of all ages old  
Which forty thousand volumes had enrolled:  
Plainly foretold what shortly should ensue.  
Wipe out the old world and begin the new.   

Epigr. 8. In Philonem.  
PHylo is richly rayed, and beareth high  
His great revenues dated in his coat,  
Coin, jewels, plate and land: loa here they lie.  
This is their last which lately so did float.  
First in his belly shipped they suffered wrack.  
Now they are landed all upon his back.   

Epigr. 9  
BEsides contentions to us natural,  
And to our age: besides all wickedness  
So rife so ripe, so reaching over all,  
And murdering malice raging in excess.  
We have invented engines to shed blood,  
Such as no age did ever know before.  
Like as God thundereth from the airy cloud:  
Lightning forth death out of death's house of store.  
What Art had ever more perfection.  
Then murder hath, since gonns did work our evil?  
Fie on all mischievous invention.  
Fie on all wicked heads, fie on the devil,  
Which us such murdering instruments assigns.  
It is to much to have such murdering minds.   

Epigr. 10.  
WHen bankrupt Tamus, his chamnel scarce did were  
He was great store of water in our debt,  
Which all he paid us, when an other year  
He pleaded at the bar at Westminstere.   

Epigr. Ad Lectorem.  
REader if Heywood lived now again  
Whom time of life hath not of praise bereaved,  
If he would write, I could express his vain,  
Thus he would write, or else I am deceived.   

Epigr. 12. Of a pudding.  
THe end is all, & in the end the praise of all depends  
A podding merits double praise, a podding hath two ends.   

Epigr. 13. A crossing of that Epigram  
A podding hath two ends? ye lie my brother:  
For he gins at one, and ends at tother.   

Epigr. 14. Of the Lions?  
TEll me good Tom, hast thou the Lions seen?  
jacke I have felt them: why where hast thou been?  
Where have I not been, ranging here and there  
And trust me jacke Lions are every where,  
Why then thou saw'st them: fool that is no soar,  
He that tells thee I felt them, tells thee more.   

Epigr. 15. Of jenkin.  
IEnkin is a rude clown; go tell him so.  
What need I tell what he himself doth know?  
Perhaps he knows not, than he is a sot,  
For tell me, what knows he which knows not that?   

Epigr. 16. Of an Ape.  
HE that would know an Ape, may be to seek,  
An Ape is that, which an Ape is not like.   

Epigr. 17. Of Banks horse.  
banks hath an horse of wondrous quality,  
For he can fight, and piss, and dance, and lie.  
And find your purse, and tell what coin ye have.  
But Banks, who taught your horse to smell a knave?   

Epigr. 18. Of Pymer which fell mad for the love of his dog Talbot,  
Pymer loved Talbot, Talbot loved him,  
Who loved best? both loved constantly.  
Pymer with Talbot died, Talbot with him.  
Who died best? both died lovingly.  
Yet were I judge for Talbot I should sit,  
Whose match in love Pymer was, not in wit.   

Epigr. 18. Ad Lectorem.  
SOme will perhaps condemn my foolish vain,  
For that of Dogs, Lions, and Apes I speak.  
But if they knew the cause they would refrain.  
I do it only for the Printers sake.  
The simple must have something for their humour,  
And having something they my book will buy.  
Then gaineth he by whom I am no loser.  
So is he satisfied, and they and I.  
Some will give six pence for a witty touch,  
And some to see an Ape will give as much.   

Epigr. 19 In Severum.  
Severus reads my book, and having read,  
Forthwith pronounceth me an idle head.  
And idle he had binn as well as we,  
But that he matter found to carp at me:  
Then all goes not amiss as I mistook;  
I see there is some matter in my book.   

Epigr. 20. In eundem.  
Severus calls me idle, I confess:  
But who can work upon my idleness.   

Epigr. 21.  
WHen Sextus Quintus traitorously had slain,  
He threw his spoiled corpse into the deep.  
But the just sea did throw him out again,  
And to a murder would not counsel keep.  
The fact appears, the author of the sin,  
Is yet unknown, but see the slain doth bleed.  
And his cold blood runs out, and points at him,  
And cries, this is the author of the deed.  
Thus even the dead against such villainy  
Of Abel's blood for vengeance learn to cry.   

Epigr. 21. Ad reginam Elizebetham.  
MOther of England, and sweet nurse of all,  
Thy country's good which all depends on thee,  
Look not that country's father I thee call,  
A name of great and kingly dignity,  
Thou dost not only match old kings, but rather,  
In thy sweet love to us, excel a father.   

Epigr. 22. Ad eandem.  
I Know where is a thief and long hath been,  
Which spoileth every place where he resorts.  
He steals away both subjects from the Queen.  
And men from his own country of all sorts.  
Houses by three, and seven, and ten he raseth,  
To make the common glebe, his private land.  
Our country Cities cruel he defaceth,  
The grass grows green where little Troy did stand,  
The forlorn father hanging down his head,  
His our cast company drawn up and down.  
The pining labourer doth beg his bread.  
The plowswayne seek's his dinner from the town,  
O Prince, the wrong is thine, for understand:  
Many such robberies will undo thy land.   

Epigr. 23. Ad Do, Mountioy.  
MOuntioy what is my muse, or my dull pen,  
Or my forlorn conceit, worthy of thee  
The honoredst of honourable men,  
Nobling with virtues thy Nobility?  
Yet sith thy fame through every ear doth sly,  
And all men praise thy worth: why should not I?   

Epigr. 24. In Cacum.  
When Cacus wrong'de me, this was his excuse,  
I meant no harm: I thought thee no abuse.  
Well had he meant it worse I could not speed.  
I could not felt his thought more than his deed.  
I would have thanked him had the case so stood,  
That he had meant me harm and done me good.   

Epigr. 25. In eundem,  
YOu did me harm, but meant not so to do,  
Since you have done it Cacus, mean it to.   

Epigr. 26. Ad Georgium Morton Armig.  
MOrton whose face bewrays antiquity,  
When men were goodly of proportion.  
But in whose heart is true gentility,  
In thee perfected, in thy race begun.  
Take these poor lines, as due to thy desert,  
From him which owes to thee more than his heart,   

Epigr. 27. Ad Richardum Eeds.  
EEds, only thou an Epigram dost season,  
With a sweet taste and relish of inditing.  
With sharpes of sense, and delicates of reason,  
With salt of wit and wonderful delighting.  
Form my judgement him thou hast expressed,  
In whose sweet mouth honey did build her nest.   

Epigr. 28. Ad Guilielmum Suttonum.  
WHen breath and life through my cold misery,  
Did even fail, and hope had made an end.  
Thou Sutton didst put breath and life in me,  
With the sweet comforts of a faithful friend.  
O that I likewise might keep thee from death  
With my pens life, and with my papers breath.   

Epigr. 9  
Never so many masters any knew,  
And so few gentlemen in such a crew.  
Never so many houses, so small spending.  
Never such store of coin: so little lending.  
Never so many cousins: so few kind.  
Goodmorrowes plenty, good wills heard to find.  
Never so many clerks, near learning less.  
Many religious, but least godliness.  
justice is banished, law breeds such strife,  
And truth: and why? for swearing is so rife.  
Thus in her strength of causes virtue dieth,  
But vice without a cause still multiplieth.   

Epigr. 30. Ad Cacum.  
THere was presented you an odd Libel  
For which you know Cacus, you paid me well,  
But well I know, of me sir you had none,  
Remember then Cacus, I own you one.   

Epigr. 31. In Libellum.  
LIbel all raw with indigested spite,  
Whose wit doth drop invenymde injury.  
Whose pen leaks blots of spiteful infamy,  
Which the sink of thy paper doth receipt.  
Why dost thou boast? for if thou hadst done well.  
In naughty things 'twere easy to excel.   

Epigr. 32. Ad Mathonem.  
MAtho, if common liking might suffice,  
And temprate judgement, when you do repeat,  
Then would I praise your verses once or twice.  
But I must rage's and cry, and swear and sweat,  
I must condemn the writers of all ages,  
And wrong diviner wits which were before:  
When having spent and consumed all my praises  
Yet you read on, and yet you look for more.  
Henceforth look for no praise at your reciting.  
Words are but wind, i'll set it down in writing.   

Epigr. 33.  
A Wealch and Englishman meet on the way,  
Both poor, both proud, full of small courtesy.  
They fall in talk till each of them display,  
Both their great minds, and small ability.  
The wealch man from one word of discontent,  
Of an huge quarrel took occasion:  
Telling the englishmen he should repent,  
For he should fight with all his nation.  
The english man would put up no disgrace,  
But said I will, do you appoint the place.   

Epigr. 34. in Thymum.  
THymus is so inspired so mortified,  
So pure a ghost, so heavenly spiritual:  
That all things else to God he hath denied.  
Feet, knees, hands, breast, face, eyes, lips, tongue & all.  
As false religion he doth revile it,  
Which loves the knees, or any outward part.  
With his stinking lounges will not defile it.  
Nor with his purest blood, nor with his heart,  
In spirit he doth ride, walks, eats, and drinks  
In spirit he hates, he rails, I worse than this,  
He cares not what the vulgar sort do think,  
Alas they know not of what spirit he is,  
Neither know I, yet think I of an evil,  
And fear his spirit will turn into a devil.   

Epigr. 35.  
DAreus nose when time of death drew near,  
So hideously did swell, none could suppose  
What was the cause, two beds prepared were,  
One for Daneus, tother for his nose.  
One said it bred a wolf: again an other.  
Did judge the tympany the cause of rising:  
Some said it was tormented with the mother.  
Some with the scurvies for not exercising.  
Being ripped up, the cause of death was spied.  
Ten thousand jests were found, whereof it died.   

Epigr. 36.  
THe peasant Corus of his wealth doth boast,  
Yet he scarce worth twice twenty pounds at most,  
I chanc'de to word once with this lousy swain▪  
He called me base, and beggar in disdain.  
To try the truth hereof I rate myself.  
And cast the little count of all my wealth.  
See how much Hebrew, Greek, and Poetry,  
Latin, Rhetoric and philosophy.  
Reading and sense in sciences profound,  
All valued, are not worth forty pounds.   

Epigr. 37.  
MAtho in wealth and ease, at liberty,  
Expresseth neither wit nor honesty.  
But is secure and idle, dull and vain,  
His pleasure's man, and his sweet fortune's swain,  
But when he is awaked with misery.  
With executions, and poverty.  
When he is quite undone and nothing worth.  
Then like a viper his wit crawleth forth.   

Epigr. 38. In Severum.  
Severus hates my pens licentious grace.  
He liked not of my gadding poetry.  
He terms my writing like the wild-goose race,  
In fine he saith that all is vanity.  
Away saith he, I like not this redundance,  
Away with him, a Poet is abundance.   

Epigr. 39 Ad Essexiacomitem.  
IF I could turn my verse into desert,  
Or tune my sense to thy nobility.  
Great Essex, then shouldst thou enjoy my art,  
And challenge me thy Poet worthily.  
But since I cannot equal thee with art  
Take thy reward out of thine own desert.   
Finis Libri Tertij.   

ΕΠΙΓΡΑΜΜΑΤΩΝ. Liber Quartus.  

Epigr. 1. Ad Librum suum.  
Lie not my book for that were wickedness,  
Be not too idle, idle though thou be.  
Eschew scurrility and wantonness.  
Temper with little mirth, more gravity.  
Rail not at any least thy friends forsake thee▪  
In earnest cause of writing show thy wit.  
Touch none at all that no man may mistake thee.  
But speak the best, that all may like of it,  
If any ask thee what I do profess,  
Say that, of which thou art the idleness.   

Epigr. 2. Ad Do. Mountioy.  
MOuntioy, among the labours of my pen,  
Which my glad muse aspireth to present,  
To thee as worthiest of all other men,  
Of thee as patron and high precedent,  
If any had, these had been worthy best.  
But since all are, these are unworthy least.   

Epigr. 3. Ad Librum suum.  
MY book, some hands in Oxford will thee take,  
And bear thee home, and lovingly respect thee  
And entertain thee for thy master's sake:  
And for thy master's sake some will reject thee.  
But to my faithful friends commend I thee.  
And to mine enemies, commend thou me.   

Epigr. 4. Ad utranque Acadamiam.  
YE famous sister Universities,  
Oxford and Cambridge, whence proceeds your hate?  
Brother's rare concord do ye imitate,  
Each greeting each with mutual injuries?  
Brother's fall out and quarrel I confess.  
But sister's love; for it becomes you less.   

Epigr. 5. Ad easdem.  
WHy strive ye sisters for antiquity?  
Can not your present honour you suffice?  
Why strive ye sisters for that vanity.  
Which if ye saw as 'twas, you would despise?  
You must make love: love is your surest hold,  
Others must honour you and make you old.   

Epigr. 6. De sua Clepsydra.  
SEtting mine hour glass for a witness by  
To measure study as the time did fly:  
A lingering muse posseste my thinking brain:  
My mind was reaching, but in such a vain,  
As if my thoughts by thinking brought a sleep,  
Winglesse & footelesse, now like snails did creep,  
I eyed my glass, but he so fast did run.  
That ere I had begun, the hour was done.  
The creeping sands with speedy pace were flit,  
Before one reason crept out of my wit.  
When I stood still I saw how time did fly.  
When my wits ran, time ran, more fast than I,  
Stay here, i'll change the course, let study pass  
And let time study while I am the glass.  
What touch ye sands? are little mites so fleet?  
Can bodies run so swift which have no feet?  
And can ye tumble time so fast away?  
Then farewell hours, I'll study by the day.   

Epigr. 7.  
Our fathers did but use the world before.  
And having used did leave the same to us.  
We spill what ever resteth of their store.  
What can our heirs inherit but our curse?  
For we have sucked the sweet and sap away,  
And sowed consumption in the fruitful ground:  
The woods and forests clad in rich array,  
With nakedness and baldness we confound.  
We have defaced the lasting monymentes  
And caused all honour to have end with us:  
The holy temples feel our ravishments.  
What can our heirs inherit but our curse?  
The world must end, for men are so accursed,  
Unless God end it sooner: they will furst,   

Epigr. 8. Ad johannem Whitegift, Arch, Cant.  
WHitegift, whom gracious honour entertains.  
Welcome as to the year the gladsome May,  
Welcome as is the morning to the day,  
Welcome as sleep unto the weary swains:  
The fair Elisa white with heavenly praises:  
The Gods white Church adorned doth set forth,  
The all white meaning and excelling worth:  
The virtue white above all honour raises.  
Yet let my pen present this little story.  
Unto the endless volume of thy glory.   

Epigr. 9 In adorantes reliquias.  
IS it a worthy thing to dig up bones?  
To kiss, t'adore the relics of dead men?  
Alas how foolish were those silly ones,  
Which in times past did nought but bury them?  
But they perhaps for stink did then refrain:  
But you do worse to make them stink again.  
Yet in the very stinking this is odd.  
They stank to men then, now they stink to God.   

Epigr. 10. Comparatio Cranmert & Mutij.  
LIke Mutius Cranmer thou didst burn thine hand  
O but I injure thee thus to compare.  
Nothing was like, the fire, the cause, the man.  
Yet likest you of all that stored are.  
He had a Theatre of men to see  
What thou didst represent to Angels eyes▪  
He burned his hand to cinders carelessly,  
Which thou by burning didst sacrifice.  
Thou didst sow thine hand into the flame,  
Which he consumed and could not reap again.  
Thy love did quench the burning of the same,  
Acting with pleasure what he did with pain.  
In him 'twas wonder that he did presume,  
To touch the flame with flesh contaminated.  
In thee 'twas wonder that the fire did burn.  
An holy hand to glory consecrated.   

Eigr. 11.  
PVblius hath two brothers fowl and clean.  
The fowl is honest, and the clean a fool:  
He in the midst maketh up the mean,  
Sitting in virtues place: so saith our school:  
Of his extremes neither allow he can  
The clean fool, nor the filthy honest man.   

Epigr. 12. De Laeto & Bito.  
LAetus doth pity Bitus for his wants,  
And low desires, & mean hopes, & poor fare:  
For small house and little household plants.  
For his plainness, and for his honest care,  
Bitus doth pity Laetus happiness,  
And his great house, sweet friend's & danger's store,  
His heedless good and steep presumptuousness,  
His merry heart and thoughts aspiring more.  
Thus each do see into the others woe.  
But Bitus is more merciful of the two.   

Epigr. 13.  
INdie new found the Christian faith doth hold,  
Rejoicing in our heavenly merchandise.  
Which we have changed for precious stones & gold  
And pearl and feathers, and for Popingyes.  
Now are they loving, meek and virtuous,  
Contented, sweetly with poor godliness.  
Now are we salvage, fierce and barbarous,  
Rich with the fuel of all wickedness.  
So did Elishaes' servant Gehazye,  
With Naamans' goold, buy Naamans' leprosy.   

Epigr. 14.  
RVfus hath spent his gums and underlippe,  
Cancelde his face, undone his faithful eyes,  
And seared his throat with many a scalding sipp,  
Of Ala fortis where his treasure lies.  
Only his nose remains to comfort him,  
Which hath encroacht o'er all the parts beside,  
Erecting Trophies o'er his conquered chin.  
Fair crested, tall, voluminous and wide.  
Under whose covering his face lieth low.  
Tanquam sub Aiacis clypeo.   

Eigr. 15. De lue Mahometica.  
WHen Pan forsook the mountains & the rocks,  
where he did lead his herds, & his great flocks  
And that sweet pipe to which the hills did dance▪  
Was split a sunder, a most woeful chance.  
And the worlds heart was smitten in her breast,  
And the bright Sun, declined in the East.  
And the blind Locusts, craved no other light,  
Then for their Sun the black pits smoking night.  
Sodom forsook her sea, where she lay dead.  
And with Gomorrhe all Asia overspread.   

Epigr. 16. Ad Reginam. Elizabetham.  
WHen in thy flowering age thou didst begin,  
Thy happy reign, Eliza, blessed Queen.  
Then as a flower thy country 'gan to spring,  
All things as after winter waxed green:  
No riper time shakes of thy flowering years,  
Thy greenness stays, our bud continueth.  
No age in thee or winter's face appears.  
And as thou, so thy country flourisheth.  
As if that greenness and felicity,  
Thy land did give, which it receives from thee.   

Epigr. .17  
THe son which shines amid the heaven so bright  
And guides our eyes to heaven by his light:  
Will not be gazed on of a fleshly eye:  
But blinds t●at sight which dares to see so high:  
Even he doth tell us that heaven doth require,  
Far better eyes of them which would see higher.   

Epigr. 18. Ad Comitem Essexiae, de expeditione in Hispaniam.  
BEing in arms, how didst thou furiously,  
With fire and sword thy trembled hand display  
Which didst become after the victory.  
Sweet to the captives, gentle to the prey?  
Teach Spain, Deurox, as thou hast well begunn  
Not to dare fight, but dare to b'ouercome.   

Epigr. 19 Ad eundem  
ESsex bring to Elisa youth and life.  
Sing her a sleep with joyful victories.  
Leave to her enemy's despair and strife.  
Wake them with woeful wars, and fearful cries.  
Of conquering us how foully do they miss.  
Which feel our force, and envy at our bliss.   

Epigr. 20.  
Sheep have eat up our meadows & our downs,  
Our corn, our wood, whole villages & towns.  
Yea, they have eat up many wealthy men.  
Besides widows and Orphan children.  
Besides our statutes and our iron laws,  
Which they have swallowed down into their maws.  
Till now I thought the proverb did but jest,  
Which said a black sheep was a biting beast.   

Epigr. 21.  
MOuntioy, thy virtue and thy secret worth,  
My low inditing seeketh not to raise.  
Here's no invention to set thee forth.  
Here is no painted style, no borrowed phrase.  
Yet breathing tables sweetly thee resemble,  
And thy fair image dwells in living hearts:  
But least succeeding ages should dissemble,  
And time obscure the glory of thy parts.  
While thou dost live give life unto my pen,  
Which when thou diest will pay it the again.   

Epigr. 22. Ad Lectorem.  
REader, I grant I do not keep the laws,  
Of rhyming in my verse: but I have cause:  
I turn the pleasure of the end sometimes,  
Lest he that likes them not should call them rhymes.   

Epigr. 23. De tribus pueris in furnace ignea.  
WHat were the children Nabucadnessar,  
Which walking in the furnace thou didst see?  
Was each an Angel, or an heavenly star,  
Above the act of nature's sovereignty?  
Were they three wedges of the finest goold,  
Which the heavens treasurer doth so desire?  
Or had they power to turn the heat to cold?  
Were they three Salamanders in the fire?  
The flame was martyred with her heat spent,  
And the fire suffered for the innocent.   

Epigr. 24. Epitaphum Cannij.  
OF fighting Cannius here lie the bones,  
Which never received the lie but ones.  
He thought to avenge him; he drew forth his sword▪  
He ventured his life upon a bare word.  
Now I say he lieth, in him the cause is,  
Had he ta'en that lie, he had not ta'en this.   

Epigr. 25  
Our Water Drake long seas, strange jeopardies,  
far countries, great attempts have overta'en.  
He paid his life there, whence his glory came,  
Adorn him India for in thee he lies,  
We have a worthier worthy of our state.  
And would not leave our Water for our Drake.   

Epigr. 26.  
INdie which so long feared, now hath our Drake,  
Her fear lies buried in her golden sands.  
Which we will oft revisit for his sake,  
Till we have ransomed him out of her hands.  
You which will venture for a goolden prey,  
Go on brave lads, by Water is your way.   

Epigr. 27. In cultum reliquiarum.  
TO seek thee in thy Tomb sweet jesus when,  
The women with their ointment hastened:  
Two Angels did appear, forbidding them  
To seek thee living there among the dead.  
Did Rome by diving in the tombs of saints,  
But seek the living whence they now are fled,  
Yet might they hear the Angels making plaint.  
Seek not the living Rome among the dead.  
But to tie holy worship to dead bones.  
To bow religion to the wicked trust  
Of crosses, relics, ashes, flickes and stones.  
To throw down living men to honour dust:  
Is not to seek, but like Mezentius rather,  
To join the living and the dead together.   

Epigr. 28. Epitap. Richardi Pinuer.  
HEre lies Dick Pinner. O ungentle death,  
Why didst thou rob Dick Pinner of his breath  
For living he by scraping of a pin:  
Made better dust than thou hast made of him.   

Epigr. 29. Ad Lectorem.  
REader but half my labour is expired,  
And Poet, matter, wit and all are tired.  
Thrice fifty labours have worn out my vain,  
An hundred meanings and an half remain,  
Hear would I rest were my first work to do.  
Were the last at an end, here would I to.   

Epigr. 30.  
MElus was taught to speak, to read, to write.  
Yet clerkly sooth he can do none of these.  
He learned Logic and Arithmetic.  
Yet neither brawls nor ciphers worth a pease.  
The music school did teach him her sweet art.  
He dealt with Rhetoric and Astrology.  
Yet neither can he chant it for his part,  
Ne can he tell a tale, or prophesy,  
And yet he ●ides as scholarlike ('tis thought)  
As never any: yet was never taught.   

Epigr. 31. De Francisco Walsingham & Philppo Sidneio Equit.  
SIr Francis and sir Philip, have no Tomb,  
Worthy of all the honour that may be.  
And yet they lie not so for want of room,  
Or want of love in their posterity.  
Who would from living hearts untombe such ones,  
To bury under a few marble stones?  
Virtue dies not, her tomb we need not raise,  
Let them trust tombs which have outlived their praise.   

Epigr. 32.  
WHen I behold with deep astonishment,  
To famous Westminster how there resort,  
Living in brass or stony monyment.  
The princes and the worthies of all sort:  
Do not I see reformed Nobility,  
Without contempt or pride, or ostentation?  
And look upon offenselesse Majesty,  
Naked of pomp or earthly domination?  
And how a play-game of a painted stone,  
Contents the quiet now and silent spirits.  
Whom all the world which late they stood upon,  
Can not content nor squench their appetites,  
Life is a frost of cold felicity.  
And death the thaw of all our vanity.   

Epigr. 33.  
THe first and riper world of men and skill,  
Yields to our later time for three inventions,  
Miracolously we writ, we sail, we kill,  
As neither ancient scroll nor story mentions,  

Print.  The first, hath opened learning's old concealed,  
And obscured arts restored to the light,  
The second hidden countries hath revealed,  
And sent Christ's Gospel to each living wight, 
Load stone.   
These we commend, but O what needed more.  
To teach death more skill than it had before. 
Gun.    

Epigr. 34. Ad johannem Reynolds  
Do I call judgement to my foolish rhymes,  
And rarest art and reading them to view,  
Reynoldes: Religions Oracle most true.  
Mirror of art, and Austen of our times?  
For love of these I call thee, which I pray,  
That thou in reading these wouldst put away.   

Epigr. 35.  
I Saw a naked corpse spread on the ground.  
Over the dead I saw the living fight.  
If ever ought my senses did confound,  
Or touch my heart, it was this woeful sight.  
To wound the grave, to dare the dead to die.  
To sprinkle life on ashes putrefied.  
To weep with blood, to mourn with villainy,  
To look on death and not be mortified.  
Such funerals if we sustain to keep,  
I think the dead will rise, and for us weep.   

Epigr. 36.  
CHito and Trogus sin th'extremity,  
Chito of pride, Trogus of gluttony.  
Chito will wear his dinner on his back.  
Trogus will eat his shoes rather than lack.  
Chito hath earthen plate, but golden cuts:  
Tragus hath a freeze coat, but velvet guts.   

Epigr. 37. De Gualtero Deurox in expeditione gallica caeso  
T'Honour and bliss Deurox thou didst aspire,  
By worthy means, though fortune not thy friend  
took from thy joys, what virtue did desire,  
To give thy life: but paid thee in thine end.  
Only at this thy country doth repine,  
That her rejoicing is not joined with thine.   

Epigr. 38. Ad Lectorem.  
HAd I my wish contented I should be,  
Though neither rich nor better than you see.  
For 'tis nor wealth nor honour that I crave,  
But a short life, Reader, and a long grave.   

Epigr. 39 Ad Henricum Wottonem.  
WOtton my little Beer dwells on a hill,  
Vnderwhose foot the silver Trout doth swim  
The Trout silver without and goold within,  
Bibbing clear Nectar, which doth aye distill  
From Nulams' low head; there the birds are singing  
And there the partial sun still gives occasion,  
To the sweet dews eternal generation:  
There is green joy and pleasure ever springing,  
O iron age of men, O time of rue.  
Shame ye not that all things are goold but you?   

Epigr. 40.  
MY merry exercises of conceit,  
When I was once in a severer vain.  
Had felt one dash, my fury was so great,  
Up was my pen and scarce could I refrain,  
When two or three be speak which I liked best,  
And for their sakes I pardoned all the rest.   
Finis Libri quarti.   

ΕΠΙΓΡΑΜΜΑΤΩΝ. Liber Quintus.  

Epigr. 1 Ad Do. Mountioy.  
MOuntioy if I have praised worthy men,  
And with safe liberty contented me,  
Touching no states with my presumptuous pen:  
If from all secret biting I am free:  
I hope I shall not lose thy patronage,  
If I do lawful things and void of fear,  
If hunt the Fox if bring the Ape on stage,  
If I do whip a cur or bait the Bear,  
For these are exercises of such sort,  
As lie alike to earnest and to sport.   

Epigr. 2. Ad Lectorem.  
AN heavy book reader my weary pen,  
Doth here present to thee, which doth contain  
The faults and evils of so many men,  
With which my paper doth even sink again.  
They have confessed their sins into my book,  
Which here unloaded, all they have forsaken.  
Now for new faults and errors they must look.  
Clear of the old which I have undertaken.  
If I keep them, their record will remain.  
If I do not, they will return again.   

Epigr. 3.  
THough choice of faults, and purest vice selected  
Be my books subject here by me detected:  
Yet he that blames the writer is not wise.  
He gives vice a person, not persons vice.   

Epigr. 4. In Getam.  
GAeta from wool and weaving first began,  
Swelling and swelling to a gentleman.  
When he was gentleman, and bravely dight  
He left not swelling till he was a knight.  
At last, (forgetting what he was at furst)  
He swelled to be a Lord: and then he burst.   

Epigr. 5. In Severum.  
Severus hath no touch of eloquence.  
He can not double with a strain of wit.  
A ridled sentence floats above his sense.  
Figures are mysteries and far unfit.  
Well met Severus, for to tell ye true.  
This is a book of vulgars' made for you.   

Epigr. .6 In Candidum.  
WHen my friend Candidus was in distress,  
Me thought I joyed true felicity.  
To love his woe it was my happiness.  
And to feel half of my friend's misery.  
But when his fortune turned about her wheel.  
And melancholy good did ourtake him,  
I was no fit companion for his weal.  
From thence began my woe and my forsaking.  
For now he keeps the good as cruelly.  
As frank of late he spent the evil on me.   

Epigr. 7. In Thymum.  
THymus doth speak how all the father's old,  
Were men, & therefore thinks he may be bold.  
He blusheth not S. Austen to disgrace.  
Ambrose, and Jerome, when he comes in place.  
He cities S. Bernarde and S. Gregory,  
And then Casseers them of his homely.  
He names S. Chrysostome with much a do.  
And of the father's Greek, more, one or two.  
All these by speaking Thymus doth defame.  
And would abuse more if he knew their name.   

Epigr. 8. In Cacum.  
CAcus though nothing but a loaf pardie,  
He set before his hungry friends at board:  
Yet he prates of the sin of gluttony,  
And how that surfeit kills more than the sword,  
How three at Belins-gate with Oysters died  
How six upon one Cabbage surfeited.  
Of these he prates and many more beside  
Fearing lest we should surfeit on his bread.  
Cacus have done, for we may surfeit hear  
Well with thy words, but hardly with thy cheer.   

Epigr. .9  
RIchard gave money unto Christopher,  
Which should but say he was an usurer.  
For though poor Richard never yet could lend,  
Neither could borrow of his dearest friend:  
Yet he did think the name of usury.  
Should get him credit, wealth and honesty.  
O wretched age of ours, O times accursed.  
We are ashamd'e of all shames save the worst.   

Epigr. 10. In Mirum.  
REader be judge between Mirus and me,  
And as thou judgest it, so it shall be.  
I blame unseemly things with modesty.  
He rails upon me most reproachfully.  
I rail at none, but having showed the vice,  
Only commend the good, and warn the wise.  
Should I commend the bad? but that were sin,  
Should I dispraise the good? that would please him;  
Should I write nothing, and my pen refrain?  
There is so much matter, who can abstain?   

Epigr. 11. In Severum.  
Severus notes how every verse gins,  
And still he saith, he finds less adds then in's,  
Less adds then in's? why should it not be so?  
If men be nought is it my fault or no?  
Or should I praise vice, and commend a spot?  
Bear witness reader I commend it not.  
And yet I spare it, but I spare it so,  
I give a great Ass but a little blow.   

Epigr. 12. In Bardum.  
BArdus eats crusts and shrids of Barley bread,  
Parings of cheese, and drippings of the meat,  
Steru'de mutton, beef with soot be martelled.  
And skin and bones: all these will Bardus eat.  
He ends the loaf, he fleas the cheese, (O teeth)  
And when the bones dance naked than he prays.  
He makes the soot smoke out of rusty beef,  
And that which hunger killed, his hunger stays,  
And yet his father is no dog I see.  
His father is not, but his son may be.   

Epigr. 13.  
A Knot of marriage legitimate,  
Was knit between Fausta and Fortunate.  
She had interred husbands seven before.  
He four and three wives buried and no more.  
And now they strive which of them shall die furst,  
For in my judgement neither is the worst.  
Physician Lanio if he should come thither,  
He would perhaps unknitt them both together.   

Epigr. 14. Thymum.  
THymus hath sinned the sin of simony.  
Both for himself and all posterity.  
He hath made clean dispache and quite removed  
That holy land, so long so dearly loved:  
Better for their soul's health provide who could,  
Which shall not sin hereafter thought they would?   

Epigr. 15. In Castorem.  
CAstor at every fashions new disguise,  
Is moved to speak, (the cause doth so require.  
And vanity doth so offend his eyes)  
How men like monsters wander in attire.  
But the same fashions which he so did scoff,  
Long after like repentance he doth wear.  
After the braver sort have cast them off.  
Like fashions counting book, or regesture.  
Or like an Epitaph, which still doth cry.  
Loa here the end of all our bravery.   

Epigr. 16. In Brillum.  
BRillus is neither proud nor timorous,  
Nor of the swearing cut, as many be.  
He is not false, he is not covetous,  
He is not amorous, he is not he.  
He is not given to the sin of wine,  
And yet he is not honest for all this,  
How ever secretly he doth decline.  
I cannot but commend him for the miss.   

Epigr. 17 In S. Q. C. etc.  
SExtus and Quintus, Caius, and the rest,  
Look for their commendations with the best.  
Quintus hath a large house, which may contain,  
Three Lords, with room to spare, & all their train;  
Sextus hath corn and all provision meet,  
To victual, if need should require a fleet.  
Caius by th'year a thousand pounds may spend,  
Dacus may loan three thousand to his friend.  
How could I praise these, less I understood,  
The future tense of the potential mood?   

Epigr. 18.  
A Wonderful scarsety will shortly ensue,  
Of Butchers, of Bakers, of all such as brew▪  
Of Tanners, of Tailors, of Smiths and the rest.  
Of all occupations that can expres'de,  
In the year of our Lord, six hundred and ten.  
I think: for all these will be Gentlemen.   

Epigr. 19 in Philonem.  
PHilo if naked love you ask of me.  
White love, clear love, and such as loved was  
Of our forefathers in simplicity:  
Then love and look on me, I am your glass.  
This cuts you off: your friend, must fawn & flatter,  
Nay more than this, your friend must you belie:  
I to your face: and that for no small matter,  
But for your worth, your wirt and honesty.  
This cuts me of: the cause if you require,  
I would not have my friend prove me a liar.   

Epigr. 20. In Misum & Mopsam.  
MIsus and Mopsa hardly could agree,  
Striving about superiority.  
The text which saith that man and wise are one.  
Was the chief argument they stood upon.  
She held they both one woman should become.  
He held both should be man, and both but one.  
So they contended daily, but the the strife,  
Can not be ended, till both were one wife.   

Epigr. 21. In Gillonem.  
YOu which have sorrows hidden bottom sounded,  
And felt the ground of tears and bitter mo●n  
You may conceive how Gilloes' heart is wounded,  
And judge of his deep feeling by your own.  
His toothless wife than she was left for dead.  
When grave and all was made, recovered.   

Epigr. 22. In Lanionem medicum.  
Physician Lanio never will forsake,  
His golden patient while his head doth ache:  
When he is dead farewell, he comes not there.  
He hath nor cause, nor courage to appear.  
He will not look upon the face of death,  
Nor bring the dead unto her mother earth.  
I will not say, but if he did the deed,  
He must be absent, less the corpse should bleed.   

Epigr. 23. in Dacum.  
DAcus hath all things that he can desire,  
He hath fair land, and yellow goold to spare.  
The good of which God knows he comes not near  
But picks out pain, and fee death on the care.  
He will not warm his back with one good coat  
Nor spend one penny to offend his store.  
He will not feast his belly with a groat.  
Hunger and he, are matches and no more.  
he'll taste no sweet of all his happiness.  
Belike he knows his own unworthiness.   

Epigr. 24.  
Our perverse age doth reckon least of all,  
Of the true noble, plain, and liberal.  
And giveth honour most injurious.  
Unto the base, crafty and covetous.  
What makes the good repine? what wrongs the wise?  
What is the spoil of all? fortunate vice.   

Epigr. 25. in Timonem.  
TImon is sick of seven which deadly be.  
And yet not like to die for aught I see.  
He hath the soggy sin of Ale and cakes.  
He hath the sin of lace and fustniapes,  
He hath the seeing sin the hearts great'st woe.  
And yet he hath the sin, of winken to.  
He hath the sparrows sin, & these which follow,  
He hath, he hath, the red sin and the yellow.   

Epigr. 26. In Septimium.  
SEptimius doth excel for dainty cheer,  
His diet is old Murton and new beer.  
And sugared mustard and sweet vinegeere.   

Epigr. 27. In Cophum.  
COphus doth live as if he could bestow,  
Life on his friend, and life upon his foe.  
As if he had a life to sport and play.  
As if he had a life to cast away.  
As if he had change of lives, and life did sound▪  
Not as one farthing of his thousand pound.  
As if his lands were wondrous large and great.  
And life but one small dust to that huge heap.  
Yet life is all his goold, and all his land.  
Himself and all, if he did understand.   

Epigr. 28. Translatum ex Martiali.  
Neighbour's, I marvel much to see your strife,  
Since ye are so well matched, so like of life,  
A most vile husband, a most wicked wife.   

Epigr. 29. In Lalum.  
A Dry beam feeds the mind, as Pyndar writes,  
And quickeneth reason with refined spirits.  
But your conceit is dull and nothing such,  
Lalus; I think you wet your mind to much.   

Epigr. 30. In Castorem.  
THe gooldsmith guildeth silver, tin or brass,  
The painter paints on wood or baserstone.  
What gooldsmith guilded goold that ever was?  
What painter ever painted rubies? none.  
But Castor paints himself, and thinks it good.  
To steal away his pictures praise from wood:   

Epigr. 31. In Lotum.  
LOtus owes little unto memory,  
He will forget his purse, his cloak, his hat.  
I, both a good turn and an injury.  
His friend, himself, and more I know not what.  
Nothing remains of all things more and less,  
To be forgotten, but forgetfulness.   

Epigr. 32. In Momum.  
HEaring my short writs, Momus saith of me,  
Why should not I indite as well as he?  
As well as I Momus? so mought ye do,  
Rather than I should write as well as you.   

Epigr. 33. in Vlyssem.  
VLysses having scaped the ocean floood.  
● wise ten years pilgrimage in foreign lands.  
And the sweet deaths of Sirens tuned with blood,  
And Cyclops jaws, and Circe's charming hands:  
Comes home, and seeming safe, (as he mistakes).  
He steps away, and falls in to a Ajax.   

Epigr. 34. in Medonta.  
TOward my mart●, Medon, I will said I  
〈…〉 a book (but you refused)  
Which for your kindness sake I did deny.  
〈…〉 nde as being more abused.  
And cause you had of both to be afraid.  
Whether it were to pay, or to be paid.   

Epigr. 35.  
WIth charge of souls as Politicians say,  
Possess one clerk should but one benefice.  
But without charge of souls, we see how they.  
Stick not to lay up, four and seven apiece.  
We clerks would keep one living and no more.  
So you which are not clerks would keep but two.   

Epigr. 36. in festum  
TEll Festus that this mirth and jollity,  
These suits these feasts, this daily flocking to him,  
This gameling and this wanton luxury,  
This carelessness, this free heart will undo him▪  
He cannot hear, his wits are not his own,  
But his sweet fortunes, whose command is such,  
That Festus senses quite are overthrown,  
Since she gave him of hers, a little too much.  
Then why advise you him? let it suffice,  
That he doth that himself must make him wise.   

Epigr. 37. In Asbestum.  
CHlorus was green, when in his tenderness,  
Asbestus did contemn his littenesse.  
Yet did he force his buds, and wreak his spite  
Upon his leaves before his fruit was ripe.  
When thou bar'st fruit Chlorus, as little tree,  
Then did Asbestus pull thy fruit from thee.  
Till time drew on, which did his rage impeach,  
And bore thy fruit on high, above his reach:  
Then other means, by malice, he had none,  
To work revenge, but hang himself thereon.   

Epigr. 38. in Scillam.  
NO enemy of Sulla's can accuse him,  
Of any wrong or villainy pretended.  
Of any provocation or abusing,  
Or the least cause why they should be offended.  
Yet Scylla hath a fault to make amends.  
He will abuse none but his dearest friends.   

Epigr. 39 in Merum.  
MErus doth reconcile Philosophy,  
To bellies want and backs necessity.  
This Moon will cause much appetite of meat,  
The outward cold doubling the inward heat.  
Show him your flock: and he will undertake,  
How many jerkins all their wool will make.  
Show him an hundred beeves: he'll make a plain  
Account, how many dinners they contain.  
Drink you Tobacco near so secretly,  
Yet by the smoke he'll tell the quantity.   

Epigr. 40. in Castorem.  
CAstor doth gravely shake his hollow beard,  
And talks of policy and feats of war.  
Masters of state and rule, I am afeard,  
He minds to be some prince's counsellor.  
Yet many miss which aim in such a sort,  
I think he'll never be but of the court.   

Epigr. 40.  
SOme understand my meaning as it is:  
Some understand it worse; again some better▪  
They do me right which read, and do not miss.  
But to the other two I am a debtor.  
The best I will requite the best I may.  
The worst shall trust me if I cannont pay.   
Finis Libri quinti.   

ΕΠΙΓΡΑΜΜΑΤΩΝ. Liber Sextus.  

Epigr. 1. Ad Lectorem.  
SOme mirth doth please, to some it is offence.  
Some will have vices touched, some none of that,  
Some will have sleight conceit, some deeper sense,  
Some will have this, and some they know not what,  
And he which must please all and himself to,  
Reader, I think something he hath to do.   

Epigr. 2. In Carum.  
CArus abuseth me and saith I fill,  
My papers with fond trifles and delights.  
Would I could make so well as he can spill.  
Yet is there something more in my short writs.  
For tell me Carus, if I be so vain,  
As of mere courtesy you say I am:  
Where did I borrow of an idle brain?  
What common jest lent me an Epigram?  
And yet I can be plain, do not mistake.  
But if I be, it shall be for your sake.   

Epigr. 3. Ad Do. Mountioy.  
NO Helicone Mountioy, no Castale well,  
Shall wet my tongue to make thy praises last:  
Thy praises they themselves so sweetly tell,  
Welling forth from thy virtues fount so fast.  
That even the muses hence might fett supply.  
To wet their tongues, if Helicone were dry.   

Epigr. 4. Ad Rodulphum Horsee. equit.  
HOrsee, my slender muse not learned to fly,  
But learned to speak, & country songs to sing:  
Shall give thy name wings of eternity.  
And living glory to thine ashes bring:  
Thou which didst feed the homebred poet's pen,  
And cheered'st up his sad and heavy muse,  
Take thy reward among no vulgar men,  
And these few greeting lines do not refuse,  
Which have no other duty to impart:  
Then t'answere high deserts with humble art.   

Epigr. 5. in Philonem.  
PHilo, you love a while unfeignedly.  
But when with wrath enraged is your vain,  
Then you reveal what ever secretly,  
The bosom of our friendship did contain.  
love Captains Philo and Italians:  
Fencers, soldiers and the gallant crew.  
And having tamed your friendship by their hand,  
Bring it to me and I will honour you.  
Or if ye dare not love to suffer wrong,  
Then love me Philo, but without a tongue.   

Epigr. 6. ad Thomam Egerton equitem, custodem magni sigilli.  
EGerton, all the arts, whom thou dost cherish,  
Sing to thy praises most melodiously.  
And register thee to eternity:  
Forbidding thee as thou dost them to perish.  
And arts praise the, and she which is above,  
Whom thou above all arts dost so protect.  
And for her sake all sciences respect.  
Arts sovereign mistress, whom thy soul doth love  
Thus you as stars in earth and heaven shine.  
Thou hers on earth, and she in heaven thine.   

Epigr. 7. In prophanationem nominis Dei.  
GOds name is bare of honour in our hearing,  
And even worn out with our blasphemous swearing.  
Between the infant & the aged both  
The first and last they utter, is an oath.  
O hellish manners of our profane age.  
jehovahs' fear is scoffed upon the stage,  
The Mimic jester, names it every day.  
Unless God be blasphem'de, it is no play.   

Epigr. 8.  
WHen the great forests dwelling was so wide,  
And careless wood grew fast by the fires side:  
Then dogs did want the shepherds field to keep.  
Now we want Foxes to consume our sheep.   

Epigr. 9  
THey say the usurer Misus hath a mill,  
Which men to powder grindeth cruelly.  
But what is that to me? I fear no ill,  
For smaller than I am I cannot be.   

Epigr. 10. De Philippo Hispaniae Rege.  
IF works do save, happy king Philip is,  
He may set heaven to so high a prize.  
Since all the goold of Indie now is his,  
That he alone may purchase Paradise,  
But merits save, so saith the Church of Rome.  
And Philip doth believe it verily,  
With hired arms which renteth Christendom.  
And with huge sums doth purchase villainy  
'Gainst princes heads, these are his precious balms,  
●y Rome; teach you your king to give such alms?   

Epigr. 11. In Thymum.  
AMong abuses which you speak unto,  
And justly discommend (I know you do.)  
(For vice is strong, and which I wonder more,  
By multiplying stronger than before)  
The painting of the face which you detest,  
Is one, and not the least among the rest.  
But you paint sermons to God's words disgrace,  
Thymus I would you did but paint your face.   

Epigr. 12.  
THE wicked wound us, yet ask why we bleed,  
The wicked smite us, yet ask why we cry:  
They clip our wings, and yet would have us fly.  
They ask more brick, yet take away our reed.  
And these not Pharaohs out of Egypt sprung,  
But our own Israelites which do this wrong.  
And we from stranger countries having rest,  
In our sweet Canaan are thus oppressed.   

Epigr. 13.  
THere is no fish in brooks little or great,  
And why? for all is fish that comes to net.  
The small eat sweet, the great more daintily.  
The great will seethe or bake, the small will fry.  
For rich men's tables serve the greater fish.  
The small are to the poor a dainty dish,  
The great are at their best, and serve for store.  
The small once ta'en, keep or you catch no more.  
We must thank ponds, for rivers we have none.  
The fowl swim in the brook, the fish are flown.   

Epigr. 14. De Piscatione.  
FIshing, if I a fisher may protest,  
Of pleasures is the sweetest, of sports the best,  
Of exercises the most excellent.  
Of recreations the most innocent.  
But now the sport is marred, and wot ye why?  
Fishes decrease, and fishers multiply.   

Epigr. .15  
COntent feeds not, one glory, or one pelf,  
Content can be contented with herself.   

Epigr. 16. Ad Samuelem Danielem.  
DAniell, beside the subject of thy verse,  
With thy rich vain and style adorned so.  
Besides that sweetness with which I confess,  
Thou in thy proper kind dost overflow.  
Me thinks thou stealest my Epigrams away,  
And this small glory for which now I wait.  
For reading thee me thinks thus would I say.  
This hits my vain, this had been my conceit.  
But when I come myself to do the like,  
Then pardon me, for I am far to seek.   

Epigr. 17. In Sextum.  
SExtus upon a spleen, did, rashly swear,  
That no new fashion he would ever wear,  
He was forsworn for see what did ensue.  
He wore the old, till the old was the new.   

Epigr. 18. in Scillam.  
SCilla were I in love with bravery,  
With cavaliers, and with the gallant crew.  
With captains, soldiers, and such men as you  
I never would forsake the company.  
But if a word pass unadvisedly.  
If either jest or earnest please you not.  
Out flies the dagger, friendship is forgot.  
Stabbing is but a common courtesy.  
And though the stranger catch it now and than,  
The new acquaintance at his first repair.  
And he that meets you in the street or fair.  
Yet for the most your friend is your first man▪  
How should I dare love him, which dares defend,  
He is no man which dares not stab his friend?   

Epigr. 19  
LAlus was noted for vain talk and prating.  
Carus for drinking and Tobacco taking.  
When they both died and were ripped up apart,  
One had no breath, the other had no heart.   

Epigr. 20 In hospitem quendam.  
MIne host Porsenna, when I am with you.  
I must praise all, though all be out of fashion.  
Or else mine host will fight and his friends to.  
And his friends friends, & all the generation,  
I drank bad beer, my throat can say no less.  
I say so now, I durst not say so then,  
I supped with clowns, rough, rude and mannerless.  
But I must say, 'twere courteous gentlemen,  
I praised your building (if I may so term it.)  
Your hilly prospect & your pasture thin.  
Your air, your language, though I could not learn  
And all your pedigree, and all your kin!  
But justly was I plaug'de for this I think.  
For see, when I came home my breath did stink.   

Epigr. 21. in Cinnam.  
CInna told a long tale to no effect,  
I'll say so much quoth Scylla in a word.  
That happy word we longing did expect.  
And forth it came as leisure could afford,  
Which when we heard much like the cuckoos song  
The tale was short, and Sulla's word was long.   

Epigr. 22. Ad Robertum Wiliams.  
WHo is my friend Williams dost thou inquire?  
He that will love my want and poverty.  
He that will love through water & through fire,  
Through shame, through every kind of misery.  
Which will not scorse me for a better friend,  
Nor for sweet goold the father of all strife.  
Which will not hate me though I do offend,  
Nor sell me for a tale, nor for his wife.  
He whom I smooth, and round, & perfect prove,  
Tiring out all the evils which molest me,  
Making me happy with his constant love,  
Which is the earthly heaven where I rest me:  
He which doth love, nor more nor less than this.  
He is my friend William's and I am his.   

Epigr. 23.  
FIrst Clerus by fair flattery Princes sought,  
Then was cast of to the Nobility.  
He flattered them till he was set at nought,  
And was thrust down to the gentility;  
Now he speaks fair to them and th'yeomanry.   

Epigr. 24.  
Old Abbeys who that lives doth not despise,  
Which knew their fall & knows they cannot rise?  
And I despise the new, because I see.  
They were▪ but are not; these will never be.  
But were't not sin, and might I be so bold,  
I would desire one new for many old.   

Epigr. 25.  
THe Spaniards are a warlike nation,  
We are more warlike as they know and fear,  
But they are strong to make invasion.  
But we more strong to chase them every where,  
But they have multitudes to make supply.  
We are more peopled, fuller of fresh blood.  
They love their Prince and country zealously.  
But we more zealous for our sovereigns' good.  
Yet we should fear them for our wickedness.  
They are more wicked, here we only less.   

Epigr. 26. in Papam.  
THe Pope; when tender health her infant sense,  
receiveth from the now approaching Sun.  
And new borne blood of heavens influence:  
With prime of life to blossom hath begun.  
Forbids all flesh and sweeter nutriment,  
Which sappy Nature to life's root would lay.  
Yea he forbids meats most indifferent.  
Eggs, 
Herlilques.  cheese, butter and milk, and all save hay.  
He not content, false wolf, (as others do)  
To kill the soul, would kill the body to.   

Epigr. 27. Ad Reginam Elizabetham.  
Love, the sweet band of thy desired reign,  
From thine own heart, is so shed into many.  
As owd'e of all, can not be paid of any.  
Lest all in one united should contain.  
Such love in such an heart as near was any.  
Which would to love thee, yet wish itself many.   

Epigr. 28. Ad Lectorem.  
REader thou thinkest that Epigrams be rife,  
Because by hundred they are flocking here.  
I read an hundred pamphlets; for my life  
Can I find matter for two verses there?  
Two hundred ballets yielded me no more,  
Besides barren reading and conference.  
Besides whole legends of the rusty store,  
Of stories and whole volumes void of sense.  
And yet the Printer thinks that he shall lose,  
Which buys my Epigrams at pence a piece.   

Epigr. 29. Epitap. jacobi juggler.  
ANd was not death a sturdy strugler,  
In overthrowing james the juggler?  
Which when he lived small truth did use,  
That here he lies may be no news.   

Epigr. 30.  
Upon the plain as I road all alone,  
Assaulted by two sturdy lads I was.  
I am a poor man Sires, let me be gone.  
Nay, but ye shall be poor before ye pass.  
And so I was: yet lost nothing thereby.  
Would they had robbed me of my poverty.   

Epigr. 31.  
DAdus paid dear for learning, but the time  
Did cross him so, he could not have his forth.  
For when he was by study a Divine.  
And at his best; learning was nothing worth.  
Is learning nothing worth so dearly bought,  
Which could buy all things when it was in prime?  
Set we the goolden sciences at nought.  
And sell we heaven for earth, and goold for slime?  
Yet were I Dadus I would not repent.  
A scholars want excels a clowns content.   

Epigr. 32. Epitaphium johannis Cofferer.  
HEre lies john Cofferer and takes his rest.  
Now he hath changed a coffer for a chest.   

Epigr. 33.  
A Pilgrim beggar on a day,  
Did meet a Lord upon the way.  
I trust your honour will be good,  
As was my dream last night by th'rood,  
For why me thought a perilous thing,  
Upon a sudden ch'was a King.  
Help him, which had his dream been true  
Last night, mought done so much for you.  
The Lord replying answered than:  
O happy dream, O wretched man.  
And happy man, although but poor.  
If thou hadst never waked more.  
And yet thy fancy was not mean  
Beggar, I envy at thy dream..  
This answer made the beggar prate,  
Sir take my dream for your estate.  
This much your reason will afford.  
Sleep you a King, I'll wake a Lord.  
Thus every state receives his punishment.  
The poor of want, the rich of discontent.   

Epigr. 34. In Titum.  
Titus' is fast and hath no starting ways,  
As fast, as is the nail driven to the head.  
Or as pale goold kept under many keys.  
Or as a true-love knot well hampered.  
Not for his virtue envy did this deed.  
Nor for his vice he suffereth of the laws,  
(For good and evil both hurt if they exceed.)  
But for his word and for no other cause.  
He plaints unto his friends, and cries, O Lord.  
I am kept, for not keeping of my word.   

Epigr. 35.  
Antiquity, of learning holding dear  
Made vaults, and goodly shrines to close it in,  
And raised her stately pillars year by year.  
To make her outsides answer that within.  
Our age hath razed those goodly monuments.  
And pierced the temples where the muses lay,  
To all succeeding times astonishment.  
Digging for ignorance out of their clay.  
Yet spare that little which is not defaced,  
While her decays do suffer her to stand:  
You which that rich and pietious balm do waste▪  
Which did so sweetly smell in all our land:  
And for your Prince, and country's sake relent.  
Yours is the sin, there's is the punishment.   

Epigr. 36.  
IN quiet sleep a judgement seat I saw,  
Two brought as guilty to their trial, when  
The quest was charged according to the law  
To give their verditt on these silly men.  
But by the jury he which had done ill,  
Acquitted was, the innocent betrayed.  
Then stood I up (although I had no skill,  
To plead before a judge,) and this I said,  
This is no jury things of right to try,  
But to say truth, this is an injury.   

Epigr. 37.  
IF I dream Epigrams, I do as they.  
Which use to dream of what they did the day,   

Epigr. 38. Ad Georgium Morton, armig. de Truta a se capta.  
MOrton how foolish was this silly trout,  
Which quickly saw, and pertly played about  
The little fly, of bigness of a pin.  
But oversaw the fisher and his ginn.  
So men do oft which greedy are of gain.  
Eyed to their profit, but blind to their pain.   

Epigr. 39 De Richardo Tharliono.  
WHo taught me pleasant follies, can you tell?  
I was not taught and yet I did excel.  
'tis hard to learn without a precedent.  
'tis harder to make folly excellent.  
I saw, yet had no light to guide mine eyes.  
I was extolled for that which all despise.   

Epigr. 40. De Barnei Poesi.  
BArneus verse, (unless I do him wrong,)  
Is like a cup of sack, heady and strong.   

Epigr. 41.  
Oews now old and spent, and hard bestead.  
Taking much travail for a little bread.  
Wishes for youth in which he could endure,  
To toil, and sweat, and labour every hour.  
As if Prometheus eaten up with pain.  
Should wish his heart fresh to be gnawn again.   

Epigr. 42. Ad Guilielmum Arnoldum.  
ARnold, the father's Oracles profound,  
Sink deep into men's hearing when we cite them,  
And sometimes Poets verses bear such ground,  
As great divines divinely do recite them.  
And though the sum & substance main they bear  
Whose settled studies yield that sweet increase,  
Yet sometimes with decorum we may hear.  
A Poet speak, a father hold his peace.  
As when a father like a Poet creaks.  
And when a Poet like a father speaks.   

Epigr. 43. in Severum.  
Severus would not have me slack my vain,  
Nor vary sense to divers kinds of writing.  
Nor play with meanings which may ease my brain  
And case my reader if they do not like him.  
But I must rack my wits till all be spent,  
That he may nothing but cry: excellent.   
Finis Libri Sexti.   

ΕΠΙΓΡΑΜΜΑΤΩΝ. Liber Septimus  

Epigr. 1. Ad Lectorem.  
IF thou think, Reader, that desire of gain,  
Hath moved me to indite or stir'de my vain.  
Or rather if thou think I undertake,  
To come upon this stage for glories sake.  
I'll give thee all that profit and that praise.  
And make me but a Lawyer for three days.   

Epigr. 2. De Mathone.  
MAtho bethought what life him best might fit,  
For baseness sake he scorned all occupation.  
Study he could not for he wanted wit.  
And fight he durst not, hence he took occasion  
To love, of all lives this life pleased him best:  
Till love to all these evils him objected.  
To labour, study, fighting and the rest,  
More these by all, then ever he suspected.  
Thus they endure, which live in lovers state.  
For one thing loved, a thousand things they hate.   

Epigr. 3. In Cophum.  
COphus is a fine dancer and a trim.  
A nimbler head to dance you have not seen.  
Dance you he danceth, cease yet danceth he.  
Praise or dispraise him, yet about will he.  
When you are weary he will hold it out.  
When he is weary, he will skip about.  
All that behold are weary, and are gone.  
Yet Cophus danceth being left alone.  
At last Cophus himself departs, but so.  
Me thinks Cophus doth dance when he doth go.   

Epigr. 4.  
SExtus is thrall to gold, as many be,  
But hath it in his chest, happy is he.  
Dacus three ships do cut the Ocean wave.  
What need he grudge to be a goolden slave?  
Misus good land by coveting hath got.  
I am a thrall to gold, and have it not.   

Epigr. 5. De Fortuna sua.  
I See good Fortune run before,  
As Palinurus saw the shore.  
And if I die before it hitch,  
Welfare mine eyes for they be rich.   

Epigr. 6. Ad Thomam Strargwayes de Martialis Epigrammate, Aurum & opes & rura, etc.  
GOold, wealth, and gleab, how many friends will yield?  
But few in wit will give place to their friend.  
Why martial? many have goold wealth & gleab  
But few have wit, if so our strife hath end.  
And sooth se says Strangwaies, but yet I would,  
That I for want of wit might say heers goold.   

Epigr. 7. ad Lectorem.  
REader I warn thee, now the second time,  
Stand not upon th'exactness of my rhyme.  
I admit a small to shun a great offence.  
Better ten ●●mes should perish then one sense,   

Epigr. 8. In Carum.  
WHen Carus died these were the last he spoke,  
O friend's take heed Tobacco was my death.  
You that can judge tell me for Carus sake,  
He which died so, died he for want of breath?  
If so he did, then am I more in doubt  
How breath being taken in, may blow breath out?   

Epigr. 9 De senectute & inventute.  
AGe is deformed, youth unkind,  
We scorn their bodies, they our mind.   

Epigr. 10. Ad johannem Sooche.  
THou with the last sweet doctor named by me,  
Of any of thy name first in desert.  
First in my love, first placed in mine heart.  
demandest thou the cause what it may be?  
To my desire invention seemed scant,  
Which now doth set thee forth & yet doth want,   

Epigr. 11. De nono orb.  
THe world's great Peers & mighty conquerors  
Whose sword hath purchas'de them eternal fame  
If they survived in this age of ours,  
Might add more glory to their lasting name.  
For him which Carthage sacked and overthrew,  
We have found out an other Africa.  
New gaul's and Germans Caesar might subdue,  
And Pompey great an other Asia.  
But you O Christian Princes do not so.  
Seek not to conquer nations by the sword,  
Whom you may better quell and overthrow,  
By winning them to Christ and to his word▪  
Give him the new world for old Asia's loss.  
And set not up your standard, but his cross.   

Epigr. 12. De Moro & Caro patrono.  
MOrus presented to a fat benefice.  
Conditioned with Carus but for the tenth fleece  
Post twenty years service his patron did grudge,  
And said that the tenth of the tenth was to much.  
A quarrel was picked, and set was the day,  
To send insufficient Morus away:  
When he was removed and quite dispossessed.  
He shut up the matter with this bitter jest.  
Bala●ming his patron which did him this wrong,  
Am not I thine asle which have served thee thus long   

Epigr. 13. ad reginam Elizabetham.  
NOw forty solemn feasts, thine english nation.  
Fed with sweet peace & plenty all the while.  
Hath yielded to thy happy coronation.  
O fairer keeper of the fairest isle.  
Our first great joys with greater seconded.  
Our second with succeeding joys defa●t,  
They with the next extinct and vanished:  
The next with greater joys, all with the last,  
And yet thou liv'st to make us yet more fay●e,  
And to set up new triumphs and new pleasure,  
To add more sweetness to thy sweetest reign.  
To make more room for joy which knows no measure.  
O live as do the stars, which shine for ever.  
And as the Sun so rise, but set thou never.   

Epigr. .14 ad eandem.  
ELiza, thou hast spread a goolden peace,  
Over thy land thrice blessed by thy reign.  
And were it that some civil wars did cease,  
Which in ourselves divided we sustain:  
Between the patron and poor minister,  
Landlords and Tenants, reigning more and more.  
Between the borrower and the viuter.  
Between so few rich, and so many poor:  
Ours were the golden age, but these home jars,  
Houses, and fields and states have overthrown.  
And spoiled us no less than foreign wars.  
Thank we this idle mischief of our own.  
But who did hear, or who did ever read,  
Peace without wars, or something else in stead.   

Epigr. 15. In Misum.  
FIrst Misus coveted a piece of gold,  
Then a small house, and little garden plot.  
Then copy land, and after a freehold.  
At last a ship by coveting he got,  
Then out he stretched reaching avarice,  
To a ship load with goold, and by degrees,  
Manors and castles tempt his hollow eyes,  
Then to a mine of gold he swiftly flees.  
Then greater Lordships he doth seize upon.  
No goold can still his bottomless desire.  
Nothing can scape his goold, he presseth on,  
And to all India lastly doth aspire.  
Where now a little mine hath him inhold,  
Where is nor house▪ garden, land, ship nor goold.   

Epigr. 16. Ad Comitem Essexa.  
HOw hath a little chance great fortune crest?  
The Spanish fleet even balanced with goold,  
A narrow miss did snatch out of our hold,  
Which we near had, but yet desire as lost.  
But if this loss must purchase thy return.  
And buy thee out of danger eminent,  
How rich are we by losing, and content,  
How woe are they that they are not undone?  
More thou art feared then any loss of Spain  
Deurox, and England loves thee more than gain▪   

Epigr. 17.  
Room hath a batrayne vine, yet doth not spare  
With a strong hedge to compass her about.  
We have the true vine, which we do not care  
To fence against the wild boars rooting out.  
If my poor prayers may be heard in time,  
I would we had their hedge, or they our vine.   

Epigr. 18. In Caium.  
Caius hath brought from foreign lands,  
A sooty wench with many hands.  
Which do in goolden letters say,  
She is his wife not stolen away.  
He mought have saved with small discretion,  
Paper ink and all confession.  
For none that seethe her face and making,  
Will judge her stolen but by mistaking.   

Epigr. 19 De naevo in fancy Faustinae.  
Faustina hath a spot upon her face,  
Mixed with sweet beauty making for her grace.  
By what sweet influence it was begot,  
I know not, but it is a spotless spot.   

Epigr. 20. De eadem.  
AS with fresh meats mixture of salt is meet,  
And vinegar doth relish well the sweet.  
So in fair faces moulds sometimes arise,  
Which serve to stay the surfeit of our eyes.   

Epigr. 22.  
IF a poor minister have done amiss,  
Then his high calling is objected to him▪  
High to all wrong I grant our calling is,  
And great and wondrous to our undoing,  
But they which set us high to all disgrace,  
In honour put us to the lowest place.   

Epigr. 23. Ad Thomam Strangwaies.  
Strangwaeies' leave London & her sweet contents,  
Or bring them down to me to make me glad.  
And give one month to country merriments.  
Give me a few days for the years I had.  
The Poet's songs and sports we will read over,  
Which in their goolden choir they have resounded  
And spill our readings one upon another,  
And read our spillings sweetly so confounded.  
Nulam shall lend us night in midst of day,  
When to the even valley we repair.  
When we delight ourselves with talk or play,  
Sweet with the infant grass and virgin air.  
These in the heat, but in the even later,  
we'll walk the meads, and read trout in the water.   

Epigr. 24. In Mathonem.  
MAtho with angry countenance threatened me.  
For that I touched him in a verse of mine.  
I said I knew it not, not so quoth he?  
That can I show: and pointed to the rhyme.  
So he accused himself, for had not he,  
He might have kept concealments close for me.   

Epigr. 25.  
Stand, want, and wait, do what you can.  
Stand poor, want fool, waire servingman.  
Their doors are made to shut thee out,  
Or let thee in to go without.  
Their goolde their idol they do make.  
Should they for thee their God forsake.  
Fie filthy muckers 'tis nor so,  
Ye err, God is not goold I know.  
But if he did consist of pelf,  
What would you have him all yourself?   

Epigr. 26.  
PHilo in friendly sort saluteth me,  
And feeds me with embracing courtesy.  
But what of these sith he hath wronged me?  
Thus do I suffer philo's courtesy▪   

Epigr. 27.  
TH'archangel Michael looketh wan & blue,  
More than his predecessor Bartlemewe.  
More than his neighbour Matthew: as men say,  
Because he hath so many debts to pay.   

Epigr. 28 De infant mortuo ante partum.  
THe infant lying in the mother's womb,  
Through unknown grief & unsuspected death  
Resinged not fully yet received breath.  
And so lay buried in a living tomb.  
The woeful mother's heart this so did grieve.  
She wished it had been buried alive.   

Epigr. 29. In Causidicos.  
Our vice, our outrage and maliciousness,  
Set over us new masters and new laws.  
Which preying on our wicked simpleness.  
Do grow so great by minishing the cause.   

Epigr. 30.  
HE which an elder seeking to defame,  
Reveals his secret to his enemies.  
Deserves the heavy curse of wicked Cham,  
Which did contemn his father's privities.  
The Sire was drunk, and yet the plague did light,  
Upon the son which scorned a sinful sight.   

Epigr. 31.  
Clerks to their livings wedded once did thrive,  
From which some are divourst and yet do wive,  
Then Moses law took hold, the brother dead,  
The brother should surviving raise him seed.  
But we succeeding husbands can have none.  
Which are so wicked husbands to our own,  
The wife tofore which many husbands had,  
With their soft raiment and rich jewels clad.  
Decked with their comely love and costly care.  
Tired like a Princess and without compare.  
We have cast of from her own blood & kin.  
To serve a stranger and to stoop to him,  
And she already groans as thrall indeed,  
And we yet living stink of this foul deed.  
What should the enemy do with barbarous knife?  
Learn of the husband to torment the wife?  
Wolves to yourselves, vipers to your own mother.  
And caterpillars eating one an other.   

Epigr. 32  
HOw dearly doth the simple husband buy,  
His wives defect of will when she doth die?  
Better in death by will to let her give,  
Then let her have her will while she doth live.   

Epigr. 33. De Poeta Martiali.  
Martial in Rome full thirty years had spent,  
Then went he home, was not that banishment?   

Epigr. 34. In Laetum▪  
LEtus in virtuous manners may excel,  
But what need hath he so rath to be good?  
His strength of body which he knows to well,  
His life forbids him and his youthly blood.  
Thus vice and pleasure have our strength & prime,  
And virtue hath, the leavings of them both.  
She hath the orts and parings of our time.  
Then when even sin our carrion course doth loath,  
We may be good, but must be aged surst.  
Thus we are good never, or at our worst.   

Epigr. 35. Epitaph: johannis Sande.  
WHo would live in others breath?  
Fame deceives the dead man's trust.  
Since our names are chang'de in death.  
Sand I was, and now am dust.   

Epigr. 36. De puero balbutiente.  
ME thinks 'tis pretty sport to hear a child,  
Rocking a word in mouth yet undefiled.  
The tender racket rudely plays the sound,  
Which weakly banded cannot back rebound,  
And the soft air the softer roof doth kiss,  
With a sweet dying and a pretty miss.  
Which hears no answer yet from the white rank  
Of teeth, not risen from their coral bank.  
The alphabet is searched for letters soft,  
To try a word before it can be wrought.  
And when it slideth forth, is goes as nice,  
As when a man doth walk upon the ice.   

Epigr. 37.  
Such was my grief upon my fatal fall,  
That all the world me thought was dark withal  
And yet I was deceived as I know.  
For when I proou'de I found it nothing so  
I showed the Sun my lamentable sore.  
The Sun did see and shined as before.  
Then to the Moon did I reveal my plight.  
She did diminish nothing of her light.  
Then to the stars I went and let them see,  
No not a star would shine the less for me.  
Go wretched man, thou seest thou art forlorn.  
Thou seest the heavens laugh while thou dost mourn.   

Epigr. 38.  
YE Cooks and Pothecaries be my friend,  
For ye of all, my book dares not offend,  
I made him for the homely country's taste,  
They love not spice, they use not feed on past.  
If he have salt enough than let him go.  
You have no need to put in pepper to.   

Epigr. 39 Ad Do. Mountioy.  
IF in these naked lines perhaps be aught,  
Great Lord, which your conceit or sense may fit,  
Then had that died and perished from your thought  
Had not audacious need preserved it.  
If need have well done, I am glad therefore.  
But I beseech you let her do no more.   

Epigr. 7. ad Lectorem.  
IF my books easy of digestion be,  
Thank not my matter reader but thank me,  
How many verses have I canceled?  
How many lompes of meaning seasoned.  
I suffer Epigrams to sprowte forth, when  
I use mine art, and prune them with my pen.  
For he that will write Epigrams indeed,  
Must use to wring the meaning till it bleed.   

Epigr. 41. in Sabellum.  
BIting Sabellus hereat takes offence,  
Because I lay not open all my sense.  
All must be plain, and nothing I must hide,  
There must be notes at end, and notes by side.  
There must be nothing fett, and nothing strained,  
The reader must delighted be, not pained,  
But I am of an other mind, for why  
Should not he take some pains a well as I?   

Epigr. 42.  
Our vice is run beyond all old men's saws,  
And far authentical above our law S.  
And scorning virtues safe and goolden mean.  
Sits uncontrolled upon the high extreme,  
Circe's thin monsters painted out the hue,  
Of feigned filthiness, but ours is true.  
Our vice puts down all proverbs and all themes,  
Our vice excels all fables and all dreams.   

Epigr. 43.  
When books & poor men, they their parish burned  
These their low houses razed & overturned,  
Are driven to seek, changing their old repair,  
They in the ground, these dwelling in the air.  
When sport is made of damned fornication.  
And usury an honest occupation.  
When dull, crammed, gross, and swollen gluttony,  
Scorns wholesome temperance with leaden eye.  
When pride like polling miller sits upon.  
The bated grist of poor religion.  
When holy tithes the highest callings price,  
Make jags for coats, and fuel for the dice  
May we not well O times, on manners cry?  
This were an ease, it were no remedy.   

Epigr. 44. In Brillum.  
BRillus told such a tale as never man  
Did hear, or think of since the world began.  
'Twas not of murder strange, nor filthiness,  
Nor open wrong, nor secret wickedness;  
Nor legend tale, nor ancient poets fable,  
Nor such as parasites do tell at table.  
It was nor monstrous lie, nor pleasant fiction▪  
Nor of affirming, nor of contradiction.  
All writers, travelers, merchants are to seek,  
Yea john deviser never told the like.  
It was a tale of oaths abominable.  
God was the jest, and our dread Christ the fable.   

Epigr. 45.  
LAetus did in his mistress quarrel, die,  
Quintus was slain defending of the lie.  
Germanus in his friends defence did fall.  
Sakellus died striving for the wall.  
Merus did spend his life upon a jest.  
Sanmus lost it at a drunken feast.  
Merus at Sundays wake, revenged the wrong,  
Of his bull dog, until he lay along.  
What sayest thou now contemned religion?  
Vice hath her Saints and martyrs, thou hast none.   

Epigr. 46. In Porum.  
BItus desired Porus of his grace,  
That in his service he might have a place.  
He said he was of of honest occupation.  
He could no lie nor false dissimulation,  
He knew no wicked means to fill his purse,  
But Porus answered, he likes him the worse.   

Epigr. 47. De Hominis Ortu & sepultura.  
NAture which head long into life doth thring us  
with our feet forward to our grave doth bring us  
What is less ours, than this our borrowed breath,  
We stumble into life we go to death.   
FINIS.