HUMOURS LOOKING Glass.  
LONDON, Imprinted by Ed. Allde for William Ferebrand and are to be sold at his Shop in the popes-head Palace, right over against the Taverne-dore. 1608.   

To his very Loving Friend-Master George Lee.  
ESteemed friend, I pray thee take it kind,  
That outward action bears an inward mind,  
What objects here these papers do deliver,  
Bestow the viewing of them for the giver.  
I make thee a partaker of strange sights,  
Drawn antic works of humours vain delights.  
A mirror of the mad conceited shapes,  
Of this our ages giddy-headed apes,  
These fashion mongers, self besotted men  
Of kindred to the fowl that wore my pen,  
Are at an hours warning to appear,  
And muster in six sheets of Paper here.  
And this is all at this time I bestow,  
To evidence a greater love I owe.  
Yours SAMVEL rowland's.   

Reader.  
AS many antic faces pass,  
From Barber's chair unto his glass,  
There to behold their kind of trim,  
And how they are reformed by him,  
Or at Exchange where Merchants greet,  
Confusion of the tongues do meet,  
As English, French, Italian, Dutch,  
Spanish, and Scot'sh, with divers such.  
So from the Press these papers come  
To show the humorous shapes of some.  
Hear are such faces good and bad,  
As in a Barber's shop are had,  
And here are tongues of divers kinds,  
According to the speakers minds.  
Behold their fashions, hear their voice,  
And let discretion make thy choice.  
SAMUEL rowland's.   

Epigram.  
SOme man that to contention is inclined,  
With any thing he sees, a fault will find,  
As, that is not so good, the same's amiss,  
I have no great affection unto this.  
Now I protest I do not like the same,  
This must be mended, that deserveth blame,  
It were far better such a thing were out,  
This is obscure, and that's as full of doubt.  
And much ado, and many words are spent  
In finding out the path that humours went,  
And for direction to that Idle way  
Only a busy tongue bears all the sway.  
The dish that Aesop did commend for best,  
Is now a days in wonderful request,  
But if you find fault on a certain ground,  
we'll fall to mending when the fault is found,   

Epigram.  
Pray by your leave, make mounsieur humours room  
That oft hath walked about Duke Humphries tomb  
And sat amongst the Knights to see a play,  
And gone in's suit of Satin every day,  
And had his hat display abushie plume,  
And's very beard deliver forth perfume.  
But when was this'aske Friar Bacon's head  
That answered Time is past, O time is fled▪  
Satin and silk was pawned long ago,  
And now in canvas, no knight can him know.  
His former state, in dark oblivion steeps,  
Only Paul's Gallery, that walk he keeps.   

Epigram.  
Cross not my humour, with an ill placed word,  
For if thou dost, behold my fatal sword:  
Dost see my countenance begin look red?  
Let that foretell there's fury in my head.  
A little discontent will quickly heat it.  
Touch not my stake, thou wert as good to eat it,  
These damned dice, how cursed they devour:  
I lost some half score pound in half an hour,  
A bowl of wine, sirrah: you villain, fill:  
Who draws it Rascal? call me hither Will.  
You Rogue, what hast to Supper for my diet?  
Tell'st me of Butcher's meat? knave I defy it.  
I'll have a banquet to invite an Earl,  
A Phoenix boiled in broth distilled in Pearl.  
Hold dry this lease, a candle quickly bring,  
I'll take one pipe to bed, none other thing.  
Thus with Tobacco he will sup to night:  
Flesh-meate is heavy, and his purse is light.   

Epigram.  
TWo Gentlemen of hot and fiery spirit,  
took boat, and went up Westward to go fight  
Embarked both, for Wens-worth they set sail,  
And there arriving with a happy gail,  
The watermen discharged for their fare,  
Then to be parted, thus their minds declare.  
Pray Oars (said they) stay here and come not nigh,  
We go to fight a little, but here by.  
The watermen with staves did follow then,  
And cried, oh hold your hands good Gentlemen,  
You know the danger of the law, forbear:  
So they put weapons up and fell to swear.   

Epigram.  
ONe of these Cuccold-making Queans  
did graft her husband's head:  
who armed with anger, steel and horn  
would kill him stained his bed.  
And challenged him unto the field,  
Vowing to have his life,  
Where being met, sirrah (quoth he,)  
I do suspect my Wife  
Is scarce so honest as she should,  
You make of her some use:  
Indeed said he I love her well,  
I'll frame no false excuse.  
O! d'ye confess? by heavens (quoth he)  
Hadst thou dem'de thy guilt,  
This blade had gone into thy guts,  
Even to the very Hilt.   

Epigram.  
OCeasion late was ministered for one to try his friend,  
Ten pounds he did entreat him that of all love he would  
His case was an accursed case, no comfort to be found, (lend  
Unless he friendly drew his purse & blest him with ten pound  
He did protest he had it not, making a solemn vow,  
He wanted means & money both, to do him pleasure now.  
Then sir (quoth he) you know I have a Gelding I love well,  
Necessity it hath no law, I must my Gelding sell,  
I have been offered twelve for him, with ten i'll be content,  
Well I will try a friend (said he,) it was his chest he meant.  
So fectched the money presently, other sees Angels shine  
Now God a-mercy horse (quoth he) thy credit's more than mine.   

Epigram.  

DIce diving deep into a Ruffians purse,  
Leaving it nothing worth but strings and leather:  
He presently did fall to swear and curse,  
That's life and money he would lose together,  
took of his hat, and swore, let me but see  
What Rogue dares say this same is black to me?   

Another lost, and he did money lack,  
And thus his fury in a heat revives:  
Where is that Rogue denies his hat is black?  
I'll fight with him, had he ten thousand lives.  
Oh sir (quoth he) in troth you come too late,  
Choler is past, my anger's out of date.    

Epigram.  
A Kind of London-walker in a boot,  
(Not George a Horseback, but a Gerge a foot,)  
On every day you meet him through the year,  
Fot's boots and spurs, a horseman doth appear.  
Was met with, by an odd conceited stranger,  
W●● friendly told him that he walked in danger.  
For Sir (in kindness no way to offend you)  
There is a warrant forth to apprehend you.  
Th'offence they say, you riding through thee street,  
Have killed a Child, under your Horse's feet.  
Sir I protest (quoth he) they do me wrong,  
I have not backed a horse, God knows how long,  
What slaves be these, they have me false belied?  
I'll prove this twelvemonth I did never ride.   

Epigram.  
WHat feathered fowl is this that doth approach  
As if it were an Estredge in a Coach?  
Three yards of feather round about her hat,  
And in her hand a babble like to that:  
As full of Birds attire, as Owl, or Goose,  
And like unto her gown, herself seems lose.  
Crispinus ' ye mercy Lady, lewdness are you there?  
Light feathered stuff befits you best to wear.   

A deaf ear, in a just cause.  
A Poor man came unto a judge & show'd his wronged state,  
Entreating him for jesus sake to be compassionate,  
The wrongs were great he did sustain, he had no help at all  
The judge sat still as if the man had spoken to the wall.  
With that came two rude fellows in, to have a matter tried  
About an Ass, that one had let the other for to ride:  
Which Ass the owner found in field, as he by chance past  
And he that hired him a sleep did in the shadow lie.  
For which he would be satisfied, his beast was but to ride:  
And for the shadow of his Ass, he would be paid beside.  
Great raging words and damned oaths,  
these two asse-wrangles swore,  
When presently the judge start up, that seemed a sleep before  
And heard the follies willingly of these two sottish men,  
But bad the poor man come again, he had no leisure them.   

Epigram.  
A jolly fellow Essex borne and bred,  
A Farmer's Son, his Father being dead,  
T'expel his grief and melancholy passions,  
Had vowed himself to travel and see fashions.  
His great minds object was no trifling toy,  
But to put down the wandering Prince of Troy.  
London's discovery first he doth decide,  
His man must be his Pilot and his guide.  
Three miles he had not past, there he must sit:  
He asked if he were not near London yet?  
His man replies good Sir yourself bestir,  
For we have yet to go six times as far.  
Alas I had rather stay at home and dig,  
I had not thought the world was half so big.  
Thus this great worthy comes back (thoewith strife)  
He never was foe far in all his life.  
None of the seven worthies: on his behalf,  
Say, was not he a worthy▪ Essex Calf?   

The Humours that haunt a Wife.  
A Gentleman a very friend of mine,  
Hath a young wife and she is monstrous fine,  
she's of the new fantastic humour right,  
In her attire an angel of the light.  
Is she an Angel? I: it may be well,  
Not of the light, she is a light Angel.  
Forsooth his door must suffer alteration,  
To entertain her mighty huge Bom-fashion,  
A hood's to base, a hat which she doth male,  
With bravest feathers in the Ostrich tail.  
She scorns to tread our former proud wives traces.  
That put their glory in their on fair faces,  
In her conceit it is not fair enough,  
She must reform it with her painter's stuff,  
And she is never merry at the heart,  
Till she be got into her leathern Cart.  
Some half amile the Coachman guides the reins,  
Then home again, birladie she takes pains.  
My friend seeing what humours haunt a wife,  
If he were lose would lead a single life.   

A poor Man's policy.  
NExt I will tell you of a poor man's trick,  
Which he did practise with a politic,  
This poor man had a Cow 'twas all his stock,  
Which on the Commons fed: where Cattles flock,  
The other had a steer a wanton Beast,  
Which he did turn to feed amongst the rest.  
Which in process although I know not how,  
The rich man's Ox did gore the poor man's Cow.  
The poor man hereat vexed waxed sad,  
For it is all the living that he had,  
And he must lose his living for a song,  
Alas he knew not how to right his wrong.  
He knew his enemy had points of law,  
To save his purse, fill his devouring maw,  
Yet thought the poor man how so it betid,  
I'll make him give right sentence on my side.  
Without delay unto the Man he goes,  
And unto him this feigned tale doth gloze,  
(Quoth he) my Cow which with your Ox did feed,  
Hath killed your Ox and I make known the deed.  
Why (quoth my Politic) thou shouldst have helped it rather,  
Thou shalt pay for him if thou wert my father.  
The course of law in no wise must be stayed,  
Lest I an evil precedent be made.  
O Sir (quoth h●) I cry you mercy now,  
I did mistake, your Ox hath gored my Cow:  
Convict by reason he began to brawl,  
But was content to let his action fall.  
As why? (quoth he) thou look'st unto her well,  
Can I prevent the mischief that befell?  
I have more weighty causes now to try,  
Might o'ercomes right without a reason why.   

Epigram.  
ONe of the damned crew that lives by drink,  
And by Tobacco's stillified stink,  
Met with a Country man that dwelled at Hull:  
Thought he this pesant's fit to be my Gull.  
His first salute like to the French man's wipe,  
Words of encounter, please you take a pipe?  
The Country man amazed at this rabble,  
knew not his mind yet would be conformable.  
Well, in a petty Alehouse they ensconce  
His Gull must learn to drink Tobacco once.  
Indeed his purpose was to make a jest,  
How with Tobacco he the peasant dressed.  
He takes a whiff, with art into his head,  
The other standeth still astonished.  
Till all his senses he doth back revoake,  
Sees it ascend much like Saint Katherins smoke.  
But this indeed made him the more admire,  
He saw the smoke: thought he his head's a fire,  
And to increase his fear he thought poor soul,  
His scarlet nose had been a fiery coal.  
Which circled round with smoke, seemed to him  
Like to some rotten brand that burneth dim.  
But to show wisdom in a desperate case,  
He threw a Can of beer into his face,  
And like a man some fury did inspire,  
Ran out out of doors for help to quench the fire.  
The Ruffian throws away his Trinidado,  
Out comes huge oaths and then his short poynado,  
But then the Beer so troubled his eyes,  
The countryman was gone ere he could rise,  
A fire to dry him he doth now require,  
Rather than water for to quench his fire.   

Epigram.  
COme my brave gallant come, uncase, uncase,  
Near shall oblivion your great acts deface,  
He has been there where never man came yet,  
An unknown country, I, i'll warrant it,  
Whence he could Ballast a good ship in hold,  
With Rubies, Saphiers, Diamonds and gold,  
Great Orient Pearls esteemed no more than moats,  
Sold by the peck as chandlers measure oats,  
I marvel than we have no trade from thence:  
O 'tis too far it will not bear expense,  
'Twere far indeed, a good way from our main,  
If charges eat up such excessive gain,  
Well he can show you some of Lybian gravel,  
O that there were another world to travel,  
I heard him swear that he ('twas in his mirth)  
Had been in all the corners of the earth.  
Let all his wonders be together stitched,  
He threw the bar that great Alcides pitched:  
But he that saw the Ocean's farthest strands,  
You pose him if you ask where Dover stands.  
He has been under ground and hell did see,  
Aeneas near durst go so far as he.  
For he has gone through Pluto's Regiment,  
Saw how the Fiends do Liars there torment.  
And how they did in hells damnation fry,  
But who would think the traveler would lie?  
To dine with Pluto he was made to tarry,  
As kindly used as at his Ordinary.  
Hogsheads of wine drawn out into a Tub,  
Where he did drink handsmooth with Belzebub,  
And Proserpina gave him a golden bow,  
'tis in his chest he cannot show it now.   

Of one that cozened the Cutpurse.  
ONe told a Drover that believed it not,  
What booties at the plays the Cutpurse got,  
But if 'ttwere so my Drovers wit was quick,  
He vowed to serve the Cutpurse a new trick.  
Next day unto the play, policy hied,  
A bag of forty shillings by his side,  
Which holding fast he taketh up his stand,  
If strings be cut his purse is in his hand.  
A fine conceited Cutpurse spying this,  
Looked for no more, the for shillings his,  
Whilst my fine Politic gazed about,  
The Cutpurse featly took the bottom out.  
And cuts the strings, good fool go make a jest,  
This Dismal day thy purse was fairly blest.  
Hold fast good Noddy 'tis good to dread the worse,  
Your money's gone, I pray you keep your purse.  
The play is done and forth the fool doth go,  
Being glad that he cozened the Cutpurse so.  
He thought to iybe how he the Cutpurse dressed,  
And memorise it for a famous jest.  
But putting in his hand it tan quite throw  
Dashed the conceit, he'll never speak on't now,  
You that to plays have suc● delight to go,  
The Cutpurse cares not, still deceive him so.   

A drunken fray.  
DIcke met with Tom in faith it was their lot,  
Two honest Drunkars must go drink a pot,  
'twas but a pot, or say a little more,  
Or say a pot tha●'s filled eight times over.  
But being drunk, and met well with the lose,  
They drink to healths devoutly on their knees,  
Dick drink, to Hall, to pledge him Tom relects,  
And scorns to do it for some odd respects  
Wilt thou nor pledge him thawed a gill, a Scab,  
Wert with my manhood thou deservest a stab,  
But 'tis no matter drink another bout,  
we'll intot'n field and there we'll try it out.  
Let's go (says Tom) no longer by this hand,  
Nay stay (quoth Dick (lets see if we can stand.  
Then forth they go after the drunken pace,  
Which God he knows was with a reeling grace,  
Tom made his bargain, thus with bonny Dick  
If it should chance my foot or so should sl●p,  
How wouldst thou use me or after what Size,  
Wouldst bare me shorter or wouldst let me rise.  
Nay God forbidden our quarrels not so great,  
To kill thee on advantage in my heat.  
Tush we'll not fight for any hate or so,  
But for mere love that each to other owe.  
And for thy learning lo I'll show a trick,  
No sooner spoke the word but down comes Dick,  
Well now (quoth Tom) thy life hangs on my sword,  
If I were down how wouldst thou keep thy word?  
Why with these hilts I'd brain thee at a blow,  
Faith in my humour cut thy throat, or so,  
But Tom he scorn to kill his conquered foe,  
Lets Dick arise, and to't again they go.  
Dick throws down Tom or rather Tom did fall,  
My hilts (quoth Dick) shall brain thee like a maul,  
Is't so (quoth Tom) good faith what remedy,  
The Tower of Babell's fallen and so am I  
But Dick proceeds to give the fatal wound,  
It missed his throat, but run into the ground.  
But he supposing that the man was slain,  
Strait fled his country, ship himself for Spain,  
Whilst valiant Thomas died drunken deep,  
Forgot his danger and fell fast a sleep.   

Epigram.  
WHat's he that stars as if he were affright;  
The fellow sure hath seen some dreadful sprite  
Mass rightly guest, why sure I did divine,  
he's haunted with a Spirit feminine.  
In plain terms thus, the Spirit that I mean,  
His martial wife that notable cursed quean,  
No other weapons but her nails or fist,  
Poor patiented Idiot he dares not resit,  
His neighbour once would borrow but his knife,  
Good neighbour stay (quoth he) i'll ask my wife.  
Once came he home inspired in the head,  
He found his neighbour and his wife a bed,  
Yet durst not stir, but hide him in a hole,  
He feared to displease his wife poor soul.  
But why should he so dread and fear her hate,  
Since she had given him armour for his pate?  
Next day forsooth he doth his neighbour meet,  
Whom with stern rage thus furiously doth greet,  
Villain i'll slit thy nose, out comes his knife,  
Sirrah (quoth he) go to I'll tell your wife.  
Appalled at which terror, meekly said  
Retire good knife my fury is allayed.   

Proteus.  
TIme serving humour thou wrie-faced Ape,  
That canst transform thyself to any shape:  
Come good Proteus come away a pace,  
We long to see thy mumping antic face.  
This is the fellow that lives by his wit,  
A cogging knave and fawning Parrasit,  
He has behaviour for the greatest port,  
And he has humours for the rascal sort,  
He has been great with Lords and high estates,  
They could not live without his rare conceits,  
He was associate for the bravest spirits,  
His gallant carriage such favour merits.  
Yet to a Ruiffin humour for the stews,  
A right grand Captain of the damned crews,  
With whom his humour always is unstable  
Mad, melancholy, drunk and variable.  
Hat without band like cutting Dick he goes,  
Renowned for his new invented oaths.  
Some times like a Civilian, 'tis strange  
At twelve a clock he must unto the Change,  
Where being thought a Merchant to the eye,  
He tells strange news his humour is to lie.  
Some Damask coat the eflect thereof must hear,  
Invites him home and there he gets good cheer.  
But how is't now such brave renowned wits,  
We are ragged robes with such huge gasily slits,  
Faith thus a ragged humour he hath got  
Whole garments for the Summer are too hot.  
Thus you may censure gently if you please,  
He wears such garments only for his ease.  
Or thus his credit will no longer wave.  
For all men know him for a prating knave.   

Epigram.  
A Scholar newly entered marriage life,  
Following his study did offend his wife,  
Because when she his company expected,  
By bookish business she was still neglected:  
Coming unto his study, Lord (quoth she)  
Can papers cause you love them more than me:   

Epigram.  
I would I were transformed into a Book  
That your affection might upon me look,  
But in my wish, withal be it decreed,  
I would be such a Book you love to reed,  
Husband (quoth she) which books form: should I take,  
Marry (said he) were best an Almanac,  
The reason wherefore I do wish thee so,  
Is, ●uery year we have a new you know.   

Epigram.  
Sirrah, come hither boy, take view of me,  
My Lady I am purposed to go see:  
What doth my feather flourish with a grace,  
And this same do blese●e become my ●ace,  
How desc●nt doth this doubl●●● fo●m● appear  
(I would I had my suit in houns-●●itch here)  
Do not my spurs pronounce a 〈◊〉 sound?  
Does not my hole circumference profound?  
Sir th●se are well, but there is one thing ill,  
Your Tailor with a sheet of paper b●ll,  
Vows he'll be paid and Servants he had feed,  
Which ●a●●e your commng forth to do thy deed:  
Boy godamercy 〈◊〉 my Lady stay,  
I'll see no counter for her ●a●e to day.   

Much a do about choosing a wife.  

AWiddower would have a wife were old,  
Past charge of children to prevent expense  
Her chests and bags crammed till they crack with gold,  
And she unto her grave post quickly hence,  
But if all this were fitting to his mind,  
Where is his lease of life to stay behind?   

A Bachelor would have wife were wise,  
Fair, Rich and Young, amaiden for his bed,  
Not proud, nor chutlish but of faut les size,  
A country housewife, in the City bred.  
But he's a fool and long in vain hath staid,  
He should be speak her, there's none ready made    

The taming of a wild Youth.  
OF late a dear and loving friend of mine,  
That all his time a Gallantyouth had been,  
From mirth to melancholy did decline,  
Looking exceeding pale, lean, poor, and thin,  
I asked the cause he brought me through the street,  
Unto his house, and there he let me see,  
A woman proper, fair, wise and discreet  
And said behold, here's that hath tamed me,  
Hath this (quoth I,) can such a wife do so?  
Lord how is he tamed then, that hath a shrew:   

A strange sighted traveler.  
AN honest Country fool being gentle bred,  
Was by an odd conceited humour led,  
To travel and some English fashions see,  
With such strange sights as here at London be.  
Stuffing his purse with a good golden some,  
This wandering knight did to the City come,  
And there a servingman he entertains,  
An honester in Newgate not remains.  
He show'd his Master sights to him most strange,  
Great tall Paul's Steeple and the royal-exchange:  
The Boss at Billingsgate and London stone,  
And at White Hall the monstrous great Whale's bone,  
Brought him to the bankside where Bears do dwell  
And unto Shoreditch where the whores keep hell,  
show'd him the Lions, Giants in Guildhall,  
King Lud at Ludgate the Baboons and all,  
At length his man, on all he had did pray,  
show'd him a thievish trick and ran away,  
The traveler turned home exceeding civil,  
And swore in London he had seen the Devil.   

Three kind of Couckoldes, One, And None  

FIrst there's a Cuckold called One and None,  
Which fool, from fortune hath received such  
He hath a wife for beauty stands alone,  
Graced with good carriage, and most sweet behaviour favour  
Nature so bounteous hath her gifts extended.  
From head to foot there's nothing to be mended.   

Besides, she is as perfect chaste, as fair,  
But being married to a jealous ass,  
He vows she horns him, for he feels a pair  
Have been a growing ever since last grass,  
No contrary persuasions he'll endure,  
But's wife is fair and he's a Cuckold sure.    

The second.  
None, and One.  

THe second hath a wife that loves the game,  
And plays the secret cunning whore at plaisure.  
But in her husband's sight she's wondrous tame,  
Which makes him vow, he hath Ulysses treasure.  
she'll wish all whores were hanged, with weeping tears  
Yet she herself a whore's clothes daily wears▪   

Her husband's friends report how's wife doth gull him  
Wi●h false deceitful and dissembling show  
And that by both his horns a man may pull him,  
To such a goodly length they daily grow,  
He says they wrong her, and he swears they lie,  
His wife is chaste, and in that mind he'll die.    

The Third, One, and One.  

THe third is he that knows women are weak,  
And therefore they are daily apt to fall,  
Words of unkindness their kind hearts may break,  
They are but flesh and therefore sinners all,  
His wife is not the first hath trod a wry,  
Amongst his neighbours he as bad can spy.   

What can he help it if his wife do ill,  
But take it as his cross and be content,  
For quietness he lets her have her will,  
When she is old perhaps she will repent,  
Let every one amend their one bad life,  
theyare knaves and queans that meddle with his wife.   
FINIS.