HUMOURS ORDINARY.  
Where a man may be very merry, and exceeding well used for his Sixpences  
AT LONDON, Printed for William Firebrand, and are to be sold at his shop in Popeshead Palace, right over against the Tavern door.   

TO THE GENTLEmen Readers.  


HVmours, is late crowned king of Caveeleres,  
Fantastique-follies, graced common favour:  
Civility, hath served out his years,  
And scorneth now to wait on good-behaviour.  
Gallants, like Richard the Usurper swagger.  
That had his hand continual on his dagger.   

Fashions is still consort with new ●ound shapes,  
And feedeth daily upon strange disguise:  
We show ourselves imitating Apes  
Of all the toys that Strangers heads▪ devise;  
For there's no habit of hell-hatched sin,  
That we delight not to be clothed in.   

Some swear, as though they stars from heaven could pu●●  
And all their speech is pointed with the stab,  
When all men know it is some coward gull,  
That is but Champion to a Shoreditch drab.  
Whose feather is his heads lightnes-proclaimer,  
Although he seem some mighty monster-tamer.    


Epicurism, cares not how he lives,  
But still pursueth brutish Appetite:  
Disdain, regards not what abuse he gives,  
Careless of wrongs, and unregarding right,  
Self-love, (they say) to self-conceit is wed,  
By which base match are ugly vices bred.   

Pride, revels like the roisting Prodigal,  
Stretching his credit that his purse strings crack,  
Until in some distressful gail he fall,  
Which wore of late a Lordship on his back:  
Where he till death must lie in pawn for debt:  
" Griefs night is near, when pleasures sun is set.   

Vaunting, hath got a mighty thundering voice,  
Looking that all men should applaud his sound,  
His deeds are singular, his words be choice;  
On earth his equal is not to be found,  
Thus virtue's hid with Folly's juggling mist,  
And he's no man that is no humorist.   
Samuel Rowlands.    

TO POETS.  


GOod honest Poets let me crave a boon,  
That you would write, I do not care how soon  
Against the bastard humours hourly bred,  
In every mad, brained wit-worne, giddy head:  
At such gross follies do not sit and wink,  
Belabour these same Gulls with pen and ink:  
You see some strive for fair hand-writing fame,  
As Peter Bales, his sign can prove the same,  
Gracing his credit with a golden Pen:  
I would have Poets prove more taller men:  
In perfect letters rested his contention,  
But yours consists in Wit's choice rare invention.  
Will you stand spending your inventions treasure,  
To teach Stage Parrots speak for penny pleasure?  
Whlle you yourselves like musick-sounding Lutes  
Fretted and strung, gain them their silken suits.  
Leave Cupid's cut, women's face-flattring praise,  
loves subject grows too threadbare nowadays.  
Change Venus Swans, to write of Vulcan's Geese,  
And you shall merit golden Pens a piece.    


MIrth pleaseth some, to others 'tis offence,  
Some wish ●'haue follies told; seem dislike that:  
Some commend plain conceits, some profound sense:  
And most would have, themselves they know not what.  
Then he that would please all, and himself too,  
Takes more in hand then he is like to do.     

SATIR.  

EVen like the chalking Vintners at the bar,  
That bids all welcome, what so e'er they are:  
So they pass quiet, in and out a door,  
And make no swaggering to discharge their score  
I Satir, stand at entrance of this book,  
And each kind guest may for my welcome look:  
All pleasant humours I invite come here,  
And with these Epigrams make them good cheer:  
Let Melancholy walk most dogged by,  
All sprightly Poets do the same defy,  
To feast with wit he never had good taste,  
I scorn to have him at our Table placed.  
Let him go plod for leases, buy and sell,  
And day by day his bags of money tell,  
And grudge to give himself a pint of Wine,  
Out arrant Ass, he is no guest of mine.  
But all mirth's friends, I do embrace most kind,  
Better I wish, pray take such as you find.    

EPIGRAMS.  

EPIG. 1.  

MOnsieur Domingo, is a skilful man,  
For much experience he hath lately got,  
Proving more Physic in an Alehouse Can  
Then may be found in any vintners pot,  
Beer he protests is sodden and refined,  
But this he speaks, being single penny lined.   

For when his purse is swollen but sixpence big,  
Why then he swears; now by the Lord I think  
All Beer in Europe is not worth afigge:  
A cup of Claret is the only drink,  
And thus his praise from Beer to Wine doth go,  
Even as his Purse in pence doth ebb and flow.    

EPIG. 2.  

Who seeks to please all men each way,  
And not himself offend:  
He may begin his work to day,  
But God knows when he'll end.    

EPIG. 3. BOREAS.  

Hung him base Gul, I'll stab him by the Lord,  
If he presume to speak but half a word:  
I'll paunch the villain with my Rapier's point,  
Or hue him with my Falchion joint by joint,  
Through both his checks my Ponniard he shall have,  
Or mincepie-like I'll mangle out the slave.  
Ask who I am, you whoreson fries-gown patch?  
Call me before the Constable, or watch?  
Cannot a Captain walk in the King's highway?  
Swoons, who the speak to? know ye villains, ha?  
You drunken peasants, runs your tongues on wheels?  
Long you to see your guts about your heels?  
Dost love me Tom? let go my Rapier then,  
Persuade me not from killing nine or ten:  
I care no more to kill them in bravado,  
Then for to drink a pipe of Trinidado:  
My mind to patience never will restore me,  
Until their blood do gush in streams before me.  
Thus doth Sir Lancelot in his drunken stagger,  
Swear, curse & rail, threaten, protest, & swagger:  
But being next day to sober answer brought,  
he's not the man can breed so base a thought.    

EPIG. 4.  

WHen Thraso meets his friend, he swears by God,  
Unto his chamber he shall welcome be:  
Not that he'll cloy him there with roast or sod,  
Such vulgar diet with Cook's shops agree:  
But he'll present most kind, exceeding frank,  
The best Tobacco that he ever drank.   

Such as himself did make a voyage for,  
And with his own hands gathered from the ground:  
All that which others fetch he doth abhor,  
His grew upon an Island never found.  
Oh rare compound, a dying horse to choke,  
Of English fire, and of India smoke.    

EPIG. 5.  

Diogenes' one day through Athens went,  
With burning Torch in Sunshine: his intent  
Was (as he said) some honest man to find:  
For such were rare to meet; or he was blind.  
One late, might have done well like light t'have got,  
That sought his wife, met her, and knew her not:  
But stay, cry mercy, she had on her mask,  
How could his eyes perform that spying task?  
'tis very true, 'twas hard for him to do  
By Sun and Torch, let him take Lantern too.    

EPIG. 6.  

ALas Delfridus keeps his bed God knows;  
Which is a sign his worship's very ill:  
His grief beyond the grounds of physic goes,  
No Doctor that comes near it with his skill:  
Yet doth he eat drink, talk, & sleep profound,  
Seeming to all men's judgements healthful sound.   

Then ges●e the cause he thus to bed is drawn,  
What, think you so; may such a hap procure it?  
Well, faith 'tis true, his hose is out at pawn,  
A breechlesse chance is come he must endure it:  
His Hose to Broker's jail committed are,  
His singular and only velvet pair.    

EPIG. 7.  

Speak Gentlemen, what shall we do to day▪  
Drink some brave health upon the dutch carouse,  
Or shall we to the Globe and see a play,  
Or visit Shoreditch for a bawdy-house?  
Let's call for Cards or Dice, and have a game;  
To sit thus idle, is both sin and shame.   

This speaks sir Revel, furnished out with fashion,  
From dish-crownd hat, unto the shoes square toe,  
That haunts a whorehouse but for recreation,  
Plays but at dice to coney-catch, or so;  
Drinks drunk in kindness, for good fellowship:  
Or to the play goes but some purse to nip.    

EPIG. 8.  

SIr Gall-Iade is a Horseman every day,  
His Boots, and Spurs, and legs do never part:  
He rides a horse as passing clean away,  
As any that goes Tiburne-ward by Cart:  
Yet honestly he pays for Hackneys hire:  
But hang them jades, he sells them when they tyre.   

He lives not like Diogenes on roots,  
But proves a mince-pie guest unto his Host:  
He scorns to walk in Paul's without his boots;  
And scores his diet on the Victuallers post:  
And when he knows not where to have his dinner,  
He fasts, and swears, a glutton is a sinner.    

EPIG. 9 Drude.  

THis Gentleman hath served long in France,  
And is returned filthy▪ full of French,  
In single combat being hurt by chance,  
As he was closely foiling at a Wench:  
Yet hot alarms he hath endured good store,  
But never in like pocky heat before.   

He had no sooner drawn and ventured nigh her,  
Intending only but to have a bout,  
When she his ●laske and touch box set on fire;  
And till this hour the burning is not out.  
judge▪ was not valour in this mortal wight,  
That with a spit-fire Serpent thus durst fight:    

EPIG. 10. In Meritricem.  

FAith Gentlemen you move me to offence,  
In coming to me with unchaste pretence.  
Have I the looks of a lascivious Dame,  
That you should deem me fit for wantoness game?  
I am not she will take lusts sin upon her;  
I'll rather die, then dim chaste glorious honour.  
Tempt not mine ears, an grace of Christ I mean  
To keep my honest reputation clean.  
My hearing lets no such lewd sound come in,  
My senses loath to surfeit on sweet sin.  
Reverse your mind, that goes from grace astray,  
And God forgive you, with my heart I pray.  
The gallant notes her words, observes her frowns  
Then draws his purse, & lets her view his crowns,  
Vowing, that if her kindness grant him pleasure,  
She shall be Mistress to command his treasure.  
The storms are calmed, the gust is overblown,  
And she replies with; Yours, or not her own.  
Desiring him to censure for the best,  
'Twas but her trick to try if men do jest:  
Her love is locked where he may pick the trunk.  
Let Singer judge, if this be not a punk.    

EPIG. 11.  

GAllus will have no Barber prune his beard,  
Yet is his chin clean shaven and unhaired:  
How comes he trimmed, you may ask me than:  
His wenches do it with their warming-pan.    

EPIG. 12.  

Politic Peter meets his friend a shore,  
That came from seas but newly other day:  
And gives him French embracements by the score;  
Then follows: Dick, hast made good voyage, say?  
But hearing Richard's shares be poor and sick:  
Peter has haste, and cannot drink with Dick.   

Well, than he meets an other Caveleere,  
Whom he salutes about the knees and thighs,  
Welcome sweet james, now by the Lord what cheer?  
Ne'er better Peter, we have got rich prize.  
Come, come (says Peter) even a welcome quart,  
For by my faith we'll drink before we part. Or thus,  
Faith we must drink, that's flat, before we part.    

EPIG. 13.  

SOme do account it golden luck,  
They may be widdow-sped, for muck:  
Boys on whose chins no down appears,  
Marry old Crones of threescore years:  
But they are fools to widows cleave,  
Let them take that which Maids do leave.    

EPIG. 14.  

FIne Philip comes into the Barber's shop,  
Where's nitty locks must suffer reformation:  
The chair and cushion entertain his slop:  
The Barber craves to know his worship's fashion:  
His will is, shaven, for his beard is thin,  
It was so lately banished from his chin.   

But shaving oft will help it, he doth hope,  
And therefore for the smooth-face cut he calls:  
Then fie, these clothes are washed with common soap,  
Why dost thou use such ordinary balls?  
I scorn this common trimming like a Boor:  
Yet with his heart he loves a common whore.    

EPIG. 15. Signieur Fantastic.  

I Scorn to meet an enemy in field,  
Except he be a soldier (by this light)  
I likewise scorn my reason for to yield;  
Yea further, I do well nigh scorn to fight.  
Moreover, I do scorn to be so vain,  
To draw my Rapier, and put up again.   

I ●●ke do scorn to walk without my man,  
Yea, and I scorn good morrow and good den:  
I also scorn to touch an Alehouse Can;  
Thereto I scorn an ordinary quean.  
Thus doth he scorn, disdainful, proud and grim,  
All but the Fool, only he scorns not him.    

EPIG. 16.  

AMorous Austin spends much balletting,  
In rhyming Letters, and love Sonnetting.  
She that loves him, his Ink-horn shall bepaint her,  
And with all Venus' titles he'll acquaint her:  
Vowing she is a perfect Angel right,  
When she by weight is many grains too light:  
Nay, all that do but touch her with the stone,  
Will be deposed, that Angel she is none.  
How can he prove her for an Angel then,  
That proves herself a devil, tempting men,  
And draweth many to the fiery pit,  
Where they are burned for their entering it?  
I know no cause wherefore he terms her so,  
Unless he means, she's one of them below,  
Where Lucifer chief Prince doth domineer:  
If she be such, then (good my hearts) stand clear,  
Come not within the compass of her flight,  
For such as do, are haunted with a sprite.  
This Angel is not noted by her wings,  
But by her tail, all full of pricks and stings.  
And know this lustblind lover's vain is led,  
To praise his devil in an Angel's stead.    

EPIG. 17.  

WHen Cavalero Rake hell is to rise  
Out of his bed, he caper's light and heady:  
Then wounds he swears, you arant whore he cries,  
Why what's the cause that breakfast is not ready?  
Can men feed like Chameleons on the air?  
This is the manner of his morning prayer.   

Well, he swears on until his breakfast comes;  
And then with teeth he falls to work apace,  
Leaving his boy a banquet all of crumbs.  
Dispatch you Rogue: my Rapier: that's his grace.  
So forth he walks, his stomach must go shift,  
To dine and sup abroad, by deed of gift.    

EPIG. 18.  

AWofull exclamation late I heard,  
Wherewith Tobacco takers may be feared.  
One at the point with pipe and leaf to part,  
Did vow Tobacco worse than Death's black dart:  
And proved it thus: you know (quoth he) my friends  
Death only stabs the heart, and so life ends:  
But this same poison, steeped India weed,  
In head, heart, lungs, doth soot & cobwebs breed.  
With that he gasped, & breathed out such a smoke.  
That all the standers by were like to choke.    

EPIG. 19  

CA●●s would gladly drink, but wants his purse,  
Nay, wanteth money, which is ten times worse  
For as he vows himself, he hath not seen  
In three days space the picture of the Queen.  
Yet if he meet a friend near Tavern sign,  
Strait he entreats him take a pint of wine:  
For he will give it, that he will; no nay.  
What will he give? the other leave to pay.  
He calleth: Boy, fill us the other quart;  
I will bestow it even with all my heart.  
Then doth he dive into his slops profound,  
Where not a poor Port cullis can be found.  
Mean while his friend discharges all the wine:  
Stay, stay (quoth he) or well, next shall be mine.    

EPIG. 20.  

FRancke in name, and Francke by nature,  
Francis is a most kind creature:  
Herself hath suffered many a fall,  
In striving how to pleasure all.    

EPIG. 21.  

SOto can prove, such as are drunk by noon,  
Are long lived men: the pox he can as soon.  
Nay, hear his reason ere you do condemn,  
And if you find it foolish, hiss and hem.  
He says; Good blood is even the life of man:  
I grant him that (say you) well, go-to then:  
More drink, the more good blood. O that's a lie:  
The more you drink, the sooner drunk, say I.  
Now he protests, you do him mighty wrong;  
Swearing a man in drink, is three men strong:  
And he will pawn his head against a penny,  
One right mad-drunk, will brawl & fight with any.  
Well, you reply; that argument is weak,  
How can a drunkard brawl, that cannot speak?  
Or how can he use weapon in his hand,  
Which cannot guide his feet to go or stand?  
Hark what an oath the drunken slave doth swear  
He is a man by that, a man may hear:  
And when you see him stagger, reel, and wink,  
He is a man and more; I by this drink.    

EPIG. 22.  

WHen signieur Sack & Sugar drink-drowned reels,  
He vows to hue the spurs from's fellows heels;  
When calling for a quart of Charnico,  
Into a loving league they present grow:  
Then instantly upon a cup or twain,  
Out Poniards goes, and to the stab again.  
Friends upon that, they drink, and so embrace:  
Strait bandy daggers at each others face.  
This is the humour of a mad-drunke fool,  
In Tavern pots that keeps his Fencing-school.    

EPIG. 23.  

Cornutus' was exceeding sick and ill,  
Pained as it seemed chief in his head:  
He called his friends, meaning to make his will;  
Who found him drunk, with hose & shoes a-bed.  
To whom he said. Oh good my Masters see,  
Drink with his darthath all bestabbed me.  
I here bequeath, if I do chance to die,  
To you kind friends, & boon companions all,  
A pound of good Tobacco, sweet and drio,  
To drink amongst you at my Emperal:  
Besides, a barrel of the best strong Beer,  
And Pickle-herrings, for to domineer.    

EPIG. 24.  

WE men, in many faults abound;  
But two in women can be found:  
The worst that from their sex proceeds,  
Is nought in words, and nought in deeds.    

EPIG. 25.  

BIdme go sleep? I scorn it with my heels,  
I know myself as good a man as thee.  
Let go mine arm I say, lead him that reels;  
I am a right good fellow: dost thou see?  
I know what longs to drinking; and I can  
Abuse myself as well as any man.   

I care no more for twenty hundred pound;  
(Before the Lord) then for a very straw:  
I'll fight with any he above the ground;  
Tut, tell not me what's what, I know the law.  
Rapier and dagger: hay, a kingly fight;  
I'll now try falls with any, by this light.    

EPIG. 26.  

BE hold, a most accomplished Cavaleere,  
That the world's Ape of fashions doth appear,  
Walking 〈…〉 his humours to disclose,  
In the French Doublet, and the German hose:  
The Muffs, Cloak, Spanish Hat, Toledo blade  
Italian ruff, a Shoe right Flemish made.  
Like Lord of misrule, where he comes he'll revel  
And ●● for w●g●is, with the lying'st devil.    

EPIG. 27.  

Ask Humours what a Feather he doth wear.  
It is his humour (by the Lord) he'll swear.  
Or what he doth with such a horse-tail lock:  
Or why upon a whore he spends his stock.  
He hath a 〈◊〉 doth determine so  
Why in the stop-thro●● fashion doth he go,  
With scarf about his neck, ●at without band?  
It is his humor● sweet Sir understand.  
What cause his p●●s● is so extreme distressed,  
That often times ●● scarcely pe●●●y blest?  
Only a humour. If you question why?  
His tongue is near unfurnished with a lie.  
It is his humour too he doth protest.  
Or why with Sergeants he is so oppressed,  
That like to ghosts they haunt him every day?  
A rascal humour doth not love to pay.  
Object, why boots and spurs are still in season?  
His humour answers; Humour is his reason.  
If you perceive his wits in wetting shrunk.  
It cometh of a humour to be drunk.  
When you be hold his looks pale, thin, and poor,  
Th'occasion is, his humour, and a whore.  
And every thing that he doth undertake,  
It is a vain, for senseless Humours sake.    

EPIG. 28.  

THree highway standers having croslesse curse,  
did greet my friend with, Sir give us your purse  
Though he were true man, they agreed in one,  
For purse and coin betwixt them four was none.    

EPIG. 29.  

A Gentlewoman of the dealing trade,  
Procured her own sweet picture to be made:  
Which being done, she from her word did slip,  
And would not pay full due for workmanship.  
The Painter swore, she near should have it so:  
She bade him keep it, and away did go.  
He chollcricke, and mighty discontent,  
Strait took his Pencil, and to work he went:  
Making the dog she held, a grim cat's face,  
And hung it in his shop, to her disgrace.  
some of her friends that saw it, to her went,  
In jesting manner, ask what she meant  
To have her picture hang where gazers swarm,  
Holding a filthy cat within her arm?  
She in a shameful heat in haste did high,  
The Painter to content and satisfy:  
Right glad to give a French Crown for his pain,  
To turn her Cat into a Dog again.    

EPIG. 30.  

WHen Tarlton clowned it in a pleasant vain,  
And with conceits did good opinions gain slop:  
Upon the stage, his merry humours shop,  
Clowns knew the Clown by his great clownish  
But now theyare gulled; for present fashion says,  
Dick Tarlton's part, gentlemen's breeches plays:  
In every street where any Gallant goes,  
The swaggering slop, is Tarlton's clownish hose.    

EPIG. 31. To Lutius.  

ONe newly practised in Astronomy,  
That never dealt in weather-wit before;  
Would scrape (for sooth) acquaintance of the sky,  
And by his Art, go knock at heaven door.  
Mean while a scholar in his study slips,  
And taught his wife skill in the moons eclipse.   

Next night that friend persuades him walk alone  
Into the field, to gather stars that fell,  
To mix them with Philosophers rare stone,  
That begets gold: he liked the motion well:  
And went to watch, where stars dropped very thin,  
But rain so showered, it wet his foole-case skin.    

EPIG. 32.  

WHat gallant's that whose oaths fly through mine ears?  
How like a lord of Pluto's court he swears:  
How brave in such a bawdy-house he fought;  
How rich his empty purse is outside wrought;  
How dutchman-like he swallows down his drink,  
How sweet he takes Tobacco till he stink:  
How lofty spirited he disdains a Boor,  
How faithful hearted he is to a ()  
How cock: tail proud he doth himself advance,  
How rare his spurs doering the morris-dance.  
Now I protest by Mistress Susan's fan.  
He and his boy, will make a proper man.    

EPIG. 33.  

LAugh good my Masters if you can intend it;  
For yonder comes a fool that will defend it.  
Saw you a verier Ass in all your life,  
That makes himself a packhorse to his wife?  
I would his nose where I could with were warm▪  
For carrying Pearl so pretty under's arm,  
Pearl, his wives dog, a pretty sweet-faced cur,  
That barks a nights at the least fart doth stir;  
Is now not well, his cold is scarcely broke,  
Therefore good husband wrap him in your cloak:  
And sweetheart, prithee help me to my mask;  
Hold Peatle but tender, for he Hath the saske:  
Here, take muff, and do you here good man,  
Now give me Pearl, and carry you my fan.  
Alack poor Pearl, the wretch is full of pain,  
Husband take Pearl, give me my fan again:  
See how he quakes; faith I am like to weep:  
Come to me pearl, my scarf good husband keep  
To be with me I know my Puppy loves;  
Why Pearl I say: Husband, take up my gloves.  
Thus goodman Idiot thinks himself an Earl,  
That he can please his wife, and carry Pearl:  
But others judge his state to be no higher:  
Then a dog's yeoman, or some pippin squire.    

EPIG. 34.  

WHat's he that sits and takes a nap,  
Faced like the North wind of a map:  
And sleeping, to the wind doth nod?  
'tis Bacchus cousin, belly-god.    

EPIG. 35.  

Severus is extreme in eloquence,  
In perfumed words, plunged over head & ears,  
He doth create rare phrase, but rarer sense,  
Fragments of Latin all about he bears.  
Unto his serving-man, alias his boy,  
He utters speech exceeding acquaint and coy.   

Diminutive, and my defective slave,  
Reach my corpse coverture immediately:  
My pleasure's pleasure is the same to have,  
IT ensconce my person from frigidity.  
His man believes all's Welch his Master spoke,  
Till he rails English; Rogue, go fetch my cloak.    

EPIG. 36.  

WHy should the Mercer's trade a satin suit,  
With Cook's grease be so wickedly pollute?  
The reason is, the scandal and defame  
Grew, that a greasy sloven wore the same.    

EPIG. 37.  

AN honest Vicker, and a kind consort,  
That to the Alehouse friendly would resort,  
To have a game at Tables now and than,  
Or drink his pot as soon as any man:  
As fair a gamester, and as free from brawl,  
As ever man shall need to play withal:  
Because his Hostess pledged him not carouse,  
Rashly in choler did for swear her house.  
Taking the glass, this was the oath he swore,  
Now by this drink, I'll near come hither more▪  
But mightily his Hostess did repent,  
For all her guests to the next Alehouse went,  
Following their Vickers steps in every thing.  
He led the parish even in a string.  
At length his ancient Hostess did complain  
She was undone, unless he came again:  
Desiring certain friends others and his,  
To use a policy, which should be this:  
Because with coming he should not for swear him;  
To save his oath, they on their backs might bear ●him.  
Of this good course the Vicker well did think,  
And so they always carried him to drink.    
FINIS.   


Your Scene is done, depart you Epigrams:  
Enter Goat-footed Satyrs, but like Rams:  
Come ●●●bly forth; Why stand you on delay?  
O-ho, the Music taning makes you stay.  
Well, frisk it out nimbly: you slaves begin,  
For now me thinks the fiddlers bands are in.    

SATYRS.  

SATYR. 1.  

WHo have we here? be hold him & be mute;  
Some mighty man I'll warrant by his suit.  
If all the Mercers in Cheapside show such,  
I'll give them leave to give me twice as much.  
I think the stuff is nameless he doth wear:  
But what so ere it be, it is huge gear:  
Mark but his gate, and give him then his due.  
Some swaggering fellow I may say to you.  
It seems Ambition in his big looks shrouds;  
Some Centaur sure, begotten of the clouds.  
Now a shame take the buzzard; is it he?  
I know the ruffian, now his face I see:  
On a more gull the Sun did never shine:  
How with a vengeance comes the fool so fine:  
Some Nobleman's cast suit is fallen unto him;  
For buying Hose and Doublet would undo him.  
But wots you now whither the buzzard walks?  
I, into Paul's forsooth, and there he talks  
Of foreign tumults, uttering his advice,  
And proving wars even like a game at dice:  
For this (says he) as every gamester knows,  
Where one side wins, the other side must lose.  
Next speech he uttors, is his stomachs care,  
Which ordinary yields the cheapest fare:  
Or if his purse be out of tune to pay,  
Then he remembers 'tis a fasting day:  
And then he talketh much against excess,  
Swearing all other Nations eat far less  
Than Englishmen: experience you may get  
In France and Spain: where he was never yet.  
With a score of figs, and half a pint of wine,  
Some four or five will very hugely dine.  
Me thinks this tale is very huge in sound,  
That half a pint should serve five to drink round,  
And twenty figs could feed them full and fat:  
But travelers may lie? who knows not that?  
Then why not he that travels in conceit  
From east to west, when he can get no meat?  
His journey is in Paul's in the back Isles,  
where's stomach counts each pace a hundred miles  
A tedious thing, though chance will have it such▪  
To travel so long baitlesse, sure 'tis much.  
Some other time, stumbling on wealthy chu●●es  
Worthy gulling: then he swaggers all in hu●●es,  
And tells them of a prize he was at taking,  
will be the ship-boy's children's children making:  
And that a mouse could find no room in hold,  
It was so pestered all with pearl and gold:  
Vowing to pawn his head, if it were tried,  
They had more Rubies than would pave Cheapside  
A thousand other gross and odious lies  
He dares avouch, to blind dull judgements eyes:  
Not caring what he speak, or what he swear,  
So he gain credit at his hearers care.  
Sometimes into the Royal Exchange he'll drop,  
Clad in the ruins of a Broker's shop:  
And there his tongue runs bias on affairs,  
No talk but of commodities and wares▪  
And what great wealth he looks for ●rie wind,  
Fron God knows where, the place is hard to find.  
If news be hearkened for, than he prevails,  
Setting his min● a work to coin false tales.  
His tongs-end is be●ipt with forged chat,  
Vt●ing rare lies to be admired at:  
he'll tell you of a tree that he doth know,  
Upon the which Rapiers and Daggers grow,  
As good as Fleetstreet hath in any shop,  
Which being ripe, down into scabbards drop.  
He hath a very piece of that same chair,  
In which Caesar was stabbed: Is it not rare?  
He with his feet upon the stones did tread,  
That Satan brought, & bad Christ make them bread.  
His wondrous travels challenge such renown,  
That Sir john Maundivell is quite put down.  
Men without heads, and Pigmy's hand-bredth high,  
Those with one leg that on their backs do lie,  
And do the weather's injury disdain,  
Making their legs a penthouse for the rain,  
Are tut, and tush: not any thing et all.  
His knowledge knows, what no man's notice shall  
This is a mate unmeet for every groom,  
And where he comes, peace, give his lying room.  
He saw a Hollander▪ in Middleborow,  
As he was s●ashing of a brown laofe thorough,  
Whereto the hast of hunger had inclined him,  
Cut himself through, & two that stood behind him.  
Besides, he saw a fellow put to death,  
Can drink a whole Beer barrel at a breath.  
Oh this is he that will say any thing,  
That to himself will any profit bring.  
'Gainst whosoe'er he doth speak he cares not:  
For what is it that such a villain dares not?  
And though in conscience he doth not deny,  
The All-commander saith, Thou shalt not lie.  
Yet he will answer, (careless of soul's state)  
Truth-telling is a thing obtaineth hate.    

SATYR. 2.  

A Man may tell his friend his fault in kindness:  
To wink at folly, is a foolish blindness.  
God save you Sir; saluteth with a grace,  
One he could wish never to see his face.  
But doth not he use mere dissimulation,  
That's inside hate, and outside salutation?  
Yes as I take it, yet his answer says,  
Fashions and customs use it now adays.  
A Gentleman perhaps may chance to meet  
His Living-griper face to face in street:  
And though his looks are odious unto sight,  
Yet will he do him the French congès right,  
And in his heart wish him as low as hell,  
When in his words he's glad to see him well.  
Then being thus, a man may soon suppose,  
There is, God save you Sir, sometimes twixt foes.  
Oh sir▪ why that's as true as you are here,  
With one example I will make it clear:  
And far to fetch the same I will not go,  
But into Houns-ditch to the Broker's row:  
Or any place where that trade doth remain,  
Whether at Holborn Conduit, or Long lane:  
If thither you vouchsafe to turn your eye,  
And see the pawns that under forfaitlye,  
Which are forth coming sir, and safe enough,  
Says goodman Broker, in his new print ruff:  
He will notstand too strictly on a day,  
Encouraging the party to delay,  
With all good words the kindest may be spoke,  
He turns the Gentleman out of his cloak:  
And yet between them both at every meeting,  
God save you Sir, is their familiar greeting.  
This is much kindness sure, I pray commend him,  
With great good words he highly doth defend him:  
It is a favour at a pinch indeed,  
A pinching friendship, and a pinching deed.  
The slave may wear his suits of satin so,  
And like a man of reputation go,  
When all he hath in house, or on his back,  
It is his own by forfeitures shipwreck.  
See you the brooch that long in's hat hath been?  
It may be there, it cost him not a pin:  
His sundry sorts of divers men's attire,  
He wears them cheap, even at his own desire.  
Shame overtake the peasant for his pain,  
That he should pray on losses, to his gain:  
In drawing wardrobes under his subjection,  
Being a knave in manners and complexion:  
jump like to Usury, his nearest kin,  
That wears a money bag under his chin:  
A bunch that doth resemble such a shape,  
And haired like a Paris-garden Ape,  
Foaming about the chaps like some wild Boor▪  
As swart and tawny as an Indian Moor:  
With narrow brow, and Squirrel eyes, he showe●▪  
His faces chiefest ornament is nose,  
Full furnished with many a Claret stain,  
As large as any Codpiece of a Dane.  
Embossed curious, every eye doth judge:  
His jacket faced with Moth-eaten Budge:  
To which a pair of satin sleeves he wears,  
Wherein two pound of grease about he bears.  
His spectacles do in a copper case,  
Hang dangling about his pissing place:  
His breeches and his hose, and all the rest,  
Are suitable: his gown (I mean his hest)  
Is full of threads, entitled right thread bare;  
But wool thereon is wondrous scant and rare:  
The welting hath him in no charges stood,  
Being the ruins of a cast French-hood.  
Excess is sinful, and he doth defy it,  
A sparing wherson in attire and diet,  
Only excess is lawful in his chest,  
For there he makes a golden Angel's nest;  
And vows no farther to be found a lender,  
Then that most precious metal doth engender:  
Begetting daily more and more increase:  
His money's slave till wretched life surcease.  
This is the jew allied very near  
Unto the Broker: for they both do bear  
Undoubted testimonies of their kin:  
A brace of Rascals in a league of sin.  
Two filthy Curs that will on no man fawn,  
Before they taste the sweetness of his pawn.  
And then the slaves will be as kind forsooth,  
Not as Kind-hart, in drawing out a tooth:  
For he doth ease the patiented of his pain,  
But they disease the borrower of his gain.  
Yet neither of them use extremity,  
They can be villains even of charity.  
To lend our Brother it is meet and fit,  
Give him rostmeate and beat him with the spit  
Vserie sure is requisite and good,  
And so is Brokeage, rightly understood:  
But soft a little, what is he says so?  
One of the twain (upon my life) I know.    

satire. 3.  

OH, let the Gentlewoman have the wall,  
I know her well, 'tis Mistress, what d'ye call.  
It would be she both by her Mask and Fan:  
And yet it should not, by her serving-man;  
For if mine eyes do not mistake the fool,  
He is the Usher of some Dancing School:  
The reason why I do him such suppose,  
Is this; Me thinks he danceth as he goes.  
An active fellow, though he be but poor,  
Either to vault upon a horse, or etc.  
See you the huge bum Dagger at his back,  
To which no Hilt nor Iron he doth lack,  
Oh with that blade he kepees the queans in awe  
Bravely be hacked, like a twohand Saw,  
Stamps on the ground, and biteth both his thoms  
Unless he be comaunder where he comes  
You damned whores, where are you? quick come here,  
Dry this Tobacco, Fill a dozen of beer:  
Will you be brife? or long you to be banged?  
Hold take this Match, go light it and be hanged.  
Where stay these whores when Gent. do call?  
here's no attendance (by the Lord) at all.  
Then down the stairs the pots in rage he throws  
And in a damned vain of swearing grows:  
For he will challenge any under heaven,  
To swear with him, and give him six at seven.  
Oh, he is an accomplished Gentleman,  
And many rare conceited knacks he can:  
Which yield to him a greater store of gain,  
Than juggling Kings, hay Pass ledger demain:  
His wit's his living: one of acquaint device,  
For Bowling-allies. Cockpits, Cards, or Dice,  
To those exploits he ever stands prepared:  
A Villain excellent at a Bum card.  
The Knave of Clubs he any time can burn,  
And find him in his bosom, for his turn.  
Tut, he hath Cards for any kind of game,  
Primero, Saunt, or what soever name:  
Make him but dealer, all his fellows swears  
If you do find good dealing, take his ears.  
But come to Dice: why that's his only trade,  
Michael Mumchaunce his own invention made.  
He hath a stock whereon his living stays,  
And they are ●ullams and Bardquarter-trayes:  
His Langrets, with his High men, and his low,  
Are ready what his pleasure is to throw.  
His stopped Dice with Quicksilver never miss.  
He calls for come on five, and there it is:  
Or else he'll have it with five and a reach,  
Although it cost his neck the Halter stretch.  
Besides all this same kind of cheating art,  
The Gentleman hath some good other part,  
well seen in Magic and Astrology,  
Flinging a figuer wondrous handsomely:  
Which if it doth not miss, it sure doth hit.  
Of troth the man hath great store of small wit:  
And note him whethersoever he goes,  
His book of Characters is in his hose.  
His dinner he will not presume to take,  
Ere he ask counsel of Almanac.  
he'll find if one prove false unto his wife,  
Only with Ox blood and a rusty knife.  
He can transform himself unto an Ass,  
Show you the Devil in a Crystal glass:  
The Devil say you? why I, is that such wonder:  
Being consorts, they will not be a sunder.  
Alchemy in his brains so sure doth settle,  
He can make gold of any copper ket'le;  
With in a three weeks space, or such a thing,  
Riches upon the whole world he could bring,  
But in his one purse one shall hardly spy it,  
Witness his Hostess, for a twelvemonth's diet:  
Who would be glad of gold or silver neither.  
But swears by chalk, & post, she can get neither.  
More, he will teach any to gain there love,  
As thus (says he) Take me a turtle Dove,  
And in an Oven let her lie and bake  
So dry that you may powder of her make:  
Which being put into a cup of wine,  
The wench that drinks it will to love incline  
And shall not sleep in quiet in her bed  
Till she be eased of her maidenhead.  
This is p●obatum, and it hath been tried,  
Or else the Cunning-man cunningly lied:  
It may be so, a lie is not so strange,  
Perhaps he spoke it when the Moon did change?  
And thereupon no doubt th'occasion sprung,  
Unconstant Luna overruled his tongue.  
Astronomers that traffic with the sky,  
By common censure sometime meet the lie:  
Although indeed their blame is not so much.  
When Stars and Planets fail, and keep not touch,  
And so this fellow with his large profession,  
That ends his trial in a fair digression:  
Philosophers bequeathed him their stone,  
To make gold with, yet can his purse hold none.    

SATYR. 4.  

Mellflwius sweet Rose-watred eloquence,  
Thou that hast hunted Barbarism hence,  
And taught the Goodman C●bbin at his Blow,  
To be as eloquent as Tully now:  
Who nominates his bread and cheese a name,  
(That doth untruss the nature of the same)  
His stomach stair. How dye like the phrase?  
Are Ploughmen simple fellows nowadays?  
Not so my Masters: what means Singer then  
And Pope the Clown, to speak so Boorish, when  
They counterfeit the Clowns upon the Stage?  
Since Country fellows grow in this same age  
To be so acquaint in their new printed speech,  
That cloth will now compare with Velvet breech  
Let him discourse even where and when he dare,  
Talk near so Inkhorn, learnedly, and rare,  
Swear, Cloth breech is a peasant (by the Lord)  
Threaten to draw his (wrath-venger) his sword:  
Tush, Cloth-breech doth deride him with a laugh,  
And lets him see Bone-baster, that's his staff:  
Then tells him, brother, friend, or so forth, hear ye,  
'tis not your Knitting-needle makes me fear ye.  
If to ascension you are so declined,  
I have a restitution in my mind:  
For though your beard do stand so fine mustated,  
Perhaps your nose may be transfisticated.  
Man, I dare challenge thee to throw the sledge,  
To jump or leap over a ditch or hedge,  
To wrestle, play at stool ball, or to run,  
To pitch the bar, or to shoot off a gun.  
To play at loggats, nine-holes, or ten pings,  
To try it out at football by the shins:  
At tichtacke, Irish, noddy, maw, and ruff,  
At hot-cockles, leapfrog, or blindman-buffe,  
To drink half pots, or deal at the whole can,  
To play at base, or pen and inkhorn, sir Than:  
To dance the morris, play at barley break,  
At all exploits a man can think or speak,  
At shove-groat, venture point, or cross and pile,  
At beshrew him that's last at yonder style,  
At leaping over a midsummer bone-fier,  
Or at the drawing Dun out of the mire:  
At any of these, or all these presently,  
Wag but your finger, I am for you, I.  
I scorn (that am a youngster of our town)  
To let a Bow-bell cockney put me down.  
This is a gallant far beyond a gull,  
For very valour fills his pockets full.  
wit showers upon him wisdoms rain in plenty,  
For he'll be hanged, if any man find twenty  
In all their parish, whatsoe'er they be,  
Can show a head so politic as he.  
It was his father's luck of late to die  
Vntestate; he about the Legacy  
To London came, enquiring all about,  
How he might find a Civil-villaine out:  
Being unto a Civill-lawyer sent,  
Pray sit (quoth he) ace you the man I meant,  
That have a certain kind of occupation,  
About dead men that leave things out of fashion:  
Death hath done that which t'answer he's not able  
My father he is died detestable:  
I being his eldest heir, he did prefer  
Me sir, to be his executioner:  
And very briefly my request to finish,  
Pray how may I by law, his goods diminish:  
Was this a Clown? tell true, or was a none?  
You make fat Clowns, if such as he be one:  
A man may swear, if he were urged to it,  
Foolisher fellows, have not so much wit.  
Oh such as he, are even the only men,  
Love-letters in a Milkmaid's praise to pen:  
Lines that will work the curftest sullen shrew,  
To love a man whether she will or no.  
Being most wondrous pathetical,  
To make Sisse out a cry in love withal:  
He scorns that master schoolmaster should think  
He wants his aid in half a pen of ink:  
All that he doth, it cometh every whit.  
From Nature's dry-fat, his own mother wit. Or thus:  
Thou honey suckle of the hawthorn hedge,  
Vouchsafe in Cupid's cup my heart to pledge:  
My hearts dear blood sweet Sisse, is thy carouse  
Worth all the Ale in gammer Gubbins house:  
I say no more, affairs call me away,  
My father's horse for provender doth stay.  
Be thou the Lady Cresset-light to me,  
Sir Trollololle I will prove to thee.  
Written in haste: farewell my cowslip sweet,  
Pray let's a Sunday at the Alehouse meet.    

SATYR. 5.  

'tIs a bad world, the common speech doth go,  
And he complains that helps to make it so:  
Yet every man th'imputed crime would shun,  
Hypocrisy with a fine thread is spun.  
Each strives to show the very best in seeming,  
Honest enough, if honest in esteeming,  
Praise waits upon him now with much renown,  
That wraps up vices under virtues gown:  
Commending with good words religious deeds,  
To help the poor, supply our neighbours needs:  
Do no man wrong, give every man his own,  
Be friend to all, and enemy to none,  
Have charity, avoid contentious strife.  
Oft he speaks thus, that ●ere did good in's life.  
Division hath an ore in every boat,  
In's neighbours eye he quickly spies a ●oate:  
But the great beam that's noted in his own,  
He let's remain, and never thinks thereon.  
Some do report he bears about a sack,  
Half hanging forwards, half behind at's back,  
And▪ his own faults, (quite out of sight & mind)  
He casts into the part that hangs behind:  
But other men's he putteth in before,  
And into them he looketh evermore.  
Contempt comes very near to th'other's vain,  
He hates all good deserts with proud disdain.  
Rashness is his continual walking mate,  
Costly apparelled, lofty in his gate:  
Up to the ears in double ruffs and starch,  
God bless your eyesight when you see him march  
Statutes and laws, he dare presume to break,  
Against superiors cares not what he speak.  
It is his humours recreation fits,  
To beat Constables, and resist all writs:  
Swearing, the ripest wits are childish young,  
Unless they gain instructions from his tongue.  
There's nothing done amongst the very best,  
But he'll deride it with some bitter jest.  
It's meat and drink unto him always, when  
He may be censuring of other men.  
If a man do but toward a Tavern look,  
He is a drunkard he'll swear on a book:  
Or if one part a fray of good intention,  
He is a quarreler, and loves dissension.  
Those that with silence vain discourses break▪  
Are proud fantastickes, that disdain to speak.  
Such as speak soberly with wisdoms leisure,  
Are fools, that in affected speech take pleasure.  
If he hear any that reproveth vice,  
He says, there's none but hypocrites so nice.  
No honest woman that can pass along,  
But must endure some scandal from his tongue.  
She deals cross blows her husband never feels,  
This Gentlewoman weareth capering heels.  
There minces Mall, to see what youth will like her,  
Her eyes do bear her witness she's a striker.  
Wonders, a wench new dipped in beauties blaze▪  
She is a maid, as maids go nowadays.  
And thus Contempt makes choicest recreation,  
In holding every one in detestation:  
His common gate is of the jetting size,  
He hath a pair ofever-staring eyes,  
And looks a man so hungry in the face,  
As he would eat him up, and near say grace.  
A little low, crowned hat he always wears,  
And fore-horse like therein a feather bears:  
Goodly curled locks, but surely 'tis great pity,  
For want of kembing▪ they are beastly nitty.  
His doublet is a cut cast satin one,  
He scorns to buy new now, that near bought none  
Spotted in divers places with pure fat:  
Known for a right tall trencherman by that.  
His breeches that came to him by befrending,  
Are desperate like himself, & quite past mending  
He takes a common course to go untrust,  
Except his shirt's a washing; then he must  
Go woollward for the time: he scorns it he,  
That worth two shirts his Laundress should him see.  
The weapons that his humours do afford,  
Is bum-dagger, and basket-hilted sword:  
And these in every Bawdy house are drawn  
Twice in a day, unless they be at pawn.  
If any fall together by the ears,  
To field cries he, why zounds (to field) he swears  
Show yourselves men: hay, slash it out with blows  
Let one make tother's gut garter his hose:  
Make steel and iron umpires to the fray,  
You shall have me go with, to see fair play▪  
Let me alone, for I will have a care  
To see that one do kill the other fair,  
This is Contempt, that's every one's disdainer,  
The strife pursuer, and the peace refrainer:  
Hates thunderbolt, damned: Murders larum-bell,  
A near dear kinsman to the devil of hell:  
And he whom Satan to his humour brings,  
Is th'only man for all detested things.    

SATYR. 6.  

TOm's no good fellow, nor no honest man:  
Hang him, he would not pledge Ralph half a can:  
But if a friend may speak as he doth think,  
Will is a right good fellow by this drink.  
Oh William, William, thou'rt as kind a youth  
As ever I was drunk with, that's the truth.  
Tom is no more like thee then chalk's like cheese,  
To pledge a health, o● to drink up-se freeze:  
Fill him his beaker, he will never flinch,  
To give a full quart pot the empty pinch.  
he'll look unto your water well enough,  
And hath an eye that no man leaves a snuff:  
A pox of piece-meal drinking (William says)  
Play it away, we'll have no stops and stays:  
Blown drink is odious, what man can digest it?  
No faithful drunkard but he doth detest it.  
I hate half this; out with it, and an end,  
He is a buzzard will notpledge his friend,  
But stands as though his drinks malt-sacke were closed  
With, Here'st'yee Sir Against you are disposed?  
How say my friend, and may I be so bold?  
Blowing on's beer like broth, to make it cold,  
Keeping the full glass till it stand and sour  
Drinking but half a mile an hour:  
Unworthy to make one, or gain a place,  
Where boon companions gauge the pots apace.  
A man's a man, and therewithal an end,  
Good fellowship was bred and borne to spend:  
No man ere saw a pound of sorrow yet,  
Can be aloud to pay an ounce of debt.  
We may be here to day, and gone to morrow,  
Call me for six pots more, come on, hang sorrow,  
Tut, lack an other day, why 'tis all one,  
When we are dead, than all the world is gone.  
Begin to me good Ned, what, hast gone right?  
Is it the same that tickled me last night?  
We gave the Brewer's diet-drink a wipe,  
Brave Malt-Tobacco in a quart pot pipe:  
It nettled me, and did my brains inspire:  
I have forsworn your drinking smoke and fire:  
Out upon Cane and leaf Tobacco smell,  
Devils take home your drink, keep it in hell.  
Carouse in Canon Trinidado smoke,  
Drink healths to one an other till you choke,  
And let the Indians pledge you till they sweat,  
Give me the element that drowneth heat:  
Strong sodden water is a virtuous thing,  
It makes one swear and swagger like a King,  
And hath more hidden virtue than you think:  
For I'll maintain, good liquour's meat and drink:  
Nay, I'll go further with you, for in troth  
It is as good as meat, and drink, and cloth:  
For he that is in Maltmans' Hall enrolled,  
Cares not a point for hunger nor for cold.  
If he be cold, he drinketh till he sweat,  
If he be hot, he drinks to lay the heat:  
So that how ere it be, cold or hot,  
To precious use he doth apply the pot:  
And will approve it phisically sound,  
If it be drunk upon the Danish round,  
Or taken with a pickle-herring or two,  
As Flemings at Saint Katherine's use to do:  
Which fish hath virtue, eaten salt and raw,  
To pull drink to it, even as leate doth straw,  
Oh 'tis a very whetstone to the brain,  
A March beer shower puts down A prill rain;  
It makes a man active to leap and spring,  
To dance and vault, to carowle and to sing.  
For all exploits it doth a man enable,  
T'outleape men's heads, and caper o'er the table:  
To burn sack with a candle till he reels,  
And then to trip up his companions heels:  
To sing like the great Organ-pipe in Paul's,  
And censure all men under his controls:  
Against all comers ready to maintain,  
That deepest wit is in a drunken brain.  
I marry is it, that it is he knows it,  
And by this drink, at all times will depose it.  
He says, that day is to a minute shrunk,  
In which he makes not some good fellow drunk:  
As for nine worthies on his Hosts wall,  
He knows three worthy drunkards pass them all  
The first of them in many a Tavern tried,  
At last subdued by Aquavitae, died.  
His second Worthiness date was brought to fine,  
Feasting with Oysters and brave Rhenish wine.  
The third, whom divers Dutch men held full dear  
Was stabbed by pickled herrings & strong beer:  
Well, happy is the man doth rightly know,  
The virtue of three cups of Charnico,  
Being taken fasting, th'only cure for fleam,  
It worketh wonders on the brain, extreme  
A pottle of wine at morning, or at night,  
Drunk with an apple, is employed right,  
To rinse the Liner, and to purify  
A dead sick heart from all infirmity.    

satire. 7  

Lived the Philosopher Heraclitus  
In Troynovant, as once in Ephesus.  
Were not Democrites live, s-date full done,  
But he with us an's glass some sand to run?  
How would the first, dry-weepe his watery eyes?  
And th'other's laughter echo through the skies?  
For while they in this world were resident,  
Heraclitus for virtues banishment,  
Performed a pensive tear complaining part:  
Democrites, he laughed even from his heart,  
Spending his time in a continual jest,  
To see base Vice so highly in request.  
Weep Virtues want, and give sad sighs to boot:  
Vice rides on horsedacke, Virtue goes on foot:  
Yet laugh again as fast on th'others side,  
To see so vile a scum preferred to ride.  
But what wilt help to fie on flinty sin?  
'Twill not be mollifide as it hath been:  
'tis far more highly favoured ●hen before,  
Sin's no beggar standing at the door,  
That by his patches doth his want dispute,  
But a right welcome Sir, for's costly suit:  
And mask about with such an ostentation:  
World says; Vice-haters loves no recreation.  
You shall have smooth-faced neat dissimulation,  
A true What lack ye? by his occupation:  
Will (I in truth, yes truly) show you ware,  
All London cannot with his stuff compare:  
Nay, if you match it (go from him to any)  
Take his for nothing, pay him not a penny.  
At this, my simple honest Countryman  
Takes Truth and Truly for a Puritan;  
And dares in's conscience swear he loves no lying  
But that they deal for, he gives him the buying.  
To let him have a pebsworth he is willing,  
Yet for a groats worth makes him pay a shilling;  
Gives goodman Trollop one thing for an other,  
And says, he'll use him as he were his brother:  
But while his ears with brother's terms he feeds,  
He proveth but a Cousin in his deeds:  
Brotherhood once in kindred bore the sway,  
But that dates out, and Cozenage hath the day.  
The foregoed ages that are spent and done,  
The old time passed, that calls time present, Son;  
●aw better years, & more plain meaning hours  
Then presently, or future following ours.  
The world is nought, and now upon the ending,  
Grows worse & worse, & farthest off from mending  
Seven grand devils bred and borne in hell,  
Are graced like Monarches on the earth to dwell:  
where they command the world's whole globy round  
Leaving poor Virtuous life no dwelling ground.  
Pride is the first, and he began with Eve,  
Whose cognisance still's worn on women's sleeve  
He fits the humours of them in their kind,  
With every month, new liveries to their mind:  
A busk, a mask, a fan, a monstrous ruff,  
A bolster for their buttocks, and such stuff:  
More light & toyish than the wind blown chaff  
As though they meant to make the devil laugh.  
The next that marcheth is the root of evil,  
Called Covetousness, a greedy rascal devil:  
To fill old iron barred chests, he rakes,  
great rents for little Cottages he takes:  
Hordeth up corn, in hope to have a year,  
Fit for hit cut-thro at humour to sell dear.  
Then is there a notorious hawdy fiend,  
named Lechery, who all his time doth spend,  
In two wheeled Coach, and basin occupation  
Making a vaulting house his recreation,  
Unto his door in summer hourly marches,  
And every Term look for him in the Arches.  
Enuie's the fourth, a Devil dogged sprighted;  
In others harms he chief is delighted:  
His heart against all charity is steeled,  
His frowns are all challenges to the field:  
Though nothing cross him, yet he murmurs ever  
He langhes at somemans' loss, or else laughs never.  
Wrath is the next, that swaggers, fights, & swears,  
In Fleetstreet bravely at if by the ears:  
Parboiled in rage, peppered in heat ofire,  
Hot livered, and as choleric as fire.  
Victuallers and Sergeants are beholden to him,  
Till halter destiny, of life undo him.  
Six lubberly got belled devil great,  
Is Gluttony, swollen with excess of meat:  
His belliship contains th'insatiate gut,  
Paunched liquor proof, an'twere a Malmsie-but,  
Dulled with drink: this is his usual phrase,  
Yet one quart, and a morsel more, he says.  
The last is Sloth, a lazy devilish cur,  
So trust in Idleness, he scarce can stur:  
Lumpish and heavy thoughts, of Satan's giving,  
That rather begs, then labours for his living.  
These seven are fiends come forth of Hell's dark  
On earth seducing souls, misguiding men.    
FINIS.