tailors REVENGE OR THE RYMER WILLIAM FENNOR Firked, Feritted, and finely fetched over the Coals. WHEREIN His Rhyming Ragamuffin Rascality, without Partiality, or fear of principality, is Anagramatized, Anotomized, & Stigmatized. The occasion of which invective, is briefly set down in the Preface to the Reader. Revenge doth Gallop when it seems to creep, For though my wrong did wink, it did not sleep. PRINTED At Rotterdam, at the sign of the blue Bitch in Dog-Lane, and are to be sold, almost any where. AND Transported over sea in A Cod's belly, and cast up at Cuckold's Haven the last Springtide. 1615. To Any that can Read. BE thou either Friend or Foe or indiferent, all's one, Read, Laugh, like or dislike, all the care is taken: The chiefest cause why I wrote this, was on set purpose to please myself. Yet to show thee the meaning of this little Building, Imagine this Epistle to be the door, and if thou please come in and see what stuff the whole Frame is made off. Be it therefore known unto all men, that I john Taylor Waterman, did agree with William Fennor, (who Arrogantly and falsely entitles himself the King's majesties Rhyming Poet) to Answer me at a trial off Wit on the seventh of October last 1614 on the Hope stage on the Bankside, and the said Fennor Received of me ten shillings in earnest of his coming to meet me, whereupon I caused 1000 bills to be Printed, and douulged my name 1000 ways and more, giving my Friends and divers of my acquaintance notice of this Bear-garden banquet of dainty Conceits, and when the day came that the Play should have been performed, the house being filled with a great Audience, who had all spent their moneys extraordinarily: then this Companion for an Ass, Ran away & left me for a Fool, amongst thousands of critical Censurers: where I was ill thought of by my friends, scorned by my foes, and in conclusion, in a greater puzzle than the blind Bear in the midst of all her whip broth; Besides the some of twenty pounds in money, I lost my Reputation amongst many, and gained disgrace in stead of my better expectations. In Revenge of which wrongs done unto me by the said Rhyming Rascal, I have written this I●●ectiue against him, chiefly because the ill looking Hound doth not confess he hath injured me, nor hath not so much honesty as to bring or send me my money that he took for earnest of me: but on the contrary part, he Rails and Abuses me with his calumnious tongue, and scandalizet● me in all Companies where he hears me nominated. But in a word, Reader when thou hast read this that follows, I think thou wilt judge me clear ●f the many false Imputations that are laid upon me. So I leave thee to thy Considerations, and I proceed to my Exclamations. Thine as thou art mine, JOHN TAYLOR. WILLIAM FENNOR. Annagrama. NV VILLAINY For me OR For me NV VILLAINY. NV VILLAINY For me, Nue fresh and New, Or Form NV VILLAINY, Come Turk, come jew, Come who dares come, for I have found a Theme, That overflows with matter like a stream. And now stand clear my masters, ware your shins, For now to kick and fling my Muse begins. How fit his name is Annagrammatized, And how his Nature is Annotomized, 'Twould make a horse with laughing break his bridle But to the purpose, long delays are idle. tailors Revenge. TO WILLIAM FENNOR. COme Sirrah, Rascal, off your clothes, Sr. strip, For my Satyrrick whip shall make you skip: thou'dst better to have dealt with all the Devils, They could not plague thee with so many evils. Nay come man, never whine, or crouch or kneel, My heart cannot one jot of pity feel, I'have squeezed the Gall from out the Lernaean Snake With which, Revengeful Ink I mean to make, Which I with Aquafortis will Commix, Yblended with the loathsome Lake of styx, And with that Marrow-eating hateful Ink I'll make the● (more than any Ajax) stink, A Screech-owl's quill shall be my fatal pen, That shall emblaze thee basest slave of men. So that when as the purblind world shall see How vildley thou hast played the Rogue with me, They shall perceive I wronged them not ●or pelf And thou shalt (like a Rascal) hang thyself. What damned Villain would forswear & swears As thou didst, 'gainst my Challenge to appear, To Answer me at Hope, upon the stage And thereupon my word I did engage, And to the world did publish printed Bills With promise that we both would show our skills. And then your Rogue-ship durst not show your face But Ran away, and left me in disgrace. To thee, ten shillings I for earnest gau● To bind thee that thou shouldst not play the Kna●●. Cur, hadst thou no man's Credit to betray But mine, or couldst tho●●●nde no other way, To Shark, or Shift, or Coney-catch for money But to make me thy Ass, thy Fool, thy Coney? Could not thy Squire and thee, (a brace of Varlets) Ri●de, Fooled, & Piped, 'mongst pocky Whores & Harlots For twopences in some drunken Bawdy-booth To please thy Doxy-dells sweet stinking tooth, Whereas thou mightst (as thou hast often done) Some scraps and broken beer, for wages won, Which to maintain thy state had been some means Amongst thy fellows, Rascals, Rogues, & Queans. Thou scurvy squint-eyed brazen-faced Baboon Thou damned stigmatical fowl Pantaloonss, Thou Tavern, Alehouse Whoorehouse, Gig of time That for a Groat wilt Amongst Tinker's Rhyme. I'll hale from Hell Grim visaged Nemesis Whom I will skull o'er silver Thamesis, Which to & fro, shall still torment and touse thee And none but Runagates (like thee) shall howze thee. Thine own ●●gue (trumpet like) each where proclaime● Thyself a servant to my Sovereign james, When as thy service to the King is such As Atheists unto God, and scarce so much. It may be (Graceless) thou hast Graced been And in the Presence didst Admittance win, Where some stolen Rhymes, & some things of thine own To please the ears of Greatness thou hast shown. Which (at the first hath won thee some Applawse Although perhaps not worth 3 barley straws,) And you forsooth, must presently give out Amonnst your Kitchenstuff whoor-hedge bird rout, What Nobleman your scuruines did bring Into the Court, and how our Gracious King (As on a man most worthy to bestow it) Entitled you his Highness' Riming-Poet. How dares thy overweening saucy tongue Presume to do a Poet's name that wrong? How darest thou (being altogether vile) Attribute to thyself that Sacred style? Shall that Rare Art (which Gods and 〈◊〉 admire Polluted be by such a scurvy Squire? Shall Heau'n-bred Poesy that so long hath lasted With thy contagious breath be Bussard-blasted? Then Homer from thy tomb, with speed return And Maro Rouse thee from thy peaceful Urn. Brave Naso to the world again Retire, And Repossess that Rare Promethean fire Which erst inspired you, here you may behold The face of Impudence overbold, That dares put on that sweet Poetic name Which hath eternised your Immortal fame. Revenge you Muses, up, awake, awake, Or ever sink to the Lethean Lake. And you brave Modern Poets whose sweet lines All Heavenly earthly Harmony combines, Can you, O'can your Senses be stupidious And see yourselves abused thus perfidious. Oh if the Case were mine, as it is yours I would Rain vengeance in revengeful showers, Which furi●●s storm for ever should disperse And dash to pieces these base Grooms in verse. An Ass in Cloth of Gold is but an Ass, And Rhyming Rascals may for Poets pass, Amongst misjudging and illiterate Hinds But judgement knows to use them in their kinds. Myself knows how (sometimes) a verse to frame Yet dare I not put on a Poet's name, And I dare write with thee at any time For what thou darest in either Prose or Rhyme, For thou of Poesy art the very Scum Of Riff-Raff-Rubish wit the total sum, The loathsome Glanders of all base abuse The only Filch-line of each labouring Muse, The Knave, the Ass, the Coxcomb and the Fool The scorn of Poets, and true wits Csose-stoole. But all your Tavern and your Alehouse prate Is how your entertainment was in State, With this Great Lord and that embroidered Knight, With that fair Countess, and that Lady bright, Though where thou come thou shift & lie & lurch As welcome as a Dog into a Church. Dost think the King and's Courtiers doth not see And know that nothing good Can come from thee! Can Swine yield sweet perfumes, (can Swans breed Crows? Can flattering Rogues have but dissembling shows? Can health be hidden in the plague or pox? Can men take pride in fetters, bonds or stocks? And more unpossible than are all these It is that thou shouldst any wise man please, Except it be a flash, a spark, a spurt, Soon in, soon out, and then as sweet as dirt, Or like a candl's snuff, for pleasing scent Thou leav'st them deeply pleased with discontent, For thou (like stinking Fish) art grown so stale, A whole days Rhyme not worth a pot of Ale. But shortly I do hope to see brave sport, To have thee sound whipped from out the Court, For well I know my King will not allow His house to harbour such a Rogue as thou. I vow to G●d, my Inkhorn i'll not shut, Or sleep shall not mine eyes together put Before each night I write some scourging verse That in Revenge thy jadish heart shall pierce. For I whose creddt near before was tainted, Nor ever was with Cheating tricks acquainted, To be by thee thus basely used and crossed And in the world my Reputation lost, And all by thee, that meritest nought but banging For sure I think, thou'lt near be worth the hanging. Yet rather than thou shouldst a Hanging want I'd truss thee up for nought, were Hangmen scant, Nay I Would do it freely, and for nothing, And give thy Wife again my fee and clothing: Which Courtesy of mine, no doubt would move The creatures kindness to require my love. On her thou laidst the fault: thou saidst that she Did force thee basely Run away from me. Thou Dolt, thou Dunce, more blockish than a M●le, None but a wittal gives his wife the Rule. No 'twas thy Coward heart, full fraught with fear 'Twas nothing else that made thee not appear. Hadst thou the Conquest got, I had not cared So thou-unto thy word hadst had regard, Then sure the Players had not played a play But thou or I had borne away the day. And now to give the world a little taste Of the strange brunts and puzzells that I passed, I will not write a word shall be untrue That men may know, thou used me like a 〈◊〉 And that I do not Rail on the so fore But that my wrongs doth urge me to do more. The house was filled with neuter, Foes, and Freind● And every one their money frankly spends, But when I saw the day away did ●ade And thy looked for Appearance was not made, I then stepped out their angers to appease But they all Raging like tempestuous Seas: Cried out their expectations were defeated And how the wall were Coney catched & Cheated, Some laughed, some swore, some stared & stamped and cursed And in confused humours all out burst. I (as I could) did stand the desperate shock, And bid the brunt of many dangerous knock. For now the stinkards, in their Ireful wraths Bepelted me with Lome, with Stones, and Lath●, One madly fits like bottle- Ale, and hisses, Another throws a stone, and cause he misses He yawns and baules, and cries away, Away: Another cries out john begin the Play, I think this Baebell of confused Action Would sure have made thee stink with fears distraction, One swears and storms, another laughs & smiles, Another madly would pluck off the tiles. Some Runs to'the door to get again their Coin And some do shifts and some again purloin, One valiantly stepped out upon the Stage And would tear down the Hangings in his rage. (God grant he may have hanging at his end That with me for the hangings did contend,) Such clapping, hissing, swearing, stamping, smiling, Applauding, scorning, li●ing, and Reviling, Did more torment me then a Purgatory, Yet I (in scorn of windy pomp stage glory) Did stand it out, unconquered, unsubdude, Despite the Hydraheaded multitude. Now Goodman dog a halter catch your muzzle, Your not Appearance brought me in this puzzle, But I (to give the Audience some content) Began to Act what I before had meant: And first I played A maundering Roguish creature (a part thou could have Acted well by nature) Which act did pass, and please, and filled their jaweds With wrinkled laughter, and with good Aplawse. Then came the Players, and they played an Act Which greatly from my Action did detract. For 'tis not possible for any one To play against a Company alone, And such a Company (I'll boldly say) That better (nor the like) e'er played a Play. In brief, the Play my Action did Eclipse And in a manner sealed up both my lips. Suppose it were a black Cimmerian night And that some 12 or 16 Torches light Should make night seem an Artificial day, And them suppose these torches past away, Whilst dismal darkness strait resumes the place, Then after all comes in with glimmering pace A silly ●aper. How would that alone Show when the flaming torches all were gone? Eued so seemed I, amidst the Guarded troup Of Gold laced Actors, yet all could not droop My fixed mind, for where true Courage roots: The Proverb says, once over shoes or ● boots. 'Twere easier to subdue wild Bears or Boars, Or row to Highgate with a pair of Oars, Or to make thee an upright honest man (Which sure God will not, nor the Devil can) 'Twere lesser labour to blow down Paules-steeple Then to Appease, or please the raging people. The Play made me as sweet in their opinions As Tripes well fried in Tarr, or Eggs with Onions. ay, like a Bear unto the stake was tie, And what they said, or did, I must abide. A pox upon him for a Rogue says one And with that word he throws at me a stone, A second my estate doth seem to pity, And says my Action's good, my speeches witty. A third doth screw his chaps awry, and mew, His self conceited wisdom so to show. Thus doth the Third, the Fourth, the fifth and Six Most G●lliemawfrey-like their humours mix. Such Motley, Medley, Linsey Wolsey speeche● Would sure have made thee vilify thy breeches. What I endured, upon that earthly hell My tongue or pen cannot describe it well. And rather than I'll do the like once more I would be married to an Arrant Whore. And that's a Plague, I could wish well to thee For it would worse than a Hanging be. And let ●e say my best in my excuse, The Audience all were wronged with great abuse, Great cause they had to take it in offence, To come from their Affairs with such expense By Land and Water, and then at the Play So extraordinarily to pay, And when th● thing should be which they expected Then nothing to their like was effected. Their mirth to Madness, liking turned to Loathing For when all came to all, all came to nothing. Thus hast thou had a little slender taste Of my designs, and ●ow I was disgraced, For which I am beholding to you Sir, For had you come, there had been no such stir, Not cause the people longed thyself to see But that they looked thou shouldst disgraced be, To see us two the people did repair, And not to see or hear, or Play or Player. Why what a faithless Rascal art thou then Dar'st thou to look● upon me once ag●n, Which if thou dost, were't not for ●ear of Laws I'd stab my Dagger thorough both thy laws. But much I scorn my fingers should be fowl With beating such a durry 〈◊〉- Owl. But I'll Rib-roast thee, and bombast thee still With my enraged Muse, and angry Quill. And so I leave thy Carcase and Apparel Unto the Hangman, who shall end our quarrel, My full opinion of thee sure is this In no Church-book thy name Recorded is▪ But that thou wast begotten in some ditch Betwixt a Tinker and a 〈◊〉 Witch, And sure thy birth did equal thy begetting, I think thy Mother in the Sunshine sitting. Basking herself close to ●ome hedge of Thorn And so without a Midwife thou wa●t borne. And there the Sun with his Illustrious Light Screwed quite Awry the Windows of thy sight. Then afterwards the Ma●●o●e thought it meet To wrap thee up within some hedg-stolne sheet. And making thee his sweet unchristian pack Some six or seven year bore thee on her back, Instructing thee in the brave Canting tongue And how in peddlers French to sing a song. And Rhyme for Buttermilk for Curds and Whey And in a Barn at night thy bones to lay. This I do think of thee, I'll not say so▪ Thou know'st it best if it be so or no. This (by thine own Report) some few years since Thou Rym'st at Gr●●●send for so●e fourteen pence I'the street, from seaventeen people unrespected This Grand Collection, justly was Collected. As I do hope for bliss, I hate thee not For any Goods or Credit thou hast got In Court or City. But thy praise I'll sing If any way thou didst delight the King. So many tedious Cares are daily thrown Upon the Royall-head that wears a Crown, That into Action I would melt my sprite Thereby to give my Sovereign some delight. For such things I do love and wish thee well But that I think no such in thee doth dwell. Therefore I hate the●, as thou dost be●aue Thyself like to a cozening paltry Knave. What here I write, upon thee I'll make good And in the hazard I'll engage my blood. But as I said before, again I'll say I scorn on such a Rascal, hands to lay, For the old Proverb is Authentical (Who touches pitch shallbe defiled withal. Thou hast a pate can forge a Mint of lies, Else how is't possible thou couldst devise At once to flap me and the world i'th' mouth That thou wast Rid, East, West, and North, & South. That day thou shouldst have met me on the Stage Thou went'st three me ways at once on pilgrimage, Thou sentest ●e word tho'wast sent for to the Court, Thy wife said thou with speed must make resort To fetch her portion out of Warwickshire, And the day after 'twas my chance to hear, How thou for begging of a felons pardon Wast Rid down into Kent to fetch thy Guer●●●n. So that the Portion that thou went'st to fet Thou from the Gallows (thy best friend) didst get. But though thou rob the Gallows of his fee, It will (at last) for principal catch thee. Where (for thou Guld'st me at t●e Hope) I hope Thou wilt conclude thy Rogu'ry in a Rope, Three Trees, two Rampant, and the other Crossant, One halter Pendant, and a ladder Pass●●t, In a field Azure, (clouded like the sky) Because 'twixt Earth and Air I hope thou'●t d●e. These Arms for thee, my Muse hath Heralldized, And to exalt thee, them she hath devisd. Then when thou bidst the world thy last good-night Squi●t upward, and cry Gallows claim thy right. To whose protection, thy Estate I tender, And all thy Rights and Titles I surrender, Thy Carcase and thy Manners (that are ●uill) To Tyburn, Hangman, and (thy ●ire) the Devil. Thine as thou hast deserved, john Taylor. To the Reader. NOw honest Reader, (if thou be so) tell Have I not Ca●uas'd this same Rascal well? Me thinks I hear some say I am to bitter And if I were more mild they hold it fitter. Let such men Truly but conceive my wrong, And think the Case did to themselves belong. When such a F●llow with me shall agree And take my money for an earnest see, And make me Print a thousand Bills and more, And daily on the Posts to clap up store, For thousand Readers as they pass the way To see my name engaged to play a Play 'Gainst William Fennor my Antagonist, And then, fo● me each hour to persist (Upon his word) to study and to write And scarce in six weeks rest or day or night. And when the time is Come the play should be My opposite should Run away from me. And leave me to be made a wondering ●●ock A scorn, a Bye-word, for the world to mock. To make me lose my Credit, and my name To be or'c●ouded with perpetual shame. judge if this would not move a man to spleen● To be thus basely used as I have been. Thus to the Censure of the World I send This sharp invective, which my Anger penned. And as my wrong was public, so will I Revenged ●e upon him Publicly. And for him I have worse Rodd● in piss If he but dare to Write and Answer this. But if he durst no better play the Knave Then Answer me, he would not Go so bra●e. But yet here's one thing was almost forgot Which till this time my Muse remembered not, And sure it must his Fool● ship needs, molest, This hath been Read and Laughed at by the best, That when he dares but to the Court to come His entertainment will be like I●ck Drum. To my spiteful Foes. Like Guests unbid, you might have brought your stools For as you came, you went away like Fools. The purpose which my study did intend Was by no means any to offend, And therefore whatsoever that they be That enviously do Rail and snarl at me, I can no less do, but with word and pen Inform them that they are malicious men. 'Gainst no man in particular I write But generally to all that bear me spite. I pray for them, (to make their fury madder) God turn their hearts, or Hangman turn the ladder Which turning sure will either mend or end them To one of which my daily Prayers commend them. FINIS.