NOSCE TE, (HUMOURS.) BY RICHARD TURNER. Disce dediscere. printer's device formerly of John Wolfe; framed device of a fleur-de-lis with two cherubs and I. W. (McKerrow 294) LONDON Printed by I. W. for jefferey Chorlton, and are to be sold at his shop, at the great North door of Paul's. 1607. TO THE READER. DIgnare indignis (Reader) soft, I might as well have called you gentle, per Antiphrasin, you'll say but you were not best be prating, lest I make Cato claw you by the Coxcomb, with ne ad concilium, etc. But Apology, define plura, do you hear (predicte) here's asixepenie purchase for you; I think you may call it Epigrams, or a book of this thing and that thing, and just nothing, if you have better skill, you may scoff at it, or you may look and laugh at it, you may buy it and bear it, and then you may either read it, or hear it, or else take it and tear it, or if you can do nothing else, clip your tail twixt your legs, like a weary sheep, and cry mew but may be, your stomach hath priest your belly to the three penny Ordinary, take this word in your pocket, for 'tis not there I assure you. Farewell. Richard Turner. TO THE CARPING Misinterpretor. CEase gualde-backt-guilt, my inscious lines to mince, The world will know you are rubbed if once you wince, They hem within their seeming critic wall, Particularly none, generally all; 'mongst which if you have chancht to catch a prick Cry Wee-hie if you will, but do not kick. NOSCE TE, (Humours.) NOsce te, (Humours) fantastic, know thyself, The ape of fashions, Nature's very Elf, Here learn, abhor, reform thy infamous rumours, Platter faced Proteus (Nosce te, Humours.) Meet swearing Samme; and say you are glad he's well, Even so is he by you; he is by hell: Ask him if he a pint of wine will take, He'll give it you; aye by the Stygian lake: Tell him 'tis spoke his dealings are but evil, His humour scorneth rumour, aye by the devil. This his detested swearing, each man loathes, His oaths are his, God grant, he not his oaths. SEarch from the orient to the occident To find some unknowne-land by accident: Wring Prester john by the beard, draw Cham byth' heels, Tie such as Hector to our chariot wheels, Pish, what were this? now none are famed but drinkers; Let's to a tavern, be as drunk as Tinkers, Drag up some whores into the room by'th'haire, Swinged up the Vintner, throw the Drawer down stairs, Rouse out with such a horrid thunder, score. Make Errabus amazed, the Welkin roar, Fall out, scold, fight, and after all these quarrels, Suck out the very entrails of the barrels: O had we never ended Spanish jars, Then these had never been our English wars. OTher men's joys chiefly from those joise descend, Yet (cruel joise) my joys in joise have end, My only joys, by only joise are crossed, joise is my love, in whom my joys are lost. Hark how he blows, puff, he'll cassear you all Gallants, alane, give gormandize the ●all: O Buttocks! bigger than a pair of butts, The very paragon of grease and guts, Attorney, I cry you mercy, now I'll swear 'tis he hath made tuftaffatie so dear, A sixeyearde iacket's nothing, for i'll tell ye Th'ers a huge circuit 'bout his boundless belly; Ale by whole runs, the vastiles conceals, 'tis strange, no tripewife for his garbage deals, Yet all's not lost by feeding gormandize, Then weep not (Bess) for when thy husband dies, Do thou but seethe the entrails of the chuff, Thou art worth at least five mark in kitchen stuff; Yet soft, i'll make a Proclamation, That cloth and stuff, may join in supplication; And pray (O mutton pasties) goose and pig, That bellies may break before they grow so big. BLessed Creator) turn thy cursed creature, The best by name's become the badst by nature Grace, now give over that name, be Grace no more O Grace is graceless, for Grace is a whore. SHine hollow Caves, and thou celestial round, Drop down harmonious accents from thy spheres, Let heaven and earth with merry noise resound, The Flag hangs out to day they'll bait the bears, For how to spend my time I could not tell, Cause all the whores of Lambeth, be in Bridewell. Thus idle Libertines consume their lives, In some detested sin, some horrid vice, Ravishing maids, dishonesting men's wives. At taverns, bawdy houses, plays, whores, dice, They that have liberty, do thus abuse it, Cursed, nay all most damned, are they that use it. MVmme chancing Tom to his eternal grace, The dicing-heraldes did create size ace, This Tom in gamling was (forsooth) so nice No trick escaped his knowledge on the dice: Bard cater trays, fullomes, high cuts, low cuts Nay Tom did know the dices very guts, But what availeth skill, if luck be bad, Ingratum fatum, Tom lost all he had. When lo to dire revenge Thomas is drawn, And put his cloak (despite the dice) to pawn, But valiant dice better at blows then brawl Conquered at arms, cloak, doublet, hose and all, Quoth furious Tom, is this my merit's meed? A plague upon't, here's bare— luck indeed Then calls all villains, rogues, panders and whores, And in his summer's suit, swings out of doors, Catchpoles, and brewer's horses, give the wall, Or breechles Thomas swears he'll bang you all. MEndoso's turned, what? swaggerer, by this light, I am sure he is not, beleaueed he is, he'll fight, he's rich and valiant, as a man may be, London affords none properer than he, See how he laughs, nay, prithee do not score it, I am sure 'tis true, I heard him when he swore it, Trust me you wrong the Gentleman, nay fie, 'tis a lest indeed, Mendoso swear and lie. A Gentleman, why? he hath been once or twice Why, I hope to God a Serving man may rise, Why name you Ambidexter 'mongst the rest, Did he follow him? 'tis true, he did in jest, The other morning to digest his can, To cut Tobacco, he swore he missed his man, Disgraced to filled himself, in a great rage Can curse the Earl, that needs would have his Page, He had a Page, he lies that dare say nay, Three days he served him, ere he run away: He's turned I assure you, lies as well as many, Bids God renounce his soul better than any: Cries (villains) I have learned a new Carouse, No man comes near me in a Bawdy house: When others pawned their land, he spent no ground, Because he had none: but almost three hundred pound. He spent indeed a little which he got, Question not how, perchance it was his lot. AS my young Mistress walked by her gate, A Beggar asked her worship for a penny, She prising worship at the lowest rate, Bade him be packing for he got not any: Another kneeling, came with (good your honour) And 'twas no marvel, for she wore a Hood: She hearing such a title put upon her, I warrant (quoth she) his breeding hath been good: Out came her purse, and money, read how much, A penny faith, her honours bounty was such. TOuch not my Rapier, for by my rapiers hilt, If thou defile my rapier with thy sight, Then by the radiance of my rapiers gilded, My rapier sends you to eternal night: But see it quoth a? know slave, my rapier scorns The vile beholding of so base a groom. What will you faith? come, come, I'll cut your corns: Die (villain) die, or quickly leave the room, I'm not so simple, quoth the country clown, To run away for every Mouse that cries. Chau been the lustiest man in all our town: Quoth Hotspur (O my spleen) by jove he dies. Plaindealing Tom, esteeming that course best, Drew a huge Alehouse dagger from his back: Put up, quoth Hotspur, canst abide no jest, In conscience I should beat thee like a sack: Rustic was ready, Hotspur 'gan to fawn, Faith he'd have beat him, if he had not drawn. Obtain of me my living, lands and life, Obtain the nightly lodging with my wife: Command me hang myself, nay fight for thee, Nay (sweet friend) my rapier must be free What else I have, by your name is known, What's mine's my friende's, save only that's mine own: Of mettles strange, of composition rare, Like Mars his sword, my rapier scorns compare, Is not possession to thefts fire fuel? Whoeed trust security such a jewel? Who hath your rapier that you do not fear it? Nay, where's your rapier that you do not wear it? O sir, so many cans of expense, Why do you laugh? faith 'tis not pawned for sixpence. Splendour of nature, lustre of a nose, Whose colour far exceeds the reddest rose, A radiant nose, for brightness glorious, A nose whose greatness is notorious, All modern noses this nose far out goes, A handful broad, why 'tis monstrous for a nose. Mirosos coming to a tavern near, In gallant terms began to curse and swear, This roguish house, what the pox brought me hither, What are these rogues and whores gone altogether: 'tis a maingie house, here gentlemen may starve, Whilst knaves and drabs are playing that should serve: Anon says one, may it please your worship dine, My leisure is (you slave) to drink some wine. What smell is this? faugh, here is a filthy fog, A shaking room, able to choke a dog: Such dirty towels, rude cushions, rotten stools, Plague on such Beggar-masters, and men fools. A quart of hippocras fresh, neat, and pure, Now by my bl●de, I shall be angry sure: The boy with humble flexure doth decline, And ●●dging to the Cellar down for wine, Mean while Miroso's gone, and wots you why? ●oxe take the Beaker, must he stand so nigh. I Have a love by whom the morning rise Looks still to have her blushing glory tainted, Were they not bleared, O she had excellent eyes▪ The world affords a face no better painted: A lip like to Diana, her fountains brink, Heavens for a breath, O that it did not stink. Didst thou but see with what facility She wins a lover with an amorous look, Thou'dst consecrate to all eternity Her famous name, within some brazen book. Lightning of Nature, beauty's amazing thunder, The rogue doth smile, 'twould make your worship wonder. Compared to her priceles-valued mind, Perfections richest jewel is but poor, One cannot wish a wench to be more kind, Mistake me not for a Pander, her a whore: For if you do, you wrong us not a little, You may know we are honest, cause we live at Spittle. MY lady's sick, no earthly thing can cure her, She looks so grim, no creature can endure her, O fetch no Doctors, 'twere but idle cost, Her box, pomatum, life, and all, are lost. Seek not to comfort me, my wife is dead, Gush forth salt tears, drown every sense with weeping, Last night I was so troubled in my bed, That for my life, I could not wake for sleeping: Nor can I stand for leaping, weep for winking, Nor hardly eat a bit of bread for drinking. Thus in most piteous manner have I lived, This too too tedious time, two days with my maid, Never like me was any creature grieved, Ere since her death, for very woe I have played: No marvel, for I could not work for sweeting, Nor could the eggs be buttered ere I was eating. Yet now at last, it's time, it's time, adieu, Live (loved soul) for ever in sweet bliss: When the old is gone, 'tis time to seek a new, I love thee dearly (Bess) aye by this kiss; The match is made, and here's an end of sorrow, we'll lie together to night, marry to morrow. HEr niceness pleasure is to walk, Room there for Madam Minx, O fie upon this bawdy talk, Now faugh, by gisse it stinks. Why will you not give place (sir knave) He'll not attend your fables, She loves not to hear of, nor to have Such fowl evil favoured babbles. O touch her not, for Diana's sake, she's Venus' chiefest scorner, The place you greatly do mistake, I hope this is no corner. One snatched her keys that sat her near, Because the chain was gaudy, And put them I'll not tell you where, Because t is somewhat bawdy. Polluted things, touch not her rings, Your stinking heat she'll cool: For fingers twain, scarce touched the chain, And carried them to a pool, Where till she had bestowed great store Of washing the defiled, She to her keys a crown before, Can not have reconciled: But happiest men crosses endure, When Fate her might advances, Nor puritanism is secure. From greatest of mischances. For within a month, and twenty days, This Minx surnamed the Mild, Did make the fowler of her keys, The father of a child. SCud coward valour, fly my tempestuous ire And the turbouse tumbling of my whirlwind fury, So raging spleen, belike out thy sparkling fire, My hands are judges, and my sword's the jury: None escapes with less, that dares approach my sight, Than condemnation to eternal night. The extreme torture of his fatal hour, Attends the villain that's next obvious, Stretch out my legs, I'll walk five mile an hour, Soft, now I know, what makes me so outrageous: Knew I who would trust me, I'd go ease my mind, I am huge and hungry cause I have not dined. 'mongst liquids, R. and L. surpass the rest, Of consonants, S. X. were, and are best. O Hark my Mistress comes, where shall I hide me Her rattling silks prognosticate she'll chide me. This peevish dreaming whore, where is she mising? That doth so well attend me whilst I am rising, No cussion for my feet, no chair to sit in, Nor any basin set (forsooth) to spit in, A hair lay on my stockings, do you gin to cry? Nay more (you quean) my buske-points stood awry, My shoes an inch asunder, with no socks in, My kirtle wrinkled big as any pin, Pox on your fingers, are they grown so nice, My girdle trust me, was as cold as ise, Whether run you (sirrogue) what are you blind? I hold my life, my monkey hath not dined: Come, dood a, dood a, this villain must be beaten, This silly worm no bit to day hath eaten, O God is this a life? judge (Gentlemen) A Gentleman's Monkey fast till ten, With that unto the trembling boy she skips, And set's her signet seals upon his lips, And also with the maid she kindly dealde, Who could not pass in law till she was sealed, Admire the rising of this curious charmer, Her father is so poor a country farmer, That in my conscience 'twould content his mind, To eat the scraps her monkey leaves behind, Farmer? (poor man) ay, and with care observes To farm the stable as occasion serves GEorge hath a wife which for his dagger cares not, 'Cause she dares fight when George's dagger dares not: For when he fell at straws, and leapt over stocks, Coursing the can until he had catched a fox; She with her nails examined so the matter, That he was feign to draw his dagger at her, But yet poor Noverint conquered by the cup, Being sound bangde he sheathed his dagger up. MIssa will needsly marry with a fool. her reason; O sir, because he hath an exc'llent— peace, treason: And reasons more, the maid doth show, of perfect approbation, Witness my ear that heard her swear, it was the Lady's fashion. another reason that doth move her take him, I will unfold, Because (forsooth) she doth intend to make him a— Your nicest dames, that dwell by Thames, of fools are nothing scorning: For the veriest clown in all the town, will best endure the horning. TOm had a penny but he had no purse, Tom then a purse esteembed, a penny worse, Tom grew in choler, and 'gan swear and curse, Tom sold his penny and did buy a purse, Tom was a fool, because in sums disburse, Tom's penny is more currant than his purse. TOm waxed thirsty, and went to his brother His purse and belly empty each as other: His brother kept an honest alehouse near, Sold exc'llent bottle ale and double bear, When Tom came there he merrily 'gan fawn, And for a pot would put his purse to pawn, To sell for purses his brother had not any, Tom might have had a pot now for his penny. O Tom was wise, pence have too speedy vent, Tom hath his purse, his penny had been spent, And now if any penny Tom can win, Tom hath a purse to put his penny in, But now let Tom his purse and penny rest, Tom's good, his purse is better, his peny's best. COme (gossip) sit and talk, look there's a stool I'll tell you a wonder, Prudence is a fool, Will woos, nay wood her, did, nay would (to be short) For he asked, she answearde no, and lost the sport, He asked again (O willing wretch) she would not But straight she wild, he nilde, she would, he could not. Look (Ladies) here's a face, for God's sake turn you, Pack hence (●hacht houses) or good faith 'twil burn you So set with carbuncle, ruby and pearl, T'might well beseem the wearing of an earl, A nose touching his mouth (which ever gapes) Which crushed yields liquor like a bunch of grapes, A chin as free from beard as any dog, Save stubbes more hard than brisles of a hog: And yet thereof the owner is so nice, No week escapes it without shaving twice, O cry you mercy, now the cause I have learned He fears lest by his nose, it should be burnt, Why say it should, the course were not so dear, 'Twould save him forty shillings every year, Ay, but therein another danger lies, His burning beard might burn out both his eyes. And that's the cause his shaving course is such, Such scurvy faces must they cost so much. A Moneyed fool, is like a woman witty, Neither of either knowing the right use Should no dies rise, wantoness grow wise? 'twere pity, If one, of one, if both 'twerewear both's abuse, He would be miserable of his money, She prodigal of wit, if she had any, He like a sweet perfume in stinking shroud, She like one Sunshine added to another, he'd be too slavish base, she too too proud, The flame would burn here's out, the smoke his smother But this conversion seems to me the boniest. Let him be wise and rich, she only honest. FLaminio's chin scorns every cut but bare, And yet his head scorns nought, save only hair. ti's merry when gossips sit upon a bench, To talk of risting Robin and his wench, Of fair Philip and of Bess the brown, And every Duck and Broodgoose in the town, My hen, saith one, each week seven eggs doth lay, What's that? quoth another, mine lays two every day, The third complains, she broke her hatchil handels, The fourth hat the Oven, the fift made candles, The sixth began to snevill, snore and sneeses, The seventh on friday made a mornings cheese, By this; confsed babbling all doth smother, The lies are lost, one cannot hear another, Straight all fall out, 'bout fathering of a fart, They rise, and scold, and scratch, and so departed. A Country fellow courser clothed then witted, A foolish Lawyer wisely thus he fitted; Good sir (quoth he) are you necessity, The Lawyer was amazed exceedingly, And asked him why necessity? (sir Daw) Forsooth (quoth he) because you have no law. SVsinne's all mettle, only air and fire, A wench as merry as one would desire. She'll look, she'll laugh, she'll dance, she'll play, she'll sing, She'll clip, she'll kiss, nay she'll do any thing, With any one at cards she'll have a say, And laugh and lie down, is her common play She plays at tables well, and true as any, Only sometimes she'll bear a man too many: At bowls she beats your chiefest alley-lubbers, Always provided that they hold out rubbers; Nay, if you'll nock the shaft, she'll shoot at pricks, She's nothing else but mirth and meretrix. RObbin doth rise, and forth must needesly go, Only to speak but with a friend, or so, But Robbin's wit in wettings ever shrunk, For Robin near comes home, but Robbin's drunk. WIll you not pledge me sir? now by this light, I care not of a bull rush if I fight: Nay now my resolution nought withstands, Horror and blood attend my murderous hands: Entreats are vain, for when I once am willing, The world cannot dissuade my blade from killing. He drawed, and winked, and thrust and shaked, & swore, And kept him off his rapiers length and more; Well played in faith, mass that had spoiled your sport, Had it not been at least a yard too short. Bully, put up, I see thou art a man, Come Tom, by Christ, I'll give thee half a Can. O Face, no face, hath our Theophiles, But the right form of Mephistopheles: I know 'twould serve, and yet I am no wizard, To play the Devil inth' Vault without a vizard; (Nature) be it spoke to thy eternal grace, That a man hath mettle even in's very face. nick wears three noses in an union, Each richly died with scarlet of the best: Nichol●s refused the Communion, Because the parson prayed not for his smelfeast: He only prayed for triple-nosed Nick, Now Nick was well, but's nose was hugely sick. Nick plays at tables well; but O his noses! For with his eyes, the wormeeate slaves play booty: His luck in casting's good; yet still he loses: How can he choose, when's things are so unsutie? For his fellow gamester makes his sink a since, Whilst he removes his nose to see the dice. THe great dispenser of small conscience, Hath made his niggard-name most richly known, His money-thirsting soul, that conscious ens Is sure the devils, though his coynes his own: How doth that chuile abuse his piles of pelf, That worse than any devil damns himself. Reply not (Chance) though I call thee incestuous whore, Bringing forth golden bastards to thy son, To him that hath too much, still giving more, And yet his avarice hath never done. You must be pleased with what I said before, For our sir john can prove you are a whore. Do you see yond Monkey in the silken hat, His cloak of velvet, and his jerkin leather, please your worship hear the coxcomb chat, And see him draw his mouth and eyes together: So impudently bold, that none can fear him, And swears and lies, 'twould do you good to hear him. He hath left his reformation now of locks, How think you then his living doth come in? Why he mends the burning fever, cures the pox, And gets his living by the people's sin: Good his head hath, and Rich his heel doth crave, Rich if you will, but good? in troth he's a knave. IF he's no slave, that to all vice is thrall, Begs jerkins, hats, hose, doublets, the devil and all: And of no man of Note, but still doth crave; Why then praedictus Mounsieur is no slave. Forbear (impure) stain not her thought clear name, The saint's devoted to the Queen of shame: Most beastly-wicked, man pack speedy hence, O God, come hither with unchaste pretence, Wrinkle (alluring face) eyes, wanton, nice, Come, come, i'll scratch you out, must you entice? Straight to her maid the gallant doth deliver A satin gown, which he had bought to give her, Which she espying, thus ends her churlish frown; Buss me (Duck) sweet, who'd have thought, thou hadst had a gown? CRambde be the guts of beggar slaves with mutton, And greasy licking of the dripping pan: I care not for such gross meats of a button, Give me a Capon. Zounds a man's a man: Must Gallant stand like puss-cats crying mew? Drink (villains) why ground, I hope you will look blue Attend us (rogues) Vintner, bring here your wife And shift her, (sirrah) in her satin gown, What is thy Ordinary? now by Pharaoh's life, I'll leave it, if't be under half a crown. ti's but two shillings: O extreme disgrace, He scorns to sup, when suppers grow so base. WHat ails (my Fisco), prithee (chuck) be merry, Thy sadness makes my sorrow pass all bounds: Come Buss thy Mistress, is my puppy weary? Some Aquavitae quickly Fisco sounds, I faint with grief, O bear me to my bed, The paragon of fisting dogs is dead. Then to an Epitaph myself i'll task, And thus in brazen letters be it written, Fisco loud butter, and did die of'th lask, For such a pretty dog, O death too shitten, Now all you mourning curs in grief persevere, That Fiscoes' sifting may be famous ever. BIfronted Peter's head, grown big with wife, Yet a loves her whoreshippe as he loves his life, Ay, (Peter) wink at small faults for thy wench Hath a pocky sort of crowns, all only French. WHat give ten pound for counsel? give a straw, Do you think there's any so basely-low prisd law? Well, yet i'll take it, and somewhat I will do, But 'twill not be above a word or two, So foul a case as this hath never past, Nay, I am as sure as can be, you'll be cast: With that the discontented Client frowns, And makes a rustling consort 'mongst his crowns, The which no sooner (laugh not) Conscience hears, But presently the case is changed, he swears, Pardon me (sir) I did mistake the course, Assure yourself, the land is firmly yours. I Know Ann Hill, and yet it is not mons, Both springde, and bridgde, with neither sons nor pons: This Hill hath a will, O strange, a Hill a will! Nor fons, pons, mons, yet spring, bridge, yea Ann Hill, Ay, (Hill) leave thy will, or else (will) leave thy Hill, For Will with Hill, or Hil with Will, doth ill. RIchard and Robert with intent to gull them, Borrowed of Will and Wat a hundred pound, But mark how finely Will and Wat did pull them: For Wat was wit, and Will was wily found: They said themselves had not to ease their sorrow, but if they'd bring a pawn, they would it borrow. They pawned a lease of threescore pounds a year, Thinking to get it back again by craft, For not long after, both come back and swear, They are in suit of law, and needs must have't. For if it be not shown within three hours, 'tis lost (quoth they) and then nor yours nor ours. Wat laughed at this, and Will or rather wile, With doubled Negatives their cunning crossed, They walked away in choler, and mean while The time of pay was past, the lease was lost. Thus were these crows gulled by the other daws, But fallere fallentes non est fraus. Observe the ponderous sense of every word: And look you here's a face for any Lord: Dost see this beard? I tell thee (groom) each hair, Then Prester john his crown, I prise more dear, Note but my carriage, thou seest I am most valiant, Then judge if I am not a perfect gallant: He learned conjunction when he went to school, For words, face, beard, behaviour, als but fool. MAt grew of late most miserable poor, But of his uncle he was sure of help, And coming to his house, knocked at the door, But mark the currish nature of this whelp: He knew him not, nor bade him once come in, Knowing torn breeches could not be his kin. But never-alwaies-bad-imperious fortune Raised his deserts soon from threadbare to brave, When lo, this wormeeate Churl, seems to importune The loved acquaintance of his Cousin to have: What incantation this proud world bewitches, When men are less esteembed, than velvet breeches. MIca is turned religious: why? he fasteth Long as his penniless religion lasteth. A pox take Pierce, for since his Supplication, Poor Mica's purse was near in reparation: Go fagget, how sir? a seminary Priest, Why I have not any cross about me, seest? Which croslesse cross, made Mica's case so clear, And therefore fair fall nothing once a year. WHat's he that walks with such a stately grace, And puts down any Coach-horse for a pace: With a hat as long, and sharp, as the Dutch steeple, Able to fear ten groats worth of poor people: Who his moustaches so ascendent wears, They seem to whisper rebellion in his ears: With a nose, in circuit like a new changed moon, And for a face, puts down your best Baboon. With rapier by his side, half a yard more Than would measure Prick-markes off at half a score? Why do you ask? cause I may say to you, I heard one swear, that fellow was never true: he'll make a match to day, and firmly speak it, Nay swear, to morrow, forswear, the third day break it. Nay more; he said he was tyranny's chief jewel, No Turk, no Pagan, no wild Boar so cruel: He was nought, nay worse, he never means to mend; he'd gull, deceive, nay more, he'd rob his friend: To say what country man he is, 'tis hard, It is indeed: for I think he is no— who'd think yond gallant by the boy attended Did lie a bed, mean while his hose were mended? Or that they lived hid in a hive like Bees, Only with barley bread, and Bridgenorth cheese? Yet shall you hear him, and his boy protest, That Beef and Mutton's but a scurvy feast: He scorns to feed at night, on goose, or duck, Yet (Fortune) I perceive that you have stuck Upon his witty nap, your wealthy burr, For in wit, he's far; and yet in wealth, he's fur. MY mistress loftiness, who i'th' light doth mark, Thinks not she'd be so lowly in the dark, There (prostrate wretch) dove-like, devoid of gall, How long so ere the wrong, she puts up all. Yet (Wat) your jealousy with you plays booty, When you come home, I hope she does her duty. To clip, and college, and kiss, she never misses, What? cannot husband's be content with kisses? Fasingo hath a back, be't possible? Ay, and a belly, but as unsociable As any back, and belly you shall find, For's back goes brave, marry his bellie's pined: His back wears silk, His belly scorns milk, Because he cannot get it: But if he can rob A Herring of a cobbe, You'd bless you to see him eat it. Fasingo hath another trick well noted, No Pilchers head escapes him, though unbloted: But he cares not much for marmelet or jelly, But if a cheese will find parings, he'll find belly. When any he seethe, he'll pick his teeth, As he sits at his door: When he hath not eat, One bit of meat, In three days space before. MY Mistress goes each day in her Scotch hat, Yet sets me down to supper with a sprat, And walks herself mean while about the hall, To see I eat both head, and tail and all, My swaggering stomach brooks head, tail, skin & bone Whip says my mouth, and then the sprat is gone, Then learnedly my Mistress 'gins to chat, The wondrous virtues of a bloated sprat, First how it fills, next how it doth restore One from a hundred sicknesses and more, But in my throat I scorn this physic diet, Nor can my belly keep my guts in quiet, Which she perceiving gins to scold outright, Bids give me the other sprat, and choke me quite, When lo, my teeth as quick as any cats, Soon make two simple fellows of the sprats, I think you'll near have supped (quoth she) sir gull, I rise, she says, I hope you are farting full, ti's true, with air, therein we both accord, But to preserve, I do beseech the Lord, Tom Weningtons' blue breeches from the rats, And me, and all good men, from supping with sprats. AN honest Vicker, a wizard or a witch A chimney-sweeper, Tom Tinker and his bitch. Met altogether at a tippling house, To try each other's valour at carouse, Sir john did reason, the witch did also well, Chimny-sweepe better, the Tinker did excel, And surely Tom had quickly got the best, But that his bitch past him, and all the rest, They wondered much at Tom, but at Tib more, Faith (quoth the Vicker) ti's an exc'llent whore, Chimny-sweepe and the Tinker fell to fight, Kicking grew in use, with pinching, scratching & biting, The witch and the bitch fell out, and 'gan to brawl: Sir john spoke latin enough to choke them all, And near leaves off until the fray he ends, Calls for the other pot, than all are friends; And then a fresh they fall again to swill: But the Chimny-sweeper takes Tobacco still, Do you ask why? O his Commission's large, For he may sweep his nose himself, and save that charge And presently the Tinker 'gins to suck it, Till he makes his chaps as black as any bucket, O then let Gentlemen leave off to think on't: When Tinkers and such rascal slaves do drink on't. ZAy (Zisse) canst fancy? then prithee constant prove, For in conscience I am beastly deep in love: I be sworn those frowns will make me to abhor thee, Come, if thou'lt have me, here's a pinne-purse for thee, Ah Rostemeat (Sisse), I am sure to me thy marriage, Would be as good or better than plumme-porrage, Sure thou'lt be plag'y sweet to him shall try thee, I know no butfer-milke will ere come nigh thee, And furthermore Sisse comes so near to souse, That I could almost eat my blacke-bricht mouse, And I 'mongst youths have ever bore the bell, Thou seest my heels be whole, and all things well, My head and beard (as rusty bacon) yellow, Nay I am sure an extreme admirable fellow, Sisse laughed and let a fart, there love was shown: And run away, judge, is not she his own. TIm speaketh common, what's proper to a king, Calling for's doublet, he bids our doublet bring, Why ours you'll ask? O (sir) he hath good reason, That ours as clear (as he of shift) from treason: For he and's brother, freti simplicibus, Wear'th suit, and'th shirt, alternis vicibus. WHy (Will) art thou my brother? then give me a thump Come bezle to me, let's be drunk in pomp: Let the jacks groan, the judges be all confounded, The Cruzes crushed, Cans cracked, Pitchers expounded: The black pots pinched, bowls banged, cups canonised, The fawsets fired, the spiggots anatomised: Now noses twang, guts groan, (Will) throw thy cloak off Who'd die infamous, never to be spoke of? shall haul the house byth' heels out at the doors, You, hostess, bawd, come; where be all your whores? O rise not spleen, byth' Lord I am offended, What cannot dubbed drunkards be attended? That's scurvy ale, this sweet, the other sour, I have drunk a barrel better within this hour. Rouse off thy tipple (Will) be not afraid, They drink, they stink, hose, room, and all's bewrayed. Thus Peter Potus every morning prays, Devilish, pray God not damned are his days. US, ours, all, the world, the flesh, the devil, With wealth, lust, craft, allures, deceives, o'ercomes, Fathers, sons, both, none can escape that evil, Which by transgression from old Adam comes: Yet grace, adoption, faith, pure, holy, civil, Withstands, deludes, o'ercomes, world, flesh, & devil. YOu horrid sins, that heaven hath named deadly, Cease to suggest the wretched souls of men: You that of all the world have made a medley, Yet now at last sleep in your hellish den: If not, yet be united; be seven no more, For seven are one, one worse than seven; a whore. Epillogus. HEre have you read, if harsh, not trivial sport, 'Twas brief, if bad, the time you lost was short: And yet because it was the Author's first, Say 'tis but nought, although it be the worst. Reader, some faults (by reason of my absence) escaped by the Printer: I entreat you, if you will, to excuse; if not, correct: the first, if kind; you may: the second, if curious; you must: and easily. If it be in the end of the verse, by comparing the meeter: if else where, the sense. FINIS.