Tyros Roaring Meg. Planted against the walls of Melancholy. One Book cut into two Decades. uno die consenui. At London Printed by Valentine Simmes. 1598. ¶ To the worshipful and true Gentleman Master john Lucas, Eternity. Deign (gentle Sir) to cast a willing eye Upon the issue of an idle brain: Once (though an Eagle) stoop unto a Fly, Then scorn such preiss, & soar aloft again. Great odds between the Mouse and Lion be, And yet the Mouse as much a beast as he. Hope lifts me up upon her snowy wings, Cheering my thoughts with fortunate event: Fear pulls me down, and whispers out such things, As curb my joys, and make me mal-content: Saying, the bird that seems a Swan by night, Will prove a wild-goose set against the light. Naithlesse, pricked on with foolish hardiment, I put into those gracious hands of thine These loser numbers: fitter to be rend, Or swept away, like deft Arachne's twine, Than to be read: yet (dearest) list a while Unto thy Tyros Democriticke style. To the courteous Reader. QVocunque aspicio, nihil est nisi Pontus, & aër. I turn round about, and can see nothing but grief. Coelum undique, & undique Pontus. Here, and there, and every where, Dowlands Lachrymae. I wa● altogether terrestrial, or rather melancholic, o● rather sadness itself in the Abstract. A friend of mine perceived it, and told me I was in my winding sheet, unless I drove out one contra●y by another. Resolved to be the grater that should chafe the sad humour to crumbs, I became Sub-sizer, to Democritus, being well content to be no longer mal-content. The light-hearted guardian sent me such Adsums, that on a sudden I began to look like a Queen-apple, and my wit was so le●ger, that I could no sooner call for a conceit, but incontinent it would answer like a Knave-tapster, anon, anon. In this vain I composed these Epigrams, which I request may be taken in good gree, and read when thou art lazy. Blame me not too bitterly, for misspending a little time: and consider that learned Poets have, for recreation, wrought upon worse subjects. I say nothing of Misacmos, who descended from Ela to the Base Keys that open the Privy door. Well: be as good to us as you may, and farewell. Thin● while he hath any radical moisture, T. Tyro. In Zoilistam. HE makes each mote a mount, and keeps in store A brazen pen to dash at this and that: Yet doth this currish censor see no more, Than the mashapen Owl, or doubtful Bat. O let the man that carp without a cause, Be caught himself in Momus gripping Claws, Recentibus Salem, & Salutem Recentibus Plurimum. & Salutem ABsurd. Let Heraclyte do nought but cry, And put his raw-bond finger in his eye. Laugh ye: let earthy melancholy part: It's Aqua fortis to a merry heart. Can all your Logic prove that matter good, That fills the mother-veyn with sickly blood? Salt not so much your tender bosoms frets, As do the humours thrilling grief begets. What is the reason why your faces been So near a kin to Wakefield on the green? Is't not, for that you do so seldom smile, Ne with blithe matters winter nights beguile? Is't not, because you sit in darksome nooks, And read such Vengeable and puling books? Go then, my rhymes, with dimples in your cheeks, And chide them that they are so green as leeks. Be ye as working pills to purge their pain, And make them clear complectiond once again. Say for their sakes your master took in hand, (Being tied their friend with Adamantin bond) With sunshine jest t'expel their ro●ten fogs, And make them dapper like pale-yellow frogs. O ye no Tyrants, but of Tyros crew, Beat not my crouching metres black and blue. O let your Substances be well content For to support this feeble Accident. So shall I pray with voice articulate, That the dry Barrel may you ever hate. Each day I'll parbreak wishes more or less, That ye may oft be seniors of your mess. If not: and if my chickens far not well, Which are but newly crept forth of the shell: By the five predictables I protest, That who writes nought at all, does write the best. Your matriculated cousin and fast friend Winter and Summer. T. Tyro. Decad 1. Epig. 1. THe suns proud coursers, having rest their fill, Curuetted stately up the Eastern hill. The flowering fields each creature did content, With motley coat, and goodly blandishment. The cheerful lark sang pricksong in the air●, And younger sheep skipped on the face of care. Well m●ught I walk, for why me thought it sin, Not to peak forth my head, but keep it in. Strange thing: scarce had I well a furlong gone, Whenas, me seemed, I heard a piteous moan: Ay me, 'twas one wrapped in a bead man's gown, Whose gesture showed him freshly come to town. Small labour lost, quoth I, to l●st a while To this poor gowne-mans' lamentable style. He spoke: I listened▪ Luckless lad, said he, That am enforced this dismal day to see: Shall I that wont to make my belly crack, Stay here and lose the flesh from of my back? Ra●her than Tyro such a change will brook, Out at the Ropers window will he look. I ●nly gree●de to hear him plain his harms, When he enfolded Dawes-crosse in his arms: And, the warm humour drizzling down his face. Bade it adieu and forthwith trudged apace. I like a thief that had in ambush line, Did bid him Stand, and go with me and dine. Such dinner was less easy to digest, Then greafie brew is swimming in the breast. He thought, poor soul, no harm: I, like a king, Straight led him to his Tutor in a string: Whe●e the grave Agent did his part so play, That since his Patient never ran away. Had he escaped, he had felt much loss. For Tumbling stone near gathers cleaving moss. He is a friend, albe he seem a so, That serves all nimble-footed freshmen so. Epig. 2. LO, he the boy, whose mouth whilom did lug The slavered milk from out his mother's dug: Is now exalt to undeserved hap, And walks in Garment mild, and circled Cap. And strutting it along the unknown street, With some fantastic Ramist doth he meet: Who can him greet and welcome him full fair All lowting low: and nodding like a mare That o'er her bridle wags her wanton head, Pinched with the hungry flies thereon bespread, He thus can say. Welcome to Athens, gentle younger brother: Thou mayst, ere long, be comfort to thy mother, And to thy dad, and to thy grandsire too, It thou attend the words I shall thee show. Be witted, and wary of that prating sect Which strives against Ramus, lest it thee infect. For tidy Peter like a pretty primer, May well be learned ere thou go to dinner. he's pithy, deep, succinct, methodical, A Cornucope, a volume all in all. But Aristotle is a riddling Sphinx, A river poisonous to him that drinks. he's blunt, unpolished, tedious, harsh, obscure, Fraught with vile stuff, and sentences impure: The child is turned, and claps him on the back, And swears, that Ramus foes shall go to rack: Making (forsooth) a sad and solemn vow, Tha● he will reverence the golden Bough. When Boys in age, or wit have said their fill, Old Organon must be best Logic still. Epig. 3. WHat though Albertus be a merry man, M●y I not take the flower, and leave the bran? Let him be bawdy (as he is indeed) May I not choose the flower, and scorn the weed? What though unseemly secrets he disclose, May I not hide mine eyes, and stop my nose? Great All-beard, rough with thy luxurious hide, I'll be thy scholar whatsoe'er betid. I'll be Acute, and Grave, and Circumflex In the deep dealings of the female sex. And yet I will not. What? shall Tyro be A Apprentice to the trade of midwifery? Hence bold bad Albert, pleasing bait of sin▪ bellows of lust to him that reads therein. I would not for a peck of Tagus' sand, My Tutor had espied thee in my hand. I rest thy foe, deferring thy damnation, But till I make a Theme or Declamation. Epig. 4 O gross! O monstrous! fie, Tom Tiro, fie: Give thy king Edward's shilling for a pie, And then transport it to thy den alone, And chop it up, and give thy fellows none? What? spoil a Neats-foote, and a marrow-bon, And never call thy next Vcalegon? Fie that thy greedy-wormed tongue is such; Fie that thy chopping knives can mince so much. Art thou a Milo, or Philoxenus, That art so sturdy and delicious? Th' Harpyaes would not snatch so greedily, Whose ●alons were of great capacity. How can thy noddle choose but be so dull▪ When caponlike thy maw is crammed so full? Right well I wots thou mayst have lighter heart; If this thou leave, and learn to size a part. Epig. 5. WHat is he under heavens inammeld vault, That liveth spotless, and devoid of fault? Where is the soul contained in brickle wall That stands so firmly that she cannot fall? Venus was debonair, and beauty's grace, And yet a mole lay sleeping on her face. Fair are the spheres wherein the Planets been, And yet cold Saturn claims a place therein. No marvel then though Tyro have some blot, Sith perfect virtue falls to no man's lot. Tyro can strike the sitterns silver string, And to the lute full many a ditty sing. Tyro can act and if he like the Stage, Hop like a Bull-finch in a Barber's cage. Yet when he sold his Aelian at the stall, Had not the villain almost shamed us all? Would not the drowsy dormouse have been hanged, That slept till ten a clock and then was Stanged? O faults! no faults, but tricks of gentle kind, And Proper adjuncts to a youthful mind. Epig. 6 HO: weep rose-water, spit ta●t vinegar: Tyro is waxed a ruffling Cavalier. Mount up ye millstones: heavens come kiss your centre: Tyro can strike a die stark dead, and enter. Ye toothless sheep, go tear your howling foes: Tyro is jetting in his Bagpipe hose. Xanthus', good Xanthus, turn thy posting stream: Tyro anoints his nose with clouted cream, The drunken colour thence away to wipe, Bred with the fumes of the Tobacco pipe. Nature's whole workmanship, forsake thy kind: Tyros round breeches have a cliff behind: And that same perking Longitude before, Which for a pincase antic plowmen wore, Nor hath he silver faces in his purse, On this superfluous trumpry to disburse: Nor hath he skill in Magics' damned spell, To raise some golden devil out of hell. But who the man that treads on licourd shoe, Or could believe, or dream that this was true? Tyro was wont to lead so stayed a life, That sage Sobriety was thought his wife. The graceless gallant with the crisped locks. Was worse to him than any nine-hold stocks. The painted paper, and the swearing die, Were ghastly Night-crows to his single eye. The withered leaf that is in such request He would not ken, but did the name detest. His Slops were spruce, and stuck so near the skin. That one might hardly part them with a pin. Tyro decays in good, but thrives in ill: Prowdr as a Beacon on a Forest hill. Epig. 7. Look how a Horseleech, or backbiting flea, Sticks to the skin, ne can be got away, Until her paunch be tympanized so, That she must either burst, or else cry who: So bookish Tyro cleaves unto his tun, Until his hourglass be twelve times run, And till his Common sense, and Fantasy, And Understanding part yg●utted be: Two yoke of Oxen and a mare before, Can hardly draw him to his study door. I da●e aver he felt no sweete-breatht air, Since the Red Bull drew weights at Sturbridge fair. Lo what it is that makes him languish still, Like a crow-trodden hen that makes her will. Lo here the proper cause as I suppose, Why worms dig parsnips in his dunged nose. Faith, Tyro, you and I must pluck a crow, If you go on to spoil your carcase so. Epig. 8. TYro by chance did read, that Generation Was the sole final cause of Augmentation. Eftsoons he shook the hand with single life, And set his wit on re●ters for a wife. He took his quill, and penned this kindly plaint, Unto a mincing minion fine, and daint. O thou Ecliptic line, wherein the sun Of my felicity doth daily run: Eye-pleasing object, h●nnie-succle sweet. Tyro thy vassal tumbles at thy fee●e: He a Leander, ready for thy sake, To pass an Hellespont of pain and ache. Be thou a Hero standing on the shore With open arms, and clasp him more and more. Thou shalt perceive, ' so be thy love be won, I am not Snow to melt against the sun. My bleered eyes shall steep themselves in tears, Till some mild answer ventilate my fears. Ah, dearest Nymph, some lightfoot lackey send With white, and black, to give me life, or end. Roses are in thy lips, O hellish smart, If angry nettles grow upon thy heart. Farewell thou pretty Mop, and me remember, Written in haste the twentieth of December, About the dinner hour of Eleven, 1597 Tyro, thy Delphic sword till Crows be old, Till Ister be lukewarm, and Ganges cold. Epig. 9 She read and writ, I did myself much wrong, To view the weeping accents of thy song. Thy lines the foes that sought my Fort to win, Mine eyes the traitors that have let them in. Tyro, my all in all: alack, how can Seely weak virgin choose but love a man? Nor can dry tinder stony fire withstand, Nor straw the jet, nor I thy fair demand. But, bonny Boy, the pillar of my joy, How canst thou shun thy imminent annoy? All wert thou Homer, famous Poets pride, And th' Heliconian Ladies by thy side: Yet, sith thou want'st the world's pale-coloured Queen, I may not have my kind affection seen. Add wealth to wit, for, if thou fail in this, We must not bathe ourselves in Salmacis: That I am forced to ring this heavy knell, I can but grieve, and so I shall. Farewell. Epig. 10. THe lad replied: Were I an Alchemist, Earth's yellow excrement s●ould fill thy fist. Base-minded thing, shall asses trapped in gold Have free access, while I the candle hold? O tree! O block! O stone, if still I stand, And see my nosegay worn in clownish hand. What jacke? Anon sir. Saddle me my nag, Newmarket heath affords a man a bag: My Atalanta will run on too fast, Unless some Golden Apples I her cast. No, maiden, no, my liver's not so hot, As to compel me love, if you love not. And yet (regardless of thyself and me,) How darest thou mar so sweet a symphony? Say truly, am I a Sardanapale? Thou know'st thy seeming virtues were my stale. No Night-flie I, to dally in the flame, Till I be scorched, and shamefully fall lame. The more thy sin to show thyself unjust To him, whose kindness was no kin to lust. In vain I champ the bit: no Ovid's art, No Nestor's tongue can rive thy flinty heart. Then sink thou, swim thou, live, or die all's one, Who would be yoked, when he may live alone? Be wed to homespun russet coat, or blue, To both, to neither, what care I? Adieu. Decad 2. Epig. 1. A Threadbare proverb, Youth must have a swing, For greener age flies with a wanton wing. It was the sober season of the year, When Pisces and Aquarius domineer, It's cleped Lent. Tom Tyros itching legs Advertised him to take his leave of eggs, And get him flesh. The rakehell strained his wit, To compass roast meat for the naked spit. He got him gone unto a neighbour town, To see what pullen straggled up and down: He went a thousand paces long and tall, Ere he could spy one bird Domestical: At last he cast his eye upon a gander, That from his fellows new began to wander: He threw, and hat, and made a deadly hole, In the true keeper of the capitol. An old old Beldame plodded there along, Whose teeth did waggle faster than her tongue: He ran, she followed with a yelling sound, And tucked up her dirty safeguard round. But Tyro floated on the beaten way, Like a swift vessel on the yielding sea: She fair and softly walked in pausing mood, And tract the fellow by the Gander's blood. The ruddine sun forsook our Hemisphere, When she the wily f●x approached near. The new-fallen drops led this old bloodhound high, To an out-chamber, where she did espy etc. The heavy accidents that then befell My merry Muse may not abide to tell. Yet thus much: Tyro stamped, and fret, and swore, Never to pray on foolish gooseflesh more. Epig. 2. TYro the dastard needs would learn to swim. Yet durst he not come nigh the rivers brim. He saw the tempting gravel through the clear, And yet he trembled like the heartless dear. Pleasure a spur, and Danger was a rain. That pricked him forward, this did him detain. But goodly well anon he can devise To check himself for shameful cowardice. Craven, he says, pluck up thy fainting heart: Albe thou want renowned Digbies' art, Or swift Palaemon's matchless faculty, Yet mayest thou wade withouten jeopardy. O mind degenerate, what needst thou fear? Proud Thamis dashing surges are not here. Falseharted lad, go cut the crystal wave, Fortune is with them that stout courage have. He laid him down, and 'gan to be so bold, As feel the water whether hot, or cold: Whether his head went first, the truth to tell, I ween not certainly, but in he fel●. Let not the foot my tender shin-bon punch, Whose daily burden gave so l●ude a lunch. Was never living eye saw finer tree, His head the root, his legs the branches be. But the mild stream was loath to let him die, And set him on his ten toes by and by. He hide his chilling bare, and home he went, And lay bedridden till six weeks were spent, Since when he wished the reason might be found, How chance dive-dappers live so long undrowned. Epig. 3. But ah, what meant I to forbear this while. To tell of Tyros Steeple-climing style? Had sweete-lipt Tully slaunting Tyro seen, Cratippus had not his sons Tutor been: Had mighty Philip known this witty elf, Plato's great scholar might have hanged himself. The greater bear, and the still-standing light He can demonstrate in a winter night. And yet (I blush) three loaves of horses bread Set bolt-upright, are level with his head. Time was when he that did the credit win. Had store of excrement upon his chin. Now he that looketh with a visage grave, Is height a block, a stock, a knave, a slave. Time was, (and then it was the time of joys,) When men were men, and prating lads were boys. Epig. 4 ALl white, all white: 'Twas voisde amidst the streets, That lechers two stood up in sinful sheets. When Tyro knew the tidings to be stolen, He up and told this pretty Poet's tale. junos' lewd Husband sleeping in the night, Be got a devil that Ag●istis hight. This beastly barn was an Hermaphrodite, And not his fellow-divelles' favourite. Wherefore the helhounds menaced amain, To prune the worthier member of the twain. The deed made good the word: without delay They cut it off, and threw it quite away. The needless part (forsooth) was presently Transmewd into a fruitful Almon-tree. here's all. If lechers might such harvest reap, Then Almon-butter would be better cheap. Epig. 5. THe Lapwing, when her nest is nothing near, Deludes the boy, and cries, It's here, it's here: So Tyro. Dost fortasse quippiam. Epig. 6. MErry it was, when Tyro in a throng, Thus praised Chaerilus for skill in song. Well sang the Bird● that never sings amiss, The Vocal music most delightful is. When Cherils throat is swill with buttered bear, He sirenlike enchants the tuneful ear. Nay further hee●s the Nightingale alone, That sings a Triple, or a three to one. At large or long he will not come behind, So he may rest, for fear he lose his wind. He can be brief, ne thinks he it a crime To sing a common song in minim time. Cherils' estate has been at, ha now, ha, Ere since he used ut, re, mi fa, sol, la. Epig. 7. WHen Tyro saw fair pictured in a book The gilt-hornd heart that swift Alcides took, He told the standers by, he would not rest, Until he caught a Swallow (in her nest.) Epig. 8. THe wilful Papist could not Syllogise, Yet, in his own conceit, he only wise. A very verbal youth, yet, like a man, He magnified his father Campian. Then Tyro thus. Not Bellarmine the primrose of your sect, With all his Sophistry can me infect. Nor Stapleton, that goodly branch of thyme Whereon the Roman bees delight to climb. Sir boy: know that my gall doth grate for teen, That thy poor shanks with Rings molested been. Rings with a vengeance, for they cry clink, clink, Yet when they come toth' brook, they will not drink. Now by Saint Tan thy tortled rings do show That olden Poets sober saws be true. For why, beneath thy knees cast but an eye, And there our Iron Age thou shalt espy. Blamst thou thy rings? thou dost them wrong I wis: A Circle the most perfect figure is. If by a right line thou do downward slide, And the Tyburnian Triangle divide, The Maxim will prove sound. Well, sirrah, mend. And save yourself from such a doggish end. Epig. 9 A noble Student had a ha●ke at mew, And Robin Falc'ner for a week or two Must needs be absent: so the bird must die. I● Tyro look not to her carefully. The wag was loath, yet daring not say no, He said, good Robin, tell me, ere thou go, What diet she does use: now wellaway, Whether worms, or curds be best I cannot say. The Faulc'ner smiled, and asked him if he jested, And giving Cut the rowel, him requested To give each meal a pigeon all but bones. And pepper her, and see she want no stones. He gone, Tom Tyro looked all about, And seeing nought but trees, these words burst out. Stones? pepper? pigeon's? pigeon's? pepper? stones? Faulcones six dishes, and I live with bones? Study, books, papers, burn you all in one: Who buys all Tully? take it: I'll be gone. Yet ere I journey I'll go see the Kite: Come, come bird, come: pox on you, can you mute? I now convey myself incontinent Toth' shamble● for this vermins nourishment. Butcher, and friend: I pray thee let me see A Bull, or Tup, or Oxe-calfe presently, And cut his hangers off: pepper and ●hese The only fare that will a Falcon please. Woe▪ ho: fall too: no pigeons can be go●, But I have bought thee better meat I wots. Eat lesser bits, for, if your haukeship choke, My gown and twelve pence for an honest cloak. Epig. 10 MOunting Elpenor had a simple fall, His brains were only dashed against a wall And Icarus that high aspiring slave, Had but his corpse soused in a water grave. Tyro, a word: lift not thy chin so high: 'tis shame that thy pen-featherd Muse should fly. Were I as dumb as a Seryphian frog, My signs should tell what doth my stomach clog. Rather than at thy foolery I'll wink, My nose shall be my pen, the droppings ink. Finis. Sunt, o sunt iurgia tanti? To the Reader. misshapen does misshaped stand, And craves Correction at thy hand. In the invective against the Daw That makes a milpost of a straw, At the fourth line, is to be seen The Beast: and so, God save the Queen. Tyronis Epistolae: Sive Must rampant in agro aureo. Liber unus in duas Decades partitus. Capilli curis semicanis. Londini, Ex Officina Valentini Sims. 1598. Expectato ad amplissimam dignitatem adolescenti, johanni Lucas, Aeternitatem. REgia ales defessa (generosissime adolescens) erecta stat: & caepe augescit, decrescente solis sorore. Ego, tametsi nomine duntaxat faelix, curam expuo. Non sum Vranoscopus ut sine cord vivere possim. En tibi meras nugas, testem huiusce rei locupletem. Maximo te oro opere ut illas dextra manu accipias. Quid nisi vota supersunt? Deus det quae velis. T. T. Moroso Lectori. HAbes à nobis Epistolas (vir candidissime, idemque doctissime) mea quidem sententia, calamistratas satis, atque elegantes. Pol, tu non minima in part apud me haerebis, si talibus sententijs, apothegmatibusque laetabere. Valeto, mementoque veteris verbi, Legendis authoribus proficis. Decad 1. Epistola prima. Patri Salutem. INtelligo ex tuis literis (mi genitor) esse quae ex me solo scitari vis. Nihil autem ardentiùs concupiscis, quàm ut Athaenarum nostrarum mores quasi vivido penicillo depingerem. Difficile quidem est, & arduum quod petis, cùm noudum sex septimanae abierint, ex quibus earum factus sum inquilinus (absit arrogantiae nota) inutilis. Et tamen in spem certissimam venio, me aliqua ex part● tibi satisfacturum. Academiam nostram putavi stultus ego oppido vestro similem. Atqui non satis illam novi qualis fuit. Scin crucem in caemiterio? Illam pagum vestrum: templum, nostram Mu●arum sedem putato. Hactenus de externis: nunc de ijs quae ad ventris victum conducunt. Nec cygnus, quamuis albus sine nigredine: nec Collegium nostrum, quamuis clarum, sine nubecula. Nam, proh deorum fidem! quenquámne hominem posse sine nutrimento vitam tolerare? Campana evocat ad prandium: quantum possum, festino: sto, sedeo: singulis momentis in praedam inhio. Oculos conijcio in famis alumnos, Subsizatores, venientes, & abientes. Rogito, eho, tu: Amicis opitulare: atque ille respondet, Alienis abstine. Colligo me quoad possum; spe sola vivo. Affertur tandem patina. Ecce autem (tremisco referens) macilenti aguelli minutissimam morsiunculam. Sp●rans montes Hogmagoggicos, invenio colles So●hist●co. Extemplo pallesco, dentibus frendo, caput scalpo, mussito. observat sophista quidam, accurrit, & obturbat ineptus disputator: ait Ventrem esse capitis sepulchrum. Scilicet: n●nignorat versipelli● mihi tantùm esse logicam naturalem. Triumphat, salem inspergit in nos recentes fungos: arundineum argumentum iactitut. Tunc ego, homo minimè malus, hoc unum dico, quòd nihil dico. Confero me ad musaeolum, singultio, lamentor. Senat tertia: itur ad merend●m; per obstantem turbam erumpitur. Promus panem porrigit miseris modis truncum. Ego impendio ad iram procliuior, statim expono quàm largam possideo conviciorum supellectilem. Mox, subeun●e animum miserecordia, hominem appello in haec ferè verba. Crudelis seruole, siccine innocentem vulneras? ubi (inquam) excelsa, & humilis crusta? Frustra Quòd ego te per Deum oro (mi parens) ut mittas Per●am? Illam tuus musculus pulchrè invadet. Furiosè mehercule in illam involabo, cibabo me opiparè, atque oppleb● largiter. Polliceor, mea fide, me contubernales meos non accersiturum: (nihil enim opus est: ultrò accurrent, & respondebunt non vocati.) Quòd si Suillae nimia caritas apud vos sit, te unum hoc rogatum velim m●ximopere, ut magna vis Butyri ad me deferatur. Etenim, me judice, Omne tulit punctum qui miscuit ova butyro. Sed, ut sensi, extra gyrum nostra divertit oratio: lora igitur attraho. Quaeso à te, ut tum fratres, tum sorores meo nomine, ac verbis, salutes. Auiam verò praeter caeteras, q●am ego in foci fumoso angulo in scamno sedentem videre videor. Pergratum etiam feceris, si Monoculum meum Tabellarium humanissimè tractaveris. Diu te tueatur is, qui est Totum quod vides, & quod non vides, totum. Epistola secunda. Eidem. EVge ô mi pater, ut tuas literas dissuaniabar cupidè. Argenti adventus multò omnium mihi est gratissimus. Ruere pecunia mea non potest, ut non ipse etiam labefactatus, concidam. Mi pater: à me omnia summa in te officia profectura expecta, neque fallam opinionem tuam. Ingentes ago gratias pro Capone: tutori medius-fidius levidense munusculum non videbitur. Facilè tamen probatu est, cacaphagum illam esse, & imperfectum animal. Mi pater: non dubium est quin tibi ornamento sim futurus, & mihimet, & natis, Et natis natorum, & qui nascentur ab illis. Ego logicam scientiam suprà quàm dici potest celeriter arripui. Quae, Ca, vel Hyp, intellextin? Omnis West X, Omnis Y est W: Ergo omnis Y est X. Quid? an nondum etiam ne hoc quidem? Incumbo sanè toto pectore ad laudem, ac gloriam, à summo manè, usque ad multam noctem. Neque verò ●e fugere volo, me, cum Rhetorem ago, auditorum animos Syrenum suanitate demulcere. Non verborum audacia exulto: non proclamo diducto rictu, atque ore hiulco: ita loquor ipse, ut ambrosia alendus videar. Huc accedit quòd poësis mea tygrides facit consistere. Cuius rei exemplum habe tibi versus hos, quos nuper, divino spiritu afflatus, in laudem compesui Tittlemanni. Artem si Logicam disce●, lege Tittlemannum▪ Ille sophistarum crimina pandere vult. Gnaws si vis tales libros volvere nunc, ●unc Tu pauper pueros ritè docere queas. Exrostro aquilam. Cùm aetatis huius ornamentum Spenserus morte erit extinctus, Regina nostra vult mittere pro me, forsitan. Si istiusmodi epistolas consolatorias rariùs acceperis, puta id esse causae, quòd sim gravibus negocijs implicatus. Deus tibi semper omnia optata adferat. Epistola tertia. Matri Salutem. SI tu (mea genitrix) vales, bene e●t: ego quidem aegroto. Ille ego, qui non i●a pridem flos ipse fui, en, nunc contractus, deflorui prorsus, atque emarcui. Graviter hoc dixit qui multa leviter, Forma bonum fragile est. Caput meum grave est: nasus tineosus: labra prominentia: manus scabrosae: totum corpus languidum, effotum, &, quasi laterna Punica, pellucidum. Heu, quid agam, (mea causa procrea●s & conseruans?) Vtrùm chyragra, vel podagra, vel spasmo, vel apoplexia laborem, non est facilè statuere. Vrinam nuper reseruabam: ad Galenum nostrum veniebam, consilium expetens. Ille tristis, & difficilis, rogitat, Cur? quare? unde? quorsum? num? nunquid? Vbi illum audio tonantem voce terribili, censen' ullum verbum me posse proloqui? Ille instat, ego mutio. E vestigio me extrudit, clamitat, Amolire hinc te ●cyus, aselle, trunce, dedecus tui collegij. Quid iam primum (mea parens) exequar? Atat: non curo ego medicum, quando ille non me: sperno pharmaca, calco catapotia. Sola tuos, quae fi●io hac in re adiutrix esse queas. Est locus in terri● quae Lancastria appellatur: hem! illîc est morbi caput, ac z●rigo. Nosti Annam, bellatulam illam? Deos quaeso ut sit superstes. Aut ego falsus sum, aut formae laud Venerem superat ipsam. Nullus sum, nullus sum, nifacias, & efficias quî detur mihi. Virginitatem dilando: caeterùm, De du●bus bonis, maius est eligendum. Vxor iwentutem alit, senectutem non diminuit, pernoctat nobiscum, ac peregrinatur. Fac me, oro, scientem continuò, quid hac in re faciendum censes. Atque audin'? Verbum unum cave patri de amore, ne ad morbum hoc etiam. Sit tibi cura mei: sit tibi cura tui. Epistola quarta. Fratri Salutem. PRaeposterum habeo tabellarium: cùm à me discedit solidum flagitat: cùm redit autem, ne denarium quidem affert: sed non urgeo. Nomen ego commutavi meum, & Sophista sio ex Recentiore. Plwia non cadit è coel● (sicut vicarius vester affirmabat) guttatim distillat è media aeris regione. Vin describam animam? Anima est idipsum quod amasia mea: nimirum, Tota in toto me, & tota in qualibet part mei Etquid me ama● de subtilitate ●stac? O frater▪ frater, vin' explicem com●ediam? Comoedia est multitudi igneorum meteororum, in infima aëris regione apparere solitorum. Alias. Comoedia est cater●a iwenum magnanimorum, fust●m dextra, facem altera manu tenentiam, quorum vestes colore sunt Thaumantis filiae, quae mill tra●it ●arios, adverso sole, ●olores. Ne multa, Comoedia est semita quaedam compendiaria ad Pronunciationem partem Rhetoricae artis laudatissimam. Babae! quis credere p●sset? Sardanapalus, & H●●logabalus fuerunt homines: (quorum ill● libidinosus, hic gulosus: ille laboravit ad conseruandam Speciem, hic ad conseruandum Individuum: utrique fuit magna Vis expulsiva) O te foelicem ter, & ampliùs, qui germanum habeas subtilem sic, ut vel Dunsum ipsum possit laqueo sophistico irretitum tenere. Non vacat pluribus tecum agere, cui precor omnem foelicitatem. Epistola quinta. Eidem Salutem. OZonam torridam! o ambos tropicos ô praeclarum Ptolomaeum. Ego lector Mathematicus, (nam non desunt mihi sedula turba recentes) orbes coelestes adeò lucidè de lineabo, ut, si non perceperis quid velim, absque omni sensu insanies. Procurre ad horreum: ubi limen praeterieris, ito ad laevam: albos at●olle oculos: aspicies Araneam vel in centro sedentem, vel orbiculari operi manibus, pedibusque incumbentem. En figuram. SATURN JUPITER MARS SOL VENUS MERCURIUS LUNA Potin' tu fidem adhibere? Quaevis harum stellarum vagabundarum terrae vincit magnitudinem. Sed, ut omnia medio illo Planeta clariora fiant, animaduersione dignum erit, Omnem Circulum esse infinitum. Ergo si tibi in mentem venerit annulum amicae tuae donare, inscriptionem hanc (me authore) addas, Amor meus circularis. Sum quidem juvenis labore indefesso. Nam, quem dies videt veniens stertentem, hunc dies videt fugiens legentem. Adoritur nuper me quidam odiosè argutus Sophista, in hunc modum: Pallescis, Tyro, Ergo vel amas, vel studes. Subridens dixi, Amo studium. Bene vale. Epstola sexta. Amicae salutem. Anna ●oror, soror Anna, quid est quod spernis amantem? Deamavi te (ita me tu) iamdiu perditè. Et, si quid facio nunc quoque quaeris, amo. Tu mea rosa, tu rosmaris: tu mea Venus limpidissima. Parturijt m●ter tua, et nata est corusca flamma, qua ego infoelix Ilium incendor. Sic ego vertor in cineres, te homine interea sospite. O crudelis Anna, nihil Tyronem tuum curas? Pergin' mulier esse? Nil miserere moribundi? Per nitidos illos ocellos tuos, per labella purpurea, per marmoream capitis columnam, per teretes denique digitos obtestor, duram tuam mentem exuas: neu committas ut suspiria mea sensus tuos praetervolent. O Cytharea, tuque, puerque tuus spectatissimun iwenem spoliastis, vulnerastis, trucidastis. Eheu, ubi sum? ubi? ubi? nescio. Amor ingenium mihi omne ex animo expectorat. Ah Anna mollis, & tamen rigida: calida, & tamen frigida: tu homo Adamantina me hominem Ferreum ad te attraxisti. Ne nega: convincam enim si inficiabere. Abi in rem malam, Naso, cum istoc tuo versiculo, Vix erit è multis quae neget una t●bi. Quam diù ego speravi miser? & iam nil habeo nisi spem meram. Aedepol nae, nos Narcissi egregijs faciebus, aequè sumus omnes invisi puellis propter pauculos fuscos, & deformes. Fallor? an animula mea me Microcosmum vocat? Incertus animum huc illuc voluo. Annuis? Semideus sum: si non, Epitaphium hoc sepulchro meo incidi volo. Quis jacet hîc? Tyro. Cur ille? Necatus ab Anna, Anna, cuius amor f●cilè revocaret ab Orco. Vtcunque mecum erit, bene sit (mi ignis) tibi. Epistola septima. Anna Tyroni. A Deon' ex mei amore demens es factus, Tyro? Siccine efflictim togatam togate deperis? Putâram Palladem esse innubam, & Pierideses virgines. Scitè fortunatus ille, Vxor●m nunquam habui. Vir meus es? nascentur filii: tuque in quaerundo vitam conteres. Interim (bone vir) studebis probè. Eia age (floscule mi) amor tuus mihi est cordi: cordi? Audi nun● iam: tecum praesens absens sum. Miperfector, vale. Epistola octava. Tyro Annae. INfronte epistolij tui December es: in calce Aprilis. Leo, ut Martius, ingrederis: placida ovis egrederis. Meritè igitur amor meus alitur, crescit, ac corroboratur. Libuit sic praefari: iam argumenta tua discutio. Minerva & Musae utrum Cupido albus, an ater sic nesciunt, Ergo Occidunt se togati qui animos ad amorem appellunt. Muliebris hercle ratiuncula, cuius ego cerebrum unae, ●ademque leuicul● distinctione dispergam. Quilibet homo informatur ab Anima rationali, quae quidem vim Sensitivam in se includit. Respectu illius divinae facultatis, togati semper sunt inter libros: respectu verò huius, ingenuè fateor coniunctionem illos appetere. Nec iniuria. Nam, ne minutissimum animalculum sine tactu consistere potest. Pergis. Scitè fortunatus ille, Vxorem nunquam habui. O callidam mortalem! ô ingenium metuendum! sed respondeo. Habuit uxorem, & non habuit▪ Anno enim quinto, & sexagesimo, anum decrepitam duxit. Viden' quàm infirmis fundamentis inniteris? Quamoborem prorsus ab hac haeresi opinionem tuam esse amotam vole. Sunt quae in aurem tuam, die Veneris insusurrabo. Pullastra mea, Vale. Epistola nona. Ruffioni Salutem. HEus tu, qui Vulcanum naso inclusum geris: quanti tibi Tobacco stetit? Equidem pro necessitudine, quam tecum habui à puero, non possum quin cupiam in viam ut redeas. Quid? An foelicitatem ponis in Euaporatione? Quasi verò nunquam viderim sonipedem fumum è naribus efflantem. Ignes ex ore (tanquam Aetna) ●iacularis: concedo. Generosus igitur: nego, & pernego. Pressiùs agam. Dicito, sodes, quid sibi vult prolixa illa caesaries? juro tibi nos abundare tonsoribus. Quilibet est in habitu. Elige qui te levet ill● onere (si onus id est appellandum, quod cum voluptate feras.) An clam te est Crinitas stellas ferè aliquid mali praedicere? Nisi verè tuus essem, te tam audactèr non monuissem. Da operam ut ipse valeas animo, si me vis valere. Epistola decima. Philomacho sanam mentem. PRoh Manors armi●er! proh Bellona bellicosa. Mené timid●m, & fugacem vocari? Sino, atque fero, atque patior. Siquidem, quae regio in terris tuae non plena fortitudinis? An quisquam Antipodum ignorat quantùm tu mart feroci, atque acie vales? Nae tu is es in quem verè accidit Terentianum illud, Denique, metuebant omnes iam me. Stomocharis, provocas, clamitas, Ad arma, ad arma. Apage sis (cubitalis Pigmae) sic Canibus catulos similes. Deterge gladium, qui totus rubet ferrugine: tunc I prae, sequar. Sequar per ꝙ libenter, efficiamque ut Corpus tuum organicum non habeat vitam in potentia: saltem ut liguli soluantur, sanguísque erumpat ● natibus. Valeto, 〈◊〉 ab unde, valeto. Decas 2. Epistola prima. Philoclono judicium. A In ' verò, verbero? Philosophorum Hectorem (mastigia) iwenum carnificem vocas? Obstupefacis. Alij quidem Platonis discipulum appellant: alij caliginosum: qui duriùs Stagaritam: qui gravissimè, sophistam: carnificem praeter te, nemo. Moderator hoc intelligit: tu tamen vivis: vivis? imò verò in Scholas venis, putida sophismata effutis, illoto ore garris. Hem, (inept puerule, & miselle pupe) respond huic ratiocinationi. Quod habet crura thymo plena, apis est: Tu habes crura fimo plena, Ergo tu es fucus. Quid negas? Piscis es ergo, non fucus? An elinguis etiam Veromanduus? Tentabo. Comparata sunt quae inter se comparantur: horibilis definitio. Dialectica est ars bene disserendi: Quid opus est bene? Imò quid hac appendice Eodenque sensu logica dicta est? Dic amabò, anime mi, mi Philoclone, annon amputanda quae redundant? Superuacancum esse liquidò probo. Quod neque ad indagandum, neque disponendum argumentum conducit, illud (tanquam civis inutilis) è Logica civitate est exterminandum. Atqui clausula illa est eiusmodi, Ergo. Si in ipso libelli vestibulo tam insignia offendo vitia: quid de medio (in quo consistit virtus) quid de fine sperare possim? 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, Lex justitiae possum scire ubi tu vitam degis? Ah nimis verum est illud, Terras Astraea reliquit. I nunc, miselle, Ramum tuum cole, Aristotelis, oculatissimi viri, candidum nomen denigra. Sed plura quàm decreveram. De magistri tui Scholijs propediem coram cunfabulabimur. Vale, atque timida mente circumspice. Nam, si te apprendero, faciam ut cum dentibus linguam excrees. Epistola secunda. Cuidam olim condiscipulo suo. Nunciatum mihi est, te non pingue quoddam sonare, sed ita purè loqui, ut Latinè solus videare. Papae! Nondum quatuor anni sunt, cum is eras, in quem quiduis earum rerum conveniebat quae sunt dicta in plumbeum, & caudicem. Rogatus olim à ludimagistro (memini enim, semperque meminero) quomodo Latinè diceres, My father clipped sheep: respondisti tu, Pater meus tondebat naves. Ille subiratus, quaesivit quomodo hoc: I have gathered flowers out of Terence, tu autem sic, Collegi menstrua ex Terentio. Nonne tunc tibi opus fuit sacculo? Cùm autem asseruisti Candel●brum dictum esse à candela, & labris, quia mulierculae solent unguere Labra ●andelis, nonne praebuisti bellam materiem ad ridendum? Attica iam in te est eloquentia, atquein labris lepos habitat: lachrumo gaudio. Perge elegans, & limatus esse: perge rem proprijs, aptisque verbis explicare. Id quod faciliùs assequere, si in Tullia●is eris scriptis studiosè & multùm volutatus. Vale. Epistola tertia. Eidem. Rusticulus es: hoc me malè habet. Dum enim togam sumpseris, philosophaster es non philosophus. Idcirco restat ut miserias tuas conmmenteris, obnixeque contendas, ut quàmprimum in Academi●orum numerum cocptari queas. Interim Maronem lectita: sitque Tullius in sinu semper, & complexu tuo. Accipe quo semper finitur epistola verbo. Epi●tola quarta. Cognato suo Salutem. HEu, hoi, (alter ego) superasné & vesceris aura? Vereor enim ut potes sine me spiritum ducere. Instituenti mihi epistolam benè longam exarare, tutor aurem vellit, iussitque brevitati studere. Pro me pernoctet epistola tecum. Tu velim inprimis cures ut valeas. Epistola quinta. Eidem. Enimuero (mi tu) nihil nisi amor sum. O Narde, Narde, quid ni te egregiè diligam qui omnia tibi postputaris esse prae meo commodo? Sum quod eram, eroque quod sum, Dum me mor ipse mei, dum spiritus hos reget artus. Viden' quàm repentè poëta prodeo? Au, obsecro mitte me: n●lo in soluta oratione quasi tabernaculum vitae meae collocare. Euax! volo agere rem seriam tecum. An nondum est ex te a● liquis qui appellet patrem? Per mihi mirum sanè videt●r te tamdiu esse solivagum. Atat, homo verecundans; Nec dulces natos, Veneris nec praemia noris? utinam, junone secunda, uxorcula tibi esset: utinam (parce precor) spes civitatis in cunis vagiens. Vide quàm non à vulgari meo stylo abhorream, tametsi acerba plura nemini unquam oblata esse credo. Quantae quantae angustiae meae sunt, unum tamen curo hoc quidem, ut me non planè deseram. Quid quod planè divino me citò inde emersurum? Quam ego horam si videro, complures hilares sumemus die●. Vale, mea amoenitas, vale, vale, & salue. Epistola sexta. Lau. Wil suo. ITané tandem quaeso est, perfide, ut te mei oblivio caeperit! Anno enim Platonico sum suavissimis tuis literis frustratus. unum hoc scio me meritum esse ut me in germani fratris loco diligeres. Etenim, dum simul viximus, Heliotropium ego, tu Solmeus extitisti. Tecum circumactus sum, &, quocunqute verteris, eôdem flecti cacumen. Nocte autem, hoc est, absent te, tanuam desiderio tui, florem contraho, Rore meo, lachrymisque meis jejunia pascens. Si tibi vel minima erit adulationis suspicio, insignem mihi iniuriam offeres. jusiurandum do, Gnatonicos, me infra omnes homines infimos putare. Siquid est, in quo in operam requiras meam, fac periculum num idem sit Tyro qui semper fuerim. Delatum est ad me, te paenè esse à Musis aversum. Ita me ament superi, ut nihil iam multis diebus accidit, cui aures meas aegriùs dederim. Obsecro (ocule mi) nolito prudens, sciensque perire. Satietate in literis nihil periculosius. Accelera, accelera, & ad literariam nostram rempublicam advola. Si secus apud te statuis, famae tuae malè consulis. Nihil novarum rerum habeo, nisi quòd crassi quidam, & amusi homunculi, laudem mihi, siqua est, detrahant: nullumque non moveant lapidem quo noceant. Profectò id genus hominum est pessimum, quod ex Musca plusquam Elephantum facit. Sed quid incassum? Cur Curetes, Coribantes, & sycophantas curem impudentes? Fac planè ut valeas (amice singularis, atque optime) sicque tibi persuadeas, sic sentias, nihil literis tuis mihi f●re acceptius. Episto●● septima. Eidem. CVras, ●uibus circumuallor, gravissimas, in sinum tuum (lux mea) libenter depono. Capitalis illa pestis Pauperies, me pessundat. Quam quidem confiteor iure obtigisse, quandoquidem nunquam consului in longitudinem. Calcei mei sunt pleni rimarum, hac, atque illac perfluunt. Caligae interiores scatent nitentibus ovis: quàm vereor ne non procul absint eorum Parentes. Quos ego, si sensero esse nimis familiares, unguibus utriusque pollicis coniunctis, morti misero. Indusium meum est lacerum, & divisibile in semper divisibilia. O me miserum! ô me afflictum. Pater omnem de me eiecit animum patris. Quodnam ob facinus? Dicetur. Absumens magnam pecuniam in germanas gerras, literas ad illum dedi mendaciunculis aspersas, quibus incendi eum, nuncque utor iratissimo. Pro. Item pro pullis, 5. ss. scripsi ego Pro. Item pro pileis. 5. ss. Pro Item pro artocreis, 6. ss. 8. d. scripsi ego Pro Item pro ocreis, 6. ss. 8. d. jamque aut ultrà Sauromatas fugiendum est, aut vitae cursus aliò revocandus. Salue igitur, Saturn, fons melancholiae: saluete virtutes leniores. Certum est generosi alicuius adolescentuli tutelam in me recipere. Ah, quid dixi facturum me? O crux, crux, utinam tu mihi sis sepulchrum potiùs quidem quàm sim instrumentum animatum. Vah, grauedinosi, semihomines, lapides denique sunt, qui sèdem, aperto capite, infrà salinum. Anxius vivo, & dubius moriar ni tu (spes mea) sedulò facias ne ego perditus perdar. Non queo reliqua scribere (sic iaceo in lachrymis, ac sordibus) ne tu etiam corrumpas oculos. Vale, & me, ut facis, ama. Epistola octava. Ken. Hau. Salutem. QVid putem? se pultumné te? An utilitatem solam amicitiam nostram conglutinasse? Annon tantum est ab re tua otij tibi, ut syllabam, velliterulā mittas? Quot lepores in Atho, tot suspitiones in animo meo pascuntur. Euge autem, rem teneo. Curas seminarium reipublicae: sic, dum alis familiam, negligis familiarem. Nec tamen est cur ita suspicer. Nam, si ut olim, in tenebricoso musaeo, tanquam vespertilio, latitas, non credo te Veneris pullum ex Noctua factum. Caeterùm facilè adduci possum ut credam te in amicitia refrigescere, temporisque●onginquitatem affectum tuum extinxisse. O animum varium, commutabilem, multiplicem, flexibilem, devium: vix, ah, vix possum temperare à convicio. Sum te quidem breuî aestu irae meae absumpturus, ni eam epistola aliqua blanda, pureque fluenti, sedaveris. Quid ego? quid agitur? Studetur, ambulatur. juuat aspicere lanigerum gregem, smaragdinum gramen tondentem: pastorem cani officiosissimo imperantem, fuscam vaccam agros altis mugitibus implentem. Neque verò iniucundum est agricolam contemplari colentem, aut stercorantem. Sic, ô sic animum, curis intensum, relaxare soleo. Comoedijs valedixi, nec me applico ad studium Musicum. Sunt qui tragoedias nobis excitare conantur: &, non tutum est agere in scena gestum, spectantibus Roscijs. Paedagogus tu. O virum sedulum, dignumque qui in nostro oppid● situs fuisses. Precor, ut tibi res foeliciter incoepta, foelicissimè succedat. Vae tui● discipulis, qui quotidiè sentiant Ternarium numerum esse perfectissimum. Laurentio nostro plurimam ex me salutem dices. Fac va letudini inseruias. Epistola nona. Gravissimo cuidam viro. MVnsieur, innocuis orte parentibus: Sunt, sunt, qui nequeunt carmina scribere: Atqui versiculos ecce tibi meos Limatos, nitidos: nonne ego sum arrogans? Sum certè, fateor: Gloria calcar est. Transcenden sine te non ego noveram: Porro, non speciem, non Genus, Accidens. Non Formam, aut Proprium. Tu deus es meae Fortunae: O utinam Virgilius forem, Pol, latè pietas sparsa soret tua. At nostra (heu) tenera est musula. jam vale. Epistola decima. Idem Eidem. EN tibi carmen, ensign offi●ij mei testimonium. Quanquam te iam annum auscultantem (Marce) Cratippum, Atque id Athae●is, Philosophum decet esse profundum, Egregium propter nomen doctori●, & urbis, Quorum haec te exemplis, doctrinis augeat ille: Vt tamen ad nostram non paruam commoditatem, Semp●r coniunxi cum Graecis ipse Latina, Id tibi item statuo (junior Tulli) faciendum. Vale. Conclusio. SIcque opus exegi: quod si legisse, laboris Non piget, euge, facis pulchra me pr●le parentem. FINIS. The mean in Spending: Promising Praise, to the Liberal, Pity, to the Prodigal, Mischief, to the Covetous. Praestat esse Prometheum quam Epimetheum. At London Printed by Valentine Simmes. 1598. The mean in Spending. NO Delphic oracle is truer than that Maxim, The hardest things been of greatest value. Wherefore Aristotle the great, doth easily win credit to his books de Anima, by foretelling the difficulty of the intended subject. Now, of all things under the heavens hollowness, nought is attained with less facility than virtue: which is so inestimable a gem, that the dainty sands of Pactolus, the golden bowels of Guiana, nay, the perfect irrelenting Diamond by comparison will become odious. The reason why she is so dearly bought is perspicuous: for that there are millions of ways to evil, and poor one to goodness. So then, it must needs be praisably done, to hit the clout in a field, the punch in a butt, the centre in a circumference. If the moral Scholar will sit in Virtues triumphing chariot, he must be a Phoebus, and make his wild affections tread the right path: lest if Phaethon like he give them head, they forthwith carry him to the Lion, and Bull: to the Bow, and Scorpion, to one ugly vice or other. It is much to come acquainted with virtue in general, but especially with that gentlemanly habit beneficence: whose praises no wight can express, though he run division upon them half a year together. The very name of her is Doricall Music to a good ear: but (alas) not one of many tha●●y shooting short, or over doth not lose her. The ●●ying of father Chremes to his selfe-vexing neighbour will suit with the most, Vehemens in utramque partem, Menedeme, es nimis, Aut largitate nimia, aut parsimonia. But, lest I be holden a vagabond, I betake me to method. First I describe the bounteous man: then I point out the most direct, and compendious way to his virtue. Some such order I observe in the extremes. He is the liberal man that bestows his precious metal upon such persons, and matters as is behoveful, in such sort, and time as he ought. That bestows.] For it is the property of virtue, rather to give than receive. It is also more difficult. Upon such persons.] For every Sinon that hath Or● miserere laborum tantorum in his mouth, doth not taste of his mercy. He regardeth not the parasitical kissinger, & soothing ●able-friend, who seems to gratify him with fair demeanour, when indeed he is a Melampus, a Pamphagus, and a devourer of his substance. He abhors the unsufferable, execrable, and reprobate jester; knowing him to be the devils quail-pipe, that calls gentiles to their bane. As for the passive wench with the loches quality, he may not brook her: and why? He is sure she will go proud, when s●e goes proud: and cause both purse and body to be soon exhausted. No, no, he considers that Bounty and justice are two loving twins, that always walk hand in hand. He takes a view of the manners of his relative, of his affection, of his laudable parts, rewarding him most freely whom he findeth most virtuous. Again, his purse is present where there is most need. He is the Zephyrus that breathes on the widow, orphan, and four-footed cripple, and on the true Soldier maimed in defence of our common mother. Above all, he is gracious to the learned sisters (whom antic Poets most truly feigned to be virgins, so easily are they wronged and misused of this graceless age.) Concerning expenses upon liveles subjects, he is wary and provident: providing always that he maintain his credit; imitating Nature, which abideth neither defect nor superfluity. He is none of those that build vast kitchens, but cold: spacious ovens, but empty: gaudy chimneys, but smokeles. He is none of those that raise proud turrets, and ample chambers, with Peripatetical galleries, till their purses lie speechless, and they become right housekeepers. What doth he then? Marry he useth the best method, beginning a ●otioribus natura, with the barn and kilne, and in tract of time erectes a worthy house to the relieving of needy vifiters. To take leave of this point: he spends nothing on gorgeous array, the tell-tale of vanity: nor upon frolicking, the immediate predecessor to Venery: but hath his pu●se in a string, and keeps a decorum in his actions. In such sort and time as he ought.] For benignity must be correspondent to the givers ability. Of all, and of all he looks to this, that himself be not drawe● dry, lest too late, he sigh forth a book de tristibus pestered with such like verses, Tempus erat quando poteram placuisse r●gāti, Hei mihi quòd non est. Wherefore he ever forecasteth, and remembreth that Dor non dicitur. Furthermore, he performeth his action with deliberation, advisedly, prudently, cheerfully, and for the right end: For Liberality consisteth not in the quantity of the gift, but in the mind of the Giver. Finally, he is never Practitioner when he is environed with eyes: for that is ostentation, and rank poison to this virtue. Go too now, were I a Theophrast, or Marcus Tully, that golden Trump of eloquence, yet should I come short in commending the Liberal. O heavenly mind that esteems gold as Quick silver, and Brimstone, scorning to be vaslallized by an Indian Excrement. Who keeps open house, and open purse: regarding others, and yet not neglecting himself, upholding others, and yet himself not under. Surely so healthful a planet, that blesseth his inferiors with his influence, in spite of Envy and Time shall purchase immortality. There is a twofold thread will bring thee out of the Labyrinth of vice to Beneficence. First, thou must endeavour to avoid that vice, which is most opposite to it. Them thou must mark to which of the vices thou art most inclined by nature, and frame thyself to the contrary. Now step I over to the Spendall, who consuming his Patrimony, kills himself with kindness: & this youngster is rather to be pitied for his folly, than condemned out of measure for his fault. This unthrift is only Pro nunc (as javel says) never prognosticating, vnles●e ●n this wise. The first day merry weather. The second and third unmasked heavens. The fourth and fift, weather indeed. Full moon on Monday the sixth, limpid air. The seventh, eighth, ninth, and tenth, never such trim weather since king Richard ●id naked to Leicester. The eleventh, and twelfth, dame Earth's hair waxes long. The thirteenth, the sun sheades his beams most radiantly. The fourteenth & fifteenth the may-bird sings plainsong lustily. The sixteenth, and seventeenth, weather, weather, weather, fine weather, wished weather. And thus, regardless of sleet, black frosts, tempests, thunderclaps, eclipses, after a while, like the Optative Mood, he hath evermore an adverb of wishing joined with him. If he meet his mistress, he hales her to the juy-bush, and at first dash cries out, Drawer, fill a quart of thy most vendible claret. His brain heated, the corruption of one pot is the generation of another. Then coupleth he lips with his make, and threatens downfall to the chamber. And when his purse is corke-light he thus triumphs over her. Dicite Io Peacocks, & Io bis dicite Peacocks: (as though he meant Io the cow mentioned in Ovid's Chronicles, and her vigilant keeper, whose hundred eyes were set in the Peacock's tail:) Even so the good muckel-cock, when he hath showed all the kindness to his hen that he can, crows and claps his wings, and is lighter by an ounce at the least. Ne will he take heed of the identical sea, called Item, and Item, till he be upon the merciless rock, named Summa totalis. Alack for pity that the best wits and kindest natures are most addicted to this good vice. Well, howsoever it be blamable, yet in some part it agreeth with Liberality, and by Age and Want may soon be brought to mediocrity. Themistocles was such an ungracious wag, and so frank, that his father disinherited him, and his mother despairing of his amend, made a long letter of herself. Yet in process of time he was not the man: for he left his by-ways, and grew to singular account with the weal-public. Fabius was a wild youth, yet in his best time a man of good stuff. This so, no doubt but the kindhearted gentleman may descend to the mean, which shall in short time be effected: if for a time he strive to be miserable. Not for a Persian mountain would I amplify this point any more: for I think each Now an hour, till I be at the indurate Button-capt Euclio. As this churl savours of nothing but earth, so hath he a down-looke. His neighbour's maid cannot fetch fi●e, but he thinks his pelf is gone with her. His cock cannot scratch for a corn, but he fears his coin will be digged up. Where he is, there he is not, where he is not, there he is, for his mind is amongst his silver. He is hourly ●aking up substance, and yet not for himself. So ye, not for yourselves, O oxen, bear the yoke. What more monstrous than that money should beget money? yet he never quiet, but when his coin is engendering. At night his eyes see no sleep, or if they do, it is momentary, for at every minute he gruntles like a ringle-tailde hog. So that that shoe will fit his foot, which the peerless Poet gave Dido when she was lovesick Nec unquam, Soluitur in somnos, oculísue, aut pectore noctem Accipit: ingeminant curae. A midaical slave, that had his trunks full of bags, and his bags full of baggage, kept but one boy, who was his cook and bedfellow. The wretch at midnight by chance fell asleep, and dreamt that a thief with twenty sorts of keys in his hand, was about the lock of his well beloved container. Affright, he start up, crying out amain. Ferte cui fustem, date telum, expellite furem. And so laid about him, that he made his bedfellow full faced. The next day waxed old, and the sun was giving light to our underlings, when the master and man began to yield to Morpheus. The boy dreamt and would have sworn he had been pined, in somuch that he exclaimed: Ferte cite panem, date cruftum, expellite famem. and supposing one had thrown him a manchet, he light upon his master's gnomon, dilacerating it most currishly, so that ever since he is known by his torn nose. No matter if all usurers were so used. So used? by Styx I swear, were I a judge, they should all and every of them be turned off roundly, to the great endangering of their neck-bones. Certes Avarice is a capital plague, a swallowing gulf, a bottomless hell, the greatest evil that the devil can shuffle into a country. Where the Spleen is big, the body is little, where this mischief increaseth, virtue is in a consumption, O what a rotten tail of evils doth this lean beast draw after her. Hence is it that the fatherless hath not his hunger quailed, while the mouse and weevell pamper themselves in the garner. Hence is it that the Clients purse is never less full than when full. Hence it is that the tenth sheaf is scarce the tenth part of the ninth, or at the least, the least in the company. Hence it is that one and the self same dish, shows itself on one and the self same table, till it be either gray-headed, or vide Aristotelem de generatione Animalium. Hence it is that the dunce hides his butter-teeth in bacon, while the approved scholar picks marrow out of a Spade-bone. Hence it is that the farmer deals with his daughter, as he does with his hecfar in the market, he that will give most for her, take her. In sum, hence it is that such a number of money-men ride continually to hell in wheelbarrows. Who lists to read Demea his repentance in Adelphi, shall see as in a mirror, the cursed fruits of illiberality. This carl, who a long time had been ille agrestic, sae nus, tristis, parcus, truculentus, tenax, (for so he speaketh of himself to himself) on a sudden becomes a Micio. The reason, Mei me sugita●t, meam mortem expectant Lo here the guerdon of too much nearness, hate is the miser's serving-man. Money came in by law, not nature, and was invented for the easy supply of men's several necessities. O then, would not he be done to some exquisite death, that keeps it in close prison till one piece infects another? Crassus' thirsting after gold, had his skull filled with lead. Aquilius gaping after wealth, had gold powered into his mouth. Pity but all misers should have some such Catastrophe. There is no remedy for this disease, no electuary, no pill, no potion can purge it: the only way to help it, is to get some Suppository fellow to blow Pindust into his bum. And thus, though rudely, have I played the Summister. FINIS. Name cur me verberas?