A STRANGE Metamorphosis of MAN, transformed into a Wilderness. Deciphered in CHARACTERS.  
LONDON, Printed by Thomas Harper, and are to be sold by Laurence Chapman at his shop in Holborn. 1634.   

The Preface to the Reader.  
THe world is a Wilderness, Man apilgrime lost in the desert; or rather Man is the Desert, not to be found, but in the Wilderness. A Desert who leaving the path of Rectitude, hath plunged himself into the thicket of worldly Appetites; to seek him in the City were in vain, who leaving jerusalem, entered into the Desert the way of jericho. To find him then, we must leave the City, and seek him in the Wilderness. Where behold a strange Metamorphosis! We find him not in his own similitude, but like Vlissis Crew, transformed into the shape of every thing we meet with. We then take him as we find him, and deliver you his Character in those borrowed shapes, not to put him to the blush. But lest of a Wilderness of things, I make a Wilderness of words, and lose myself in my own Wilderness: Or labouring in a Maze as Pasiphae in   

A strange Metamorphosis of Man, transformed into a Wilderness.  
1. The Lion  
KIng of Beasts is a right tyrant among Beasts, Nature it seems hath made him for terror, for when he roars his Subjects tremble at his voice. Instead of Ermines like Hercules he wears a Lion's skin; which robe though he had not on yet would he be known by his claws. He is always seen in his Parliament robes, but carries up his own train himself. He hath an Antipathy with the Cock, especially of the Game. One reason is, because he sees him commonly with his Crown on his head, while Princes commonly are jealous of each other. Some say because he presumes to come into his presence booted & spurred, contrary to the Law in Court. But I think rather because he meets with a Lion's heart in so weak a body. He is of a generous & noble disposition, offend him not, & he is a lamb, touch him never so little, and he is a Lion right: He is exceeding jealous of his Lioness especially of the Pard; not without good cause, since they often meet by stealth, and he enforced full sore against his will to father the Leopard though a Bastard, and none of his. He is so hot of Nature that he is never without a burning fever, but is fain to recover himself; for in his raging fits, no one of his Physicians dares approach to feel his pulse. He dreads the fire he sees without, because he feels so great a heat within, which even glows again at the windows of his eyes. His children are no crying Puppies, but whelps rather, that come at last to be roaring boys; Yet they cannot a letter of the book, not so much as the Christ-cross Row. Only in the Greek Alphabet their memory serves but to carry away the last letter (〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉) which they will tone forth with such a throat as no crier in Westminster-hall can put you forth such a one. And no marvel they can read no better, since they hate the vowels; the A because it is too childish, the E too feminine, the I stands not with their majesty, for the O they are too stout to blinch or say oh at any thing, and for the V they hold it rusticity. If he chance to fly out at any time or be unruly, whereas Madmen are put into Bedlam, Rogues into Bridwell, Beggars into the Stocks, Nightwalkers into the Counter, he for his Nobility is clapped into the Tower, where he is never like to come forth, till instead of stripping his Collar, he be stripped of his skin.   

2. The Squirill  
IS that nimble Reveller of the Forest who is always set upon a merry pin. It is the innocence of his gentle breast, that makes his heart so light, and the body so naturally active. He keeps Holiday every day, and is never without his pumps on, to be ready to dance. For he will dance you beyond measure, and yet be never out of his dance. He is very desperate in his tricks, so that if he chance to fall, he ventures his neck, life, and all. He is no Carpet-knight that danceth on strewed tapestries, for he will dance upon a tree without any music, But this in the Forest only, for in the City he hath another manner with him, where it is ridiculous to dance without music, and therefore gets him a dancing school with a chime of little Bells at least. He is a fourfooted bird that is kept in a cage, not to sing, for he hath no voice that is worth the hearing, but to dance only. One would wonder to see him so well breathed who will hold out so long and yet not be tired, especially considering the diet he uses being commonly nuts, so apt with us to breed obstructions, and the tissick. With an apple and a nut or two he will make himself not only an handsome collation but a royal feast. It is very strange what teeth the thief hath, for he will pair you a walnut as big as his head, much sooner than we an apple, yea and devour the kernel and all ere you would imagine. He hath a good face, and he knows it well, & some beauty withal, whereof he is exceeding choice and tender, while he never goes especially in the Sun, but he carries his Umbrella about him, which serves him likewise for a cloak in a shower of rain. He that should mark him well, would think him a puppet made in fashion of a Squirrel, that by engines were made so to mount up and down, and that either he had no joint at all, or all were nothing else but joints, for he moves not his head so much as his whole body when he moves. He is very neat, for he washes his face at every bit he eats, & should be a jew in that, but in other things hath no Religion in him at all. In a word, I told him to have a good nature with him, and a pretty wit, & though he seem to have a cunning head, yet stayed enough from any debauchments.   

3. The Bramble  
IS that little great Competitour of Regal dignity upon trees, who carried it away from the rest. He is the right Agathocles raised from dust to supreme authority, to wield the Sceptre in our wilderness of Plants. The Dionysius Tyrant of Sicily, who rules rather with the pricky thorns of severity, than with the Roses and sweets of lenity. Had he the Musks of the Eglantine to temper his thorns, his Empire would be more tolerable. It is a tree indeed without a trunk, a trunk without boughs, boughs fuller of pricks than leaves, of leaves than fruits. He proclaims his shadow to be a protection to all; but who is he would choose such a harbour to pay for his lodging with a scratched face? To retain the majesty of a Prince he hath always a Corps-de Guard about him, armed with Halberts never from his side. He is greedy and having, because tenacious and a notable griper of all who have any thing to do with him: And for his fees (as he calls them) he will pull the clothes from your back by hook or crook. It is a wooden Saw full of teeth, which needs no whetting, as being always on edge, but without handles, because not to be handled, yet yields no dust as it goes, like other Saws, but in lieu thereof makes the blood to follow. He is a Schoolmaster right, who is never without a sharp rod in his hand, and his Scholars are certain black boys that board in his house. He is as good as a Sergeant at Mace, for if he catch a debtor by the cloak as he goes along, he would make him believe he were arrested, and looking back to be ready to ask at whose suit. Howsoever he is a right Catch pole, that will go near to catch one by the pole indeed. He is no swearer, but will rend and tear like an arrant Turk. In fine, being of the family of the Bushes, he is raised to have a place in the Moon; for if it be true that there is a man in the Moon with his dog, he is not without his bush with him which is our Bramble.   

4. The Stag  
IS a stately Beast to behold, you would say he were some Coriphaeus of the Lions Court. He is tall enough of stature of himself, but affects a portliness so much, that as others help themselves with Corks and Cheppeens, he hath his Stilts upon his head, to make him seem much higher than he is. His coat is fair and beautiful, powdered here and there with certain spots which make a handsome show, and were it not his own, would be thought a rich wear, and little inferior to the Martin furs or the Ermines of Russia. He hath long and slender legs, like a Redshank, or Irish Kern, which makes him so tall a footman as he is. He hath four of them, or else it were impossible so great a bulk could be held up by so weak pillars. He flies like a Parthian Archer, with his face turned backwards, not to shoot his enemies, but to show them a fair pair of heels. Before he fights he whets his horn, as a Mower doth his scythe, but uses them rather as a Pitchfork in harvest to toss the hounds with, like hey-cocks in the Meadows. He is much delighted with Music, I may say much taken with it, for he is often caught of the Hunters by that means; As the Horse by his teeth is known how old he is, if the mark be not out of his mouth; so he by his horns, if he have not cast them in some bush. The Heralds call his horns his Thiara or dress, and say he is not fully attired till he have them absolute and complete: this I am sure of, that when they have them not on, they are ashamed, and hide themselves, as Maids that are unready. Hence it is perhaps that tires and horns are held Synonimas. He is very constant in his fashion, for he changes his attire but once a year, and then never al●ers it a whit. He bears his years very well, as one that takes no care, while all the care and pain is rather had how to take him. When he is hunted by a Prince, he is ever after termed a Hart. In fine, had he but valour to his strength, and not such wings at his feet, I see not why but for his goodly head he might make a noble Standard in our Wilderness.   

5 The Golden Mine  
IS the Basilisk of Metals, for the Regal Crown he wears upon his head. Nature it seems hath laid him out of sight in the bowels of the earth for fear of killing with his looks. It is either the Sulphur itself or the boiling froth of Hell, and eternal flames, it is the self same colour, and the cause of so many damnable actions. It is now through wantonness made potable, and for its sake we swallow all things. And if they could, I verily think they would have it respirable, which they do pretty well, when they can breathe and speak of nothing else. He is the Orpheus who with his looks only, without setting his hand to the Lyre, enchants and ravishes the most savage of our wilderness. He hath a key that opens all locks, will prostitute Widows, and corrupt Virgins. He will enter into all men's counsels, yea, insinuates himself into Prince's Cabinets. It is the Sun that dispels all clouds of melancholy from the heart, and makes one, of a Saturn a jupiter, because jovial. He is capable but of two sins, Baseness and Levity, which in him are held for mortal. He loves not to be cut or barbed, nor washed in his trimming, for thereby he loses much of credit and estimation with men. He is very charitable, for he will waste and spend himself and substance to make a sick man well, or to comfort his heart. He hath no good voice, but a kind of hoarseness with him, which yet is twenty times more graceful than the best music the silver makes. He seems to have the yellow jaundice, it is but his natural complexion, which in the eyes of men makes him the more amiable, nor have ever heard him to be thrust into the Pesthouse for his look: If he look pale now and then, it is for fear of falling in th● Coiners or Clipper● hands, his chiefest enemies. He fears no● thiefs so much as Vsu●rers, while the first gius him liberty, and let him go currant where he will the other thrust him up in some hole or dungeon, where he sees no light. Though he be heavy in himself, yet is he lighter and fitter for travel than Silver is: in fine he is good if not abused.   

6. The Hedgehog  
IS a right Urchin and a peevish Elf, that cannot be meddled with at no hand. He is a whole fort in himself, he the Governor, his skin the walls, his prickles the Corpses de guard. He is very jealous and suspicious by nature, so that he never takes his rest, till he have set the watch. He hath a drawbridge to collect himself with at his pleasure, especially when he stands upon his guard, so as it were impossible to make any breach into him. He is a great enemy to the winds, principally the North and South; and therefore having but two gates to the City where he keeps his hold, he hath barricadoes for them both to shut them out. There are two sorts of them, one for land, who never put to sea, the other seafaring men, that never come to land: who as they differ in trade of life, so do their manners: yet both are weather wise alike, and both crafty enough it seems to provide for themselves. For if the one have his fort, the other his ship to trust to: and if the one keep out the wind at his doors, the other in a storm will stick to his tackling, and take in stones for his Ballast, or if need be, cleave to an anchor; and therefore should be politic as they all likely are, who are so. He is all comb, though not to comb with, which hath no teeth but to mischief with, and therefore is no friend from the teeth outward, while every tooth is a very sting. He is but a milksop yet, and a very suckling, who will hang on the speens of every Cow, which therefore makes him cry so like a child. He cannot brag much of his gentry, whose father was a Boar, his mother a Sow, himself a Pig, and all begot under a hedge. If there be any such place as Hogs Norton is, where Pigs play on the Organs, it is surely with them; who have such a squeaking cry with their wind instruments. What his flesh is to eat, I know not, but I should think, he that should eat him whole, were as good have a burr in his throat. They say his flesh is as good and as tender as a Rabbit, but this I am sure, their fur is nothing near so gentle. As the Fox hath his hole, so hath he his bush, from whence there is no getting him forth, till he be fired out. He is no great meddler himself, nor loves to be meddled with, nor any that is wise, I think, will tease with him, who knows how touchy he is. For my part, if I stumble not on him, I will have nothing to do with him.   

7. The Pike  
IS the Pirate of the Lake, that roves and preys upon the little Fishermen of that sea, who is so covetous and cruel, that he gives no quarter to any; when he takes his prize, he goes not to the shore to make his market, but greedily devours it himself; yea, is such a Cormorant, that he will not stay the dressing of it. He is called the Wolf of the water, but is indeed a monster of nature; for the Wolf spares his kind, but he will devour his own nephews ere they come to full growth. He is very gallant in apparel, and seems to affect to go rather in silver than in gold, wherein he spares for no cost▪ for his habit is all laid with silver plate down to the foot in scallop wise. He is a right man of war, and is so slender built, and draws so little water, as he will land at pleasure, and take his prey where he list, no shallop shall follow where he will lead. The Pikes themselves are the taller ships, the Pickerels, of a middle sort, and the jacks, the Pinnaces amongst them, which are all armed according to their burden. The The master or Pilot sits at the prore, yet hath the rudder so at command, that he can wind and turn the vessel which way he will, in the twinkling of an eye. He sets up but little sails, because he would not be discovered who he is, yea many times no sail at all, but trusts to the fins, his Oars. The youthfuller sorts of Pikes, whom through familiarity they call jacks, are notable Lads indeed, and so their strength and bigness will fish as their father's 〈◊〉. In a word, a man would easily be mistaken in him in beholding him so handsome and gentle a creature, and never imagine him to be half so ravenous as he is; but Fronti nulla fides.   

8. The Rock  
IS the huge and vast Whale in the sea of the desert, which spouts his water by the springs that shout from him; and in the time of tempests, by his open jaws receives the amazed beasts as jonas into his belly, and so shelters them till the storm blow over. He is so unwieldy and stiff in all his joints, as he never moves but in Earthquakes, and then rocks like himself. It is the palace of the king of beasts, where he keeps his Court, well founded, walled, and vaulted over with a stony roof; no windows there, but the open doors or mouth thereof, unless you will say the eyes of every creature there, are the glass windows, which being within, do serve them well enough to see with. He is even as old as the world, and hath seen many centuries of years to pass over his head. He could speak perhaps of the Deluge of Noah, as it had been but yesterday, were he well put to it. This I can tell you, that being so long under water, he still keeps his breath to the end, as well as at the first, and came forth of the waters as fresh as ever. There is no Tortoise could bear so great a load, yea, if the whole world were laid on his back, he would not shrink an inch under it, unless the foundation or centre should fail. It is well that God and nature hath made him inanimate, for were he sensible as the beasts of the Forests are, and should but walk therein, he would shoulder every thing out of his place. He is nothing so bad as those of the sea are, which lie lurking in wait over head and ears to work mischief, while this of the wilderness is very courteous, and doth many good offices for his neighbours, the inhabitants round about him. He is very valiant, for if he have any quarrels with any, he will never budge a foot from the place he is in. In fine, though he be a Rock, he is no scandal of offence to any, but a fair example and pattern to us of constancy and perseverance in virtue and a good life.   

9 The Goat  
IS a right Worcestershire man, bred on Mauburne hills, which he takes for an honour, and therefore stands so much upon his tiptoes. He is high fed, but is but lean, because leaving the fat of the earth, he picks his hungry salads from the bush tops. He is a very churl, who is never good to any till he be dead, for than you may have his skin, a good commodity, nor ever comes to any honour till then, when he hath the privilege to kiss the best man's hand. If he come from Spain, he is allied to the chiefest houses there, and derives himself from that of the Corduas, and will be called by no other name. Yet howsoever he is but a Sloven in his clothes, which hang so like rags about him as his knees appear not. It should seem of himself he hath but an ill breath, who is likely never without his perfumes, and is not so neat as he should be. He is very grave as appears well by his long beard, but not trimmed after the Persian manner, with fair Mustachoes, while his hair grows all beneath his chin; whereof he is so proud, that if you take him by it, they all take it for a common affront to the illustrious family of the Goats, and will either hang down the head, or make it a quarrel. He glories of I know not what, and despiseth the innocence of the sheep for his simplicity, and wanting the garb of a complete Gallant as he takes himself to be. But the great Shepherd as the only King Herald of Arms, hath decided already which is the better man, and put him on the left hand. While they are kids they are innocent enough, but being elder grow debauched to all lasciviousness. They are very amorous, and therefore their milk is cordial, for love flows from the heart. He is a notable Physician, but deals by restoratives only, and therein hath excellent medicines many ways. He should be cursed, who hath so harsh a hair which perhaps is the cause he is never trimmed. He is quick of hearing, but not so quick as to hear any good of himself, for they all cry out upon him, fie, fie, how he stinks; which he neither regards, nor yet believes; so good a conceit he hath of himself. He hath an excellent ear, and loves Music beyond measure, but not out of measure, for that would argue he had no ear. But he hath no Nose to smell with, that makes his ears so good, Quia pluribus intentus: the Fawns and Satyrs take it for a grace to put on his dress, who are no small ones in this wilderness. Nor hath he lived so ill a life on earth, but he hath deserved to have his place there in the heavens, as well as the rest, where I leave him.   

10. The Echo  
IS the Iris of the ear, as the Iris is the Echo of the eyes. She is the true Chameleon of the Air that changes into every colourable sense. The Proteus that transforms herself to every shape of words. She is the Inamourado of the Forest that will be taken with every one's love, and as Narcissus with his own beauty, be enamoured with her own tongue, and take delight to hear herself speak. Yea she is a thing or nothing, a rattling Gossip, a mere babbler, a teller of tales. One that hath no substance in her, but is a mere accident, in that she comes suddenly upon you unlooked for. She is of a strange quality, who takes delight to affright the ignorant and simple: will play the Hobgoblin, the Fairy of the woods, lest in sight, or wholly out of sight. Though she be a talker, and full of her tongue, yet she hath no invention with her, nor can contrive any thing of her own, for she speaks but by hearsay, only all she utters, and that upon trust of another, nor can tell you the Author, unless he discover it himself. She hath no memory at all, and therefore can remember but the last words she hears, which she will do very faithfully indeed, and not leave you out a tittle. She hath no certain tone of her own, but as she is taught, immediately before which she will exactly imitate, if her master be present, else not, for she cannot retain her lessen long, but must instantly recite it, or else she is no body. She will keep her key well if she sing, and never miss it, if he that is the Rector Chori, guides the Choir, mistake it not. And when she sings at anytime; she sings no distinct part from her fellow, or the rest of the parts; for she hath no skill at all to compose or set a whit, or to run descant on a ground, but sings the very same the others do. She dares not stand to any thing she saith, but goes her ways presently, and never yet durst show her face. She is a very Monster and a Prodigy of Nature, having no body to speak of, at least as small and slender as the Air, and yet hath a mouth as wide as the valleys. She hath no proper tongue of her own, but what she borrows. If the Lion roar, she roars likewise; if the Heifer low, she allows as loud; if the Wolf but howl, she howls for company; yea rather then stand out, she will bray with the very Ass; but is never better in her Q indeed then when she apes the Nightingale especially in their fughes, for than you would think them both stark mad, while they follow one another so close at the heels, and yet can never overtake each other. She is a right woman, that can keep no counsel, and yet will be ready to intrude herself into every one's counsel, but as soon as she hath it, out it goes strait, life or death, all is one to her. She were good to make a Player of the Stage, for she would take her cues excellently well. She is no Ciceronian, nor apt for fluent styles; but a Lipsian right, and fitter for a brief manner of speech Dialogue wise. All her Poetry is chiefly in Sapphics or iambics at most, for she cannot abide the examiter or heroical verse, because too long for her. In fine, though she be a common speaker and teller of news (as I said) yet makes she a conscience to devise any of herself, and therefore would hardly serve to be the Secretary of false fame, but being once broached, let her alone to blaze it abroad through all the Wilderness.   

11. The Lake  
IS Diana's Glass, or common mirror of the rest of Nymphs, wherewith they dress themselves. It is a liquid crystal, whose Ice the crust thereof makes the perfect Crystal, while the Sands in the bottom as the black of the mirror, makes the foil that causeth the reflection. It is more properly a sea, than the sea itself, because indeed a true congregation of waters, so gathered into the stony cistern of the Rocks. He is no flatterer, but a true telltruth, for he will show the Stag his branchy horns, the Ass his prodigious ears, and discover the satire to be a beast as he is by his attire. He is very liberal of his liquids to all the Forest, for let them provide meat elsewhere, and he will find them drink enough: exceedingly blessed of God for this his hospitality, for though he have given drink to all our Desert from the time of No, his store is never a whit the less. He is very patient, who will suffer any reasonable burden to be laid on his back, and bear it; willingly, if it sink not of itself, or be not perhaps stirred up and set on by the malicious blasts of the calumnious winds: for them he will so lash forth with his waves like so many kicks of the heel, that twenty to one he unhorseth whatsoever is on his back, unless such as through a privilege of Nature are so good horsemen as to keep the saddle and ride it out in spite of Aeolus and him. He is not hot, but yet of that quality, that he will bear no coats, especially if active and lively. As great as he is, there is no Snake shall creep in at a lesser hole than he; and like him where he gets but his head in once, with time enough he will draw his whole body after him. He is free to lend what he hath, as appears by the Sun who is always borrowing of his store, which he fetches and draws with his exhalation, but looks to be repaid again with interest. He loves to keep company with the nobler sort, who are truly generous and better than himself, and will bear with them, especially the more airy they be, as come from a higher family. But for the ignobler multitude, as the earth and earthly things, he contemns them, and sets them at his foot. He is so pitiful that he will communicate himself to any that stands in need of him, & will even spend and exhaust himself to do them good, being never more troubled then when he finds himself so limited that he cannot go forth to help his neighbour. He is cold of constitution, and will congeal through fear with the least frost, and then the very boys may triumph over him, and even ride upon him at their pleasure. He is stable and constant, and not so fleeting as the Sea which hath his Ebbs and flows, while being contented with his own estate, he lives most happy in his solitude, remaining so private in the Wilderness, where like a true Hermit he keeps an exact and endless silence in his cell assigned him by nature.   

12. The Coalepit  
IS the Shop of Mulciber, or Vulcan's Forge, where Neptune's Trident, Jove's Thunderbolts, and Mars his Sword and Target were first forged. If Pluto's treasury be golden Ours in the bowels of the earth, this is his Kitchen, seated in his cellars there, or his Coalehouse rather, where he stores his fuel for his roasts. It is the right down staircase that from the face of the earth, leads into his Palaces beneath, whose stairs are no more than a wicker basket, and a rope, not to hold, but to hang by rather. It is a chimney, whose tunnel casts no smoke, but damps, yet able to make all the chimneys of the world to smoke. It is the Peru of Newcastle Merchants. The Havana where they make their rendezvous for their black and sable gold. It is the Mare mortuum, or black sea, where they dive for Pearls, a Pearl-like treasure hidden in the scallop of coal, through its inestimable riches. It seems to be no other mould than ordinary, a little blacker than the richer sort of our best soil. If the wilderness be sick or distempered with some melancholy, or choler adust; it is the opening of the vein to let out that coaly and black stuff, true melancholy indeed: while the Anger is the lancet that pierceth it, the Buckets the saucers which receive the corrupt blood. He is very charitable, who hath not only an ardent heat and fervor in himself, but is ever ready to communicate the same to others, especially if they approach unto him, and be but conversant and familiar with him: it being not possible for one to keep him company for any time, and not inflamed, though of iron, or harder hearted than a very stone. He is a right Salamander that lives in the fire, but yet for want of fresh company, will even die in the fire itself, and, as all things else, at last be brought to ashes. The truth is, he is not a master cook, but a scullion, and therefore meddles no higher than with making the fire only. He is fitter indeed for the Kitchen than the Parlour, for his ill complexion he gives to others; especially Ladies, and the finer sort, who therefore cashier him thence, and shut him out for a rude companion. He is but of mean and base condition, and hath his extraction from the earth only, both by father and mother, whereas Signior Charcoal is of a better descent, and comes perhaps from the loins of stately Ash, Oak, or Beech. He is good to approach to, but not too near, for so he will anger you, and put you into a heat, but if you keep your distance with him, he is a very good companion in the winter. And to tell you truth, he is a good plain fellow, and an honest Blacksmith, and in the forge will take his liquor as well as his master, if he take not too much.   

13. The Bear  
IS a clumzy fisted fellow come from Greenland, who goes in a Rugge-gown, for the coldness of that climate, which here also he cannot leave off, out of custom. He is a true savage, who hath no more civility with him than that place can afford him: By his gate you would take him to be a right cripple, who goes on his hands, while his forefeet are much shorter than his hinder. He is no witch though he border upon Lapland, and be tied to a stake, for he burns not there, though he be hot, and put into a chafe by the Mastiff dogs. He is pestilence kind where he takes, for if he chance to catch a dog in his arms, he so hugs him, as he will even break his back withal. He is very liquorish, which makes him love honey so much, that costs him many a scratched face by those peevish Elves who have the keeping of it; but he cares not, so he may lick his lips after it. What his talents are otherwise, I know not, but I am sure, he hath good talons of his own that take such hold of one▪ Some call them claws, but they do him wrong, for he cannot flatter. But I should take them for paws rather, which will make you pause ere you get out of them. If he be a man of war, he is a tall one, for he fights high, and is nothing snug as the Bull is, who fights so low; but high or low, when he fights, he will be sure to roar full loud with his cannon voice, if he be put to it. He is very unthrum at every thing he goes about, and brings his work but rawly forth, till with the fyling of the tongue with much ado, he brings them at last to some perfection. He is a good Trencherman, for he will eat sound at an other man's cost. But if he be at his own finding, he will dine you sometimes with Duke Humphrey, and keep his chamber like one with never a penny in his purse. They have their Seniors with them, it should seem, who have their Majorities and Minorities amongst them: but fall not out about precedence, because in the heavens there is no strife at all; the truth is, he would make at least a good Groom in the Lion's Court, especially the Porter there, for his grim look and the habit he wears.   

14. The Mustardseed  
Seems to be a thing of nothing. It is even the dwarf among the rest of seeds; and yet is a Giant if you deal with him. He is very snappish, for if you meddle with him, he will straight take you by the nose. He is full of his jests, which are so quick and sharp, as you will not know how to relish them, for they bite shrewdly. He hath a strange manner with him, while he will touch you by the tongue, and tickle you in the nose, and so tyrannize upon you, as he will make you put finger in the eye. He is alone but a common soldier, but if they gather together, and make a muster, there is no ho with them, especially when they take their liquor well, for than they will assault the stoutest man of the guard. Poor john were but a poor thing, were it not for him, and a jowl of Ling, a fit companion for the best man's table, will blush to appear without his company, when they will never lin calling for him, where is the Mustard? yea, a Sirloin of Beef, as surly as he looks, after he hath been well soused in a brinish sea, and come safely off with a powder, and be never so well larded within with fat on his sides, yet if he have not this case of Pistols by his side, no man will regard him. He is hot and fiery of nature, which makes him mount up to the brain, as to his proper element, where he keeps such a bustling, as he turns all the liquors thence out of the glass windows. He is very saucy wheresoever he comes to any man's table, for he will take upon him to season every dish, so much sometimes as he mars all, till he take his sugar with him, for than he hath no fellow. He is but little in himself, but grows to be an Oak among the rest of herbs; upon whose boughs, the chanting birds take pleasure to warble out their descants, and who knows whether to the honour of this miracle of seeds. He fears not the Muster master so much, who but lays him forth to take view of them and no more, as the Mustard maker, who puts him into Bridewell, as it were, to pound in a Mortar. If he be of the right stamp, and a true Tewxbury man, he is a choleric gentleman, and will bear no coals; but will himself strike any man into a heat that takes him into his roof; though indeed he will easily be pacified again with a crust of bread, and so long I hold him to be no such perilous Companion.   

15. The Goose  
IS the trusty Centinel of the Roman Capitol, whom Heliogabolus hated and the Romans honoured so much. She hath but a simple look with her, but hath a great deal more matter in her, than you would take her to have. Yet she hath no good way to bring up her children, for she still keeps them at home she is so fond of them; nor ever sends them abroad to see fashions, whereby they prove to be errand gulls, and know not how to look a man in the face. She maintains them handsome enough in apparel, if not too richly for her calling, while they go in Plush every day, as soon as they come out of their cradle, but of a colour as makes them to be right gulls indeed. There is no deceit in them, but are honest swizzers all, as bred in Lucerna Lake. They hate the Laurel, which is the reason they have no Poets amongst them; so as if there be any that seem to have a smatch in that generous Science, he arrives no higher than the style of a Ballet, wherein they have a reasonable faculty; especially at a Wake, when they assemble themselves together at a Town-green, for than they sing their Ballets, and lay out such throats as the country Fiddlers cannot be heard. They are good penmen, though no good Clarks, but yet excellent Scribes, who copy forth all the Books that are. But for the Gander he is so cursed, and is so full of teeth, that he even sputters again, and hath no good utterance with him, and therefore by all Scribes is thrust out for a wrangler, being good for nothing but to sweep houses, which he will do very neatly▪ She is good for bed and board, for bed while there is no Featherbed or Pillow likely without her; & for the board, there is no Feast if she be not there. She is able to furnish a whole table herself; if Pudding, Pottage, Rost, and baked, make but a feast. She is very hot of nature, which makes her bathe so much, and go barefoot, Winter and Summer. She is no Witch or ginger to divine by the Stars, but yet hath a shrewd guess of rainy weather being as good as an Almanac to some that believe in her. She hath a great opinion of her own stature, especially if she be in company of the rest of her Neighbours and fellow gossips the Ducks and the Hens at a Harvest-feast: for than if she enter into the Hall there, as high and wide as the door is, she will stoop for fear of breaking her head; And is so full of tongue the while, as she takes up the whole discourse of the Table, which makes her so much noted for it: She hath but a hoarse voice when she sings forth; because she strains it so much, whereas if she would sing but somewhat lower, her voice perhaps would be more grateful; but as it is, I know not a worse. She lisps not when she speaks, but pronounces her s s very perfectly, in so much as she hisses again, the reason may be, because her Organ-pipe is made in form of an S. In fine, I could wish there were none that had more malice in them.   

16. The Horse  
IS a creature made as it were in wax. When nature first framed him, she took a secret complacence in her work. He is even her masterpiece in irrational things, borrowing somewhat of all things to set him forth. For example his slick bay Coat, he took from the Chestnut, his Neck from the Rainbow, which perhaps make him rain so well; his Main belike he took from Pegasus, making him a Hobby to make this a complete Jennet, which Main he wears so curled, much after the women's fashions now adays, this I am sure of, howsoever it becomes them: It sets forth our Jennet well, his legs, he borrowed of the Hart with his swiftness, which makes him a true courser indeed. The Stars in his forehead he fetched from heaven, which will not be much mist, there being so many. The little head he hath, broad breast, fat buttock, and thick tail, are properly his own; for he knew not where to get him better. If you tell him of the horns he wants to make him most complete, he scorns the motion, and sets them at his heel. He is well shod especially in the upper leather, for as for his soles, they are much at reparation, and often fain to be removed. Nature seems to have spent an Apprenticeship of years to make you such a one, for it is full seven years ere he comes to this perfection, and be fit for the Saddle: for then (as we) he seems to come to the years of discretion, when he will show a kind of rational judgement with him, and if you set an expert Rider on his back, you shall see how sensibly they will talk together as Master and Scholar. When he shall be no sooner mounted and planted in the seat with the reins in one hand, a switch in the other, and speaking with his spurs in the Horse's flanks, a language he well understands, but he shall prance, curvet, and dance the Canaries half an hour together in compass of a bushel, and yet still as he thinks get some ground, shaking the goodly plume on his head with a comely pride. This will our Bucephalus do in the lists. But when he comes abroad into the fields he will play the country Gentleman as truly as before the Knight in Tournament. If the game be up once, and the hounds in chase, you shall see how he will prick up his ears straight, & tickle at the sport as much as his Rider shall, and laugh so loud, that if there be many of them, they will even drown the rural harmony of the dogs. When he travels, of all Inns he loves best the sign of the silver bell, because likely there he fares best, especially if he come the first, and get the prize. He carries his ears upright, nor seldom ever lets them fall till they be cropped off, and after that as in despite will never wear them more. His tail is so essential to him, that if he lose it once he is no longer an Horse, but ever styled a Curtal. To conclude, he is a blade of Vulcan's forging, made for Mars of the best metal, and the Post of Fame to carry her tidings through the world, who if he knew his own strength would shrewdly put for the Monarchy of our wilderness.   

17. The Hawk  
IS a noble Bird, and if the Eagle be royally descended, and of the blood, he is one of the Peers of that Monarchy, that would put in for the Crown, if that line failed. The truth is, he is a companion for a Prince, who will not stick sometimes as a favour to take him by the hand, yea ' that hand which every one strives to kiss, will not disdain to kiss his foot, and be his footstool. He is such a Courtier, that a Clown will commit you a thousand absurdities in his language, but only to speak of him, much less know how to demean himself in his presence, and to give him his dues. He is so punctual and precise in all things, as he hath a peculiar language, as it were, to himself, so as hardly he hath a feather about him, that hath not his proper appellation. There is a world of distinct families sprung from the ancient stock of the Hawks, while there are no yeomen amongst them, being all daintily bred. The females, which are the wives with them, do wear the breeches, the Males having yielded up the right of superiority to them, as being the true Amazons of that species. They are chaste and loyal enough to their mates, nor will easily slain the marriage bed; but the male is fain to play the cocquain at home to look to the house, while the goodwife herself will go to the market to seek provision, or hunt for the purpose. They go in several habits, some with long sleeves, they call wings, other shorter, and so are styled short or long winged Haws, according to their habits, but so, as constant ever in the fashion they once take up. They have excellent Tailors when need is to mend their clothes, who will put you pieces so cunningly in, that they shall not be perceived. Hoods are a great fashion with them, which term they keep common with us; but for their boots, they call them Guesses, to distinguish them from ours. They are very forgetful, for being tied so fast by the heels, they never think of it, but will offer to fly away an hundred times an hour. She hath so curious a palate of her own, as she will not trust any cook to dress her fowl for her, but will plume and pick it herself with an admirable dexterity. If she be high with too much ease, and grow pursy, she will physic herself, and take a vomit, and thereby come as sound as a Bell. She hath a piercing and rolling eye in her head, but no wanton, being so honest: otherwise she were like enough to have many paramours, who goes so much abroad at her own pleasure. When she goes a hunting, she is well attended with many that go with chains about their necks, by two and two, which they call couples, where they do nothing but serve her, and put up her game; yea, the best man in the company will not refuse to toil and sweat to show her sport, and of all they take, she is first served. They are somewhat fantastical, and as their manner is, will take a toy now and then, and go straight beyond seas without a licence, or taking leave of their friends ere they go, where when they come, or return again, they are held as passengers and great travellers, and happy he who can get them into his service: they never stir no way but the bells ring. They are watched sometimes, they are so unhappy, especially when they have not sowed all their wild Oats. If they be once reclaimed from their debauchments, they prove notable convertites, and very obedient to the cure.   

18. The Elephant  
IS a huge Colossus or Mausoleon of flesh and blood to bury quick in, a certain thing they call life, which like an Artificial engine within, gives it a motion, and makes it a kind of a moving Pageant in the form of an Elephant. He is the vast Poliphemus or Gogmagog of the Wilderness, but without a Club, while his own bulk is Club enough to terrify withal. It is a hulk at land of such a burden, that when it moves it is hard to say, whether the trees pass by it, or it sail by the trees. He is as the Whale amongst Beasts that might well have wafted jonas through the Desert had it been his way to Ninive. The Trojan Horse was not so handsome and commodious to lodge the Grecian Ambuscado, as he had been within his flanks. It is a living house not tiled without, but pentised rather with oaken boards, not thatched because he hath no hair on his back. He hath no manners at all in him, for he will still be leaning on some tree or other, and is so heavy and lubberly, that sometimes the tree will fall, and he lie sprawling on the ground. He is so stiff in the hams, as he cannot make you a handsome leg, nor so much as kneel to his own Father to ask him blessing. He can yet make shift to dance if he list, but that so unhandsomely, as for shame of other witnesses he practices by Moonlight. He hath no lofty galliards with him, but all his revelling is with ground tricks, and then especially when he falls down flat, as he often doth. He is very religious, I should say superstitious rather, for they will flock in shoals to worship the Moon at full, and the Sun at his arise. He is a sturdy Porter that will carry you a whole Tower on his back, and yet will not sweat you a hair for it. He is a good Swordman, and lays about him in the wars, but cannot wield the two hand-sword nor is any Fencer at all for want of a Dagger hand toward withal. He is a notable Birder too, for he is never without his trunk in his mouth. But no Rat-catcher, while every mouse will be ready to take him by the Nose, and make him roar like himself. They are not fruitful, for they breed but once in all their life, and then bring forth but one at once: whence it is they have no Gavelkin tenor amongst them, the occasion of much strife, but every one is heir apparent to his father, but living as they do three hundred years (as they say) they are fain to stay long ere they enter into their lands. In a word, he is so intelligent, and hath so good a memory and judgement with him, that were he not where I find him amongst Beasts in our Wilderness, I should think he were some one of Ulysses crew transformed into that shape.   

19 The Gnat  
IF you take him as he is indeed, is but a point, but an Atom, but a little nothing that flies in the air: but otherwise is a vast Amphitheatre, wherein the divine wisdom takes pleasure to show his omnipotence. He hath a curious pallet of his own, which makes him so liquorish of humane blood, which this little Cannibal daily and nightly sucks at others costs. There is something doubtless in the furnace of the stomach of this little piece of creature, which causeth such a raging thirst as cannot be satisfied. It is a pleasure to see him swim in the air, where he flies without flying, or rather the air flies for him, and serves him as a Coach to convey him at pleasure. They say he hath wings, but indeed he hath none, for that which is fastened to his back so, and glued at it were unto his skin, in form of wings is no more than air, and a wind wrought to a stuff that hath no name, nor all China affords you any such, and that is it, they call his wings. And yet with them he will skim and vault in the air, like a Mountebank upon the Stage. He is a notable tilter, and with his lance, will not miss you his adversary, but smite him full on the face, and that so dexterously as you shall not know who did it, being the only recreation he takes. This is admirable in him, that the Spear which is felt by night of such as sleep, cannot be seen by day by such as wake. He never puts it in the rest in vain; for either he fetches blood indeed, or leaves some mark of his valour and dexterity behind him. He is but a Pigmy or Dwarf of himself, but being on his Stilts, he would make you believe he were some body, and so he is indeed, for he is all body and no legs. He hath a voice notwithstanding like a Giant, and if he be disposed to put it in tune, he sings you a deep tenor; and lays out such a throat withal, that shall drown a Choir of better music. The harmony they make of many parts is none of the best, the reason is, because they have no Treble amongst them, but all trouble and confusion. When they go into the wars among themselves, they keep no discipline at all, nor march all their troops in files, but pellmell rush in one upon another, and every one sounds his own Trumpet. When he sings he would make you believe he runs division, being no more than a shaking of the body, through a foolish trick he hath got, to dance when he sings, or to sing when he dances. When he lists to taste a cup of wine, he hath his wimble to pierce the the vessel that holds his Hippocras, which is likewise his Quill to sup his Possets. He is an excellent Chirurgeon, who with his lancet will not miss you a vein, though at midnight. He is no good Tobacconist, since what he takes he lets down, which makes him dog-sick. Being bred in the marshes, he is much subject to rheums and grievous defluxions of the eyes, and therefore cannot abide a smoky room, but will immediately avoid it, and be ready to break his neck out of the window for haste. They are notorious rebels, for if they rise once, they chiefly aim at the head, witness the frequent riots they make, especially about our heads and faces. He is a great whisperer, and teller of tales in our ears, but so as one is never the wiser for them. In fine, they are busy bodies where they have no thanks for their labours.   

20. The Mole  
TAkes his name from his extraction the Mould, being of the ancient family of Adam by the Mother's side. He hath no Arms at all, though he be so anciently descended, nor any legs that he can garter. For his square shoulders, he is an Atlas right, for as he shores up the heavens with his, this bears the earth on his back. He is in truth an Engineer, who is wholly occupied in Mines and Countermines. He is a great Lord, for he is master of many burrows, which meeting together with Streets and Lanes, make up a goodly City of his own, which is not paved, because the Citizens there go all barefoot. He is a good Ferrier under ground, but bolts no Rabbits out, because they are Country men, and hail-fellows well met. He hath no eyes that he can see with, because the Sun shines not in his Region, and as for Candle-light, he needs it not, because his chiefest trade consists in groping out his work. The Wasps belike do hire his vaults and Cellars to inhabit in, but what rend they pay him, or what Tenants they prove, I cannot tell: but I should think he were even as good to forgo his rent quite, as to demand it at their hands. He is the true Spirit of the earth, that causeth such Earthquakes, as would make a world of Ants believe that Doomsday were come. He is an Outlaw, and a public Bando set forth against him, with a reward of fifty Maravedes proposed to any, that shall bring him to the Lord of the Soil either dead or alive. Yea there are some Braves of purpose set a work to cut them off, and yet as brave as they are, they dare not set upon them, but creeping by stealth, and armed with many Stilettoes at once. But yet for my part, I hold them good Swizzers that would live contented in their Stoves; if they would let them alone: For alas! what would they have them to do. To keep in always, and never to look out of doors, were a hard case, while this is all the hurt I see they do.   

20. The Peacock  
IS the Paradise among Birds, but not the Bird of Paradise, because not so innocent. He is the heavenly Sphere in feathered things. For if the heavens have one Iris, he will show you many Irises at once. He is a whole Court in himself upon S. George his day, where all is nothing else but bravery. Or rather is the Knight who rides in pomp at his Instalment, attended with an honourable train so awful and obsequious of him as they even tremble at every motion of his body. He is very circumspect, but 'tis but to see who notes him, and very careful of his carriage, because he knows he hath many eyes upon him. He is no Mercer of Cheapside who keeps a constant shop at home, but a Pedlar rather that carries his pack about him, which he will open every foot, but sells no ware, he sets so great a price upon them. If you look on them, he cares for no more; but if you take off your eye once, he will be in his dumps strait, put up his pack, and go his ways. He is no Goldsmith on the other side, who utters plate and that by weight, but a right jeweller who deals with nothing else but gems, a commodity more light, but yet of greater price. The truth is, rather, he is a true Featherman of Black friars, but none buys at his shop but giddy heads; for the Ostrich is more in request, and puts him by his custom. It is a merry world with him, who always carries his Spring about him, where every Feather is a rare Tulip. When he is disposed he will keep State, but it is in the Hall only all for show, for in the Dining room there is but poor doings, because he spends all on fine clothes, and bestows nothing on his belly. He hath a Turret to his Palace, where his head stands like a Weathercock as fickle as it: for it will turn and wind on this side and that side with every puff of vanity. When he hath all his accoutrements about him, you would take him to be a tall ship well rigged and decked with streamers top and top gallant, but no Merchant man, because no substance in him. He is very spruce and neat, and can abide no sordities at all, and will make you sport to see how gingerly he will pass over a heap of dust. He is wise, but 'tis but in his own opinion, for he is such a prodigal that once a year he turns bankrupt; and then shall you hear him cry a mile off as one that had lost all. Were it not yet for his pride, he might be an Angel among Birds, whereas now he is a Lucifer, and altogether as proud as he: which may be the reason he hates the Serpent so much; for proud folks can never agree together, or else because he borrowed his head of him, for where you borrow once, you lose your friend and turn enemy.   

22. The Bat  
IS a right Amphibium; with the Mice, he is a Mouse, with Birds, a Bird; complying so with both kinds to insinuate himself with either, and by the privilege so of his double habit, makes an excellent intelligencer for either State. He loves not the City, as being, he thinks, too full of tumults. The Country he likes better, and especially the Yeoman's houses, where he finds his chiefest roast-meat. He is a great Student by day, but what he studies I know not, unless it be the black Art, for he loves darkness, and hates the light: Howsoever he keeps within doors all the day, to what other purpose I know not. He is no great traveller, for he loves not to go far from the smell of the smoke of that chimney where he was bred and borne. He is a notable good husband, who in an age will not spend you a penny in good fellowship. If he walk abroad at any time, it is towards the evening, where he will fetch you a turn or two, till he can see no more, and then goes to bed to save candlelight, and perhaps supperless too, for I am not privy with his ordinary diet. When they are Infants, and but newly weaned from the breast, they feed them with Gnats, a great Regalo with them. They are well toothed, for they bite shrewdly, the reason is, because they are not given to fruit, so as it is a rare matter to hear of a Barber sent for to them to draw a tooth. He that should see them but even now to walk on the ground like drowned Mice, and immediately got up a cockhorse, not knowing the mystery of their wings, would wonder what upstart fellows they were, so suddenly pricked up to honours. They see nothing by day, and it seems as little by night, for they will run full upon you, ere they or you be aware. Though he be no Phaeton, because his wings are not of feathers, nor a Magus because not borrowed, or any ways counterfeit or helped by art Magic, yet is he a very impostor, for who would imagine them to be made of leather? They are most sacrilegious, for they will make no conscience to rob Churches, which they do as often as they come where Lamps are, for they love Oil beyond measure. There is great aversions between them and the Ants, the reason thereof I could never learn, unless it be for that they are both amphibiums alike, while Figulus figulum odit; since the winged Ant is a mongrel between the Worm and the Fly, as he between the Bird and the Beast. In fine, though he be a Batte, he is no timber, especially of the Planetree, which he hates as he hates plain dealings, which to the virtuous and good is a great jewel.   

23. The Moss  
IS properly the mantle of the Wilderness; a Stuff that is either Tapestry, Valence, Velvet, or Plush, or rather is all of them, according to the use it is put to. It is ordinarily a winter wear, and then is most in fashion. It is wrought truly not of Silk, nor woven with Thread or Cruel, but is rather a downy stuff as will never be threadbare, though it be worn winter & summer, or whole ages. It is commonly between an Olive colour, and a Beazar, curiously mingled in the stuff; not died, but natural, and so good the colours, that they never fade or change the hue. The Birds make good use of it, who hang their houses with that Dornix, and make it serve for flock beds under their feather beds. The very rocks and stones of the desert are glad sometimes to put on jerkins of that Frieze, to defend them from the cold. It is a wool that if it could spin and hold out a thread as well as ours, it would sell as well as Cotsall wool, and make as good as any Kentish cloth. It were excellent to make Felts with, as I should think as good as any Beaver, if we had but the art to dress and handle it as it should be. He will sometimes seem to perk up to honours, while he gets him on the tops of houses, but I dare say of no pride, but charity to defend them better from the rain and weather when they wax old. He is no greatfeeder, for he will live in the barrenest places, and starve the whole wilderness beside, ere he pinch a whit. He is never young, or very old, but still keeps the same complexion he had at first, and bears his years excellent well; a good Spring helps him nothing, nor a hard winter impairs him a whit. He is ever in good state for soul and body no doubt, who seems to be so mortified a creature, as to be always ready for the tomb, and yet never comes there, but lives for ever, as one may say, in this very life, enjoying an endless rest. He is most constant in himself, and hates inconstancy in all others, so as by his will he will have nothing to do with any such, as appears by the saying, that a rolling stone gathers no Moss. To conclude, he hath a good nature with him, and truly loves where he takes.   

24. The Ant  
IS a kind of Serpent, a Serpendo, not on his belly, as pleading not guilty to that curse, but with his feet, and therefore a footman right. They are great thiefs, and live upon rapine, especially in filching of corn, and if they lived in any other well governed Commonwealth than theirs, they should be sure to be laid in the jail for it: but with them all is fish that comes to the net. They have no King, because they will have none, and that is all the reason they will yield for it. They like better of the Republics, then of Monarchies, for so they may come happily to shuffle their own cards themselves. They have no gentry among them, they live like Swissers lazing in their Stoves or Caves under ground. They are true Netherlanders indeed, because their Country lies under the ground, and somewhat northerly, because likely they see not the sun for half a year together. In stead of Ambassadors, they have their agents abroad, true agents indeed as full of action. Their Commonwealth is not governed by the prescripts of Solon, or those of Lycurgus, whose laws were civil, but rather by the laws of their corrupt nature. For though they live now in the time of grace, yet have they no benefit thereof, being Atheists all. And if there be any that have any feeling of God, it is but while the judgements of God light on him. They scarcely heed any of his precepts, more than crescite & multiplicamini, which they truly observe to the letter. Whence it is their commonwealth is so populous, that if they were not very industrious, they might starve for aught I know. They have no state houses amongst them, because no buildings there but caves in the ground, according to the fashion of that Country. The Boors will assemble together to betake themselves to several offices for the public good; some to carry corn to their granaries, where a single grain is accounted a load for a sturdy Ant, and he shall brag as much of it, as ours shall do for the carrying half a seam of wheat, and if one cannot, two will join together, and carry it between them. They go sometimes to the wars, but gain more by craft then down right blows. They have no flying armies, because they are foot all, and have no wings, but they have their running Armies, and then it is when they show their heels. In fine, they have many enemies, but like the Fox, fare best when they are most cursed.   

25. The Ivy,  
WHether a tree, or what it is I know not, at least hath great alliance with them, and some affinity, as having often matched with many of their stocks: but is indeed itself a fatal and unlucky family to join with, as being the ruin of many of them. He hath great ambition to link himself with the ancientest houses he can get into, and so kind where he takes, as he kills with kindness. He is a sure friend, for he never leaves one, till he hath brought him to the last cast. He shows himself to be very amorous, as being full of his embraces, but they are traitorous compliments. He reverenceth Antiquity much, and will be always in the gravest company. He hath the honour to be joined with the Bays in Poets wreathes, in their laureate acts. He is a right Noun Adjective, that cannot stand without his Substantive; but yet makes a foul Solecism, that never agrees with him in Case, because without; nor in Gender, because of a different kind; nor Number, because the one is singular, the other plural, being twenty to one. He is a very Leech, that sucks the blood out of the veins, and soaks up the sap and humour so, as the party grows old, and will decay in a short time. There are some Martialists amongst them, as appear by their valour, who are so warlike, as to assault Castles, scale the walls, and mount the battlements thereof. There is great contestation between him and the Holly, and much partaking on both sides about precedence, and taking the upper place, which no Herald will or can, I think, take up. He is all heart, you would think, that makes him so kind as he seems to be, where every leaf is a token thereof; yet he is indeed a very dissembler, and a right parasite, who can soothe and claw so for his own ends, using a dumb Eloquence, and expressing with signs and tokens only, what his tongue, if he had it, would do.   

26. The Daw  
IS a pert companion, and a right pedant, because he goes in black, and wants the gravity that coat requires. He is a Linguist because a man of his tongue, but no Latinist, because his K is no letter in that Alphabet. He is a very spalt, that carries his head so like a shuttlecock, and no marvel, who hath such a shuttle brain of his own. He will stalk you up and down as he were some body, and so he is, for he hath a body, and that is all. He seems to be a proud jack, for what, I know not, unless for his Buckram jacket, which he takes perhaps to be right Satin. He goes very spruce, in his Spanish leather boots, but black, because suitable he thinks; and is so neat, that he wears gamashes over them, of what colour he cares not, though they be red, for so he shall be more conspicuous. He hath none of the Dove in him, for though he be simple, he is not innocent, nor is a Serpent, because he hath no malice in him, and yet of the two, is more knave than fool. He is very ambitious, who always aims at the sovereignty of the highest Steeples, which he uses for Towers to look about him: But is base in other things, who for his Tabernacle, is content to put his head in a hole. The bells he cares not for a whit, who hath a bell of his own, which when he list to ring out indeed, they will rattle such a peal, that will even drown the bells of Osney. They say he is no Gentleman borne, but a yeoman, and therefore is called plain jack, but they do him wrong, for he will be very tame & gentle; while it is only his much familiarity with us, that makes him called so: For the truth is, the Chaugh, the Rooks, and they were all of a family once; but now are three distinct houses, giving the Bill for Arms, but with some difference, whereby the Daw appears to be of the elder house who hath his without any difference at all. In fine, I hold him a good companion, and as the world goes now adays, an honest knave.   

7. The Snake  
OR Serpent, is that creature that deceived our first Parent Eve. For his skin, he is a right Panther, but yet hath nothing near so sweet a breath that ever I could hear of. He seems to carry a whole heaven upon his back, it being so variously distinguished here and there with little speckled clouds, dispersed all over in a s●ren night. He hath an ill tongue, that cannot speak a good word of any one, and a shrewd wit with his ill tongue, for between jest and earnest, he will sting one to the quick, and the worst is, they are such cruel jests he breaks, that they even fester where, they light. He is a right Forester, for he never goes without his forked Arrow in a readiness, to shoot and wound whom he list, and is so churlish in his office, as it is but a word and a blow with him; and is so full of his windings and turnings to this side and that side, as one knows not where to have him. He is some great malefactor belike, for he lurks continually in holes, as if he durst not show his face: but it is indeed to work some mischief when he sees his time. He is neat in his habit, & when it is a twelvemonth old, changeth it for a new. He hath no sleeves to his coat, and yet is straight put to it, while he gets it off; but he cares not what pains he takes, so he may be fine, & have a new one. He is esteemed to be devour, while he mortifies his body so much, for he cares not what they do with it, so they spare his head, the better part, where chiefly his Soul resides. He is cold of complexion, but not good of condition, who spits poison. It is true he hath an ill name, whereas, were it not for his sting which hath made him to lose his credit so, I see not but for his silver Coat and other habiliments he hath, he might be received into Lady's laps, and be hanged about their necks instead of a Carcanet.   

28. The Crab  
IS an Apple as well as the rest, though for his sour condition, he seems to be shut out for an harsh companion. This is the rural Crab only, whereas the Town Crab is of better respect, as more civil, and known to be of a sweeter nature. He is a right Forester, who is never seen without a green Suit, of so good a colour, as will hardly wear yellow. He is a Painter right, not the Apprentice that makes no faces, but the Master himself, who will make you make a face. He is very rich, who hath so good a stock with him, whereof he is no niggard, that so freely communicates himself to every one, that will but join with him, nor shall they ever thrive indeed or fructify well till then. He would fain turn Vintner, and utter Wine, Cider at least, but 'tis but Verges, and he no more than a plain Chandler. They should be Scholars, for they have great Seminaries amongst them, but have no several classes, that makes them stand so without order, till they ascend to the Universities, and then as Graduates they take degrees, and keep their ranks, according to their standing. He is a general man, and will close in with every man, but 'tis for his ends only to be respected, for of himself, he knows none will regard him. He is a very Hydra, for cut off his head, and he will have three for one, and those much better than the old: or take him for a Martialist standing in his file, he is a lame Soldier with stumped Arms, wrapped up in searcloths, and this after a hot skirmish, when they are put to it, for then likely they are fetched off. They are not strong, but yet great bearers; for they will bring forth many children at a birth, but those so weak, as they never come to any growth. If he take upon him to make a Tart, he will be as good as his word, for you shall be sure to have him tart enough, and so stern that all the sugared speeches in the world will not qualify him. Though the Pippin be held to be the king of Apples, yet is the Crab of an ancienter family than he; as he from whence the Pippin fetches his chief blood, and derives his family; while the Crab is descended from Adam's time, from father to son, linea recta, without any bastardy or attainder of blood. He is a right Britain, and true native of this Land, and not a Gascoigne come in with the Conqueror; which is the reason they desire to match into his stock; whereas the Gascoignes of courtesy only made free denizens, are nothing so regarded for antiquity. He is a very Critic, who sharply censures every thing, but it is no matter while no man regards what he saith, being known to have no judgement with him. In a word, though he hath lived thus long, he is a man of no experience, nor hath much knowledge in him, which is so much the better.   

29. The Ape  
IS a Mimic made by nature to play the Ape for his own ends: the truth is, he is a true Buffoon, as made for mirth. The sport is when he and his Cousin Monkey meet together, for they are somewhat of kin, but now there having been so many removes between them, their kindred is so worn out, as they are but quater cousins. He is a Savage in the Wilderness, and in the City he is every thing. In the Wilderness he contents himself with the Coat that Nature hath dressed him with; in the City he will be, as occasion serves: He hath notable cheeks of his own to make a Trumpeter, were it not for a great imperfection he hath, that he cannot hold his breath so long from chattering with his teeth. He is a very sloven, yet he never eats without his cut finger-gloves: He hath but an ill-favoured foot, and a worse leg. It is to be feared he is much troubled with the stone, for he is a great sitter. He would make a good horseman, for he never gauls himself. He hath a good wit, but the great agility and dexterity of his fingers is beyond bounds. Whereas others have pockets in their slops likely, he hath his in his Chaps. He should be a Poet, for he hath a running head of his own, as appears by the many pranks he plays. He is no Musician, because he cannot keep an even stroke; and which is worse would break all the strings, were it only to hear them knap asunder: To conclude, his best trade is a true Comedian, to play a Zany or Pantalon on the Stage, which he will do very naturally, and to the life indeed.   

30. The Owl  
Dear to Athens, sacred to Minerva, and the Muse as it were of nightly lucubrations, is yet to others in the day held to be a Prodigy in nature: but portends no more than a massacre of Mice. He is ever buckled as it were for a journey; for he hath always his riding cloak on, his hood with glasses for his eyes to look out at, in the spanish fashion. When he perches on a tree, he sits like a Prince, in his chair of estate, to give audience, which he doth full sore against his will, while every one hath his own saying, and he without any other reply, feign to consent with his nod. For he is a man of few words, and when he speaks, he shows to have a hollow voice; unless sometimes when he puts it forth, for than he squeaks right out, and even screeches again. He loves hunting well, and takes great pleasure to hollow to the hounds. But for hawking, he hath no maw to it; nor will once come near that sport, for fear he prove an Actaeon, and become the subject of the game. For quickness of sight, though he yield to the Eagle in gazing on the sun by day, without dazzling his eyes, yet he will challenge him by moonlight. He would make a notable Watchman at midnight, as needing no other Bells alarm than his own voice, nor Mastiff dog than his own gripe. Though most unfit for a Sentinel in wars, because he cannot change his watchword, while every one that could but hollow, might pass for him. But I should think him apt for a quiet life to pray his nocturnes in the night, leaving the prime and other hours to the Lark, and the rest of the choir of Birds, to sing their Benedicite omnes volucres coeli, to their common Creator.   

31. The Snail  
IS a Gentleman every inch of him; as ancient surely as Adam's time; while for Arms, he hath had a house for Coat ever since, which he bears to this day. He seems very stately in the manner of his gate, but he is not proud. He is cold of complexion, because phlegmatic, which makes him so slow of his pace. He is a Scholar, for he keeps his study, though he have no books. He is no Academic, though a Philosopher, because not sociable, but rather a Peripatetic, because a walker; but especially a Stoic, because he carries all whatsoever he hath on his back. If he were confined to his five miles according to the statute, it would trouble him nothing, while he would travail where he list, yet not incur the forfeiture, or the penalty of the law. He hath indeed a certain house of his own, but no settled one, and a fair porch to it, but no door. He is a freeholder, and no tenant at will, or for any term that is less than his life. There is no covenant servants amongst them, but are householders every one. They have no constant Cities of their own, while their houses join not one to another, as others do. Though they wander much, and gad abroad, yet they are not included in the Statute of rogues. The Snail and the Periwinkle are much alike, with this difference, that the Snail with pains carries his house on his back, and the Periwinkle, house and all, is carried with the waves with ease, as held up by the chin. In fine, they are at peace with all the world, and have no enemies at all; and so like the Hamburgers, trade and travail where they please; unless in a time of famine, when perhaps for better food, they come to be snapped up, and made good prize.   

32. The Swallow  
IS the little spirit of the air, who will be here, and there, and every where, in the twinkling of an eye. He loves to dwell in the City for society's sake. His house is built in the manner of the Antipodes, in the vulgar opinion; for as their feet are opposite to ours, of consequence their houses must needs be turned upside down; and so are theirs. They have no windows, or posterns behind their houses, but all their light, egress, and regress, is at the porch only, where they keep watch with their bills, both night and day, for fear of foreign invasion. Their fare is light and easy of digestion, which makes them so active and nimble as they are; not of worms, for that they hold too gross and earthly: not of corn, not to put the world to so much cost: nor of flesh, for they cannot endure the flesh pots of Egypt. They hawk, hunt, and fish where they list, as being the Rangers of the Forests, allowed by nature through the privilege of their wing. He must needs fly well, that feeds on flies, who is so fleet, that he will stay by the way for no man's pleasure, for he is always set on the spur, and, as it were, the Post of the Eagles Court. The difficulty is, he can hardly stay so long in a place, as to take his message ere he goeth, so tickle he is. They are notable Physicians, or Chirurgeons, which you will, for they will cure you the blind, as readily with the herb Chelidonia, as cause it with their dung. In fine, they are welcome guests when they come first, because they bring in the Summer with them; and never depart without tears when Winter comes.   

33. The Oak  
IS the Atlas of the forest trees, for though the Pine and Cedar have a loftier crest, and bear the head more high, yet not so full a breast, nor with so square a pair of shoulders. Before Noah's time, it was a good provision for a frugal family. It is even a market of corn and fruit; and a very prodigy among trees, for whereas some have leaves, and no fruit, some fruit and leaves; the Oak hath both. If iron were to be sought for among trees, it would be found in the heart of Oak. He is a tree more generous than the Walnut, while the Walnut will endure to be beaten by every boy, and his nuts to be taken from him: but the Oak will not part with his, till he let them go of his own accord: he bears his years beyond measure, for let him alone, and he will out pass Methusalems' days, and oft times wears out many ages and generations of all his neighbours round about him. The Eagle willingly will perch upon no other tree than him. He is no jew, for he loves Pork well, who feeds so many at his own cost. He is very stout, that stands so lustily to all weathers, nor were it good to anger him, for as formicis sua bilis inest, he hath his gall, yet otherwise patient enough; for if you make him a Mill-post, he will patiently bear all; turn him to boards, and he will humbly lie at your feet, and suffer himself to be trampled on. And which is all that possibly can be required, he makes himself a very Holocaust, while he is sacrificed in the fire, and turned to ashes.   

34. The Dog  
IS a fit Groom for a Prince's chamber, because loyal and trusty. He is a fit companion for a Lady, if he can but creep into her glove, for than shall he be taken up into her lap; yea, her bosom too, and haply be kissed, as a better thing. If he be a right Island, and be put into the Lion's cut, he is then no more her servant, but her Guardian and Keeper rather; at least he will be her Gentle man-usher, to lead her in and out. If she have no children to play with of her own, he is like to be her only sport, without the which she were no Lady. As we have our Utopia, the Dogs have an I'll likewise, but not set down in Mercator; therefore lost perhaps, or not yet discovered. He is a great harkener after news, and therefore searches the privy pockets of all the Dogs he meets with, perhaps to understand some tidings from the I'll of Dogs. They had once a language sure, as well as Serpents, but lost their Alphabet as well as they; save S and R, which still they keep. He is a slave by condition, and made for waiting, and not for rule and command; for he is most imperious and intolerable, where he feels any power and authority in himself, a great token of his baseness. He is not for suits of law, because he cannot attend a legal course, but will seek to right himself out of hand. He never makes any set duels, or points any field, for all his valour is showed in hot blood; they are frays he makes, not single combats: yet if they be set on by others, and have their Seconds, for so they must; they are Tyrants for fierceness. They are very choleric, and great swearers, but their oaths are peculiar to themselves. In fine, I hold him a good housekeeper, though otherwise of no hospitality, that is so ready to shake up folks that enter in.   

35. The Parat  
IS the jew among Birds, because he hath no proper language of his own, that he can speak, but what he learns where he is bred and borne. Yet India is his proper Palestin, that speaks the language he should speak, which because it is so hard, he hath the lesser difficulty, to frame and accommodate himself to our Languages in Europe. He hath the bigness of our Doves, but nothing near the candour and simplicity of that bird: for if he be a fool, he is also a knave, being waggish and unhappy enough sometimes. He is a companion for great personages, & therefore is taken up in Court, to be the Prince's jester: where he will be very gay in apparel. He wears about his neck a Collar not of S S, for that will not be allowed him, but rather a white silk Rope, which is the cause belike, the Pages so upbraid him for it, in saying, A rope for Parat. He loves all nuts, but Almonds beyond measure: so as by his good will, he will talk of nothing else: When he awakes, he opens the windows of his eyes, and begins to stretch himself, now one leg, and then another, like a dotterel, than quivering with his wings, and shrinking in his head into his shoulders in manner of an Italian shrug, shake his ears; and then is he up, for all that day. It is well he hath such a thick short neck of his own; else you would verily believe, he would break it an hundred times a day, could he piece it together as often: For he will desperately cast himself from the upper Rope, and dexterously take hold of another beneath with foot or hand, and oftentimes with his very teeth. He is indeed the Ape of Birds, and with his tongue will counterfeit more London cries, than any Ape shall play tricks. He hath a reasonable wit, and a better memory, but cannot a word of the book; for he is all by rote, and will con very well by heart. Finally, he is full of his wagers, that if he used the Cockpit, he would be quickly beggared, for he will lay twenty pound at every word, when he hath not a penny in his purse.   

36. Tobacco.  
IS a sovereign plant of an active spirit, which being set on fire, mounts to the upper region of the brain, and there plays Rex: Where like a Lord of Misrule, calling the whimsies round about him, they all play revel rout together, and thence like a little Satan, he sends them here and there, as spirits up and down to work wonders. It is a spice that comes from India, now grown in more request than Pepper is; but will be sure to pepper them that take it over much. It makes a very chimney of the body; else why do they wash the tonnell so with Sack. He that useth it while he plays at cards, shall be sure to have a flush at all times. It is the very incense of Vulcan, fumed to his honour in a thurible of Cley. It is a Meteor, that being set on fire, makes the Ignis f●tuus in men's brains; whereby they cannot find sometimes the right way out of doors. It is the milk of Tellus, which suckles Mortals, with as many tears, as earthen Pipes. It is immortal in a sort, which lives so in his Ashes; and which after death, is so beneficial to man. The Physicians hold him an Empiric, and but that he finds many friends in Court, he had been exploded from the College long since. They would fain put him out of practice, because they say he is no Graduate, nor ever commenced in any Act of Physic: but they strive in vain; for so long as he is so reasonable in his fees, he will have more practice, though not so full of gain. In fine, had he but discourse to set forth himself, and the infinite cures he works, Galen and Hypocrates might break their Urinals, and carry his after him.   

37. The Bay-tree  
IS the Laurel, so dear to Apollo, for his Daphney's sake; so privileged by nature, that even Thunder and lightning, are here even taxed of partiality, and will not touch him for respects sake, as a sacred thing. He is a Scholar, and studies standing, for I could not find that ever he sat to his book: And when we see them stand so thick together in a knot or cluster, than it is they make their Repetitions of the Lessons of Apollo. He is an enemy to fire, because they both are hot and choleric by nature. He is fit for Halls and stately rooms, where if there be a Wedding kept, or such like Feast, he will be sure to take a place more eminent than the rest. He is a notable smell-feast▪ and is so good a fellow in them, that almost it is no feast without him. He is a great Companion with the Rosemary, who is as good a Gossip in all Feasts, as he a trencherman. He is made, as it were, all of tongues, so as had he fit Organs to them, as teeth and lips, it is like with his eloquence, he would change the whole world, and make them believe and do what he list. Of all Fish, he is very much taken with the Spitch cock; for than he will be his own Cook, and dress it, and make the sauce himself. He is fresh and lively, for he is always green, and bears his years well, for he will look you as fresh at sixty years as at fifteen. He is a man of excellent example, who leaves so good an odour behind him; yet he is by Religion a Pagan; addicted to the worshipping of the feigned gods, and much versed in that Theology; nor is he altogether free from superstition; for he will make you believe that if you put his leaves but under your pillow, you shall be sure to have true dreams. In fine, there is none without some faults; but yet take him with all his faults, and in all the world for some things, you shall hardly find his fellow.   

38. The Vine  
IS that creeping worm, which with his liquours fills the head with spirits. It is a Limbeck which distils sweet liquors into those little bottles hanging so in clusters. It is the Cloud that holds the showers which falls so plenteously in Poets brains. Bacchus makes him his bosomed friend, while he tenderly hugs him in his arms. Mars makes use of no other Squire then him, to put his sword into his hand, which he readily doth, and works you wonders. He is witty and ingenious, and very learned, because well endowed with Sciences, who yearly turns over many a leaf to good purpose. And though outwardly he show to be but a plain fellow, he is rich, because he hath his vintage every year, which puts many Crowns into his purse. He is a good stourier in Winter, that hath his Vaults of Wine so under ground: But yet prodigal enough thereof in Summer, when like a good fellow, he brings his Hog's heads to light. When he is in his Cups he is very brisk, and sparkles again. He is the Master Scavenger of the City of man's body, and will scour their gutters excellent well. There are many Counterfeits that pass for Wine, as Cider, Perry, and the like; but are not right, because they derive not from the true ancient stock of the Vines, who are a great family descended from the time of No: Who for Arms bear certain branches, vert, pendent, charged with the leaves of the same, in a yard, instead of a field. He is not humble, for he cannot abide to be trampled under foot; and yet is forced to endure it, that costs him his life; but riseth again to have the honour to be brought to the Prince's Table.   

39 The Fox  
Seems in the Senate of the rest of beasts to be as grave as any of them: but is indeed a sly and crafty Merchant. He is the Davus in Esop's Comedies, and the best jests in all those Interludes are fathered upon him. He hath the Monopoly of the best blades in his hands; witness his figure engraven thereon, forbidding all to sell them without his stamp. He is so crafty a companion, that he will not be drunk, because he will not be overtaken himself, but still lies in wait to catch others: and therefore when men are overtaken with drink, they are said to be foxed. He is a true Purveyor, because he provides and takes, not for the King, but for himself, upon no price, and therefore is hated and cursed where he comes. He makes no conscience of any shifts; & for a Goose, or a Duck, or such a matter, it is but a Scholar's trick with him to amend his commons with, and so passes it over without any scruple at all, unless he be taken in the manner, and then proves it a hanging matter, which halters the case quite. He is a great Lecturer, but reads to a company of Geese only, when he will be sure to be well paid for his pains, with a good supper, where some one of his Auditory are present. He is very neat in his habit, for he always carries his brush with him, especially when he rides, for than he carries it not at his pommel, for that were not sightly, but carries it still at the Crupper. He hath a sly look, and a notable leering eye of his own; and so good a markman, as likely he never misseth his aim. For his eye, he would make a notable Gunner, but that he cannot away with a piece, especially if it lie in Ambascado, for that puts him quite out of his play. He cannot abide a pack of dogs, which if he should, would cost him his life. He hath his forts and holes to retire into, where he fears nothing but countermines to oppose and confront his; for than he is brought to a parley with his enemies, and fain to yield to hard conditions: In fine, were the world turned honest again, and all knavery banished thence, it would be found in a Fox skin.   

40. The Primrose  
IS the principal of Roses, because the prime and first in her precedence; as the Harbinger of Flora, the Queen of flowers. She is the true and proper rose of the Wilderness, where she is in her element the earth, as fishes in the sea, and fowls in the air. She is the lowly and humble flower, and if she want the sweet perfumes and Civits' the other Roses have, she is supplied with a sweeter odour of meekness, which they want through the churlish guard about them. She is very courteous, and disdains not the lap of the Forest Nymphs that greedily seek after her, as the Primitias of the Spring. They make a dainty show with them, when they sit familiarly together with their handmaids the leaves: But when they take their sister Violets into their company, than they make an admirable enamel. She is a common Prostitute to eyes, but no Strumpet, because thereby she loseth no Virginity she hath, but still remaineth humbly chaste in her mother's lap, till she be violently snatched away, and ravished thence, keeping her integrity still, so long as forced against her will. She keeps willingly in the wilderness, to shun the company of men, but yet is no Anchoress, because no recluse, but a right Hermitress, inhabiting in the deserts. Their habit and dressing is suitable to the Spring, and the summer's approach. In fine, I could wish the Primrose were restored to her former state again; for than I should hope the golden age wherein she flourished in times past, would happily return again.   
FINIS.  

A TABLE Of the Contents of each several Character contained in this Book.  

1 THe Lyon.  
2 The Squirrel.  
3 The Bramble.  
4 The Stag.  
5 The Golden Mine.  
6 The Hedgehog.  
7 The Pike.  
8 The Rock.  
9 The Goat.  
10 The Echo.  
11 The Lake.  
12 The Coalpit.  
13 The Bear.  
14 The Mustardseed.  
15 The Goose.  
16 The Horse.  
17 The Hawk.  
18 The Elephant.  
19 The Gnat.  
20 The Mole.  
21 The Peacock.  
22 The Bat.  
23 The Moss.  
24 The Ant.  
25 The Ivy.  
26 The Daw.  
27 The Snake.  
28 The Crab.  
29 The Ape.  
30 The Owl.  
31 The Snail.  
32 The Swallow.  
33 The Oak.  
34 The Dog.  
35 The Parrot.  
36 Tobacco.  
37 The Bay tree.  
38 The Vine▪  
39 The Fox.  
40 The Primrose.   
FINIS.