FANTASTICS: Serving for A PERPETVALL Prognostication. Descants of 1 The World. 2 The Earth. 3 Water. 4 Air. 5 Fire. 6 Fish. 7 Beasts. 8 Man. 9 Woman. 10 Love.. 11 Money. 12 The Spring. 13 Summer. 14 Harvest. 15 Winter. 16 The 12. Months 17 Christmas. 18 Lent. 19 Good Friday. 20 Easter day. 21 Morning. 22 The 12. Hours. 23 Midnight. 24 The Conclusion. LONDON, Printed for Francis Williams. 1626. To the Worshipful and worthy Knight, Sir MARK IVE of Rivers Hall in Essex, N.B. wisheth on earth hearts ease, and heaven hereafter. SIR, your many favours, and my small deserts, make me study how to discharge myself of ingratitude, which not knowing better how to do, then by the labour of my spirit, to show the nature of my love, I have thought good to present your patience with this little volume of varieties, in which, though the Title promise no matter of great worth, yet it may be, if you peruse it, you shall find somewhat that you may like in it: howsoever it be, it may serve you in the Winter, to keep you from sleep by the fire side, and in the Summer in shady walks, to pass away idle time. In brief, wishing it of that nature, that might come near the worthiness of your acceptation, I leave it with my better service, to the favour of your good discretion: and so in all humility rest, Yours affectionately to command, N. B. To the Reader. IT was my hap of late, walking thorough the fields, to light upon a piece of paper, in which I found a kind of discourse, set down upon an imagination of midnight. By whom it was written, I know not, but by whomsoever, I liked it so well, that wishing myself able to do half so well, I fell into an humour of imitating the vein, so near as I could, in description of the twelve hours, the twelve months, and some special days in the year: how well to your liking, I know not; but my labour herein hath not been little, & my desire much, I mean to do well; which if I have not, I can be but sorry, that my dull wit hath not been fed with a more pleasing humour: but if you be able to judge of the worth of it, and like it, I shall be more glad than proud of it: howsoever it be, hoping of your kindness, I leave it to your like censure; & so, loath to entertain your patience with a long tale to little purpose, I thus conclude, and in affection and discretion, I rest, Your friend, N. B. FANTASTICS. Descants of the Quarters, Months, and hours of the year, with other matters. The World. TOuching my opinion of the world, I will tell you as briefly as I can, what I think of it: a place wherein are contained the variety of things: Men think, womans talk, beasts feed, birds fly, fishes swim, and worms creep: air pierceth, winds blow, cold nippeth, fire heateth, grass groweth, and time withereth. Wealth is a jewel, and poverty is a plague: Conscience is a charge, and care is a burden. Pride is a Lord of misrule, and beauty is painted. Mars must yield to Mercury, and Diana is a strange woman: Cupid is an idle invention, and all is as good as nothing. Love is more talked of then proved. Covetousness the key of wit, Nature the trouble of Reason, and Will the master of the Senses. Beauty is an eye sore, Learning a task, Valour a heat, and reason a study. A King, a great man: a Soldier, a stout man: a Courtier, a fine man: a Lawyer, a wise man: a Merchant, a rich man: a Beggar a poor man: and an honest man, an honest man. Fair weather, is cheerful: foul weather is melancholic. The day is lightsome, and the night is darksome. Meat is necessary, and sleep is easeful, and drink doth well, and exercise doth not amiss. Law is good, and punishment is meet, and reward would be thought on: and fools would be pitied, and so. Opinions differ, and judgements vary, and Time travails, and Truth is a virtue, and wisdom an honour: and honour is a title, and Grace a gift, and Patience a blessing, and Content a Kingdom: and so from one thing to another, a trouble in all. A kingdom full of care: wit full of trouble power full of charge: youth full of action: Age full of grief: and none content with his condition: wishing in one, willing in another: thinking in one, doing in another: working in one, crossing in another: thoughts, words, and deeds, so different in their effects, that for aught I can see in it, when I have well considered of it, I can say thus much of it, He is happy that hath not to do with it. And not to dwell too long upon it, to conclude my opinion briefly of it, I hold it the Labyrinth of wit, and the toil of understanding, the pilgrimage of patience, and the purgatory of reason. Farewell. Love.. TOuching my judgement of Love, it is, if it be any thing, such a thing to speak of, that to tell truly, I know not well what to say of it: but yet what I imagine of it, I will tell you: at the first, I guess, it was an old nothing, to exercise wit in idleness, and now, is a kind of new-nothing to feed folly with imagination: but be it what it will be, or may be, this wanton Love that this world is too full of, whatsoever it is, thus much I find of it: It is begotten by the eyes, bred in the brains, walks in the tongue, grows with the flesh, and dies in an humour: and this ill commonly doth trouble wit, hinder Art hurt Nature, disgrace Reason lose time, and spoil substance: It crosseth wisdom, serveth Beauty, and sotteth Folly: weakeneth strength, and baseth Honour: It is only wiles darling, Patience trial, and Passions torture, the pleasure of melancholy, and the play of madness, the delight of varieties, and the deviser of vanities: The Virgin's crack, and the Widow's cross: The Bachelor's bane and the married man's Purgatory: the Young man's misery and the Ageds consumption: The abuse of Learning, the ground of Envy, the stirrer of wrath, and the cause of mischief: The disquiet of the mind, the distractor of the Wit, the disturber of the Senses, and the destruction of the whole body. A feigned god, an idle fancy, a kind of fury, and in some kind a frenzy. To conclude, I hold it an Invention of idleness, and an Imagination of Indiscretion: the plague of people, an'dt he mock of the Word. Farewell. Money. TO tell you mine opinion of money, I think it the Monarch of the world: the maintainer of Pride, the Nurse of Covetousness, the Steward of Lechery, the sour of Sedition, the cause of war, the sack of a City, and the overthrow of a Camp: The Gluttons purveyor, and the Drunkard's Cupbearer: the thief's tempter, and the Hangman's Master: The misguider of Wit, the corrupter of Conscience, the blinder of Reason, and the overthrow of Honour: the Usurer's God, the poor man's oppression, the Lawyer's hope, & the Laborers hire: doth good to few, but hurt to many: pulls down the Churches, and builds the fair houses, makes the Prodigal an Ape, and the miser dogged: makes Bridges over the Sea, and fire in men's brains: fetches the Beasts from the Wilderness, and the Birds from the Air: it draws fancies out of fine Wits, and eloquence from learned mouths: It makes friends foes, and enemies friends: It serves all professions, all qualities, and conditions, from the King to the Beggar. In sum, not to talk too much of it, having so little of it: I thus conclude my opinion of it: I think it a necessary dross, and a dangerous mettle, the relief of the honest, and the ruin of the wicked. Farewell. The Spring. IT is now Spring: a Time blest of the Heavens for the comfort of the Earth, now begins the Sun to give light unto the Air, and with the replexion of his beams to warm the cold earth: the Beasts of the woods look out into the plains, and the fishes out of the deep run up into the shallow waters, the breeding fowls fall to building of their nests, and the senseless creatures gather life into their bodies, the Birds tune their throats to entertain the Sun rising, and the little flies begin to flock in the air: now Cupid begins no neck his Arrows and sharp their heads: and Venus, if she be, will be known what she is: Now Pallas and her Muses try the Poets in their Pamphlets, and Diana, if she be to been seen, is a grace to her fairest Nymph: Time is now gracious in Nature, & Nature in time: the Air wholesome, and the earth pleasant, and the sea not uncomfortable: the Aged feel a kind of youth, & Youth, the Spirit full of life: it is the messenger of many pleasures: the Courtier's progress, and the Farmer's profit: the Labourers Harvest, and the Beggar's Pilgrimage. In sum, there is much good to be spoken of this time: but to avoid tediousness, I will thus conclude of it: I hold it in all that I can see in it, the jewel of time, and the joy of Nature. Farewell. Summer. IT is now Summer, & Zephyrus with his sweet breath cools the parching beams of Titan the leaves of the trees are in whisper talks of the blessings of the air, while the Nightingale is tuning her throat to refresh the weary spirit of the Travayler: Flora now brings out her Wardrobe, and richly embroydreth her green Apron: the Nymphs of the Woods in consort with the Muses sing an Aue to the Morning, and a Vale to the Sun's setting: the Lambs and the Rabbettes run at base in the sandy Warrens, and the Blow lands are covered with corn: the stately Hart is at Layre in the high wood, while the Hare in a furrow sits washing of her face: The Bull makes his walk like a Master of the field, and the broad-headed Ox bears the Garland of the market: the Angler with a sly takes his pleasure with the fish, while the little Merline hath the Partridge in the foot: the Honeydews perfume the Air, and the Sunny-showers are the earth's comfort: the Greyhound on the plain makes the fair course: & the wel-mouthed Hound makes the Music of the woods: the Battle of the field is now stoutly fought, and the proud Rye must stoop to the Sickle: The Carters whistle chéeres his fore-horse, and drink and sweat is the life of the Labourer: Idle spirits are banished the limits of Honour, while the studious brain brings forth his wonder: the Azure Sky shows the Heaven is gracious, and the glorious Sun glads the spirit of Nature: The ripened fruits show the beauty of the earth, and the brightness of the air the glory of the heavens: In sum, for the world of worth I find in it, I thus conclude of it: I hold it a most sweet season, the variety of pleasures, and the Paradise of love. Farewell. Harvest. IT is now Harvest, and the Lark must lead her young out of the nest: for the scythe and the Sickle will down with the grass and the corn: Now are the hedges full of Berries, & the highways full of Rogues, and the lazy Limbs must ●●éepe out their dinner: The Ant and the Bee work for their winter provision, and after a frost, the Grasshopper is not seen: Butter, milk, and cheese, are the Labourers diet, and a pot of good Beer quickens his spirit. If there be no plague, the people are healthy, for continuance of motion is a preservation of nature: The fresh of the morning, and the cool of the Evening are the times of Court walks; but the poor traveller treads out the whole day: Malt is now above wheat with a number of mad people, and a fine shirt is better than a Freeze jerkin: Pears and Plums now ripen apace, and being of a watery substance, are cause of much sickness: The pipe and the taber now follow the Fairs, and they that have any money, make a gain of their markets. Bucks now are in season, and Partridges are Rowen-taild, & a good Retriver is a Spaniel worth the keeping. In sum, it is a time of much worth, when, if God be well pleased, the world will thrive the better. And to conclude, this is all that I will say of it; I hold it the Heaven's Bounty, the Earth's Beauty, and the World's Benefit, Farewell. Winter. IT is now Winter, and Boreas begins to fill his cheeks with breath, shaketh the tops of the high Cedars, and hoiseth the waves of the Sea, to the danger of the Sailor's comfort: Now is the Earth nipped at the heart with a cold, and her Trees are disrobed of their rich apparel: there is a glass set upon the face of the Waters, and the Fishes are driven to the bottoms of the deep: The Usurer now sits leapt in his furs, and the poor makes his breath, a fire to his finger's ends: Beauty is masked for fear of the air, and youth runs to Physic for Restoratives of Nature: The Stag roars for loss of his strength, and the Flea makes his Castle in the wool of a blanket: Cards and Dice now begin their harvest, and good Ale and Sack are the cause of civil wars: Machiavil and the Devil are in counsel upon destruction, and the wicked of the world make haste to hell: Money is such a Monopoly, that he is not to be spoken of, and the delay of suits is the death of hope. In itself it is a woeful Season, the punishment of Nature's pride, and the play of misery. Farewell. january. IT is now january, and Time begins to turn the wheel of his Revolution, the Woods begin to lose the beauty of their spreading boughs, and the proud Oak must stoop to the Axe: the Squirrel now surueyeth the Nut and the Maple, and the Hedgehog rowles up himself like a football: an Apple and a Nutmeg make a Gossip's cup: and the Ale and the Faggot are the Uictuallers merchandise: the Northern black Dust is the during Fuel▪ and the fruit of the Grape heats the stomach of the Aged: Down beds and quilted Caps are now in the pride of their service, and the Cook and the Pantler are men of no mean office: the Ox and the fat Wether now furnish the market, and the Coney is so ferreted, that she cannot keep in her borough: the Currier & the Lime-rod are the death of the fowl, and the Falcon's bells ring the death of the Mallard: the trotting gelding makes a way through the mire, and the Hare & the Hound put the Huntsman to his horn: the barren do subscribes to the dish, and the smallest séed makes sauce to the greatest flesh: the dried grass is the horses ordinary, and the meal of the beans makes him go through with his travel: Fishermen now have a cold trade, and travellers a foul journey: the Cook room now is not the worst place in the Ship, and the Shepherd hath a bleak seat on the Mountain: the Blackbird leaveth not a berry on the thorn, and the garden earth is turned up for her roots: the water floods run over the proud banks, and the gaping Dister leaves his shell in the streets, while the proud Peacock leaps into the pie: Muscovia commodities are now much in request, and the water Spaniel is a necessary servant: the Lode horse to the mill hath his full back burden; and the Thresher in the barn tries the strength of his flail: the Woodcock and the Pheasant pay their lives for their feed, and the Hare after a course makes his hearse in a pie: the shoulder of a hog is a shooing horn to good drink, and a cold alms makes a beggar shrug. To conclude, I hold it a time of little comfort, the rich man's charge, and the poor man's misery. Farewell. February. IT is now February, & the Sun is gotten up a Cockestride of his climbing, the Ualleyes now are painted white, and the brooks are full of water: the Frog goes to seek out the Paddocke, and the Crow and the Rook begin to mislike their old Makes: forward Coneys begin now to kindle, & the fat grounds are not without Lambs: the Gardener falls to sorting of his seeds, and the Husbandman falls afresh to scouring of his Ploughshare: the Term travellers make the Shoemaker's Harvest, and the Chandler's cheese makes the chalk walk apace: The Fishmonger sorts his ware against Lent: and a Lambe-skinne is good for a lame arm: the waters now alter the nature of their softness, and the soft earth is made stony hard: The Air is sharp and piercing, and the winds blow cold: the Taverns and the Inns seldom lack Guest's, & the Ostler knows how to gain by his Hay: the hunting Horse is at the heels of the Hound, while the ambling Nag carrieth the Physician and his foot-cloth: the blood of Youth begins to spring, and the honour of Art is gotten by Exercise: The trees a little begin to bud, and the sap begins to rise up out of the root: Physic now hath work among weak bodies, and the Apothecary's drugs are very gainful: There is hope of a better time not far off, for this in itself is little comfortable: and fo● the small pleasure that I find in it, I will thus briefly conclude of it: It is the poor man's pickpurse, and the miser's cutthroat, the enemy to pleasure, and the time of patience. Farewell. March. IT is now March, and the Northern wind drieth up the Southern dirt: The tender Lips are now masked for fear of chopping, and the fair hands must not be ungloved: now riseth the Sun a pretty step to his fair height, and Saint Valentine calls the birds together, where Nature is pleased in the variety of love: the Fishes and the Frogs fall to their manner of generation, and the Adder dies to bring forth her young: the Air is sharp, but the Sun is comfortable, and the day begins to lengthen: The forward Gardens give the five Salads, and a Nosegay of Violets is a present for a Lady: Now beginneth Nature (as it were) to wake out of her sleep, and sends the Taveller to survey the walks of the World: the sucking Rabbit is good for weak stomaches, and the diet for the Rheum doth many a great Cure: The Farrier now is the horses Physician, and the fat Dog feeds the Falcon in the Mew: The Tree begins to bud, and the grass to peep abroad, while the Thrush with the Blackbird make a charm in the young Springs: the Milke-mayd with her best beloved, talk away weariness to the Market, and in an honest meaning, kind words do no hurt: the Football now trieth the legs of strength, and merry matches continue good fellowship: It is a time of much work, and tedious to discourse of: but in all I find of it, I thus conclude in it: I hold it the Servant of Nature, and the Schoolmaster of Art: the hope of labour, and the Subject of Reason. Farewell. April. IN is now April, and the Nightingale begins to tune her throat against May: the Sunny showers perfume the air, and the Bees begin to go abroad for honey: the Dew, as in Pearls, han●s upon the tops of the grass, while the Turtles sit billing upon the little green boughs: the Trout begins to play in the Brooks, and the Salmon leaves the Sea, to play in the fresh waters. The Garden banks are full of gay flowers, and the Thorn and the Plum send forth their fair Blossoms: the March Colt begins to play, and the Cosset Lamb is learned to butt. The Poets now make their studies in the woods, & the Youth of the Country make ready for the Morris-dance; the little Fishes lie nibbling at a bait, and the Porpas plays in the pride of the tide: the shepherd's pipe entertains the Princess of Arcadia, and the healthful Soldier hath a pleasant march. The Lark and the Lamb look up at the Sun, and the labourer is abroad by the dawning of the day: Sheep's eyes in Lambs heads, tell kind hearts strange tales, while faith and troth make the true Lover's knot: the aged hairs find a fresh life, and the youthful cheeks are as red as a cherry: It were a world to set down the worth of this month: But in sum, I thus conclude, I hold it the Heaven's blessing, and the Earth's comfort. Farewell. May. IT is now May, and the sweetness of the Air refresheth every spirit: the sunny beams bring forth fair Blossoms, and the dripping Clouds water Flora's great garden: the male Dear puts out the Velvet head, and the pagged do is near her fawning: The Sparhawke now is drawn out of the mew, and the Fowler makes ready his whistle for the Quail: the Lark sets the morning watch, and the evening, the Nightingale: the Barges like Bowers, keep the streams of the sweet Rivers, and the Mackerel with the Shad are taken prisoners in the Sea: the tall young Oak is cut down for the Maypole: the scythe and the Sickle are the Mower's furniture, and fair weather makes the Labourer merry: the Physician now prescribes the cold Whey, and the Apothecary gathers the dew for a medicine: Butter & Sage make the wholesome breakfast, but fresh cheese and cream are meat for a dainty mouth▪ and the Strawberry and the Peascod want no price in the market: the Chicken and the Duck are fattened for the market▪ and many a Goflin never lives to be a Goose. It is the month wherein Nature hath her full of mirth, and the Senses are filled with delights. I conclude, It is from the Heavens a Grace, & to the Earth a Gladness. Farewell. june. IT is now june, and the Haymakers are mustered to make an army for the field, where not always in order, they march under the Bag and the Bottle, when betwixt the Fork and the Rake, there is seen great force of arms: Now doth the broad Oak comfort the weary labourer, while under his shady Boughs he sits singing to his bread and cheese: the ●ay-cocke is the Poor man's Lodging, and the fresh River is his gracious Neighbour: Now the Falcon and the Tassel try their wings at the Partridge, and the fat Buck fills the great pasty: the trees are all in their rich array: but the silly Sheep is turned out of his coat: the Roses and sweet Herbs put the Distiller to his cunning, while the green apples on the tree are ready for the great bellied wives: Now begins the Hare to gather up her heels, and the Fox looks about him, for fear of the Hound: the Hook and the Sickle are making ready for harvest: the Meadow grounds gape for rain, and the Corn in the ear begins to harden: the little Lads make Pipes of the straw, and they that cannot dance, will yet be hopping: the Air now groweth somewhat warm, and the cool winds are very comfortable: the Sailor now makes merry passage, and the nimble Footman runs with pleasure: In brief, I thus conclude, I hold it a sweet season, the senses perfume, and the spirits comfort. Farewell. july. IT is now july, and the Sun is gotten up to his height, whose heat parcheth the earth, and burns up the grass on the mountains. Now begins the Canon of heaven to rattle, and when the fire is put to the charge, it breaketh out among the Clouds: the stones of congealed water cut off the ears of the Corn: and the black storms affright the faint-hearted: the Stag and the Buck are now in pride of their time, and the hardness of their heads makes them fit for the Horner: Now hath the Sparhawke the Partridge in the foot, and the Ferret doth tickle the Coney in the borough. Now doth the Farmer make ready his team, and the Carter with his whip, hath no small pride in his Whistle? Now do the Reapers try their backs and their Arms, and the lusty Youths pitch the sheaves into the Cart, The old Partridge calls her Covey in the morning, and in the evening, the Shepherd falls to folding of his flock: the Sparrows make a charm upon the green Bushes, till the Fowler come and take them by the dozen: the Smelled now begins to be in season, and the Lamprey out of the River leaps into a Pie: the Soldier now hath a hot march, and the Lawyer sweats in his l●ned Gown: The Pedlar now makes a long walk, and the Aqua vitae Bottle sets his face on a fiery heat: In sum, I thus conclude of it, I hold it a profitable season, the Labourers gain, and the rich man's wealth. Farewell. August. IT is now August, and the Sun is somewhat towards his declination, yet such is his heat as hardeneth the soft clay, dries up the standing ponds, withereth the sappy leaves, and scorcheth the skin of the naked: now begin the Gleaners to follow the Corn Cart, and a little bread to a great deal of drink makes the Travellers dinner: the Melowne and the Cucumber is now in request: and Oil and vinegar give attendance on the Salad herbs: the Alehouse is more frequented than the Tavern, and a fresh River is more comfortable than a fiery Furnace: the bath is now much visited by diseased bodies, and in the fair Rivers, swimming is a sweet exercise: the Bow and the Bowl pirke many a purse, and the Cocks with their heels spurn away many a man's wealth: The Pipe and the Taber is now lustily set on work, and the Lad and the Lass will have no lead on their heels: the new Wheat makes the Gossip's Cake, and the Bride Cup is carried above the heads of the whole Parish: the Fo● netty pot welcomes home the Harvest cart, and the Garland of Flowers crownes the Captain of the Reapers. Oh, 'tis the mercy time, wherein honest Neighbours make good cheer, and God is glorified in his blessings on the earth. In sum, for that I find, I thus conclude, I hold it the world's welfare, and the earth's Warming-pan. Farewell. September. IT is now September, and the Sun begins to fall much from his height, the meadows are left bare, by the mouths of hungry cattle, and the Hogs are turned into the Corn fields: the winds begin to knock the Apples heads together on the trees, and the fall are gathered to fill the Pies for the Household: the Sailors fall to work to get afore the wind●, and if they spy a storm, it puts them to prayer: the Soldier now begins to shrug at the weather, and the Camp dissolved, the Companies are put to Garrison: the Lawyer now begins his Harvest, and the Client pays for words by weight: the Inns now begin to provide for guests, and the night ●aters in the stable, pinch the Traveller in his bed: Paper, pen, and ink are much in request, and the quarter Sessions take order with the way-layers: Coals and wood make toward the Chimney, and Ale and Sack are in account with good fellows: the Butcher now knocks down the great Béeves, and the Poulter's feathers make toward the Upholster: Walflet Oysters are the Fishwives wealth, and Pippins fine are the Costermongers rich merchandise: the flail and the fan fall to work in the Barn, and the Corn market is full of the Bakers: the Porkets now are driven to the Woods, and the home-fed Pigs make pork for the market. In brief, I thus conclude of it, I hold it the Winter's forewarning, and the Summer's farewell. Adieu. October. IT is now October, and the lofty winds make bare the trees of their leaves, while the hogs in the Woods grow fat with the fallen Acorns: the forward Dear begin to go to rut, and the barren do groweth good meat: the Basket makers now gather their rods, and the fishers lay their leaps in the deep: the load horses go apace to the Mill, and the Meal-market is seldom without people: the Hare on the hill makes the Greyhound a fair course & the Fox in the woods calls the Hounds to a full cry: the multitude of people raiseth the price of wares, and the smooth tongue will sell much: the Sailor now bestirreth his stumps, while the Merchant liveth in fear of the weather: the great feasts are now at hand for the City, but the poor must not beg for fear of the stocks: a fire and a pai●e of Cards keep the guests in the Ordinary, and Tobacco is held very precious for the Rheum: The Coaches now begin to rattle in the street: but the cry of the poor is unpleasing to the rich: Muffs and Cuffs are now in request, and the shuttel-Cocke with the Battel-doore is a pretty house-exercise: Tennis & Baloune are sports of some charge, and a quick bandy is the Court-kéepers commodity: dancing an●●encing are now in some use, and kind hearts and true Lovers lie close, to keep off cold: the Titmouse now keeps in the hollow tree, and the black bird sits close in the bottom of a hedge: In brief, for the little pleasure I find in it, I thus conclude of it: I hold it a Messenger of ill news, and a second service to a cold dinner. Farewell. November. IT is now November, and according to the old Proverb, Let the Thresher take his flail, and the ship no more sail: for the high winds and the rough seas will try the ribs of the Ship, and the hearts of the Sailors: Now come the Country people all wet to the Market, and the toiling Carriers are pitifully moiled: The young Herne and the Shoulerd are now fat for the great Feast, and the Wood cock begins to make toward the Cockeshoot: the Warriners now begin to ply their harvest, and the Butcher, after a good bargain drinks a health to the Grazier: the Cook and the Comfit-maker, make ready for Christmas, and the Minstrels in the Country, beat their boys for false fingering: Scholars before breakfast have a cold stomach to their books, and a Master without Art is fit for an A B. C. A red herring and a cup of Sack, make war in a weak stomach, and the poor man's fast, is better than the Gluttons surfeit: Trenchers and dishes are now necessary servants, and a lock to the Cubboord keeps a bit for a need: Now begins the goshawk to weed the wood of the Pheasant, and the Mallard loves not to hear the bells of the Falcon: The winds now are cold, and the Air i'll, and the poor die through want of Charity: Butter and Cheese begin to raise their prices, and Kitchen stuff is a commodity, that every man is not acquainted with. In sum, with a conceit of the chilling cold of it, I thus conclude in it: I hold it the discomfort of Nature, and Reason's patience. Farewell. December. IT is now December, & he that walks the streets, shall find dirt on his shoes, Except he go all in boots: Now doth the Lawyer make an end of his harvest, and the Client of his purse: Now Capons and Hens, beside Turkeys, Geese and Ducks, besides Beef and Mutton, must all die for the great feast, for in twelve days a multitude of people will not been fed with a little: Now plums and spice, Sugar and Honey, square it among pies and broth, and Gossip I drink to you, and you are welcome, and I thank you, and how do you, and I pray you been merry: Now are the Tailors and the Tiremakers full of work against the Holidays, and Music now must been in tune, or else never: the youth must dance and sing, and the aged sit by the fire. It is the Law of Nature, and no Contradiction in reason: The Ass that hath borne all the year, must now take a little rest, and the lean Ox must feed till he been fat: The Footman now shall have many a foul step, and the Ostler shall have work enough about the heels of the Horses, while the Tapster, if he take not heed, will lie drunk in the Seller: The prices of meat will rise apace, and the apparel of the proud will make the Tailor rich: Dice and Cards, will benefit the Butler: And if the Cook do not lack wit, he will sweetly lick his fingers: Starchers and Launderers will have their hands full of work, and Periwigs and painting will not be a little set by, strange stuffs will be well sold, strange tales well told, strange sights much sought, strange things much bought, and what else as falls out. To conclude, I hold it the costly purveyor of Excess, and the after breeder of necessity, the practice of Folly, and the Purgatory of Reason. Farewell. Christmas day. IT is now Christmas, and not a Cup of drink must pass without a Carol, the Beasts, Fowl and Fish, come to a general execution, and the Corn is ground to dust for the Bakehouse, and the Pastry: Cards and Dice purge many a purse, and the Youth show their agility in shooing of the wild Mare: now good cheer and welcome, and God be with you, and I thank you: and against the new year, provide for the presents: the Lord of Misrule is no mean man for his time, and the guests of the high Table must lack no Wine: the lusty bloods must look about them like men, and piping and dancing puts away much melancholy: stolen Uenison is sweet, and a fat Coney is worth money: Pit-falles are now set for small Birds, and a Woodcock hangs himself in a gynne: a good fire heats all the house, and a full Almsbasket makes the Beggar's Prayers: the Maskers and the Mummers make the merry sport: but if they lose their money, their Drum goes dead: Swearers and Swaggerers are sent away to the Alehouse, and unruly Wenches go in danger of judgement: Musicians now make their Instruments speak out, and a good song is worth the hearing. In sum, it is a holy time, a duty in Christians, for the remembrance of Christ, and custom among friends, for the maintenance of good fellowship: In brief, I thus conclude of it: I hold it a memory of the Heaven's Love, and the world's peace, the mirth of the honest, and the meeting of the friendly. Farewell. Lent. IT is now Lent, and the poor Stockfish is sore beaten for his stubbornness: the Herring domineers like a Lord of great Service, and the fruit of the Dairy makes a hungry Feast: Fasting and mourning is the life of the poor, and the Dogs grow lean, with the lack of bones, while the Prisoners heart is nipped with penury: the Beasts of the Forests have a bare feed, and the hard crusts try the teeth of the Beggar: The Bird hath a little shelter in the Bush, and a bitter frost makes a backward Spring: The Sun gives but little warmth, and the March wind makes the Air cold: The Fishermen now are the Rakers of the Sea, and the Oyster gapes, to catch hold of the Crab: Solitariness and Melancholy breed the hurt of Nature, and the nakednesse of the Earth is the eyes discomfort: Idle people sit picking of Salads, and necessity of exercise is an enemy to study: the winds grow dangerous to the Sailor, and the Rocks are the ruin of the Merchant: the Sentinel now keeps a cold watch, and the Sconce is nothing comfortable to the Soldier: the shepherd hath little pleasure in his Pipe, and Age hath but a dead feeling in love: the Colt hath a ragged coat, and the half mewed head disgraceth the Dear: the Falcon's wing is but young feathered, and the deep f●llow wearies the Huntsman: there is nothing pleasing but hope, that the days will lengthen and time will be more comfortable. I conclude, in itself, it is an uncomfortable season, the Heaven's frown, and the Earth's punishment. Farewell. Good Friday. IT is now Good Friday, and a general Fast must be kept among all Christians, in remembrance of Christ's Passion: Flesh and Fish must be vanished all stomaches, strong or weak: Now begins the Farewell to thin fare, and the Fishmongers may shut up their shops till the Holidays be passed: the Butchers now must wash their Boards, make clean their Aprons, sharpen their knives, and sort their pricks, and cut out their meat for Easter Eve market: Now must the Poulters make ready their Rabbits and their Fowl, the Cooks have their Ovens clean, and all for Pies and Tarts against the merry Feast: now the Maids bestir them about their houses, the Launders about their Linen, the Tailors about Apparel, and all for this holy time: Now young Lambs, young Rabbits, and young Chickens dye for fine appetites, and now the Minstrel tunes his Instruments, to have them ready for the young people: but with the aged and the religious, there is nothing but sorrow and mourning, confession, contrition, and absolution, and I know not what: few that are merry, but children that break up school, and wenches that are upon the marriage. In sum, it is such an odd day by itself, that I will only make this conclusion of it: It is the Bridle of Nature, and the Examiner of Reason. Farewell. Easter day. IT is now Easter, and jack of Lent is turned out of doors: the Fishermen now hang up their nets to dry, while the Calf and the Lamb walk toward the Kitchen and the Pastry: The velvet heads of the Forests fall at the loose of the Crossbow: the Samman Trout plays with the Fly, and the March Rabbit runs dead into the dish: the Indian commodities pay the Merchant's adventure: and Barbary Sugar puts Honey out of countenance: the holy feast is kept for the faithful, and a known jew hath no place among Christians: the Earth now begins to paint her upper garment, and the trees put out their young buds, the little Kids chew their Cuds, and the Swallow féeds on the Flies in the Air: the Stork cleanseth the Brooks of the Frogs, and the Sparhawke prepares her wing for the Partridge: the little Fawn is stolen from the Do, & the male Dear begin to heard: the spirit of Youth is inclined to mirth, and the conscionable Scholar will not break a holiday: the Minstrel calls the Maid from her dinner, and the Lover's eyes do troll like Tennis balls. There is mirth and joy, when there is health and liberty: and he that hath money, will be no mean man in his mansion: the Air is wholesome, and the Sky comfortable, the Flowers odoriferous, and the Fruits pleasant: I conclude, it is a day of much delightfulness: the Sun's dancing day, and the Earth's Holiday. Farewell. Morning. IT is now Morning, and Time hath wound up the Wheels of his day Watch, while the Lark, the Sun's Trumpet, calls the Labourer to his work: there is joy and comfort through the whole world, that the spirits of life are awaked out of their dead sleep: It is the blessed time of reason, in which the best things are begun, while Nature goes to experience for the better perfection of her business: The Sun now begins to draw open the Curtain of his Pavilion, and with the heat of his Beams draws up the unwholesome mists in the Air: the Mother Earth is recovered of her cold sickness, and sends forth her fair flowers to perfume the infected air: now the Sorceress with her magic Art puts her charms to silence, and the Birds of the woods make music to the poor traveller. Now begin the wits of the wise, and the limbs of strength to compass the world, and make Art honourable: thieves now are either caved or imprisoned, and knowledge of comfort puts care to a Non plus. The beasts of the forests use the silence of fear, and the Wolf like a Dog dares not look out of his den: the Worms into the earth, and the Toads into the Waters, fly for fear of their heads: This is a time that I joy in, for I think no time lost, but in sleep: and now have imaginations their best means to attire themselves in the golden livery of their best graces; to which the night is at no time by deprivation of action. I conclude, it is in itself a blessed season, a dispersing of the first darkness, and the Dial of Alexander. Farewell. One of the Clock. IT is now the first hour, and Time is, as it were, stepping out of darkness, and stealing towards the day: the Cock calls to his ●enne, and bids her beware of the Fox, and the Watch having walked the streets, take a nap upon a stall: the Bellman calls to the maids to look to their locks, their fire, and their light, and the child in the cradle calls to the Nurse for a Dug: the Cat sits watching behind the Cupboard for a Mouse, and the Flea sucks on sweet flesh, till he is ready to burst with the blood: the spirits of the studious start out of their dreams, and if they cannot fall asleep again, then to the Book and the wax Candle: the Dog at the door frays the Thief from the house, and the Thief within the house may hap to be about his business. In some places Bells are rung to certain orders: but the quiet sléeper never tells the Clock: not to dwell too long upon it, I hold it the farewell of the night, and the forerunner to the day, the spirits watch, and Reason's workemaster. Farewell. Two of the Clock. IT is now the second hour, and the point of the Dial hath stepped over the first stroke, and now Time begins to draw back the Curtain of the night: the Cock again calls to his Hen, and the Watch begin to buss●e toward their discharge: The Bellman hath made a great part of his walk, and the Nurse begins to huggle the child to the Dug: the Cat sits playing with the Mouse which she hath catched, and the Dog with his barking wakes the servants of the house: the studious now are near upon waking, and the thief will be gone, for fear of being taken: The Foresters now be about their walks, and yet stealers sometime cozen the Keepers: Warreners now begin to draw homeward, and far dwellers from the town, will be on the way to the market; The Soldier now looks towards the Court de Garde, and the Corporal takes care for the relief of the Watch: the earnest Scholar will be now at his ●ooke, and the thrifty Husbandman will rouse towards his rising: the Seaman will now look out for light, and if the wind be fair, he calls for a Can of ●ee●e: the fishermen now take the benefit of the tide, and he that bobs for Eels, will not be without Worms. In sum, I hold it much of the nature of the first hour, but somewhat better. And to conclude, I think it the enemy of Sleep, and the entrance to Exercise. Farewell. Three of the Clock. IT is now the third hour, and the Windows of Heaven begin to open, and the Sun begins to colour the Clouds in the Sky, before he show his face to the World: Now are the spirits of life, as it were, risen out of death: the Cock calls the servants to their day's work, and the grass horses are fetched from the Pastures: the Milkmaids begin to look toward their dairy, and the good Huswife begins to look about the house: the Porridge pot is on for the servant's breakfast, and hungry stomaches will soon be ready for their victual: the Sparrow begins to chirp about the house, and the Birds in the bushes will bid them welcome to the field: the Shepherd sets on his Pitch on the fire, and fills his Tar-pot ready for his flock: the Wheel and the Reel begin to be set ready, and a merry song makes the work seem easy: the Ploughman falls to harness his horses, and the thrasher begins to look toward the barn: the Scholar that loves learning, will be hard at his Book, and the Labourer by great, will be walking toward his work. In brief, it is a parcel of time, to good purpose, the exercise of Nature, and the entrance into Art. Farewell. Four of the Clock. IT is now the fourth hour, and the Sun begins to send her beams abroad, whose glimmering brightness no eye can behold: Now crows the Cock lustily, and claps his wings for joy of the light, and with his Hens leaps lightly from his Roost: Now are the Horses at their Chaff and Provender: the servants at breakfast, the Milkmaid gone to the field, and the Spinner at the Wheel: and the Shepherd with his Dog are going toward the Fold: Now the Beggars rouse them out of the Hedges, and begin their morning craft; but if the Constable come, beware the stocks: The Birds now begin to flock, and the Sparhawke begins to pray for his Airy: The Thresher begins to stretch his long arms, and the thriving Labourer will fall hard to his work: the quick witted brain will be quoting of places, and the cunning workman will be trying of his skill: the Hounds begin to be coupled for the chase, and the Spaniels follow the Falconer to the field: Travellers begin to look toward the Stable, where an honest Hostler is worthy his reward: the Soldier now is upon discharge of his Watch, and the Captain with his company may take as good rest as they can: In sum, I thus conclude of it: I hold it the Messenger of Action, and the Watch of Reason. Farewell. Five of the Clock. IT now five of the Clock, and the Sun is going apace upon his journey: and fie sluggards, who would be asleep? The Bells ring to Prayer, and the streéts are full of people, and the highways are stored with Travellers: the Scholars are up and going to school, and the Rods are ready for the Truants correction: the Maids are at milking, and the servants at Plough, and the Wheel goes merrily, while the Mistress is by: the Capons and the Chickens must be served without door, and the Hogs cry till they have their swill: the Shepherd is almost gotten to his Fold, and the Herd begins to blow his horn through the Town. The blind Fiddler is up with his dance and his song, and the Alehouse door is unlocked for good fellows: the hounds begin to find after the Hare, and horse and foot follow after the cry: the Traveller now is well on his way, and if the weather be fair, he walks with the better cheer: the Carter merrily whistles to his horse, and the Boy with his Sling casts stones at the Crows: the Lawyer now begins to look on his Case, and if he give good counsel, he is worthy of his Fee: In brief, not to stay to● long upon it, I hold it the necessity of Labour, and the note of Profit. Farewell. Six of the Clock. IT is now the sixth hour, the sweet time of the Morning, and the Sun at every window calls the Sléepers from their beds: the S begins to open her leaves, & the Dew on the ground doth sweeten the Air: the Falconers now meet with many a fair flight, and the Hare and the Hounds have made the Huntsman good sport: the shops in the City begin to show their wares, and the market people have taken their places: The Scholars now have their forms, and whosoever cannot say his Lesson, must presently look for Absolution: The Forester now is drawing home to his Lodge, and if his Dear be gone, he may draw after cold scent: Now begins the cursed Mistress to put her Girls to their tasks, and a laz▪ Hylding will do hurt among good Workers: Now the Mower falls to whetting of his Sith, and the Beaters of Hemp give a hoh to every blow: The Ale Knight is at his Cup ere he can well see his drink, and the beggar is as nimble tongued, as if he had been at it all day: the Fishermen now are at the Craier for their Oysters, and they will never lyn crying, while they have one in their basket: In sum, not to be tedious, I hold it, the Sluggards shame, and the Labourers praise. Farewell. Seven of the Clock. IT is now the seventh hour, and Time begins to set the world hard to work: The Milkmaid's in their Dairy to their Butter and their Cheese, the Ploughman to their Ploughs and their Harrows in the field: the Scholars to their Lessons, the Lawyers to their Cases, the Merchants to their accounts, the Shop-men to What lack you? and every Trade to his business: Oh 'tis a world to see how life leaps about the limbs of the healthful: none but finds something to do: the Wise, to study, the strong, to labour: the Fantastic, to make love: the Poet, to make Verses: the Player, to con his part: and the Musician to try his note: every one in his quality▪ and according to his condition, sets himself to some exercise, either of the body, or the mind: And therefore since it is a time of much labour, and great use, I will thus briefly conclude of it: I hold it the enemy of Idleness, and imployer of Industry. Farewell. Eight of the Clock. IT is now the eight hour, and good stomaches are ready for a breakfast: The Huntsman now calls in his Hounds, and at the fall of the Dear the Horns go apace: Now begin the Horses to breathe and the Labourer to sweat, and with quick hands, work rids apace: Now the Scholars make a charm in the Schools, and Ergo keeps a stir in many a false Argument: Now the Chapmen fall to furnish the shops, the market people make away with their ware: The Tavern hunters taste of the other Wine, and the nappy Ale makes many a drunken Noll: Now the Thrasher begins to fall to his breakfast, and eat apace, and work apace, rids the Corn quickly away: Now the Piper looks what he hath gotten since day, and the Beggar, if he have hit well, will have a pot of the best: The Traveller now begins to water his horse, and if he were early up, perhaps a bait will do well. The Osteler now makes clean his stables, and if Guests come in, he is not without his welcome. In conclusion, for all I find in it, I hold it the Minds travail, and the Body's toil. Farewell. Nine of the Clock. IT is now the nynth hour, and the Sun is gotten up well toward his height, and the sweeting Traveller begins to feel the burden of his way: The Scholar now falls to cunning of his Lesson, and the Lawyer at the Barro falls to pleading of his Case: the Soldier now makes many a weary step in his march, and the amorous Courtier almost ready to go out of his Chamber: The market now grows to been full of people, and the Shopmen now are in the heat of the market: the Falconers now find it too hot flying, and the Huntsmen begin to grow weary of their sport: The Byrders now take in their Nets and their Rods, and the Fishermen send their Fish to the Market: the Tavern and the Alehouse are almost full of Guests, and Westminster and Guild Hall are not without a word or two on both sides: The Carriers now are loading out of Town, and not a Letter but must been paid for ere it pass: The Crier now tries the strength of his throat, and the Bearward leads his Bear home after his challenge: The Player's Bills are almost all set up, and the Clerk of the Market begins to show his Office: In sum, in this hour there is much to do, as well in the City, as the Country: And therefore to be short, I will thus make my conclusion: I hold it the toil of Wit, and the trial of Reason. Farewell. Ten of the Clock. IT is now the tenth hour, and now preparation is to been made for dinner: The Trenchers must be scraped, and the Napkins folded, the Salt covered, and the Knives scoured, and the cloth laid, the Stools set ready, and all for the Table: there must be haste in the Kitchen for the Boiled and the Roast, provision in the cellar for Wine, Ale, and Beer: The Pantler and the Butler must been ready in their Office, and the Usher of the Hall must marshal the Servingmen: The Hawk must been set on the Perch, and the Dogs put into the Kennel, and the Guests that come to Dinner, must been invited against the hour: The Scholars now fall to construe and parce, and the Lawyer makes his Client either a Man or a Mouse: The Chapmen now draw home to their Inns, and the Shopmen fall to folding up their Wares: The Ploughman now begins to grow towards home, and the Dairy maid, after her work, falls to cleansing of her Uessels: The Cook is cutting sops for Broth, and the Butler is chipping of loaves for the Table: The Minstrels begin to go towards the Taverns, and the cursed Crew visit the vile places: In sum, I thus conclude of it: I hold it the Messenger to the stomach, and the spirits recreation. Farewell. Eleven of the Clock. IT is now the eleventh hour, children must break up School, Lawyers must make home to their houses, Merchants to the Exchange, and Gallants to the Ordinary: the Dishes set ready for the meat, and the Glasses half full of fair water: Now the market people make towards their Horses, and the Beggars begin to draw near the Towns: the Porridge put off the fire, is set a cooling for the Plough folk, and the great Loaf, and the Cheese are set ready on the Table: Colleges and Halles ring to Dinner, and a Scholar's Commons is soon digested: The Rich man's Guests are at Curtsy, and I thank you: and the poor man's Feast is Welcome, and God be with you: The Page is ready with his Knife and his Trencher, and the meat will been half cold, ere the Guests can agree on their places: The Cook voids the Kitchen, and the Butler, the Buttery, and the Serving men stand all ready at the Dresser: the Children are called to say Grace before Dinner, and the nice people rather look then eat: the gates be loekt for fear of the Beggars, and the Minstrels called in, to been ready with their Music: The pleasant wit is now breaking a jest, and the hungry man puts his jaws to their proof: In sum, to conclude my opinion of it, I hold it the Epicures joy, and the Labourers ease. Farewell. Twelve of the Clock. IT is now the twelfth Hour, the Sun is at his height, and the middle of the day, the first course is served in, and the second ready to follow: the dishes have been red over, and the reversion set by: the wine begins to be called for, and who waits not is chidden: talk passeth away time, and when stomaches are full, discourses grow dull and heavy: But after Fruit and Cheese, say Grace and take away: Now the Markets are done, the Exchange broke up, and the Lawyers at Dinner, and Duke Humphreys servants make their walks in Paul's, the Shop men keep th●ir shops, and their servants go to dinner: the traveller begins to call for a reckoning, and goes into the stable to see his Horse eat his provender: The Plough man now is in the bottom of his Dish, and the labourer draws out his Dinner out of his Bag: The Beasts of the field take rest after their feed, and the Birds of the Air are at I●ke in the Bushes: the Lamb lies sucking, while the Ewe chewes the Cud, and the Rabbit will scarce peep out of her Borough: the Hare sits close asleep in her muse, while the Dogs sit waiting for a bone from the Trencher: In brief, for all I find of it, I thus conclude in it: I hold it the stomach's pleasure, and the spirits weariness. Farewell. Midnight. NOw is the Sun withdrawn into his Bedchamber, the Windows of Heaven are shut up, and silence with darkness have made a walk over the whole Earth, and Time is tasked to work upon the worst Actions: yet Virtue being herself, is never weary of well doing, while the best spirits are studying for the body's rest: Dreams and Uisions are the Haunters of troubled spirits, while Nature is most comforted in the hope of the morning: the body now lies as a dead lump, while sleep, the pride of ease, lulls the Senses of the Slothful: the tired Limbs now cease from their labours, and the studious brains give over their business: the Bed is now an image of the Grave, and the Prayer of the Faithful makes the Pathway to Heaven: Lovers now enclose a mutual content, while gracious minds have no wicked imaginations: Théeues, Wolves, and Foxes, now fall to their prey, but, a strong lock, and a good wit, will aware much mischief: and he that trusteth in God will be safe from the Devil. Farewell. The Conclusion. ANd thus to conclude, for that it grows late, and a nod or two with an heavy eye, makes me fear to prove a plain Noddy, entreating your patience till to morrow, and hoping you will censure mildly of this my Fantastic Labour, wishing I may hereafter please your senses with a better subject than this; I will in the mean time pray for your prosperity, and end with the English Phrase, God give you good night. FINIS.