THE ANATOMY Of BASENESS. Or The four quarters of a Knave; Flattery, Ingratitude, Envy, Detraction. He that hath these four parts, need no more have To be recorded for a complete Knave. Imprinted at London for Richard Redmer, and are to be sold at the West dare of Paul's at the sign of the Star. 1615. TO THE TRVELY ennobled both by Virtue and birth, Sir ROBERT SIDNEY Knight of the BATH: I. A. wisheth the reward of his Virtue, honour in this world, Glory in the next. Honourable Sir: TO imitate the common method of Epistolizers in this kind, were rather to write of you, then to you, which course though I affect not, I cannot altogether neglect, though I shall thereby either wrong you, or myself; for in publishing (though sparingly) my knowledge of your worth to the world, such, to whom you are unknown will so much injure me, as to tax me with (what I condemn in others) flattery; whereas some (to whom you are no stranger) will censure me as much on the contrary to have dealt with you rather, according to the poverty of my ability, then to the fullness of your merit. It will peradventure seem strange unto you (if this poor work chance to come to your view) what assurance of your good acceptance begot such presumption in me as to dedicate the same unto you. I must first answer, I have not done it mercenarily; for than I would have presented it to your hand: nor vaingloriously; for than I would either have craved your allowance, or subscribed my name; but freely and honestly out of that respect which I owe to that innate Goodness which I know to be in you. Though I forbear (out of some respects) to have my name published; yet I can acknowledge the Book to be mine without blushing. If it be (by any) ill digested, the fault must be in the taker not in the Author: it was written with a right hand, and I wish it may not be sinisterly entertained by any; but if some will needs be so forward, the care is taken. In you I am made so confident by that (I might justly use Honourable, Noble, Worthy, or some such high Epithet: but I will rather say) Honest (a poor phrase will some think) and virtuous disposition which accompanies you, that I must account it may happiness that I live to know a second, whose breast Goodness makes her habitation; yet pardon me if I say, I enjoy not this happiness without some touch of grief; I shall not need to implore your protection, though your pardon. I acknowledge I have presumed, and know you can and will remit the errors of Affection in him that is, The wisher of your Honour, and honourer of your virtues J. A. THE ANATOMY of Baseness. OF THE FLATTERER. THey that compare the fawning Parisite unto the Spaniel, do the cur much wrong; for he will often hear his master's tongue, When in the field he follows his delight: Yet never quest; but th'echoing sycophant at every word, by his weak favourer spoken, cries good, 'tis true, and this is held a token Of much respect and love; though from the haunt Of worth and merit, his base nature range as far as falsehood, from the strong built nest of Truth and Goodness, which in every breast Should like two twins be nourished; but 'tis strange To see how this poor worthless humour lives, even in those bosoms where good blood and parts, have their abiding, poisoning generous Arts With that, to which no language spoken gives An Epithet too bad: and to those men (if I may term them so) whose only words such sweetness to the flattered ear affords, To yield a fitting title by my pen: I am as much unable, as unapt to imitate their baseness; which indeed had I not chanced t'have heard, into my Creed Could near have come, but it hath often happt To sound within the compass of my hearing, whereby mine ears as to the pillory, seemed to be nailed in such gross flattery; Yet in their checks no sign of shame appearing. It may seem strange (yet I dare say't is true) that I have blushed to see their impudence, while they (un-man-like) seemed to have no sense Of their own baseness: of this thriving crew. I have observed both Sexes to be free; too free in some respect, though in some kind more bound than slaves, for our best part (the mind) Was chiefly given divinest things to see: And not to be by aught that shares with us, in the short course of our mortality so fettered, least unhappily it be, Deprived of its best good in being thus. Have I not heard one tell, the Crow she's white, and Midas-like prefer the pipe of Pan before Apollo's harp? wherein this man (Who thus from Art and Nature tears their right). Thus from the Phrygian differs, Midas wears (as the reward and badge of ignorance) th'ears of an Ass; but 't is the others chance To thrive by clawing th'ignorant Ass' ears. Have I not heard some tell the prodigal, 't is for his honour to be bountiful: and with applause commend the humorous Gull In all his actions? I have seen them fall And kiss the feet of a great golden calf; whose very best of his admired worth was by a Tailor to the world brought forth, To whom his Honour ought his better half. Let a man chafe (though no just cause there be) and then obsequious Apes will fret as fast, as had they seen a verier slave t'have passed By, than themselves: or be your humour free And jovially disposed, they'll janus-like strait show a clearer face, where you may see the true proportion of hypocrisy Drawn to the life; (which loves as others like) Many years since the famous Chaucer writ, that, these same men which bear a double visage, are as mere monsters in good Nature's lineage; And for good men's society unfit. Like your Chameleons these will change their hue as you your colour, be it good or ill, change near so oft, yet you shall find them still, (From what they were) transform as fast as you. Seem to be most unlike yourself, or speak what you least think they ' le be, and speak like you; tell them they be Knaves they'll smile and say so too; feign yourself ill, they'll swear they find you weak. TO THE FLATTERED. FOnd Man, that suckest the pleasing poison in (which from the Sirens unsuspected tongue Is kindly offered to thine ear) wherein are all the drugs and dregs of vildness wrung: Assure thyself; if in thy bosom live aught that deserves the name of worth, 't is known More than thyself, nor shalt thou need to give Fame a reward to have thy mercy blown: For 't is her care, the more she finds thee slow, or careless, whether thy desert shall be Known unto any, but thyself, or no; to sound the louder: (so to honour thee) Through her golden Trumpet, (good men's throats:) Or if thine ear shall love, and itch to hear Thine own praise sung in smooth and pleasing notes, (which makes true worth unlike itself appear) She hath an other Trumpet blown by those, whose mercenary tongues shall sound thy praise; But with a breath which blasteth as it blows, and ruins that which it pretends to raise. For do but note, you shall perceive their plots, are (being once assured of you as friends) To thrust their blanks amongst your high prized lots, so by your loss to compass their own ends. But selfe-conceipt so much corrupts your sense, that to your judgement, only that same man Seems wise, and honest, and gives no offence that by this Art, can make a Goose a Swan. If by the breath of these, you strive to raise your Reputation, your Ambition's weak; You must resolve of such to buy your praise, not for the Truth, but for reward they speak. If on the former (who for virtues sake honour that good is in you) you rely, Their approbation shall have power to make your glory live to all Posterity. Do not you think that man deserves much blame who finds his own infirmity, yet feeds Daily on that which nourisheth the same, And dangerously the brains corruption breeds? Such is your case (weak men and women) for you like the meat because the sauce is sweet; What bitter is (though wholesome) you abhor, disabling that which judgement holdeth meet. But judgement, is no judgement, if it seem to contradict your humour; but the longer YE are constant to this poorness, (which you deem worth in yourselves) your weakness proves the stronger. Though to the palate pills distasteful be they to the health more beneficial prove, Then things more pleasing to the sense; we see cutting doth oft in curing much behove: But you like Herod think, that he most loves you who cries, you speak more like a God than man, Beheading him that honestly reproves you, not caring though it be baptizing john: Let a man seem but cheerfully to sing Placebo to your words and actions, than You quite forget, near honey lies a sting; and that the devil (clarke-like) saith Amen: Where flatterers (his Chaplains) read the Mass whose superstition (making you their Saint) You do allow as currently to pass, for Truth, as Gospel (which no tongue can taint.) TO THE FLATTERER. THou that canst grieve because another smiles, and give, to undeserving spirits, styles Which thou dost filch from generous noble minds; because thy poor obsequious humour finds Cold entertainment there, tell me; dost think that all are blind that are content to wink? Or that thy shameless flattery beguiles every man that at thy glozing smiles? Assure thyself thy thoughts deceive thee much; for many smile to see thy baseness such: And such as thou think'st blind more truly see thy heart, than they that hug thy flattery; And (scorning by thy pitch to be defiled, or by thy sweet tuned lullabies beguiled) Do loath to view thy wild deformity, which pleasing is to such as favour thee. That every man be master of his own all men allow; but it is lately grown To such a custom, (first by thee brought in) among th' Ambitious of this age of sin, That to a man (if I profess to love him) I must give titles some degrees above him: Or else be taxed with envy or neglect, though my soul knows, I give more true respect Than you that idly light a torch at noon, and tell the Sun he's brighter than the Moon; Which argues only that your humour is, still to be doing though you do amiss In guilding gold. This I observed have in some, whose age did homage to the grave, Whose words in prayers more fitly had been spent, and with devotion on embassage sent To make their peace with heaven, then to obey that which would guide them by the broader way. If it be hateful even in younger years to temporize and gloze, sure it appears Monstrous in age, whose part it rather is to grieve for what in youth it did amiss; Then in the last act of a life misled, To heap more blows upon a wounded head. Could I instruct, or might I but advise; I'd teach, or wish you to become more wise: But 'twill be thought preposterous in youth to tutor Age, though by the Word of Truth Such proofs as it doth bring approved be: Therefore I leave you to your humour free; Wherein (no doubt) you'll one day find this true, You make your fav'rers fools, they knaves of you. Too mild a style, for that's a term for men; if so, too good for any flatterer then: What shall I call thee devil, monster, beast? if not all these, thou 'rt one of them at least Transformed to th' shape of man; nor seems it strange if thy grand Master (who himself can change Into an Angel's likeness) make thee seem, a Saintlike man in many men's esteem; Instructing thee upon what vain to work, and where thou mayest the most securely lurk With best assurance, bids thee ply that mind where thou the weakest easiness shalt find: Such thou mayest puff as Butchers do their meat, and with thy breath persuade them they're as great As thou dost make them; and above the rest, be sure (my child) thou suff'rest not a jest, Be 't near so poor to pass without a Good, though by none else the same were understood How to deserve applause; and then thou hearest amongst that Sect (where gracious thou appear'st) A tedious talker, sencelesly discourse (till he dull others, and himself grow hoarse) Let thy attention (till his tongue lieth still) stare in his face, then let him find thy skill. These be the rules, and many worse than these thou must observe, if thou desir'st to please; Thy Tutor saith, whose help will near deceive thee, and to whose favour wretched man I leave thee. OF THE INGRATEFUL. SOme have compared (and not improperly) him that is tainted with this worst of ills unto the Swine, who (freely, daily) fills His hungry maw even to satiety Upon such Mast as from the fruitful tree falls to the ground; yet his dejected eye is fixed only where his food doth lie, And never raised the Givers face to see. Guilty of this unpardonable crime, where divers kinds of these inhuman men, discoursed by th' industrious famous pen Or heathen Tully living in his time. The first Dissemblers were of favours reaped proportioning the same (being more or less) To the small measure of their thankfulness, Though a full hand on them the same had heaped The next acknowledged freely that occasion, offering itself (joined with ability) to make requital (for each courtesy) Seemed deaf to opportunities persuasion. An other sort there was, whose shameless craving would not admit denial, but being made master of their desires could soon persuade Their tongues (too basely) to deny the having. The fourth and last (and worst my Author writes) were such as, what they had received, forgot. Unthankful he than that remembers not; He that denies, dissembles, not requites. Let me add one kind more, which I conceive worse than all these, who like the frozen snake, stings that same bosom, whence it warmth did take; And would, what gave it life, of life bereave. Such there hath been my observation knows, who (from a poor, dejected miser state) being raised (by Great ones) proved so ingrate, To bring their raisers neck near th'axes blows. Should I demand why such unnumbered were among the former, some man might reply; (as unto him who asked the reason why, Among so many laws, so strict, severe, Made by the Romans, none was known to touch the child, whose hand should guide the fatal knife; to cut his throat who gave his being life): Because that Tully thought there lived none such. But since the time perfidious judas died (who at his end (I fear) bequeathed his curse, to some that do in these days bear the purse) Such there have been, such have been Deified. If your prosperity strike sail, be sure These Kites, which stoop to you while you can feed them, come to an others fist; and if you need them They soar aloof, check at your empty lure. Much like their Emblem which (for the full pails) follow the maid that bears them; if she fall and spill the meat, to that they run, and all Respect of her that used to feed them, fails. Or Cuckoo-like, they to your Summer's sun sing merrily (though suck your eggs withal) but when they find your Summer fail, and fall Draw near, they're gone, and their harsh music done. TO THE BOUNTIFUL. IF on the waters you shall cast your bread it is not lost, but if your pearls you throw Unto these swine, be sure the same they'll tread under their feet; good seed in good ground sown, Beneficìa malè locata malefacta sunt. Favours ill placed, are numbered with ill deeds; for if that hand which liberally bestows, (Though it (in giving) other men's exceeds) not the true use of Bounty rightly knows, 'twere better be more sparing, for to give is proper to all creatures in their kind: The meanest thing which we can say doth live, in some respect we beneficial find. But unto man is only given the power to limit Bounty, know when, how, on whom, Best to bestow; not like a heedless shower to let fair flowers die in their mother's womb For lack of moisture, whilst upon vild weeds it (in abundance) pours refreshing drops; This kind of giving naturally proceeds from partial hands, which in the course soon stops. Nor should your bounty (like the sun) run round and shine on all alike, though (like the beams) The same should seldom in the eclipse be found; the truest Bounty lives between extremes. * Non ita claudenda est res familiaris, ut eam benignitas aperire non possit, nec ita reseranda ut pateat omnibus. Your hand should never be so locked from all, as to deserve a covetous report: Nor still in action like your Prodigal, who makes expense his most delightful sport: Long since were none then Goodmen held more fit to taste your Bounty (than 'twas rightly used); But in those days, such men must naked sit: thus is true liberality abused. He that can now most temporize, best thrives, and great men, more than good men, Bounty taste; Honey is brought unto the fullest hives, small rivers give unto the sea (in waste.) Many (again) like Husbandmen do lay their seed in th'bosom of the fattest ground; Whose richness will with much advantage pay, where for each grain there shall an ear be found: And some of you, to gain a knaves good word; or by a jester to be highly praised Will give with both hands, place them at your board; when goodmen are not o'er your threshold raised. Bounty's pure current in this muddy time, is by the fogs of Prodigality So steinched, with stinking airs, so ' re-spread with slime, that (as it were not) no such thing we see. We find the stream as contrary to run, unto that course which it should rightly hold: As is the West to th'rising of the sun, or Southern heat unto the Northern cold. Nay more, this Virtue suffers so much wrong, as to be made a subject nay a slave; Even unto such whose base malicious tongue the Givers reputation dare deprave: Yet have they still gift after gift received, even to the full of their desires. Shall I Taelis benignitas vanitati est coniunctior, quam liberalitati. Cic. Say this was bounty? I might seem bereaved (in saying so) of sense and honesty. If a cursed dog (fed at your table) bites you, you'll kick him (if not hang him) at the least: And in a man (which doggedly requites you) reward you that, you punish in a Beast? I know not what to term this kind of giving: nor will I make my brain a mint for phrase; But wish that men (whilst their fair fame is living, would manifest it comes of virtues race: Whose trueborn children should relieve her friends; but Virtue starves, they so degenerate Virtus laudatur & alget. In sucking base ones, for their private ends whilst she and hers (though praised) are desolate. Alas poor Virtue, (only poor to such, as do not know thy worth, who live and die Without all sense of goodness, or a touch, of aught but Beastlike sensuality): Or rather let me pity them then thee. for though the strange deformed Brats of vice Be richly clad now, thine in poverty; they valued high, but thine at meanest price; The time may come, when Bounty shall appear pure, like itself, and like fair virtues friend. When Ostentation shall not dare come near, nor Prodigality persuade her spend, But upon such as merit more than crave; then shall no bawling fool, no wit-bare jester, No fawning base insinuating slave presume, the place where Bounty lives to pester. And you that now it thus abuse, shall then curse your much-giving, and mis-giving hand. When you shall see the deeds of other men, graven in brass, yours written in the sand. Such mettle are men's hearts, the thankful part cannot forget the good it doth receive, But (as in brass) record it in his heart, of which no time can ere the same bereave. Th'ingrateful Nature (sand-like) doth retain th'impression of your hand, and more perceives An aptness in itself to take again, then to make show it any thing receives. TO THE INGRATEFUL. IS 't long of thy short memory, that thou yield'st not due thanks, where thou the same dost owe? Alas, good man; why dost thou not forget to beg as well? or dost thou think it fit For men to crave thy thanks; because to thee unasked their favours came not? can there be Excuse allowed for such a fault? O no; But contrary, no Tyrant's law can show A torture too severe for such an Ill: Look how an o'ercharged piece breaking doth kill The gazers on, and yet the Gunner stand not hurt at all, though from his fatal hand Death took his flight; so doth thy want of Art rightly to use a friend, make many smart And suffer too unjustly: For, thy fault makes honest hearts (with no such baseness fraught) Suspected; which approves the Proverb true men scalt with hot, cold water do eschew. The guiltless servants of that * Naball. Carmelite inur bane fool, who did with ill requite Favours received) had been to death pursued (but for his wife) for his Ingratitude. Arr thou relieved in want, and canst forget (unworthy wretch) what gracious hand did set Thy misry free? dost think there's nothing more to be performed, when of thy leprous sore Of Poverty thou'rt cured; no thanks, no praise, rendered to him which changed thy painful days To times of ease? more grievous is thy sore (through thy neglect) by much than 't was before. Thine outward sense then only felt the smart; but now it sticks so close to thy false heart, (And vlc'ring lieth in thy corrupted blood) that not from thence proceeds a thought that's good. If by sinister means thou hast obtained what thou inioy'st, thou canst not say 'tis gained. By wealth that's purchased with the loss of Fame, men do grow rich in nothing else but shame: In whom, desert, no thankfulness doth move, they do no less then cheat men of their love. Thou with a hollow heart, false, stopped within, on thy best friends will't play, so thou may'st win: Gain savours well to thy misjudging sense, Dulcis odor lucri. whose faculty can easily dispense With any Stock, with any ground, or dung (be't ne'er so base, or vild for any tongue But thine to touch) from whence it doth proceed, though in thy bosom with the same doth breed Hateful Ingratitude; whose brazen brow (bold Imp of Impudence) will not allow A blush to touch it. I confess my fault from misconstruction came, in that I thought Thou hadst been man, aswell in deed, as Name, which title died to thee, when thou to shame. OF THE ENVIOUS. Do we not hold him mad, that in his hand dare gripean Adder, though he crush it dead? or seems it strange, if he by whom is fed A lions whelp, or hath of bears command, Shall have his blood by them untimely shed? What shall we think him then that entertains a Viper next his heart, which from his veins Sucks his best blood, and leaveth in the stead A fretting poison? whose effect is this, It makes him grieve and rage at others good, to stab himself to spill an others blood, And think himself cursed in an others bliss. Let him be gorged, even to the very throat; yet will he vex to hear an other call for a poor crust of bread; it frets his gall To see a sail belongs not to his boat. If with the price of one of his own eyes he can buy both an other man's, he'll do't: 'Tis to be feared too, for a Soul to boot he'll give his own to hell a sacrifice. This is the man which from his mother's womb hath been perverse and froward, whose vild life is nourished only by the breath of strife; Which birth and breathing cannot want a room At last in hell; for he that travels here (this monsterlike) with mischief, cannot find a place more suiting to his devilish mind, Then where his friends and father may be near, To be delivered of his hellbred seed: for there some damned infernal Hag or other may be the Midwife, fit for such a mother From whom (at best) some Fury must proceed. Vix sunt ho● hoc nomine 〈◊〉 quamque lup●● plus seritatis bent, perfud● maenus frate● sanguine fr●● This is the man who sits, and laughs to spy where men do (Wolfe-like) by the throat, each other tear: how th'inhuman brother kills the brother, And by the hand of children, Parents die. Where he perceives an others downfall nigh, He thirsts to see their ruin, more than they whose high-flown Falcons (watchful for their prey) Threatening to bring Destruction from the sky, Long to behold the fearful game struck dead. 'Tis envies life, soul, summum bonum, all which we term dear, to see an other fall, Though 't be the man that gives his hunger bread. To see his neighbour fast is his best food, It makes him lean to see another fat; He pines to nought, when he finds nought whereat He may repine. To have him understood, And to the full described; thus in a word, it grieves his staru'ling spirit more to see An others good, than his own misery; Inuidus non ● nu● discruciate aliena felicita quam su● inf● tuni●. Though it cut deeper than Afflictions sword. TO THE ENVIED. IS it not strange, that such can live, whose food is dressed by Envy, and with poison mixed, Whose heart's the kitchen, and whose cankered blood the meager Cook carowseth; while betwixt, His master and the devil are begotten prodigious Monsters, which appear as barren Of honesty as Hell, their joints as rotten through want of marrow, as a piece of carrion? By these th'u'rt maliced; but be not dismayed nor grieve thou at them, rather for them grieve If so thou canst thy Charity persuade, (which as thou'rt flesh and blood, I scarce believe.) When a fierce Dog comes running at thee, stay and thou shalt find he'll rather back retire, Then offer to assault thee: if away from him thou fliest thou further'st his desire. So these (far worse than dogs) will fiercely bite, when they perceive their venom makes thee stir: For nothing gives such fullness of delight to th'snarling spleen of a malicious Cur, As to behold the mischief that he doth. But where well-tempered patience doth preserve invidia virtute parta, gloria, non invidia putanda est. (As a safe Antidote to th'rankling tooth of envies whelps) they pine away, and starve. This to thy Farewell; if thy Virtues make thee hateful to th'bad, their envy is thy glory: If love to vice make good men's love forsake thee, resolve thyself they envy not, they be sorry. To the Envious. But that I know thy face, I must confess I should have trembled; for an Object less Fearful, were able without Physics Art To make a Costive man play a loose part. I cannot think the worst of Pharaoes' kine Looked half so bare, as this poor trunk of thine; Which like Sir Cranion, or a starv'ling Capon Staukes here and there, proportionably shapen To thy lean spirit, whose repining hate Hath brought thy Carcase to this pining state. I see there are more ways to th'wood then one. Not age, or wedlock, bring'th a man alone Unto a Nightcap; for a wretched mind Gave thine to thee; O had it been so kind T'have put a Nosegay too into thy hand; And in thy Ruffs room placed a falling band, Many had looked t'have seen thee turn, and Hope Would have presumed that next had come a Rope: Whereto thy hanging ominous looks presage Thou must do homage; in th'mean time, engage That little hope thy wretched soul enjoys Of Heaven, to him who thy best good destroys, In feeding thy insatiable spleen; Which, (had not help from hell transported been) Could not have been so devilish as 't hath proved, But it in thee infernal powers have moved: Scarce Hell itself, could construe that for ill; Which (damned) thou (to satisfy thy will) Hast urged (I know) as an extreme offence, Against unguilty, harmless Innocence. Which hiath by some (too credulous weak men) (Out of their wisdoms) been found faulty; when Had they been masters but of so much sight, As to distinguish between day and night, They had been less injurious, or more just; But to such judges must the guilty trust, Whilst Innocence must suffer; yet not so But it may live to see their overthrow Who moale-like heave unseen, till at the last Their working be discovered, and they cast Out of their hollow trenches, and withal Trod on by them, whom they desired might fall; Then shall your sable Cacodaemon be Hanged with a twig upon some willow tree; To all which Envious undermining slaves, I wish no fairer Ends, no better graves. OF THE DETRACTOR. THis comes in last, because he comes behind those whom he wrongs, though in his doing so the devil cannot him in skill forego; Unto the last but this, This last I find To be as near allied in Baseness, as a brother can be to a brother twin, in feature, though (as oft) Nature therein Proportion them so like, that each doth pass For other. Only this one difference I note this last, allow'th more freedom to his tongue then Envy doth, and other men are stung By him more than himself; he makes his throat An open grave, where his contagious breath, labours to blast the spotless fame of such, whose Reputation it shall chance to touch. Nor can the hand of Reconciling Death Free men from this injurious Monsters sting, which through the bowels of the earth doth pierce, and in the quiet vault appears more fierce Than Death (the graves stern tyrannizing King.) Were a man here as free from actual ill, as when he first moved in his mother's womb; or as the man that calls the Heaven his home Guiltless of sin; yet would this try his skill. If in a bulrush he can find a knot; or from pure honey (which the harmless Bee sucked from those flowers which like itself was free) Strain poisoned juice; where if he find one jot Which he can judge doth relish of a weed (from which the toilsome Bee cheerfully flies, home to the hive with hony-laden thighs) He strait concludes no good can thence proceed. So strange is the distraction of this Tom of Bedlam, that all places, times, and men without distinction seem alike: for when The furious railing fit comes on him, from His stinking stomach, he'll belch forth such gear, such filth; and with such violence, as though he meant to cast his rotten garbage: so He joys to make his loathsomeness appear. This (what shall I term him?) will devour your bread, call you his master, crouch with cap in hand, profess he falls, if you shall fail to stand; Yet curse you living, joy when you are dead. He ' le be the Herald of your Infamy, and scandalise your worth, though you have bred him to the shape of man even from a shred. Hic niger est, etc. This is a blacke-one, full of treachery. To the Detracted. THough Wolves against the silver Moon do bark, they blemish not her brightness, nor the spite Of bawling Curs, (which she disdains to mark) can any whit eclipse her of her light. So may'st thou slight the railing of ill tongues, if a clear shining conscience be thy guard; Which to defend thee from the worst of wrongs, will, as a wall of brass, be found as hard. Men are by Nature apt to blame, and hate such as distaste what they approve as good: If thou dislike to hear a Parrot prate, and tell a tedious tale of Robin-hood; He ' le shoot Detractions boult against thy brain, terming it shallow, barren, poor and dull; Because not vented by a windy vain, empt'ing itself to make thy mouth show full. But wiser men than he assures thee no; Loquacit a● certissimum fatuitatis argumentum Eras. They are most fools (say they) that use most words: That silence argues folly, 't is not so; for virtues branches no such fruit affords. Admit a Turk should call thee Infidel; wouldst be offended? or imagine, that One dub thee knave, in whose own heart doth dwell baseness enough, to make him wondered at By all that know him? shall the first persuade thee, that thy Religion knows more Gods than one; Or to deny the sacred power that made thee, or t'giue his honour to a carved stone? Or can the second force thee to confess through his report, thou art as base as he? If none of these thou wilt, their power's the less, thy worth the more by their detracting thee. An honest fame (like spice) the more 'tis bruised savours the sweeter, which when we are dead Will be the sweetest seare-cloath can be used to wrap us in; it will outlast the lead Wherein that body lies, in which did live a spotted conscience, a detracting spirit; Which to itself an earthly heaven did give, and of heavens joys itself did disinherit. TO THE DETRACTOR. THink'st thou it makes thy Reputation fair, if by thy muddy tongue thou canst impair An other man's? look how a murderer can (whose fatal hand shall kill an other man) Add to his own by shortening others days; so by detracting others grows by praise. Perchance thou feedest thyself with a conceit, that every man that hears thee rail, doth strait Believe that all thou sayst is true, for that they contradict thee not; I'll tell thee what, In my opinion thou shouldst rather fear, it makes them tremble and amazed to hear, How diu'lishly thou second'st what thou sayst with oaths, and curses; or admit thou may'st Light upon some who (knowing not thy use) may be persuaded, that from some abuse Offered to thee, proceeds thy railing fit: Yet all the glory thou enioy'st by it Is, they'll note thee everafter, for a creature which all good men should abhor. Or say thou shalt some man, to some deprave who know him honest; think'st thou for a knave They can do less than judge thee? and beware thou rail'st to no men that judicious are: For they'llsoon find that thou dishonest art, and therefore know thou tak'st no good man's part: Whose praise they judge is equally the same, Where Just men do applaud, or thou defame. I might have spared my breath in wishing thee to men of judgement not to be too free; For thou art chiefly careful in this point to ply his ear whose judgement's out of joint: By whom as yet was never understood how any cause could, but the first, be good; Whose ignorance (I think) might argue rather Th' Vicar of fools will prove their ghostly father. And as for thee, thou dost resolve I know thou must die mad, thy brain's distempered so. Which will be for thy credit when thou 'rt dead: for some will lay the fault upon thy head, And say thy brain enforced thy tongue to rave. Better be thought a madman then a knave. FINIS. Qui ducis vultus, & non legis ista libenter, Omnibus iwideas liuide, nemo tibi. Mart.