WITS BEDLAM,— Where is had,  
Whipping-cheer, to cure the Mad.   

The BOOK.  
Those Epigrams fain would I owe,  
Where every Word, is a Word and a Blow.   
Reproses, where they are Well deserved; must be Well paid.  
At LONDON Printed by G. ELD, and are to be sold by james Davies, at the Red Cross near Fleetstreet Conduit. 1617.   

To the Right noble Lord the Earl of Buckingham, be much mirth, permanent Pleasure, and endless happiness, here, and else where.  

TO Thee, whose Worth hath doubled good-hopes Cape  
Thrice in high pleasures Seas, I send this Toy,  
To mock such Apes (or Beasts in human shape)  
As give us cause of laughter, and annoy.   

Her's Wit too rank, sith sprung from too much soil;  
Whereat such Apes as but Saints counterfeit,  
Do mop and mox; good sport, in sport, to spoil,:  
But, justest larks their wry-mouths right shall set.   

If some Lines broader be, than long, herein,  
(To make the lash (with laughter) loud each blow)  
It is, broad Faults to scourge with greater din,  
To fear, much more than hurt, offenders so: (grieve,  
Then when (dear Lord) great cares your greatness  
Laugh at these jerkes (like Greatness) in your sleeve.    

To the Printer.  

PRinter, here's for thee; yet, 'tis not for me;  
But clean against me: for, they'll ban my Birth  
Whose Crimes I scourge; but, that is good for thee:  
For, most will rather buy their Plague, with mirth,  
Than profit that, with pleasure, holds not Quarter;  
Then, still French-crown me, sith I am thy Martyr.   

And yet, lest, so, I should no Martyr be,  
Give me the Fame, take Gould and Blame to Thee.    


Again, of myself.  
SOme (not a few) who long to raise their Name  
In Proems to their Books, seem foes to Fame:  
Nay, more than seem; who vow (to grace their  
They publish Books for profit, not for praise: (days)  
And, hate all friendship held with pride or fame,  
Though to their Books, they use to put their name.  
But I am none of those (dissembling so)  
I'll speak the truth; And, therefore All shall know,  
That FAME and I have been too long in love,  
Now to be foes: Nay, still I'll strive to prove  
The vt'most of mine Vt'most for her sake;  
Yea life forego, ere She should me forsake.  
And if She ●aue me, through my Fortune's wrack,  
I'll fly her; so, to bind her to my Back:  
For Men by Nature, rather than they'll be  
Nothing, of Something; they desire to flee  
Upon the Wings of eviternall FAME  
Beyond Decay; and Be, though but in Name.  
And be it that unsanctified Wit  
With hellish Flashes may soon kindle it,  
And make ●t burn in glory still; yet lust  
I mo●e for That, than all that turns to dust.  
Say, 'tis a burning fever of the Soul  
To long for that which hurts, not makes her whole  
And, that that Air is too too pestilent,  
That makes the Sickness much more violent:  
Yea, Water (though from Castaly it came)  
Is best forborn if it but oils the Flame;  
Yet can I not but say▪ yea, loudly cry.  
I love, nay dote on all Eternity,  
Save that which hath relation so to ill  
As makes Eternity abhorred: Yet fill  
My Muse a Bowl of Nectar drawn from thence  
Whence all Gods Stellifide have influence,  
And I'll carouse so freely of the same,  
That pain I'll bear, as pleasure 'twere, for Fame.  
And though I reel beneath the Wheel of Fate,  
Yet Fame shall follow me through love or hate:  
That if to higher Styles I cannot climb.  
All Times shall Style me Taxer of my Time.   

It's a mad world my Masters. And a merry world my Mistresses.  
O Brains, what Bounds are set to limit you,  
In madness? will you crack the Pan, your fence?  
Will you be mad with Reason? are you true  
Unto my judgement, Sovereign of your Sense?  
Lo, how you me expose to endless Spite:  
To Censure, that may Patience quell to bear it?  
Will you inter my Name in dateless Night,  
And for your Glory must I Shame inherit?  
Do you contain such Powers as are of force  
To give me Honour for Wit well employed;  
Yet make 'twixt Wit and Wisdom such divorce,  
As, with Worlds-hate, I shall be still annoyed?  
Put that hate in one Scale (O Weight past Weight!)  
And in the other put Airs worse name,  
(Called same for Folly, or a vain conceit)  
Will This, not light; That, heavy make my fame?  
Shall aged Thoughts so doa●? Shall Childhood now  
Invade my judgement with so fierce assault,  
That it to idle Fancies so should bow,  
As still to bear the weight of Follies fault?  
And shall I sell my Birthright for such Gruel  
As feeds, but fattens not; or, fat's but Fools?  
Will you to my good Name become so cruel  
As still to have me whipped in wisdoms Schools?  
Be quiet Wit, leave beating of my Brain  
To do the Work of playing but on Crimes:  
To Scourge the Follies of the World is vain,  
If thy Whips Lines be nought but rotten Rhymes.  
Muses, why sleep ye? Will ye see me sink  
O'er head and ears in shame, who do adore you?  
Stretch out your hands: what! from me do you shrink  
To drown in deep disgrace while I implore you?  
Brains, seek you glory of Herostratus,  
To make your Findings cursed to Aftertimes?  
Call in my Muse and check her thus, and thus;  
What do I now? thus (x x x) cross I out her Rhymers,  
Who knows how near the Article of Death  
My Fame and I am? And what ' count I must  
Give for each vain and ill employed breath  
I fetch for life? To what then do I trust?  
My Fame. Why, that may die before me? Or  
My Pleasure? That dies with me. What be't than  
Makes me thus plague (which I am forty for,  
For having cause) myself and other men?  
Faults; Faults & nought but fair & foulest Faults,  
Both in myself, and others I espy.  
Tush, theyare near mended with such mad Assaults  
As make them worse, and many more thereby.  
I hope of better: Aretine, whom Fame  
Styled Scourge of Princes (such I leave to such)  
Kept them in awe: So may an Epigram  
With other soft-browed Sinners, do as much.  
But, Oh, I am too broad; and, that doth irk.  
But how should I scourge broad sins otherwise?  
Must I not make them bare before I jerk?  
Who knows not that? Why then let that suffice.  
What? Wit, how now? Hast ' suces for these 'scapes?  
Will't thou turn Fool, yet wittily defend it?  
Hast thou so many antic formless Shapes?  
Yet ween'st it such as Wisdom cannot mend it?  
Where art thou Wisdom? wilt thou suffer Wit  
To run wild now in me; and havoc make  
Of all my Reason in a frantic fit?  
O Heavens! where am I? Do I sleep, or wake?  
I yonder Sky the Sky? Is that the Sun  
Which I have waking seen? Is this the Earth  
Where safe I walked; and now will let me run  
To break mine honours neck, in brainsick mirth?  
Are these the Folk I fool with, which I see?  
Or shadows? Shadows? No. What else? Madmen  
The greater number: so, will Martyr me  
For whipping of but One, and fearing Ten.  
A hall, mad Bedlams, now my Brains (like yours)  
Begin to crow: my Muse, this Afternoon,  
Must dance a Brawl: O! look! Apollo lowers  
To see his Priest so subject to the Moon!  
God's me, how now? what strange confused noise  
Of murmur hear I? O! the Earth doth shake:  
Paul's makes her People volley-foorth her voice  
Against me for their jerks. Ha●ke! O! I quake.  
'Sfoot what are these that pinch me? Goblins?  
A wanion on the Elves for me; What now? (Elves?  
Pinch you behind, ye Nits, to save yourselves?  
Before me too? Saint George; then have at you.  
What Weather's this? how soddain is this Storm?  
Whence fall these Stones that so do batter me?  
What! from the Winds wide Mouth? can they in-  
I weigh them not a Mite, so light they be. (or me?  
Hark how it thunders! All the world's afire  
With flashes of the fury of the mad.  
Look, look, they come; beware, retire, retire:  
Hold Brains; this fear, I fear, will make you gad.  
Apollo help me. No? Wilt leave me thus?  
What! not one glance of favour in this Case?  
Then, Luna help; be thou propitious.  
Why, so: thou cheerest me in this Wild-goose-chase?  
But soft! What smell is this: It wounds my Brain?  
Breath of Blaspheamers: Fie, is no Place free  
From this so baneful Air? Can I remain  
No where, but, like a Plague, 'twill follow me?  
O what a Hell is this? A hell? No, no;  
It's better than some Scapes, that more offend:  
'tis but the bleating of some Calf, or so,  
That feels my Spleens just jerks; & there's an end.   

Bitter zeal, is less than love.  
FAme, gathering out of her own motion strength,  
And lively grown by labour in her flight,  
I seek to hold; yet draw her out at length  
With this my merry Muse: But, here's the spite:  
To follow Mirth, as maimed, she ever uses;  
For, Bolts from Dolts still cripple merry- Muses.   

A Caveat.  
TO bite is but a dogged part; to sting  
Is but a Snakes, Wasps, Hornets, or a Bees;  
These Men do shun, sith, Dole, or Death they bring;  
Yet some have, oft, a Medicine made of These;  
So, though I biting, bark; and stinging, hiss;  
Yet make of all a Medicine for thy Miss.   

To martial.  
Martial, thouart still renowned for thy Free▪ wit;  
But, oft reproached for thy Looser-pen:  
Yet, Wisemen (longing for a merry- Fit)  
Read thee with Praise & Pleasure, now and then:  
Then I (too proudly humble) think not scorn,  
They Wit-all call my name for thy Fame's horn.   

The BOOK to Gravity.  
Stern Gravity avert thy face from me;  
Or, look not saddly ou me: for, I am  
Too light, somewhere, for Eyes too sad to see;  
And yet such lightness shows but Vice her shame:  
But, to reprove Vice viciously, is more  
Amiss, I fear: the salu's worse than the Sore:  
Yet, Grace itself can hardly Wit persuade  
That it is sin to call a Spad● a Spade.   

The BOOK to the Reader.  
LOok'st thou for Wit well relished? here, each Letter  
Yields fresh-Wit seasoned well with Salt and Pepper:  
Then, if they last not, or do prove unsaury,  
It's through thy Foolry, rather than my Knau'ry.   

Again.  
ARt good; and bade thy wit? then, touch me not:  
For, I do often jerk the honest Sot.  
Art bad, and thy wit good? Forbear, much more,  
To touch me: for, I lash such till they roar.  
Or, art thou good, and great thy Wit's extent?  
Th'wilt love me, though thou loath mine Excrement.  
But be thou good or bad: for sixpence, I  
Will glad and grieve thee, make thee laugh & cry  
O! take my money,  
For this Sowre-Honey.   

Why Poets of the present times, be not so well esteemed as those of former.  
IT's Entry that doth make us better deem  
Of men erst breathing, than now drawing breath:  
So, Poets, that now live; we disesteem,  
And read them not, with pleasure, till their death.   

Of the worth of wittiest Works, or Books.  
RAre Books are Offsprings of Wits most complete,  
distilled from purest Brains refined Spirits,  
Which thereby are consumed: then, such rare merits  
Transcend all Patron's Gifts how ever great.   

Mercy with justice.  
SHould I, with jerks of wit, whip every Vice  
That now are wandering: I should make my book  
Swell as it had the worst of Poisons took;  
And, make men swell as poisoned, with the price:  
But, some I'll whip; the rest I'll spare for some  
Of more Wit, and less grace in time to come.   

Those Li●es which all, or none do understand, Do neither with Wit, Art, nor judgement stand.  
THose Rhymes are best (though least of most esteemed)  
That (like sage Plato's Suppers) best do please  
When they diiested be; how ere misdeemed  
They be at first: And, so I would have these.   

Of Myself; and, this Babble, my Book.  
SOme loath to be laughed at for what they write;  
But, I do hold that wrong these Writings right:  
Then, judge of these too Foolish Writings state,  
That only aim but to be laughed at.    


Against Pse●cus the too cunning Palmister, and Poet. Epigram. 1.  
PSe●cus is perfect in Chirosophy:  
That is; he's hand-wise, stealing coningly:  
But, oft he's well laughed at for stealing Rhymes;  
So he's Hand-wise, & Head-foole too, sometimes.   

Upon one named R● Holland, who kept one Nell Cotton. Epigram. 2.  
A Light youngman, who loved the like yong-woman  
Desired their Things to either might be common:  
So, gave her, when her good will he had gotten,  
A Yard of Holland, for a N. ell of Cotton.   

Against the nobly-desended Muscus, who wedded a Butcher's fat Daughter. Epigram. 3.  
THe well-born Muscus wedded hath, of late,  
A Butcher's Daughter Fat, for Pounds & Plate:  
Which Match is like a Pudding; sith in That  
He puts the Blood; her Father all the Fat.   

Against Faber, the Earelesse forger. Epigram. 4.  
FAber, the Forger, would himself bestow,  
In marriage fain; and swears he nought doth owe  
True: for, he's Earelesse, and hyres all he wears:  
So, oweth not so much as Clothes, or Ears!   

Against Dromus, the Borrowing barren, or bankroupt Discourcer. Epigram. 5.  
DRomus, in talk, repeats but old-said Saws  
Of other M●s; & then Discourse withdraws:  
So, (like a rotten Nail) he cannot boar  
Through rotten wood without a way before.   

Of Leoena, and her two friends; Spot, and Fuller. Epigram. 6.  
LEoena, hath two friends, that still maintain her;  
The one, hight Fuller; the other called Spot:  
Having a Fuller, she should have no Spot;  
And yet the Fuller with that Spot doth stain her:  
Then, if thou canst not put away her Spot,  
Fuller, thou and thy Mill, are overjoyed.   

Of a poor Curate that would have pawned his Bible to a rich Precisians for a Crown. Epigram. 7.  
ACurat, poor▪ a rich Precisian, prayed  
To lend him but a Crown but for a Day;  
But his request (precisely) he denied:  
Then on his Bible, he the same did pray;  
But he (like a precise illiberal Clown)  
Would take nor his, nor Godsword for a Crown.   

Against self-conceited nine-bibbing- Phagus. Epigram. 8.  
PHagus, is wise in his own Eyes (they say)  
Than he's a Fool to drink them so away.   

Against Gaulus the writing-country Schoolmaster. Epigram. 9  
GAulus, thou w●it'st thyself my scholar; and  
Thou sayst thou do●● it Scholars so to get:  
But, for thine own, thou still dost show my hand:  
So, thou dealest plain, thou canst not Counterfeit.   

Of Mutius, and Phormius bloodless single-Combate. Epigram. 10.  
MVtius, in Field, hath ●ought with Phormius,  
(Sith he thought Phormius oft his wife did smack)  
where, of the Surgeon, was but little use;  
Yet, after, Mutius ran him through the Back:  
But, Mutius ran him in behind so sore  
Sith Phormius oft so used his Wife before.   

Against Mollius, that i● a most religious Turner. Probatum est. Epig. 22.  
MOllius is most religious; but, the spite is,  
He, like a Top, set up, still turns: then he  
Must still be whipped, to run the way that right is,  
Else, like a Top, he'll rather turn then flee.   

Of the poor, Lady Minthes' frugality in taking a fair House. Epi. 23.  
MInthe, hath ta'en an House (with little pelf)  
As fair, as highly r●●ted: but she sets  
Her fore-rooms out; and backward lies herself;  
And so she lives upon the Rooms she let●:  
Then, if by lying Backward she doth live,  
She ne'er goes Backward, but she still doth thrive.   

Of the French Fencer that challenged Church the Fencer at all weapons. Epi. 24.  
THe fencing- Gaul (in pride and gallant vant,  
Challengd the English at the fencing-skill;  
The Fencer Church, or the Church Militant,  
His Errors soon reproved, and knocked him still:  
But sith our Church him disciplined so sore,  
He (rank Recusant) comes to Church no more.   

Of Galla'es' true lying. Epi. 25.  
GAlla still swears she is a maid: but than  
If true she swears, she is unknown of Men:  
But all men know her commonly (it's said)  
Then she doth lie, or is their seruing-maid.   

Of Caylus his rest in motion. Epi. 26.  
ALl Motion ceaseth when it hath its end;  
(So say Philosophers) Then, how is it  
That Caylus loving long old Kate (his friend)  
(Love being a Motion) now in mar●age knit)  
Doth be at her every day: what rest is this?  
Why, Rest of Love, while Hate in Mo●ion is.   

Against the freeness of Franks love. Epi. 27.  
HOw be't that Frank so many doth be fool?  
Bear all in hand; and love protest to all?  
Faith her Hearts like her Soul: whole in the whole  
And whole in every part, ●ee't near so small:  
So, had she hundreds, she might be alone,  
Among them One; yet whole to every One.   

Of Caius his losing his Game by missing to take a blot. Epi. 28.  
CAius his Love, came to his Chamber late;  
But, he that grace did not congratulate,  
But with too bashful ●hat; who, for the same,  
(missing to take her Blot) qu●te lost her Game.   

Of Flaccus his two Shadows to his one body. Epi. 29.  
FLaccus is followed with a pair of men,  
That (good for nought) do naught but do him ill,  
And yet he shadows it: what marvel then  
One Body should have two such Shadows still●   

Again. Epi. 30.  
FLaccus is almost sunk: of that I muse;  
Having two Bladders which he s●ill doth use.   

Of one that l●st a great Stomach. Epigram. 31.  
MAr● swears he ' hath lost his Stomach: then if one  
that's poor hath found it, he is quite undone.   

Of old Lixus his young choice. Epi. 32.  
LIxus the weak old Dotherd married late,  
a Maid, whom friends en●or●ed to that match  
So she, perforce, made him her wedded Mate▪  
But he, ●ans force, doth marriage Rites dispatch.   

Of Maurus his Orpheus-like melody. Epi. 33.  
MA●rus, last morn, at's Mistress window played  
An Hunts-up on his Lute: But she (it's said)  
Threw Stones at him: So, he, like Orpheus, there,  
Made Stones come flying, his sweet notes to hear.   

Of women's Masks, Epi. 34.  
IT seems that Masks do Women much disgrace,  
Sith when they wear them they do hide their face.   

Of their Mantles. Epi. 35.  
I Muse that Mantles, which were made to hide,  
Should but discover Vanity and Pride.   

Of the Precedency of Lawyers or Physicians, Epi. 36.  
OFt Lawyers and Ph●sitions strive for place;  
But well ye wot the Felons go before  
The Hangman to the Gallows▪ Then the case  
Is clear; the Lawyer should go first therefore.   

Of Crispus mistak●rg things. Epi. 37.  
CRispus took Phryna up ere down she was,  
He takes things ill: it's not alone her Case.   

Of old Linus his young service to Women. Epi. 39  
OLd Linus brags, he's such a woman's man,  
As never yet was tired in serving them:  
The old Slave lies: for ask his young Maid Nan,  
And she will swear (and yet doth not blaspheme)  
he's like a leaden Tuck, at Foins, or Blows,  
Whose Point & Pommel straight together goes.  
Then what a shameless beast is this to vaunt  
Of that foul sin which he, in Deed, doth want.   

Of Glaucus his mirth and madness. Epi. 40.  
Glaucus', his mirth doth cheer, his rage doth  
And so by both he gets both love and ●eare:  
Then he (like Cheese) doth help (when he's at best)  
Digestion well; himself hard to digest.   

Of Davus his selling his great horse, for a small fault. Epi. 41.  
DAuus hath sold his St●ed for starting back  
At sight of Armour, or the sound of Drum.  
I muse he sold him then, that knew his knack:  
And bought him backward still, to fight to come:  
But coming on so, late, his Lord ●ay under,  
Then though a jade a jade sold 'tis no wonder.   

Of Fulvia's feather. Epi. 42.  
FVluia still in her hair a feather wears!  
So, still the lighter far, the heavier bears.   

Of Wolfangus his great Nose and thin beard. Epi. 42.  
I Muse Wolfangus Beard so thinly grows;  
Yet 'tis no marvel having such a Nose:  
For being huge, it yields such shade and breath,  
That nought can prosper growing underneath.   

Of one called Hoops, his late embailment from Newgate for filching. Epi. 43.  
ONe Hoops, for filching, late being in the jail  
Two greazye Guts, ere trial, were his Bail:  
So cut is he, and they are in for him,  
Where now they fret while they in sweat do swim:  
But ●●e be bound the i'll never close their loops,  
If such great Barrels get no better Hoops.   

To the most fortunate M. Robert Rook, who married a most fair and virtuous wife. Epi. 44.  
rook thou art treble blessed in thy fate,  
That without check, gives Beauty's Queen the Mate.   

Of janus the justice, his imprisoning Angels coming from the hands of sinners. Epi. 45.  
Janus (they say) the justice, lately had  
Some Angels for a Bribe: But damned he,  
That put such Creatures (that ou● hearts do glad)  
Into the hands of justice, for a Fee!   

Against Libiduis common protestations to his Dabbe. Epi. 46.  
SWeet-lipt Libiduis to his whore doth swea●e,  
He loves her as his Soul: But better 'twere  
He loved her as his Body; for, he doth  
Please that with whatsoe'er likes Tail or Tooth,  
As for his Soul, I think he truly swears,  
for he cares least for that, as well appears.   

Of Sir Grobolus his valiant Stomach. Epi. 47.  
CHiron the Centaur young Achilles fed,  
With Blood & Lion's ma●row (meat, & drink)  
To make his Stomach great; Then so was bred  
Sir Grobolus the greasy Guts, I think,  
Whose stomach is so great (where his good will is)  
That at the Trencher, he puts down Achilles.   

Honour, is virtues Shadow. Epi. 48.  
IF Virtue make not Lords aswell as Birth,  
The Styles but Honours Stamp upon base Earth.   

Again, Epigram. 49.  
YEt some base Lords are Nobles (right) of blood  
but, if they were right gold, they were as good.   

Of the prodigal beggar Plasmus his great charity. Epi. 50.  
PLas●us, is utterly undone by play,  
And for his living, now, doth fast and pray:  
But though he fast and pray thus, still he breeds,  
A Multitude, which, with his flesh he feeds.   

Against Plutus his being penny-wise and pound foolish. Epi. 51.  
PLutus doth give him that his horses breaks  
Fu●l fifty pounds a year: But to him gives  
That breaks his Sons but fi●e, with fifty Gleeks:  
Thus his Son's breaker breaketh while he grieves:  
So, Plutus Beast's well broken: but his Child  
Will (like a Beast unbroken) still be wild.   

Against the ●●iudicious depravers of men of Art. Epi. 52.  
SOme empty heads, with too full envious hearts,  
Deprave what comes from heads still full of Arts:  
So, those obscuring Clouds with black reproaches,  
Thunder against bright Art like empty Coaches.   

A Couplet or two fastened to Sir Io: Harrington his Epigram, to do his Lady's Knight, Yeoman's Service. Epigram▪ 53.  
A Virtuous Lady sitting in a Muse  
(As many times some virtuous Lady's use)  
Did lean her Elbow on her knee full hard,  
The other distant from it half a yard;  
Her Knight to taunt her by a pri●y Token,  
Said, Wife a wake, your Cabinet stands open:  
She rose and blushed, and smiled, and soft doth say,  
Then, lock it, if you lust, you keep the Kay.  
But he might have replied; good Wife, you mock;  
My Key can open, but not shut the Lock.  
Sit● 'tis a Spring; and Keys in general  
Will do't, if it so openly to all.   

Against wives that will not worship Baal. Epigram. 54.  
BAal the Hebrew Word doth signify  
Husband & Lord (as Linguists have us taught)  
But many wives (t' avoid Idolatry)  
Refuse to worship Baal; yet are nought!   

How bad Husbands recompense a good Housewife. Epigram. 55.  
A Good Wife's (like a Snail) near out of door  
(Except her Head) to shun, and let abuse:  
That makes bad husbands go abroad the more  
To horn their wives (poor Snales) for keeping house   

A good wife should be unlike the Moon. Epigram. 66.  
A Goodwife should unlike the Moon appear,  
(Which most appears when most she's from the  
Not once appear but when her Sun is near: (Sun)  
But some, like Lunatics, abroad do run,  
Most when their Suns are furthest from their views,  
So, multiply the Beams on their suns Brows!   

Of Nell that was married to some Thing, herself having Nothing. Epigram. 68  
NEll, no Thing hath; which breeds her husband loathing:  
Then this he only knows, that he knows nothing.   

Of a Wanton Pairs marriage in the night. Epigram. 69.  
CLaro, for haste, was married in the night:  
That was because his wife and he were light.   

Of Witty Stophus that married a fair Foole. Epigram. 70.  
STophus, with his great wit, a fool hath wed;  
Strange death the liuing's bound so to the dead.   

Of Spongius, overthrown by the King's Arms. Epigram. 60.  
THe Kings-armes-taverne, Spongius brings full low:  
No marvel: Kings-armes Subjects overthrow.   

Against Beastias his filthy Tongue. Epigram. 61.  
BEastias foul Tongue still talks, and's Tail among,  
Which shows more wit & grace then his foul Tongue.   

Of some Merchant's Wives conjuring. Epigram. 62.  
SOme Merchant's Wives conjure their Maids, in storms,  
With Wands enchanting, working wonders so:  
But on their husband's heads some conjure horns,  
By their Familliers still, with them below!   

Against perfumed fellows. Epigram, 63.  
THey that smell least, smell best; which intimates,  
They smell like Beasts that smell like Cynet-cats.   

Of the traveling Eboracian Casus h●s strange fortune. Epigram. 64.  
CAsus, the Eboracian, made abode,  
Two years in Palestine, and one at St●ade:  
Whose wife, at his return, he found with Child;  
Whereat when she perceived him to grow wild  
She said he got it; 'tis his own (she swears)  
But then (if it be true) it well appears  
His Organ of begetting longer is  
Than the Turks Arm, that falls far short of this:  
Then that must needs be propped up with a Fork,  
That reaches from jerusalem to York!   

Of Friscus his secret jesting with a too earnest Lady. Epigram. 65.  
FRiscus in secret, jested with a Lady,  
(Which jesting Chaucer far more broadly styles)  
Who, fearing fainting, called him Fool and Baby;  
But he with jesting plied her all the while:  
Then, if she called him fool, she did not fable:  
For, fools are ever jesting with their Babble.   

Of Hypocrites, pretending to have the Spirits Unction. Epigram. 66.  
THe Unction of the Spirit some seem to have;  
So, seem they pure whom vices most deprave:  
Yet with that Unction sleek themselves about,  
Too like lean Kidneys, only fat without.   

Against self-flattery. Epigram. 67.  
THat flattery merits most contempt and blame,  
Where flatterer, and the flattered is the same.   

Of a most Honourable Error. Epigram. 68  
CAliusius Sabine thought his Learning deep,  
Sith he about him Clarks profound did keep:  
O● that our Nobles would so nobly err,  
They ne'er should live their glory to inter!   

Of a Flatterer. Epigram. 69.  
A Flatterer (like a Wrestler) stoopeth low  
To him he flatters; so, to overthrow:  
God bless good Princes from such stoupers; and,  
Place such about them as do upright stand.   

Of a Freeman made too fast. Epigram. 80.  
THe whore Lenaea wives a Knight at last;  
So she, being loose, makes this free Knight too fast!   

Of no fish called Salmon. Epigram. 81.  
A Man, called Salmon, Sivern banks dwelled under  
That his wife Salmon spawned then, was no wonder!   

Of Curtius' open-handednesse. Epigram. 82.  
CVrtius, doth use his money as his slave;  
But better 'twere he used it as his Friend:  
For, otherwise 'twill leave him by his leave;  
So will his friends without leave, in the eud:  
Then use it Curtius as thy slave; yet so,  
That thou make much of it, before it go.   

Of Bestius hate. Epigram. 73.  
BEstius doth hate, not envy good men: why?  
A Beast doth hate, but never can envy.   

Against Faustus, the profane swearing Swaggerer his hate. Epigram. 74.  
Faustus' still swears he loathes the married state:  
But it must needs be good which she doth hate.   

Against Metra her deafness. Epigram. 75.  
WHen Metra is solicited to Do,  
She seems as if she gave no Ear thereto;  
Put (dallying) useth strange diverticles  
Until she hears th'agreements Articles:  
And then joins issue with the Suitors straight,  
Who lightly ends the matter with some weight.   

Of Cleobulinas' dark Discourse. Epigram. 76.  
CLeobulina, speaks by Parrables,  
In Riddles (dark) her sense she doth insold:  
No Eagles eye (though holp with Spectacles)  
Can see the way her meaning to unfold:  
But ask her for a Gown, what she will do?  
Those words she'll echo plainly, She will do.   

What Lawyers are like. Epi. 92.  
LAwyers are like the Tongues of Balances,  
Foes to th'ore weighed with Coin & Countnances,  
Who still encl●●e unto the weightiest side;  
And there while weight remains, they do abide.   

Laws were better to be like Hunter's Toils, which they be not: Than like Cobwebs, which they be. Epi. 93.  
LIke Cobwebs, Laws still take the little flies,  
When as the Wasp & Hornet escapes with ease  
But Hunters Toils the great Beasts do surprise;  
And let the little escape: were Laws like these,  
The great should have less power the small to hurt  
Or, if they did, they should be harpold sort.   

Of the unbloody wars of Poets. Epi. 79.  
THe Banquet of the centaurs made (●t's sed)  
The Cups to fly at one another's head:  
And oft such Banquets are with Mars his Mates,  
Where Bowls let out and take in blood of P●tes:  
But Poets are more wise and merry m●n,  
That freely drink and war but with the P●n.   

Of Blaynus the Beggars cunning counterfeiting. Epigram. 80.  
BLaynus the Beggar, and sly Counterfeit,  
With Birdlime, Meal, & Blood with ease, doth set  
Sores on his Limbs; so, Crus●ed cunningly,  
That Hearts of Ste●le melt at his misery.  
Thus, he being whole doth break; yea thus break out,  
To move men's mercy, as he sits without:  
But if your bird-lime (Blayre) so take men sitting,  
You make Men Dottrells, caught with Counterfeiting.   

Against Phanus his Modesty. Epigram. 81.  
PHanus, the bashful Lecher, dares not name  
those Parts which to abuse he count's no shame:  
O monstrous modesty that shames to say  
That which to Do he holds but sport, or play.   

Of Fluxus his constant change. Epigram. 82.  
IN every Month e'en as the Moon doth change;  
So ●luxus state a change doth still sustain;  
Now fills, them falls (with Course unstaid, as strange)  
Like a strong Felt, soon down, then up again:  
Were he stark Lunatic 'twould not do so:  
Yet like his Brains, his state doth ebb and flow!   

Against Phannius sad looks, lined with lightness. Epigram. 82.  
PHannius, doth sand his Conscience to the Stews;  
Yet up his Countenance demurely Mews,  
Like an Italians wives the worse for that;  
For so it more deceives in I know what.   

Of Nichus good fortune, being robbed. Epigram. 83.  
Copper-nosed Nichus swears that robbed he was:  
But I suppose the Thief was but an Ass;  
For that he left behind him, and did lose,  
The precioust Thing he had; which was his Nose!   

Against Courtesans that colour their whoredom with a catholic pretence. Epi. 84.  
NAis, Lais, & ●hais, were not so near in name  
As in their Trade, 3 whores past grace & shame  
So whore, whore, whore come not in sound more near  
Than some pure fasters, to that Belly-cheer.   

Of a Knight, that did a work of darkness in the Light, and my sight. Epi. 85.  
OF late, I chanced to see a Lady, light  
(Light I may well say) from her bright Caroche  
Where housed she was; wherein soon went a Knight,  
Which I observed sitting in a Porch.  
The Knight gone up the waiting-maid came down;  
And left them in a Chamber next the Street:  
The Maid, at door, conversed; while (as his own,  
Though nothing less) the Knight his Love doth greet.  
, ,But Love is blind; & so saw neither lover  
that through the glass they might be seen by day:  
So in my sight, he did knights-service to her  
Against the Window, this light Ladies Stay:  
For, sith the Deed was dark, this virtuous Knight,  
(With a free spirit) still pushed it into Light.   

Of myself. Epigram. 86.  
COrnelius, Gallus, Sapph, Pindarus,  
Anacreontes, Alceon, Orpheus,  
Propertius, Virgil, Ovid, Inuenall  
Callimachus, Philotes, martial,  
Catullus and Tibullus; These have sung  
In several Strains of Love and whores among:  
Then, have, I Precedents for what I do  
Against o'er doing Drabs that men undo;  
But if the Bridwell Lash them nothing irks,  
They will but laugh at these poor paper-Iirks.   

Of Frontus his Formosity and Deformity. Epi. 87.  
FRontus, the Gallant, is both fair, and foul;  
Which Contradiction, faith can hardly win:  
Yet being brave in Body, soiled in Soul,  
Makes good he's fair without, and soul within:  
And though his Suits be silks of several forms,  
He's but involud with Excrements of Worms;  
For which he's sued both within, and out;  
And so his only beauty is in Suit.   

Of Phormus his gelded Purse. Epigram. 88  
PHormus, had in his Purse two Rubies (rich)  
When with his Turkess (damned drab) he lay▪  
To find which Purse & Stones she sought his brich  
While he found sport for which he de●re did pay:  
For, when she found his Purse, she made no Bones  
To g●ld it, 'ere he found it, of the Stones.   

Of Rufus his mirry-sory night. Epigram. 89.  
RVfus hath found a Thousand pound (they say)  
In but one merry night; and that in play  
Which some call Game: but so much lost, in brief,  
Was won in Game, but lost in deadly grief.   

Against the false survey of one with: Perch (a foul● deformed Low●) who, with his mathematical Instrument, measured one Kate A●re amiss; yet made it full ere he had done. Epi. 90.  
A Perch, that wanted man's proportion,  
Measured an Acre standing, in a Vale:  
Who found it full when he the Work had done;  
Yet it refused sith false he found the Dale:   

Of Lady's silke-stocks embossed upon the Top●, and Shames with gold. Epigam. 96.  
LAdies, be't not enough Silke-stocks to wear,  
But they o● Seams, and Tops must be embossed,  
With gold, or silver, though it ne'er appear?  
Near? That were hard, & all that Charge were lost.  
Who knows not, beauty still unseen, is vain  
As is our bravery▪ but, who bravest be;  
Or fairest, desire to have it seen, to gain  
Some notice or respect; then, surely, she  
That wears such Stocks, her knees discloseth oft,  
That some may see the Charge that is a fit.   

Of two Gallants that agreed to ●ight, went out, were hurt, and returned without bleeding Epigram. 97.  
TWo Gallants needs would fight; Sword, Time,  
Appoin●ed were, & all agreed upon: (& Place,  
Then both rode out, and ran a Wild-goose-chase;  
But both mistook t●e place: so, both, alone,  
Returned again, both swearing they were there;  
True: there where both we●e hurt a like with fear:  
Then sith their fearful hurts so equal were;  
Let them shake hands to heal their hurts of Fear.   

Of julia's book●shnesse. Epigram. 98.  
IVlia, is Bookish; and, doth study still  
To fashion Nature's favours to her will:  
Her Mirror is her Book, her time to pass;  
And so she ever studies on her Glass.   

Of Zenius his taking Tobacco with a whiff. Epigram. 99  
ZEnius still takes Tobacco, with a Whiff;  
Which (so) doth make him drunk, that, when he speaks,  
His Tongue doth falter in his Mouth, as if  
He parting were: yet, when to part he seeks,  
He falls; so, cannot part: and, so, he dies  
In Show at least, but yet, in Deed, he lies!   

Of the small respect had of learned men in general. Epigram. 100  
CAligula, envying the bright ●ames  
Of Homer, Virgil, and grave Livius,  
Or●ethrew their statues, to or'ethrow their Names  
But would these times had none more barbarous,  
For, in this age, Caligula●s we find  
That let them starve, that shine in either kind.  
 
And so the dutch would be, but for the Pot.   

Against the fantastical Attire that many Ladies wear now a days. Epi. 114.  
IF Lady's Manners with their Gauds agree;  
Then they Seem such, they would not seem to Be;  
But if they would not Be as theyare in sight.  
Let them not wear what makes them seem so light   

Of the strange daring of young gallants of the●● familiar times. Epi. 115.  
VErtumuus was a God the Romans served,  
That governed Minds & could all shapes assume;  
Oh! if that Quality were yet reserved  
For some audacious Lads that would presume:  
What Ladies Locks, nay what Queens Closets should  
Be left unlocked the Wags would be so bold!   

Of Dawlus his unkind kindness. Epi. 116.  
crows will not feed their young till 9 days old,  
Because their unkind colour makes them doubt  
Them to be theirs; which makes them to withhold  
Their help, till Time the truth by proof brings out,  
If Dawlus then were witty as a Daw,  
Having a Child so far unlike himself,  
He would from him his helping-hand withdraw,  
And let 〈◊〉 undoubted ●ather keep the 〈◊〉:  
But (Natural) he, is kinder than a Crow,  
To keep the Brat, whose Sire he doth not know,   

Against D. Tangus his swelling physic, Epi. 117.  
TAngus, the Phisick-doctor, loves a Whore  
Better than giving physic to the poor.  
He hath the art of Bawdry better far  
Than Physic: yet, in both doth make and Marr●:  
He makes a Maid a Whore; so, mares her quite:  
And makes a sound man sick, or dead outright.  
What Virgin can resist, when he doth boast  
He can restore her Maidenhead, if lost:  
Which at her marriage shallbe found as strict  
As any Gills that Love did ne'er afflict.  
When he doth promise, by a phisick-feate,  
To let the Womb & Paps from growing great.  
To give her Unguents and Complexions store  
To make her Beauties rare Reflections more:  
To keep her Body still, in healthful state;  
And make her merry in despite of Fat●.  
Which having Will to promise, Skill, to do;  
What Wench can choose but love & please him too?  
Tangus, your Art your Nature truly hits.  
That helps or hinden Loves stil-burning si●s.  
But take heed (Tangus) how you empty still  
The Wombs which you with working-phisick fill,  
Lest some repentant wench which used you have  
Say at her end you used her like a Knave:  
Then, let me thee admonish (without stripes)  
Give no more Physic with such Clyster-pipes.   

Of the physicians means and opportunity to be bawdy. Epi. 118.  
NO Craft, like that of Physic, hath such times,  
For baudy-matches, & such carnal crimes:  
No houses are so close, nor walls so strong,  
No Prisons nor no monasteries, among,  
Which may or can the Empiric shut out:  
Nay, more, he maketh jealous husbands pout:  
For, sole he must be with their Love sick wives,  
To minister what they love as their lives.  
Eudemus so did Physic L●uia, (sick)  
And Vectius Valentinus did the like  
To Messalina: So, they near do fail  
Of time to give close Physic at the ()   

Of Levis his Colours. Epi. 119.  
levis goes all in colours, light, as bright; swear  
And stalks, speaks big: so that a man would  
That he some Peacock were at the fi●st sight;  
For, he more colours hath, and much more dear:  
Yet he no colour hath, or small at most)  
To keep a Lords wife at the Bare ones cost.   

Of Curius his courage never cooled. Epi. 120.  
BY Conquest Proculus, the Emperor,  
Took, of Sarmatiam Maids, an hundred, which  
In fifteen days and nights he did deflower;  
But, Her●'les in a night did hafe as much.  
And Theophrastus tells in India grows  
An Herb so rare, whereof when one hath eaten,  
He thre●score times and ten, at once, did cl●se,  
In the Ven●●●an fight; yet scaped unbeaten.  
Well; these are Prodigies, and are believed  
No further than their tellers credit goes:  
But Curius swears ●e ne'er was yet deprived  
Of force for that: so, all his time bestows  
In Venus' service; But, at last, some knocks  
He needs must have; else escapes well with a Pox.   

Against Glossus immoderate desire of glory. Epi. 121.  
GLossus will do no good without you praise him,  
So, in his goodness still vain glory stays him:  
Like a full pierced vessel in his bent,  
That will not run unless you give it vent.   

Of f●lse Prophets. 122.  
IF Prophets were derived of profiting,  
Then Lawyer's Prophets be, still Prophesying.   

Of covetous Patrons. Epi. 123.  
PAtrons are Latrous: then, by this,  
theyare worst of greedy People:  
Whose Cognizance a Wolfes-head is;  
And in his Mouth a Steeple.   

Of Fluscus the proud Miser, and his more proud and miserable wife's making their Tomb before their death. Epig. 124.  
FLuscus, & his grim wife their Tomb have made  
Before their death; and in the Church it pight;  
As some do make a Deaths-head and a Spade  
To mortify them with that mortal sight:  
Yet These are humble made by This they make;  
But Those do make That only for Pride's sake:  
Then how their thoughts should there entombed be,  
Yet here live proud and hard, I hardly see.   

Again. Epi. 125.  
TO make that which bereaves vain Pride of breath,  
Pride's life in life, is pride in life and death.   

Of Caylus getting by gi●ing ground to his enemies. Epi. 126.  
CAylus, doth thrive in giving ground t'his foes;  
So he in going backward, forward goes:  
Much like a Wyer-drawer, who hath the kna●k,  
To draw the more, the more he draweth back.   

How a Man more than Woman is shrewd. Epigram. 127.  
A False speech, Custom hath for true, aloud  
In calling cursed Wives s●rewed: when in truth,  
The Husbands of such wives are truly shrewd;  
For, of th'ensuing Sayings, it ensueth:  
Who gets a Wife (we say) he wived is;  
Or, if apparel; he's apparelled:  
If Riches; he's enriched: So, by this,  
When he hath got a Shrew, he is shrewd,  
For, names of Sheep or Shrews all women keep;  
Then men are Shrewd whose women are not Sheep.   

That which is far fetched and dear bought is good for Ladies. Epi. 128.  
MY Lady calls for Wine; yet ere she drinks,  
She curiously demands what cost the Tun?  
If it be said Ten-pound; she from it shrinks;  
And, mewing says she'll none: But, let it run  
Into another Bowl; then, bring it her,  
And say it cost m●ch more; she drinks it strait,  
And swears its much more delicate, than dear:  
So, wine she measures by the prices weight;  
This is a fever of the Mind; then, she  
Should still, be kept from drink; so, cured to be.   

Of my venturing in the Lottery. Epigram. 129.  
I Longed to venture in the Lottery  
An Angel; but was loath to part with that:  
Did I both long, and loath? yes, that did I;  
Long for a Prize, yet loath to be laughed at.  
But yet I ventured; and for that I have  
That which I had; No hope myself to save.  
If what I had I have, I'm as I was:  
True: for I am, and was for this, an Ass.   

My Rhymes that ran before my reason into the Lottery. Epi. 130.  
Crowns are inestimable: yet if I  
With half one get 4000 Crowns I lie:  
Yet that this lying Sin I should eschew;  
Fortune (I find) hath made me speak too true.   

Of Levis his heaviness and lightness. Epigram. 131.  
levis, is light and heavy both at once;  
Strange Paradox! for, he is ever drunk:  
And therefore drinks he freely (for the nonce)  
Until he other sinks, or quite is sunk:  
And then (as Drunkard know) himself he feels  
Light in the Head and heavy in the Heels.   

Against those that tax this present Age for blind ignorance, sith it sees not how to commend their pretended knowledge. Epi. 132.  
TO tax the Age wherein we live for want  
Of Learning, Wit, or Grace, is but to vaunt  
Our private glory in the Age's shame:  
Which is (alas!) too dearly purcha'st Fame:  
Sith he that seeks to rise by all men's fall,  
His fame is, like himself, still loathed of all:  
For, be it that most men, (mere lead) do sink  
Ore-head, that seek to swim in learned Ink;  
And, quite are drowned when they do seek to gauge  
The ground of Arts full Sea, that swells with rage  
Of heavenly Winds high raptures: yet there be  
Some, that with diving, can the bottom see;  
And each least thing that in it moves or lies,  
Sith, skilfully, they dive with open eyes.  
Now, if this Some be not the greater heap  
Of men: 'twas so when Learning was most cheap:  
Men of all Ages were none otherwise;  
Fools still surpassed the number of the wise.  
Then, let this Age that (on the Brow of Time)  
Sees writ the former best of Prose and Rhyme;  
And well can add (as former Ti●es have done)  
To all Arts that were formerly begun,  
With heavy Taxes not be so oppressed;  
, ,The Bird's too bad that fileth her own Nest.   

Again. Epigram. 133.  
THe Wits (though wild in this) have now a Strain  
When they applaud each others versing● Vein  
To say, they write three Ages, if not more,  
From being well conceived. Lord! this lies sore  
Upon the Stomach of the present Age  
Which saith; It knows such Poets write in rage  
Which still blinds Reason; so, they maddly write:  
Then would they have the Age, but at first sight,  
So mad to know that Language; which (perchance)  
Themselves, in that, must oft plead ignorance  
Were they examined thoroughly to the quick?  
God shield the Age should be so Lunatic:  
As all Arts grow with Age; so, Wit hath growth:  
Then, th' Age wants no Discretion, but the Youth.   

Epigram. 134.  
GReat Alexander, A●istotle Willed  
To end his Book, of Beasts, which he begun;  
For which his pains he so his Cosers filled  
As might suffice to make a Beast a Man!  
It was eight hundred Talents mounting to  
Four hundred, some score, thous●nd Crowns (at least)  
And all for writing but of Beasts; which do  
Make men no wiser than to know a Beast.  
But though some modern Writers write of Men  
And of their better Parts (the Soul and Mind)  
Yet of our modern Kaiser's (now, and then)  
They get a Gird (perhaps) or else but Wind:  
Belike to save their Art they gird them so;  
And give no vent, lest it abroad should slow.   

Of the unutterable idleness of our She-gallants (ungentle▪ gentlewoman) of these times. Epigram. 135.  
LOrd! how it would a Cato vex to hear  
The sad'st discourses of some Courtly Dames:  
As how the Gown doth fit; how stand the Hair:  
How the face slikt: how tricked their outward frams.  
What Looks do most become; what gate is best:  
How they should Sat, Lie, Rise; (and these last two  
They Stand on most) how such & such were dressed:  
Woe gives them place, and who do take it too.  
What bowings they salute with; how they kiss,  
(Or Lip or Cheek) and who the same deserves:  
Who they do visit; who their servant is:  
Who they least love; and who then most observes.  
What women should be Coached, (or Horsed at least)  
And who Caroched with Horses full of life:  
(O wanton Mares!) and where they late did feast.  
Who Gold may wear: who Pearl or Stones less rife  
Than be there old Crones (mothers of such Maids)  
Who tell, how many Suitors they have had;  
How many Gifts; how many loving Aids:  
Who makes them me●ry, & who makes them sad.  
How fair they were in youth, what they have seen,  
Herd felt, or (feelingly) what understood?  
What Lords once loved them; who they might have been,  
Who are of sullen, who of merry mood.  
All this and (O fie, fie!) much more than this,  
These, old and young, (no Barrel better hearing)  
Still twattle to spoil Tim: (that precious is)  
When they do meet; which irks a wise man's hearing  
And if a sober youngman lights among them,  
His staidness makes them reel with mirth, as drunk  
With girds they wrong him, sith he doth not wrong them  
And, at his chaste behaviour flee● like Punks.  
But a right courtly lad, that will be bold,  
And toss, & touse, & wring, & wrong them most:  
That Reacher only hath their h●●rts in hold;  
The Sober soul they hold a simp●● Ghost.  
Well Wantoness take your time it will away:  
Laugh while yea can, ye shall not while ye would,  
Make fools of wise men; (fools so ever may)  
And show good Carriage in your being bold:  
But, when ye have done all, if I observe ye,  
To Aftertimes, in Brine, I will preserve ye.   

Against the no less vain discourses of our as idle He-Gallants. Epigram. 136.  
But do vain Women herein only sin?  
I would they did for men's sa●es; but (alas!)  
It is too true that Men offend herein  
No less than Women▪ for, each golden Ass,  
Or gaudy Coxcomb: whole Meal-times engrose  
In talk of Plays (that's now a commonplace)  
And Censuring of Players; which is dross  
Of Wit; and thus they question, too, the Case.  
What Quarrels (styled the Bysnesse) now depend?  
Anh who about tha same have crossed the Seas?  
Who seconds are, and who besides intent  
The like? and when we shall hear more of these?  
Who must call such and such t'accompt? for what?  
Nay, that's no matter, sith there's notice ta'en  
Now of that Bissnesse, (so, engaged by That)  
For, sour looks passed in powl's or Milford-lane.  
Who are behind hand for the Fool or Lie?  
Who for a smarting ●est, or bruising knock?  
Who for a Stake miss-taken on the Buy?  
Who for a w●●ooke, or director mock?  
Who do our London fine-wives Husband's horn?  
What Punks are extant? where they may be found?  
What Feather's best? what Colour most is worn?  
What Gallants store? and which are now a Ground?  
What Fashion in request? what Tailors go  
Of rest to France for new? Who makes a Hose,  
Or Doublet best? who steals most stuff? and who  
By tailors Bills and filchings most do lose?  
Who's most fantastic? and who wears his Weeds  
After the newest Garb? what Lords we have  
Like, or unlike themselves? who are but Weeds?  
And who but emp●y heads held high and br●ne?  
Whose Hawk slew best? what hound most glory wone?  
What Matches, late, were bowled? by whom, & where?  
What rule was at the Race? what Race was run?  
Who won or lost at either; here, or there?  
How many Train-sents run were in a Day?  
What Lords were at them? whose Horse got the Bell?  
Who most did brag? and who most Bets did Lay?  
Who odds did give? who give, and take aswell?  
T●●se are the Common-places which they use  
That be our brightest Gallants in discourse;  
And oft among Relate they flying News  
(How ever false) which is as bad, or worse.  
Then, our She-gallants, foolish with excess,  
Still come beneath like Hees for foolishness!   

The Miseries of Marriage. Epigram. 137.  
Continual Care; tormenting jealousy;  
Domestic jars; unbraiding with the Dower  
Comparisons of either's liberty;  
The doubtful end of Children; looks too so●r;  
wives Parent's powerings; strange heirs; death of right;  
Traitor & Thief, in Bosom, house, & Bed;  
These miseries on most men married, light;  
Yet think they live no life till they are Wed:  
It's true indeed, they live no life till then;  
That is; they live no life of wretch men.   

Of Manes his obsession. Epigram. 138.  
Ere he was married, Manes saith that he  
Was tempted by the Devil; but, ere since,  
The Devil hath him in sat● Custody  
Whose fell torment pass his patience:  
Then better tempted still, then so to marry;  
Yet some had rather damned be than tarry.   

On the death of Henry the fourth French King murdered. Epigram. 139.  
THough Kings are Gods, yet shall they die like men:  
(What shallbe, shallbe) but, most christian Kings  
Have died like Beasts; nay, like Beasts most unclean,  
Sought but for slaughter, like pernicious Things!  
Two Henries, Kings, most Christien Kings of France,  
(Now drowned in their own blood) this truth descend;  
And though the last had e'en predominance  
Of Fates and Men, yet both have wrought h●● end▪  
Once driven to deep, by Fate (in deep distress)  
He was; and thence by Fate brought back again.  
War making way) to reign in quietness:  
So, when he fled, his Fates bid Neptune reign▪  
His Flight, that so he might both live and die  
In Purple; fatal, to French- Majesty!   

Of the force of Beauty, joined with pomp, and Majesty. Epi. 140.  
MArcus Antonius (as Plutarch shoes)  
Commanding Cleopatra to appear  
Before him (sith she succoured his fo●s)  
She came in pomp (as one that had no Peer)  
Along the River Cydnus in a Gallion,  
The Poop whereof was all of mas●y Gold;  
And underneath the like most rich Pavilion  
She lay herself, more rich a thousand fold,  
Surrounded with sweet Singers; and, with all,  
The heaven li●t Instruments that Songs could grace;  
Her Servants clad in Robes majestical  
Broidered with Pearl, betwixt richest Golden-lace,  
Thus came she gliding, on the Silver Stream,  
Forced with silver Oars, and silken Sails;  
(Crowned herself with dearest Diadem)  
Towards Anthony; with whom she so prevails  
That she Captived him, being Conqueror;  
For, she on Beauty's Privilege did stand  
(Consorted with this Wealth, Port, Pomp & Power)  
That She Commands him, that did her Command.  
But though she made this Pagan much transgesse;  
Some Saints in show, do oft much worse with less!   

Against Marcus his insatiableness, and baseness in his lechery. Epi. 141.  
SO dearly did Darius still esteem  
Of his night-pleasures, that his Bed was spread  
Like a Pavilion; over which did seem  
A Vine to grow, all Gold enameled!  
Which as an Arbour, did the Bed involve;  
The Grapes whereof were Pearl as big as Plumbs;  
Whose price was more than Algri●● can resolve;  
His Pillows value worth unvalued Sums!  
Yet Marc had rather lie with's Drab (though sunk)  
In Straw, than in this State, without his Punk.   

Of making Aurum potabile. Epi. 142.  
LApis Phylosophorum, nor (as yet)  
Quinta-essentia could e'er well be made:  
But Aurum pot-abile (being wet)  
Many dry Wags do make; and then doth vade;  
For, in projecting Taverns (night, and day)  
Gold oft to liquer runs, to run away.   

Of Florus his wholesome Tongue. Epi. 143.  
FLerus, did once affect the name of Man;  
And then he sought a Virgin-●ray; since when  
He hath fresh-ayred it so, with his Tongue's Fan,  
That it is now as ●●●sh as it was then.  
But since that private fights so fatal grew,  
That one, or both must die, or lie by it;  
(As Hell and vengeance) he doth such eschew;  
And, on his Manhood's old-Store, lives by Wit.  
But yet his Tongue is potent, full of spite,  
That all Affections (tame or wild) commands;  
And therein now consists his greatest might:  
So, hath Tongue the valour of his ●ands:  
A good and gracious Tongue hath Florus then,  
Sith it will rather make, than mar goodmen.   

On the gauging of Fumus his jewel by his man, Epigram. 144.  
FUmus, locks up his wife, as is the guise  
Of the Italian; and, doth put a Lock  
Upon her jewels sith he dear doth prise  
What, being abused, base doth make his Stock▪  
But his Man's K●y still opes it, who can do well;  
So, opes the Lock to gauge his Master's jewel.   

On Light bright Lucilla her white going. Epigram. 145.  
LVcilla, lightly all in white doth go,  
To lay her Chastity a whiting so.   

Of one speaking ill of me before many. Epig. 149.  
ONe, before many, spoke but ill of me.  
Yet rather I had one spoke ill (alone)  
Of me, to many, that indifferent be,  
Then many so should speak, before but One.   

On Fugus his cooling his flaming fury with discretion, Epi. .150.  
THat Fugus, in a Duel, hotly f●ught,  
Is no great wonder, being so well wrought  
By his too busy foe: but, that he flew  
(Without wings) from the field, is scarcely true:  
It was no flight from fight with his foe;  
He did but walk to cool his fury so.   

That the men of these new times, are much wiser than those of the old. Epi. 151.  
IN old time, men were much less wise than now;  
For, but with good they then could hinder ill:  
But now, men (wiser grown) do well know how  
To let one Mischief with another still.  
Some stones to take, but (frozen) took up none:  
Then (being Crossed) thus Gallus cursed aloud;  
Pox on't (quoth he) while that dog tore his hose,  
Where Stones are tied, and Bandogs be so loose.   

Of one that refused to lend friend 20. nobles, when he sent to him for it with, and without a sure Token. Epigam. 157.  
A Gamester borrowed five pound of a Friend;  
which lost, he sent to him for five pound more  
By'th'Token he five pounds before did lend:  
But he refused utterly; and swore  
That not a Mite, of him should more begotten  
Until he truly had received that Token.   

Of a Crook-back that desired an upright judge to right his wrong. Epi. 158.  
A Crook-back prayed a judge to right his wrong  
Whereto the judge replied, I would I could:  
But (O!) you have been wrong yourself so long,  
That now I cannot right you, though I would.  
When ●a●●ng but one only Thing in store,  
You let an hundred use the same and more.   

Of a Single eyed Fencer his blind match. Epigram. 160.  
A Fencer, with one Eye, desired to play  
For th'other: which another would not do;  
(As he had reason:) for, though it were day,  
He could not stake, and see to play well too.   

Of Tullus his disproving a Tailors Will. Epigram. 161.  
Brave Tullus made a S●ite of trim Attire;  
For which his Tailor brought him in his Bill  
Who therein so did Cross his due desire,  
That he did quite disprove the Tailors Will:  
Who, in a fu●●, thus said, he ●euer knew  
Any brave Gentile deal so like a jew!   

Of Drusus his gift in reversion t●ken too soon in possession. Epigram. 1ST.  
WHen I leave off this Suit which now I wear,  
(quoth Drusus to his Man) I'll give it thee:  
But when, at night, he uncasd him (without fear,  
Of his Suits loss) his man, that promised Fee,  
Soon seized upon; and, wore the same: but, lo,  
His Master chaste he was so saucy grown;  
And asked him, what he m●ant to serve him so?  
Why Sir (quoth he) I do but wear mine own:  
For, when you left them off, you promised me  
They should be mine: and so they are you see.   

Of the Sacrifice of Lent. Epi. 163.  
A Country-parrish (Westward-ho) called Lent,  
By chance was set on fire, and burnt amain;  
One asked the name thereof, as by he went;  
'Twas told him Lent: who straight replied again,  
Fridays and Saturdays (that make us wither)  
Pray'ye put in too, and burn them altogether.   

Against fight in fashion. Epi. 164.  
IF thou wouldst fight in fashion, now, thou must  
Scorn all defence as Valor● only shame;  
And come up close, that Breast to Best may just▪  
Upon no guards, but at the Heart to ame.  
This is the fashioned fight this Time affords,  
For (Sw●z●r-like) we fight for (s●n●l●sse) spoil:  
Then all as good to fight with Knives as Swords,  
Sith all Defence doth but our honour foil!  
Then Fencers, whereto serves your fencing-skill  
Which you style Noble science? you (I think)  
Should, to the Parliament prefer a Bill  
Trepeale this Act of Custom, lest it sink:  
For, Custom, and the Devil, do men persuade  
To damn themselves, by fight, to spoil your trade.   

Of mis-reading the lines of Crustus his face. Epigram. 165.  
CRustus, the Roarer, getting in his face  
A slash of late, an old friend did embrace  
That knew him not till he himself bewrayed,  
Which done; his gamesome friend to him thus said;  
" Pardon me, Sir, your faces Lines, by spite,  
" So blotted be, I could not read them right.   

In Medio consistri Vertus. Epigram. 166.  
A Gallant, Courting of a gamesome Maid,  
Said; Sweet, Oh let me kiss your Hands and Feet  
In sign of humblest love! Good Sir (she said)  
Both those for your sweet Lips are most unmeet;  
, ,But virtue's in the midst; than, (Virtue) there,  
If you will kiss, you may: if not, forbear!   

Epigram. 167.  
MAdge once set Hodge to watch when Puddings played  
That on the fire were seething in a Pan:  
Boy, play they now (quoth she?) not yet (he said)  
At last they, boiling, brake, and all out ran.  
Lad, play they yet (qd she) quoth he young (Goose)  
They now play all (like Gepsies) vast and loose.  
So, chaste, why chaf'st qd she? why, quoth the Elf?  
To see a Pudding creep out of himself.   

Of a Maids light hearing. Epi. 168.  
I Have heard of you, Claius, said a Maid;  
O, ●●t (quoth he) recant what you have said,  
Lest you be shent: for, if you heard of me  
'Twas i● a Bawdy-house, where ever be  
Those I converse with: then if there you hear  
Of me, or of mine Actions, it is clear  
You are too blame to hearken for me, so,  
Where Maids ne'er come, but Whores away they go.   

Of Caprus his going a Procession. Epi. 196.  
CAprus to pay his wife, in her own Coin,  
Procession went, to find a Punk, he got;  
Then paid his Vows, and offerings; so, did join,  
But though she were as cold as he was hot;  
Yet, in pure zeal, she sacrificed the Ox  
In Venus' service, with her Tinderbox.   

Of Quacus, his cooling his heat with Whey. Epigram. 170.  
QVacus, drinks nought but Wha●, himself to cool,  
Yet loves a Drab, as nought by Wine, he drunk  
So, with his Babble, still he places the Fool,  
To make his wife, to weep, to laugh, his Punk;  
But, were I her; I would not fool it too,  
To weep, but laugh; yet, for him, ever Do.   

Epigram. 177.  
A Wife, whose Husband lay a Bed diseased,  
Went with his Water (scarce concealed from  
To seek for help, or how he might be eased, (view)  
And meeting with another wife she knew,  
Who with her there did then expostulate,  
About what then she bore, and how she fared:  
Who told her strait, it was her Husband's State;  
And went for help for p●ine about his Yard:  
Hath he a Yard (quoth she) and Cupid's Martyr?  
O! you are blest: would mine had but a Quarter!  
But, she should have a Yard her Back to meet,  
For playing so, her Quarters in the Street.   

Of Rampa, and her fowl trading at the Fair. Epigram. 172.  
RAmpa, the Sempster goes to Fairs a pace  
To sell her ware; and, so, to mend her Case:  
But, there her case is marred; for on each pack,  
She, packing loosely, proves a naughty-pack.  
The while, at home, her husband keeps the shop;  
And of that Fair sown seed still reaps the Crop.   

Of mine Overseer. Epi. 173.  
MY o'reth wart neighbour though, for debt, by night  
He scarce dares show his scalp; yet builds so high  
(With quarter staves) as he over looks me quite;  
So, he's mine Oue●-scer●ere I die.  
Then shall my Will, to Ill, still forward run;  
For, he hath horns, of power to see that done.   

Of Homouthius his chaste adultery. Epi. 174.  
HOmouthins hath an Oar in each man's boat;  
So, sinks his state & fame that else might float:  
Thus commits Folly and Adultery too,  
That hath to-doe, with that h'as nought to-do.   

Of Hornsbie's Incredulity. Epi. 175.  
TEll Hornsby (that doth keep a Tabling-house)  
His Wife too fast doth bear men in his Tables  
he'll not believe the same for twenty Nobles;  
No, though he see't, yet dumb is as a Louse:  
For, should he speak his living quite would fail,  
Sith all he hath he holds but by the Tail.   

Against the faith, hope, and charity, of our young Master Hal. Epi. 176.  
YOung Hal is wanton, with expectance still,  
And, longs to have his Sire curbed of his will  
By unexpected death; that, so, he might  
Be Heir of all; and be an arrant Knight:  
And so he may; for, of him proof I have,  
He may be errant Knight, or arrant Knave.   

To mine ingenious friend M. john Dumbarre. Epig. 177.  
Four for her four Lines I bequeath her;  
Up Parnassus often breath he●:  
So, thy Muse, in latine-Ditty,  
Shall sing long, lowed, short, and witty.   

Of Nais her keeping an Ordinary and her being ordinary. Epi. 178.  
NAis keeps and Ordinary, and entertains  
(like Ven●ce) all Gods good, or devils Ills:  
Protestants, Papists, Brownists, Puritans,  
Hand over Hip-well she their Bellies fill:  
As some do hers; yea, in her husband's sight;  
So, with his leave, she dubs him Vulcan's Knight.   

Again. Epi. 179.  
NAis still doth vaunt she is a Gentle-wo-man;  
It's true; for, she in love refuseth no man:  
Then, why do I so much misname her, Nais,  
That is to men so sparing of her Nays?   

Again, for a parting blow. Epi. 180.  
Naies' keeps a house of carding, but, near spins,  
(Yet, often relies) unless it be the webs  
Of others woes: She, (lately low) begins  
To rise apace: so, Floods do follow Ebbs:  
She needs not, now, to ply Wheels Reels, or Rocks  
Her Guests and Gamesters do so ply her Box.   

Of Pagus the Pedagogus proud all-tong'd-Daughter. Epi. 181.  
PAgus, the Pedant, learns his daughter Greek,  
Hebrew, and Latin: nor is she to seek  
In Spanish, French, and the Italian,  
dutch, Danish, Spruce, and the Slavonian:  
Yea, Verses makes in all these. Wondrous thing!  
That any man a maid ●o up should bring,  
While he commits Idolatry with her.  
Which makes her scorn her mother her should bear,  
Or he beget her (proud fool!) yet, I say,  
When ●ire● do play the Puppies, Puppies may.   

Again of his uncharitable prayer. Epi. 182.  
WHen Pagus Pupils play the wags, he brings  
Them in his prayer, which he, saying, sings:  
So for their penance, plagues them in pure prayer  
As if a murrain yet, were in that Air:  
For, all his household, so, do know their crimes;  
For which Clock like he strikes, and after chimes:  
Then praying thus without pure charity,  
His prayer turns to pure iniquity.   

Of Roaring Ned's endless End. Epig. 193.  
THe wiseman Pogg, shows needy roaring Ned  
(Who often blood hath brought, & often ble●)  
His endless end: which (well) he cannot choose;  
For all may see't will be an endless Noose.   

A hard choice. Epi. 184.  
I feign would marry; but, more fain li●e sole,  
Though without wife, I am but half my whole:  
For, man and wife one body make; and some  
By marrying, ma●re two Bodies. I am dumb,  
Or, know not what to say: For, this good-naught  
Makes me a fickle Sheptick in my thought:  
Yet, when I mean to wed, I'll leave their School,  
And, to be held more wise, play more the fool.   

Of a curate's having two wives at once given him in marriage. Epi. 185.  
A Parson, that one only Daughter had  
Matched her unto a Curate; but was glad  
To give, for lack of Portion to lay down;  
A Benefice, he held beside his own.  
But, in this Gift, he gave his so made Son,  
Two Wines at once, whereof this Gift was one:  
For, Papal Constitutions are of force,  
In this glad Match to make a sad divorce.  
With which two wives he lives, with much ado;  
The Teithe of one being Dowry to the two.   

Of rich Rook his kitchen-phisick against Vertigo. Epi. 186.  
RIch Rook eats bitter Almonds, as a Trick  
To keep down Fames, e'er to the wine he● wends  
And, so, he drinks till he with healths, be sick;  
So, bitter Means have. thus, more bitter Ends:  
But if this bitterness had turned to honey  
He would have sunk the World with Meath for money.   

Of Flavia's painting; and playing the Squirrel. Epigram. 187.  
Flavia is fair; yet paints herself: oh strange,  
That true, to feigned Beauty so should change!  
She bravely goes; and yet her Case is thought  
Bare, as her Pin-case, worn, with Pins, to nought:  
For, she for Coin (Like Venice) takes all Nations  
To exercise, in her, their Occupations;  
While she goes (like a Countess) in her Va●le;  
So, (Squirrell-like) she's covered with her Tail.   

Against Kit's weak wooing of Kate. Epigram. 188.  
KIt, art a Man? yet, get Kate canst thou not?  
Oh shame! sith with a Child she late was got.   

Of Fulvia's recreation, and occupation. Epigram. 189.  
FVluia, for recreation (as she swears)  
Danceth each day, as she were made therefore;  
The while her Dancing-Mate so charms her ears  
That soon she is bewitched to play the whore:  
So she (good hows-wife) turns her Recreation  
(Which takes up all her Time) t'an Occupation.   

On Phraxus his ever-secret passions. Epigram. 190.  
But of his secret Passions Phraxus speaks  
To his dear Mistress, while his grief she mocks  
Sith probably she weens (sith so he breaks)  
His greatest secret Passion is the Pox.   

Of Barbus his trial of a foolish conclusion. Epigram. 191.  
BArbus, by night, once reading in a Book  
That broad Beards argued folly; took a Glass  
And Light, with all, upon his own to look;  
Who burned it▪ ●hen he saw how broad it was:  
Then, in the margin, for this earnest jest,  
He verily may write Probatum est.   

Of the goodness and necessity of Physicians. Epigram. 192.  
SOme hold Physicians well may spared be  
In every State where men, in order, live;  
With whose opinion I can ne'er agree;  
And I have reason too; which thus I give;  
If they were spared, than Men would (like a flood)  
O'●ewhelm the World; Physicians than are good.   

Of their dearness. Epi. 193.  
LIke Hawks, Physicians ever are esteemed;  
Which as they kill Thrush, Partridge, Duck, or Crane  
Are prized thereafter: so, is ever deemed  
Physicians skill by those they kill, or ●●ne.  
If but poor Clowns or Tradesmen they destroy,  
The are held of small account: if Lords, or Ea●les,  
Then more much, more: but if they skill employ  
To kill a Prince, theyare h●ld as d●ere as Peals:  
Then all Physicians, that would fain be dear,  
Employ their skill (at least) to kill a Peer.   

On traversing the error of an Action. Epigram. 194.  
ONe Lawyer once an others wife did woe  
That she with him would 〈◊〉 t●o:  
The issue joined, the husband 〈…〉  
(Seeing th'intruder quite his 〈…〉)  
He right well swinged them both for that compaction:  
So, canvased the error of their Action.   

Of Poggius his poor success in Palmisiry and wooing Epigram. 195.  
POggius (whose skill in Palmistry is poor)  
took up his Mistress hand, therein to p●y;  
Then said (and therewithal he sighed sore)  
Sweet, all my fortunes in your hand doth lie:  
Then safe I'll keep them for, and from you too,  
Quoth, she again; so, he for nought doth woe.   

Of true love. Epi. 196.  
TRue love's in talk, and in society;  
The rest, can Asses do aswell as we.   

Against the corrupt judgement of Bullus in choice, of his Wi●e.  
BVllus hath chose his wife but with his Eyes▪  
And left his Ears, lest they should them control,  
So she played fair in sight them▪ now, he cries  
His choice, before his Choosers, playe● him foul:  
If foul she play, and he doth see the same,  
His Eyes, and not his Ears, are still too blame.   

Of the Bastard Fluctus his being undone by his Drab. Epi. 197.  
FLuctus his doing Drab did him undo:  
And so a Drab hath made and marred him too.   

Of roaring Robulus his bloodless combats. Epi. 198.  
SOme men fight bravely without braving word  
But roaring Robulus near fighteth so;  
Who ever brawls; but, never draws his Sword;  
Or, if he do, puts up without a Blow:  
Yet, he being round with all, (not round to smite)  
Ciphers their Number that will roundly fight.   

Of Rufus his giving the lie, without a Stab. Epigram. 199.  
RVde Rufus to his Mistress gave the lie;  
For which she did protest Revenge, with speed:  
But She no reason hath for that; for why?  
When women lie, they stand men most in steed.   

Ioan's as good as my Lady. Epi. 200.  
IOane in the Darke's as good as my Lady;  
But I know a joan far better in Light:  
Yet I'll not deny but my Lady may be  
As lusty (at least) as joan in the night.   

Of Gnuffus his mis-matching his matchless fair Daughter. Epiram. 200.  
THe Crazier Gnuffus matched his daughter late  
To no great rich, though ancient, gentleman  
The good old man (according to his State)  
Lo●es-duties pays her, yearly (as he can)  
But sith She spends so fast, she pines (I fear)  
For want of Commings in her Charge to bear.   

Against a foolish Prattler. Epi. 202.  
THy tongue's so loose and light, that e'en thy breath  
Makes it so wag as it ●e●e still doth stand;  
Whose fustian Strains work Apprehensions Death:  
For, neither sad, nor mad them understand.   

Of our English Gallant● going in black in Lent. 203.  
Our Gallants every Lent go all in black  
As if with time they mourned for their offence  
But their life show; it's but to hide the knack  
Of subtle lightness clokt with gr●●● pre●ence:  
Then, were it but for that, they black should wear  
Sith they are not so good as they appear.   

Of Poets being dejected. Epig. 204.  
SOme Lands there are where men are without heads:  
Some, all hermaphrodits; some where the seeds  
Of men are black as Ink: Some, where they hie  
Without feet: Some, where they have but one Eye  
Placed in their forehead, having heads like dogs:  
S●me, where they are half fish; & live (like frogs.)  
In, or about the Waters: Some, where they  
Have brows so hard that no steel p●●●ce them may.  
Some where men change to wolves & beasts more vile  
And they resume their shape they had ere while.  
Some, where they mouthless are, and live by smell:  
Some, where their length lacks half of half an Ell●  
Some, where they G●ants be: Some, where they are  
Four footed, hairy, and like Beasts do far.  
Some, where they have a Foot of such ex●ent  
That from the Sun it shrouds then like a Tent:  
But Time nor Place such men could ever show,  
That live quite heartless as m●st Poets now.   

Of women's Metamorphosis according to time and place. Epigram. 205.  
SOme Women are in Churches Saints, or more;  
Angels abroad; at home too like 〈◊〉 Devil:  
At Windows, Sirens: Parrots, at the Door:  
And in their Gardens ●oats, or more uncivil:  
Yet tradesmen that near match till they have much,  
In deadly danger are to meet with such.   

'tis merry, when knaves meet. Epi. 206.  
Conceited youths▪ when they at wine are met  
'Mong other matters lig●●●y they inquire  
What well penned Pamphlet la●ely out is set?  
What merry Epigrams of ●oure Satire?  
Then fall they to repeat some sugared Li●es  
Of this or that man's: When some lustful Gull,  
Comes in with Nashes choosing V●lentines;  
To wit, his Dildo known to every Trull.  
I come (saith he) sweet Linen by thy leave;  
(O good, i'faith, (saith one) then on he goes)  
Softly my fingers up their Curtains heaves:  
And there Gomorrahs ●ilth (at full) he shows.  
All that can say this as their Pater noster  
Have seen the Lions, sweet well seasoned youths  
About the Muse's Minions still they muster  
To get some swelling lines to fill their mouths:  
But for their own Muse it doth ever sing,  
Rhyme without reason a common English thing.   

Against Balladders. Epi. 207.  
CHerillus, that: of many verses, made  
Seven only good: for which his poesy  
He had seven gobbes of Gold; and for the bad,  
He had a buffet on the Visnomy:  
If Balladers, that but deflower the Muse,  
Were so rewarded for their versif●ing.  
It would (like Pan) appear upon their Brows,  
Sith out of tune they do so often sing:  
For if seven lines they chance to draw aright,  
They million make that would make Patience smite.   

None can be sad and glad at once; if it be not in contrition. Epi. 126.  
STella, the Padua Poet, pleasant was;  
Pox on't, how Puppie-like, with P. I play:  
Ass for example: fie, away with Ass,  
Ass, cannot set a Sample (I dare say)  
He writes so ill: and so those Po●ts do  
That will at once write light and heavy too,  
For, at one time whose Muse is light and sad,  
I muse not though his Muse doth write as mad.   

Of and against the word creep. Epig. 209.  
Creep, is a Metaphor that's ever used  
In controverted questions of our faith;  
Wherein the word (orevsed) is much abused;  
For, this Schism then crept in, th'opponent saith.  
Though Creep be most significant to show  
How Errors came in slowly, more and more;  
Yet so to spurgall Creep to make it go  
still on that errand, shows our Tongues too poor,  
Or Wit's too bare: But now such questions deep,  
Do run abroad too fast they do not creep.   

Of the power and price of gold. Epi. 110.  
O Gold (the Darling of this later Season,  
Sole Lodestar to all hearts, Star to all eyes  
That canst do all without or Rhyme or Reason)  
How blest are they that most do thee surprise?  
By thee the jealous husband is appeased;  
The desperate Rival is well pacifi'de:  
By thee, the watchful'st Keepers soon are seized;  
By thee, th'unjustest wrongs are justified:  
By thee, the Vestal, true Wise, Widow, Trull  
Are bought and sold: the noblest Lady too,  
Will wive a Mony-Bag, if huge, and full,  
Who know their service, then, poor Knights will do.  
By thee each Lock is picked, each Gate ●lies open;  
Nay more; thy crowns can mightiest kings uncrown  
By ●hee, all things beaneth the heavenly Cope  
In Nature's power, are raised, or overthrown:  
Nay more, the very Lord of all this All  
(Who can no more beguile, than be beguiled)  
Was sold for money; and a sum but small;  
So thou art Dominus fac totum Styled.  
Yet runnest from me in Earnest, and in Game,  
Though oft I write with thee, to spread thy fame!   

Again of the same. Epi. 211.  
THe great'st are caught with Gold: for, give me It,  
I'll, make the Greatest my friend with little wit:  
But once if Gold and I at variance be,  
The Great will scorn; the Small, abandon me  
Though Wit and Grace I had▪ for, Wit, & Grace  
Are precious made with Gold: else both are base!   

Against Plumus his foolish pride. 212.  
PLumus is high, yet higher is his Heart:  
Loud, Pla●e and Coin he hath; yet hath he more;  
More Lands than Wit; more Coin and Plate, than Art:  
And yet the Arts (he swears) he doth adore:  
Hardhearted Arts, that for his kind good will,  
Permit base folly his high Heart to fill.   

Of my encountering a Wagtail, while I held my tongue. Epiram. 213.  
WHy fliest thou Muse, at Fame, that flies from thee?  
Or seekest to retrieve that thou canst not truss?  
Spare, spare thy Pains, & after Angels flee,  
That make their Takers Great, as Glorious!  
As at a Stationr's Shop I stood, at gave,  
There chanced to light a Wagtail (light as sine)  
And asked for Epigrams in Caged Phrase:  
Wherewith the Shop-man forthwith show'd her mine.  
What he (quoth She?) them pulled her mouth askew)  
Alas (good man) is this his Poetry?  
Yea (said my friend) them from her them she threw,  
As if she felt them touch her honesty.  
Still saying, He? yea, (said the seller 〈◊〉;  
And good they be, or else good Wits mistake  
That h●ld them such; So let them be (q●●th she)  
And, therewith all, another mouth did make,  
Thus by a mouth so wrested quite away,  
Had I like sentence: mean while mute I stood  
(Poor Innocent) and durst not a●ke her why  
She so did slight them that were held so good:  
For, they are still defiled that Pitch do touch;  
So, I forbore to touch this ●l●●y Thing,  
Although She made me swell, and g●●eue, and grudge;  
Vowing this bitter wayward Wasp t'vn●ling:  
But 'tis not possible I should prevail;  
For, spite of me she'll have it in her tail.   

My Corollary.  
But yet her pride, expressed with such disdain,  
Humbled me much, that looked for much applause:  
That Puttock made me Peacock vail my Train:  
And thought her sent of purpose for that cause:  
Thus waxed my mind more sweet b'her bitter doom  
And so, sometimes the bad do better some!   

Of roaring boys Resolutions. Epi. 214.  
THe roaring Boys exclaim against their Peter,  
And say, he died not as he lived a space:  
Who melted at his death like Shelto●s Meeter  
That's harsh; but yet inclined t'a little grace:  
But he that holds it out, when he is in  
(In Newgate) till they be at Tyburn trust,  
Like a true Devil: (whose grace is all in Sin)  
This man, in their account, is only just:  
But, if at last to grace he once but yield,  
he's like a Boy, and died but like a Child.   

Against carnal desire. Epigram. 215.  
O Dammed Desire, what spirit hath thee inspired,  
That (like the Moon) dost wax and wane in change  
Afflictions water cannot quench thee, fired:  
Nor loathed Dis●ase estrange thee from the strange  
Thy pleasure's but a moment (if it be  
A pleasure which so soon to Pain doth turn.)  
And thought it wastes the Marrow feeding thee,  
Yet still thou burnest while thou hast aught to burn  
Thine heat is hateful (falsely called love)  
Made by the motion of the foulest Mind:  
For when thou dost thy sweetest pleasures prove,  
They cloy, but not content thee: so, behind  
Thy pleasure rests: which thou (tired) canst not try;  
So, thou art made but weak, not holp thereby.   

Against Chione her feeding on fat Woodcocks. Epigram. 116.  
O Chione thine Eyes all Eyes do feast,  
Thy Lake-laid Cheeks excel the reddest Rose;  
Thine ivory Front, and Alabaster Breast  
Do m●n entice, as Carrion ticeth Crows:  
I see great men thou drawst; and smile to see  
How thou dost plume on them, and they on thee.   

Against Aglaope, her sweet voice, and sour vice. Epigram. 154.  
AGlaope, (that courted is of States,  
Whose Angels voice the Angels imitates)  
Still lullabies all mortal Cares asleep,  
Such due proportion still her voice doth keep;  
But yet her voice (as voice of People goes)  
Doth nought but (Siren-like) work people woes.   

Of Phagus his being a Papist inward. Epigram. 218.  
PHagus his paunch is grown beneath his knees,  
So many fat Recusants he devours;  
But does it but for good, the World well sees:  
That's for good Cheer, as long as life endures:  
Than sith he feeds on sheep Catholical!  
His Guts (at least) are most papistical!   

In defence of women's well clothing and dressing themselves. Epigram. 219.  
GAmphalantes, (that naked Labians are)  
Live peaceably (poor Souls) sith bare they be:  
Adam and Eve the while they naked were,  
They lived (good Souls) in great tranquillity!  
And yet while men are bare, they live in peace,  
As having nought wherewith to vex each other:  
But wom●n being bare, men would oppress  
And so insult upon them altogether:  
That makes all women covet still good Clothing,  
Lest men should fall to Lusting or to Loathing.   

Of Knights of famous memory. Epigram. 220.  
OF Cirus thus the Histories report  
He knew his Soldiers names by memory,  
Although they were (almost) a countless sort,  
Yet he by name knew all that Company!  
'Twas strange (were't done by Nature or by Art.)  
But some Knights of my knowledge can do this;  
Let any Peasant dwelling in that Part,  
At New-yeares-tyde, but of a Present miss  
they'll know him after twenty years (perhaps)  
(O memory of rate continuance!)  
Poor Peasant be thou ware of afterclaps:  
For, thou art well remembered with a vengeance:  
Such Art of memory such Landlords use,  
As Capon-cram their kitchens with their Muse.   

Against telling of incredible Truths. Epigram. 221.  
Soothsayer Accius, in Tarquin's sight, they say,  
Did with a Razor forthwith cut in two  
A Whetstone; which I think (as well I may)  
Is wondrous hard for men of God to do:  
And if a man somewhere should this maintain  
He sure should have the Whetstone for his pain.  
Then better leave (sometimes) some Truths untold  
Lest some men should true men for liars hold.   

Against Canizius his witty familiarity. Epigram. 222.  
CAnizius hath a fine faceed conceit;  
A pleasant Wit, but most unprofitable:  
To Cheat by Rules of Art he hath the flight;  
And therewithal he is most affable;  
For in an Hour, aswell as in an Age,  
Familiar grows, and shows his Consenage!   

Of Aristotle's faith concerning women's flesh. Epigam. 223.  
ARistotle, (who had no common Wit)  
Thought common women should have adoration:  
For, he t'his Hermia performed it;  
Yea, sacrificed to her with veneration:  
If all his Doctrines were like this, I knew,  
His true disciples would not be so few.   

Of Dawlus his finding of a light jewel in the Dark Epigram. 224.  
DAwlus, upon his Way, late, in the Dark,  
A jewel found, which every man Might wear.  
'Twas full of Spirit; nay more a fiery Spark,  
That stood, t'inflame Desire of Vseing, There:  
It was a precious Punk, yet seemed too cheap,  
But found too dear: for, while he Cultured her  
And therein sowing, She his Purse did reap  
Grown to the full'st; and Inned it other where.  
And so, at once his Crime and Cross he bore  
For Closing in a Common to the poor:  
Nay, sure, his Crosses She did all engross;  
For, for his pains, She left him ne'er a Cross!   

Of the best Playmakers deere-bought praise. Epigram. 225.  
PLay-wrights your Trade is tickle, full of toil;  
For, you are bound to please the thwartest Minds  
Who (like cros-seas, that rough Winds still turmoil)  
Tosle up & down your praise, with various Winds!  
It's easy to cry Hiss; but, 'tis not so  
To silence it, and Claps of hands to raise:  
Not as at brawling Dogs, where both We do;  
But into Claps, that Clap up all with praise.  
Those whom ye trade with, weigh your skill and pains  
By their own gains; &, though all three be great,  
They weigh not you according to their Gains;  
But by your Skills, that Fame and Famine get:  
Then of all Glory, purchased by the small,  
A Play-wright, for his Praise, pays most of all!   

Againts justice Boniface his injustice. Epigram. 226.  
THough justice Boni-face do lack much law,  
Yet lacks no lawless skill huge Bribes to draw  
So, sells ●e justice for a currant Fee,  
That all may justice currant from him see:  
If all his justice currant be, like this;  
He may pass currant where nought currant is.   

Against the manner of our modern Duels. Epigram. 227.  
STay Gallants; ●un not on, with wrong too rise;  
Away with this damned Custom which ye use:  
Is't not enough to venture Soul and Life  
On valours terms, and no man to refuse?  
But must I come up too, upon no Guards,  
That Bulk to Bulk may justle; (hit, or miss;)  
And they exposed to scorn, that scorn not Wards;  
Are we turned Beasts to think us Men for this?  
Sir, do your worst; here stand I That to dare,  
It I defendant be: If Challenger;  
Have at ye, with brave courage; yet with Care  
Of being Foiled, that here but once can err:  
If this no Manhood be, thus well to pass,  
I hold the bravest Man, the plainest Ass.   

Of my Foes and their dwelling. Epigram. 228.  
MOst of my Foes dwell 
(o) At the sign of jerusalem between Strawberry Bank, and Primrose hill.  in jerusalem;  
Then, most are Turks, few Christians are with them.   

Of a letter in favour, that proved an ●inderer in fact. Epigram. 229.  
Paulinus, prayed a friend, of noble Blood,  
To write his Letter for a Benefice  
Unto a Bishop for Paulinus good,  
Which he did to Paulinus prejudice:  
For, he writ coldly: so, the Letter proved  
A letter of the suit the Letter moved.   

On Glaius and bri●ht M●strisse Grace a Light-one, that lightened a work of Darkness. Epigram. 230.  
GRace in the Dark, stood full in Glaius way,  
Whose brau'ry (like the sum) turned night to day  
She would not mo●● although she moved him much  
Nor speak; although he did her homely touch;  
Yea touched her to the quick in Sinful Case:  
So, Glaius quickly deadly synod with Grace.   

Of signor Shancus his feeding upon Weeds turned into good Meat. Epig. 231.  
SPruce signor Shancus hath good Clothes, and 〈◊〉  
Escheated to him oft, (great Lord of ●●●tle)  
Yet oft, in summer pawns his winter-weeds▪  
And them redeems with those which Summer breeds:  
So, makes great shift with small; great cause (I think)  
His Clothes must yield him coin, & meat, & drink:  
For, if, with Coin he should redeem his Clothing,  
He should be Something that should feed on nothing.  
So, Still should cry any food any feeding. etc.   

On a work of Supererogation. Epigram. 231.  
THere is a place upon this middle Earth,  
Where men, that used much fasting, oft did eat:  
There, certain Terms of years they fed with mirth;  
And, honesty the Place did then entreat.  
But when an housewife, that was Catholic,  
Or too too Universal, had set up  
An Ordinary near, for dull and quick,  
Away went they, with her, to dine; and sup:  
'Twas Charity to help a poor beginner;  
And, for her gain, in love, to use this Sinner.   

Gf Vlalia's Visitations. Epigram. 232.  
VLalia, in a Choch, as bright as Sun's,  
To visit Ladies goes from Place to place▪  
And, as she goes, the thundering Chariot runs  
To show (as Phoebus doth) her bright-light ●ace:  
But, while she visits Ladies in pretence,  
She entertains some Lord's Incontinence.   

To Sir john Harrington. Epigram. 233.  
I Dare not say your Wit was wisdom pointed,  
When you in Ajax had your Wit anointed:  
Sith by no small Fools, yet accounted wise,  
Such strains of Wit are held but Fooleries:  
But, this I say, and say what well I wot,  
(Ulysses upon Ajax played the Sot:  
For, what you put in Ajax, was more worth,  
By odds, than what Ulysses then put forth.   

Of Faustine's plain and pert well-doing. Epigram. 234.  
FAustine delights to dance, to Mask, and Mum,  
But while she either doth she doth agree  
(In sight, yet secretly) to Do with so●e;  
Yet, so she doth that every Eye may see  
She's a good Doer: (badly-good) the whiles  
She never deceives those Eyes she to beguiles.   

Of Fulvia her high flying. Epigram. 235.  
FVluia now flies abroad (fly high my Muse)  
Upon the restless Wings of high Desire:  
She stoops to none but Lords: for she doth use  
To fly no lower, but flies ofter higher:  
She is well born and bred; so bears to breed (seed)  
Brave Barns, full stuffed with bright (though Bastard   

Of the Game called; Laugh and Lie down, Epigram. 236.  
I See and laugh, still laugh at what I see,  
De●ocritus, therein I play thy Part:  
I see some Madams, honest held to be,  
That oft in sport do whore it, by their Art:  
Yet (merely) seem chaste, till they be nigh down,  
So still I laugh to see them laugh and lie down.   

Of the force of my Lo: Mayor's Pageant. Epigram. 237.  
MY Lord majors Pageant, though it be (I grant)  
Weak for invention, (but of strong effect)  
Yet draws some Madams, like an Adamant,  
So light they be, and light Shows so affect:  
No; 'tis no Pag an't makes them thither go;  
But to be priest for Venus' service so.   

Against sapless Sottus his unkind heat. Epigram. 238.  
A Thousand pound a year, yet hair, nor heir.  
Hath Sottus; but still wears, a Coif, or Cap:  
If Man b●a Tree (turned upward) and his Hair,  
Be as the Roots; then Sottus hath no sap  
In Winter: no; for Virgoes heat before  
Hath dried him, with a Pox, and will do more.   

On Sirrah and his Wife Sarahs' false play with him, for his profit. Epigram. 239.  
SIrrah, come hither; let me speak with thee:  
hark in thine Ear; thy Wi●e plates false (they say)  
With thee at Tick-tack: Peace; o silent be:  
She hurts thee not; yet wins much by her play!  
A while ago, thou knowst, thou ●ast but poor;  
But, since, by false play she so much hath got  
That now thou keep●st he Wolf well, from the door;  
Though yet (perhaps t●ou canst not keep the Goats  
For, she bears men a pace, (as rich a● dainty)  
So still she wins, for thee, the Horn of Plenty!   

Of Gallae's too good agreement with me. Epigram. 240.  
Even as a Glass reflects a man's own shape  
Upon himself; so Galla doth to me;  
Sin les, when I sim●●e; nay gapeth when I gape;  
And sigheth when I sigh; as one were we:  
But o my mind this hollow Glass suspects:  
Because she burns aswell as she reflects.   

Of Fannius his fear. Epigam.  
FAnnius with fear of death, now, dead doth lie:  
And so he died, to kill his fear to die.   

Of Frigus that died the first night he lay with his wife. Epigram. 250.  
FRig●s ioy-drowned, died lying with his Wife,  
So died through too 〈…〉, or too much life.   

Of one who being a Dwarf, or little higher, kept a great tall fellows wi●e. Epigram. 251.  
FAlina, hath good sport at home full oft  
Between her Ox, and Ape: jack, come a fit.   

Of Flavius single combat: who had a valiant man to his sire, was so himself; but had a Whore to his mother, and a Rig to his daughter. Epi. 252.  
THat Flavius fought bravely; and maimed his Foe  
He as his Fathers own true Son did so:  
But being thrust into the Belly,  
Yet received it with laughter,  
He took that of his mother,  
And gave it his daughter.   

The best Kings Ire burns more than Fire. Epigam, 253.  
WHen the dark Cloud of Princes secret hate  
Is ready to break out, out Flies it then  
With lightning and loud thunder, to amaze  
And quite root out the hated Man from Men!  
Then as thou wouldst not die by thunderclaps,  
Incur no hate of Kings what ever haps.   

Video et taceo. Epigram. 254.  
AS he that (over-curious) Bane receives  
To know the quality and force of it,  
Dies, by that force, ere he th'effect perceives;  
(And worthy too, for fooling so with Wit)  
So, they that love to look too curiously  
Into the lives of Kings, their fault to know,  
Oft so over see themselves, in what they see,  
That they, thereby, themselves quite overthrow!  
For, such as are not pleased with Phoebus' Rays,  
That yields all comfort unto all that live,  
But needs must see how he his Beams displays,  
And the whole Body, that such light doth give:  
No marvel though they blind themselves thereby;  
Then wink (with Sem) when thou dost faults descry,  
For, no Spie's in such danger as this Spy.   

To my dear Liege Lord King james. Epigram. 255.  
utopical State-Writers (who do pen  
With Idleness, and have no interest  
Nor knowledge in the rules tha● govern Me●)  
New Models make of Rule, that still do rest  
On disproportioned joints of Reg●m●nt  
Of Nations different in their Rules extent:  
Which in the State of▪ kindle quenchless fires:  
But thou rul'st right without these skyruy Squires.   

Again to my Liege Lord King james. Epi. 256.  
WHen those cursed hearts and hands (that sought thy death)  
Distressed thee (dear Liege) near thy latest Breath,  
Yet then, like Gold in fire, thy Virtue shone;  
That is; in worth, to look, and Be all one.   

On Sir john Roe. Epitaph. 257.  
ROe, thou art gone in height of Youth and Fame,  
As from a Feast, ere Surfeit thee o'ercome.   

Of and against Earelesse Praxus. Epi. 258.  
THe handle for true Virtue to take hold  
Of old and young by; is the open Ear;  
But, Praxus having lost his Ears, how should  
He ere be virtuous or not vicious ere.   

Against Sottus ●is long wrong knowledge. Epi. 259.  
IT is unmeet that Sense abroad should stir,  
And (like a wanton rig) at random run:  
But when her sovereign reason commandeth her  
Upon some urgent cause; which being done,  
T'returne with speed to her, that sent her out,  
T'inform her in her doubts of good or ill:  
Then like a sober Handmaid, keep about  
Her Sovereign reason, to do what else she will:  
But, Sot, his sense from reason hath ranged so long,  
(And do●es on all) that all he knows is wrong.   

Of the Carpet Knight's Sir Sim Soused Gurnerd his Quater-braules. Epi. 260.  
SIr Sim Soust-Gurnerd, loves notes fresh & sweet,  
And hath an Organ Chambered next the street,  
Whereon he plays of purpose as appears,  
To have all passers by him by the Ears:  
Yet sweetly brawls in tune with strokes of Art,  
But dares not strike a Discord for his heart.   

Of Cracus his facing out Falsehood or facing truth. Epi. 261.  
CRacus if thou didst know, (but O thou breakest  
The heart of Knowledge with thine ignorance)  
how il thou gard'st thy faith, for which thou speak'st  
Thou near wol'st speak but with thy countenance:  
For that scar●s babes sith thou fightest (being stout)  
Better with swords than words: than face it out.   

Of false praise. Epi. 262.  
THe praise of Arts, which ill we deem,  
Like smoke goes out as soon as seem:   

The rightest Servingmen are the rightest Courtiers. Epi. 263.  
COurtiers may servingmen be styled: what then?  
Then, cannot they serve God, for serving men.   

How an Harlot is like Hell. Epi. 263.  
A Strumpet's like the ugly mouth of Hell,  
That night and day is open to receive  
All sinners that will pay for sinning well;  
Which still she stakes and of● the Pox doth give.   

Counterfeit Piety is double iniquity. Epigram. 264.  
OLd Will upon the Sabath will not lose  
A Sermon for his Dinner; yet (though pure)  
Cheats like a Devil: for, about he goes,  
At play, all simple sinners to devour:  
He needs not then, at Sermons sit so civil  
For fear of hell, being an incarnate Devil.   

Against powdered Hair. Epigram. 265.  
THe Days of old did Ashes use to throw  
(In sign of meekness) on the humbled Head:  
But now, in sign of Pride (in Heart, and Show)  
Our Madams cast sweet-powder in their stead:  
But they whose Tops are ever powdered so,  
Their T— (most commonly) are Pickled too,   

Against Gallus, his treachery and tyranny to Galla. Epi. 266.  
GAllus found Galla (ere she quite was lost)  
Where Time & Place betrayed her to his lust:  
Yet first the faire-Maide his soul offer croft,  
But he (like joab) stabbed, as her he bust:  
Which she took patiently: how e'er afraid:  
And so a Goat like Man the Maid dismayed.   

Against the stink of Marens his sweetness. Epi. 267.  
Lascivious Marc goes still perfumed I think,  
But yet his sweetness makes his fame to stink.   

Of the compass of his lusts designs. Epig. 268.  
MArc in the compass of his Lust's designs,  
Is like a Circle in Geometry:  
He; goes from point, to point, until he joins;  
Then puts a Period to his Lechery:  
A Period call it, or full point, or (.)  
All's one to him, so he therein doth stick.   

Against Gella and her consumption. Epi. 268.  
GElla is light, and like a candle wasteth,  
e'en to the snuff that stinketh more than lasteth,   

Against the ill cure of Gallus the Surgeon, upon Gaila. Epi. 70.  
GAllus the Surgeon, now, is poor as job  
For healing Galla whom with Child he got:  
He cu'rde one Wound, another with his Probe  
He gauged too deep: and so was overjoyed  
In his own craft; who made her, to his shame,  
So swell, that all his worth scarce heals the same.   

Against Fuluiae's Transcendency. Epi. 271.  
FVluia is brought to nought; then cannot she  
In the Predicaments comprised be,  
So, some Transcendent she must be of force;  
But how that is, transcendeth my discourse●  
Yet now I have't t'a hair; she doth transcend  
All that the Pox can m●rre & nought can mend.   

Against proud great-bellied Ventus, the Smell feast. Epi. 272.  
THe word Maiestas, of these two composed  
Mayor and Status, argues great estate:  
Then O, how vainly Ventus is disposed,  
To strut and look as if he had no M●te:  
When (God doth know) that if his state be great,  
It's in his paunch with eating others meat.   

Against Vulpus his endless distinguishing. Epig. 273.  
EXact Distinctions breed perspicuousnesse;  
But many breed but loathed Obscurity:  
This, Vulpus makes, to show his nimbleness;  
In arguing, to distinguish endlessly:  
Which if he do, but truth so to deprave,  
I'll prove him without Logic but a Knave:  
If this Style be to common; him I'll make  
A learned Knave for true distinctions sake.   

Poet's gain is Fame and Famine. Epigram. 274.  
THe Poets proper Ensign is the Swan  
Sole Bird of Phoebus: so it well may be;  
For, she doth sing before her death: so, Man  
(Turned Gull) called Poet, makes that melody:  
Because he sings before his death and Fame,  
So, perisheth, through want, to get a Name!   

Against the envy of Muranus. Epigram. 275.  
MEagre Muranus feeds on his own Heart,  
Still envying all that are of good desert:  
So, he is like an Eye diseased, whose sight  
Is still offended with what e'er is bright.   

Against gormandizing miserable minded Fagus. Epigram. 276.  
FAgus is fat, and swelleth more and more  
As if Cram'd-Capons did but poison him:  
He nought but feeds, though never feeds the poor  
And like a paunch in sweat, doth, sinking, swim:  
His Mind is so choked up with Grease and blood,  
That though he ere be Great he'll ne'er be good.   

Against the bare Breasts of too well clothed wenches. Epigram. 277.  
WHy bore ye so your Breasts, audacious dames?  
Is it to give men's eyes a taste of that  
You yet do hide, t' augment their lustful Flames?  
Or else to draw their tongues to wanton Chat?  
It seems y'are hot, that so low naked go,  
And look for cooling at some Vent below.   

No Kingdom to Content. Epigram. 278.  
WIlt thou be rich? then thy desire decrease;  
So shall thy wealth, in want, amain increase.   

Spare, to spend; like thine own friend. Epigram. 279.  
RVfus lived hard, to make his Heir live soft,  
But his Heir lived as hardly for his Heir:  
So they like Conduct-pipes conveyed oft  
(from pipe to pipe) great store of water fair  
Retaining none themselves; till, at long running,  
By some hole in their Coat (how ever gay)  
The Prince cuts off the Pipe, in Fortune's sunning,  
And turns the Watercourse an other way:   

Again, on the same Subject. Epigram. 286.  
BOtts on these Masks & Clouts which now are set  
To hide such Fronts that for such lies excel;  
Well-coloured Gorgon's made when Nature sweat  
Too much to hold her Working-toole too well:  
So, are but Nature's shame, and Grace's scorn;  
Yet in Charoches bear they, and are borne.   

Of Lord Volsus his ●is-v●●g his friends. Epigram. 287.  
THe guileful great Lord, Volsus, useth still  
His friends like Bottles through his Court●ly skill:  
For, he (o fie, what friend can him abide?)  
The full draws dry, the empty casts aside.   

Against golden Asses. Epi 288.  
MAny men- Beasts go gilded now at all Pieces,  
who are at best, but Sheep with golden-flee●es:  
If that in Colchis had been of this sort▪  
jason had played the Sheep ere Shipped him for't.   

Of physicians abiding at bath. Epigram. 289.  
LEeches, at Bath, for Wealth, not health do wait,  
So, come not to the bath, but to the Bait.   

Of Flavia's ●s looks after her fall. Epigram. 290.  
Flavia looks feebly since she caught a fall:  
So, looks as if She could not Do withal.   

Against the wretchedness of richmen. Epigram. 291.  
THe Griffons 'mong the Indians keep their Mines  
Of Gold, yet they no use thereof do make:  
So, a monied-Miser midst his plenty pines;  
And Money keeps for moneys only sake:  
Kepthe a Whore as well, than Sin they would not:  
For, her he would not use, and others should not.   

Against Flexus his being sick of the Fashions. Epigram. 292.  
FLexus, still goes in many Fashions light  
Like a Chameleon that all Colours takes:  
Or not vnl●ke a Creature (Nabis hight,)  
Which having many shapes, one Monster makes.   

Of Rutus his indifferency in Religion. Epigram. 293.  
RVtus holds all Religions; and in all  
He is of none; like a still sliding Bourne  
That takes all colours which therein do fall  
It having none: then he'll not burn but turn.  
He that's without Religion, is, at least,  
For his Souls sake, a fair immortal ●east.   

Against Flauiae's levity. Epi. 295.  
LIght of belief, of word, and promise light  
Is wanton Flavia: light in Mi●d and Will:  
Light of her Body: and her Eyes (though bright)  
Are light, and light to works of darkensse still:  
The weeds she wears are light, as bright: then she,  
(Being all so light must needs self lightness be.   

Of a Trick of Youth. Epi. 296.  
CArnus, calls lechery a Trick of youth:  
So, he grows old, but this trick lets his growth.   

Against great Farthingales. Epig. 297.  
Down with your Farthingales, Trulls out of frame  
(sick of the Fashion) for, they mount too high:  
They hide your Waste: O no, they show the same;  
That is; your Antic Superfluity:  
The time hath been, they did the heels surround;  
But now they do the head; and men must lean  
Upon your shoulders, from the upper Ground,  
To look down for your middle, without mean:  
Your Waste is shameful then, sith it to hide,  
Your English Bummes are still so Frenchifide.   

Against promise-breaking. Epi. 298.  
VEntus doth promise much; yet still doth break;  
So all his promises are great, and weak,  
Like Bubbles in the water (round and light)  
Swelling so great that they do break outright.   

Against the misery of rich M●sers. Epi. 299.  
VArus shuts up his Coin from all with Sparrs;  
And, from himself, he locks it most of all:  
For all his Thoughts (too hard●like Iron Batres)  
Keep it from him, so lives on pittance small:  
He ha●h not what he hath; wealth makes him want,  
Yet thinks he still to last, being Adamant;  
If so he should, in ca●es that so excel,  
he's damned already: for he's here in hell.   

O● and against Pegus his oft change of faith: Epig. 300.  
PEgus is pleased his faith now thrice to turn,  
Yet nevertheless is hot as fire therein:  
But, dares not hang; and, much less dares he burn:  
No; that's to lose but, he doth change to win:  
But, while he sought to win so, it ensu'th,  
His Tongue at Trey-trip played; so, lost his truth.  
That might be Kings for wit though his be vile,  
Yet for that jerk of Wit for clapping looks:  
Where he well clapped, he should be cla●t for it  
In Bridewell to correct his Will and Wit:  
There, sith he lives by such dull jurks a jurke,  
Of justice hand would make the Player work▪   

Of a Man in Print. Epi. 313.  
A Man in Print; once such a Man I saw  
Who whipped but Vice in Print; and then did draw  
Himself in Print, so much in Print, that he  
Comes thus in Print, reform, in Print, to be;  
While he that whipped but Vice in Print doth storm,  
For being a Vice in Print so much in Form.   

Of a Master of Art that lay, by the instinct of Nature, with one Mistress Barbara all night. Epi. 314.  
BOssius and Barbara (his Love) one night,  
Chop't Logic with their Tongues, and other things,  
He priest her to the point in loves delight  
And that unto the Issue still she brings:  
So, while she argued unlike Deborah,  
He Sillogizd all night in Barbara.  
But had the Proctors heard his Mastership,  
The Moderator should have been a whip.   

Of my lying between two Queans. Epi. 315.  
Between two Drabs I lie (with much ado)  
Each night; yet lie in several houses too:  
They (Starchers) neighbour me so near, that I  
May well be said between them both to lie.  
They will (good- Doers) let me near, be idle;  
For, with their Tongues (as sharp as is their needle)  
They prick me forward to be doing still;  
So my Part play they; and my Belly full  
With Throes of these: dear Brid-well do thy part,  
Deliver me of these, to ease my Hart.   

Against jacks Perjury, in proving his honesty. Epigram. 316.  
NOw, as I am an honest Man, saith jack,  
(Whose looks, & life, religiously, are black)  
At eu●ry word, which wounds his faith (they say)  
And is belyued the clean contrary way.  
Yet out-talks all, to all his hearers woe;  
And, by that no-oath swears, 'tis so, or so.  
He lives by Carding; yet the State may stand  
Without his labour, languor to the Land.  
False to his friend; and so to God may be,  
Yet as I am an honest Man (cries he)  
The truth is so; ist so john (Yes▪ 'tis true  
Thou art to God, and to thy Friend, a jew.   

Of Calpus his making much of a Little. Epigram. 317.  
CAlpus, hath little Latin; yet he makes,  
Much of that little: for, he undertakes  
To teach his Friends; yet, while to them he reads,  
With Art he cheats them; so, in Art proceeds;  
And, learns them little Latin with much Art;  
Which ere they learn, thus jerks them till they smart  
So, with his little Latin much he makes;  
Which is his Snare to cousin all it takes.   

Against Rollus his great building for little fame. Epi. 317.  
ROllus, still builds alive to keep his name:  
But, L●●e and Stone keeps no immortal fame  
For, they will waste; then, in that waist (ye wot)  
His Fame must lie; and, so his Name must rot.   

Against Don Puffs incomparable adaciousnes. Epi. 318.  
LOrd! how Don Puff, with his left handed Face  
Scrues himself into Action in high Place:  
May men do so that better can deserve?  
No, i● they be not Scrues some holes to serve.   

The Tears of Peace.  
WHy do these Times complain of want in Peace?  
Are Peace and Plenty our, that blessed increase  
Hath left us? No; they are not out, but in;  
In strife While Plenty leaves us Peace in sin.   

Against the worst of Lawyers. Epi. 320.  
LAwyers, how is it that such Fees ye take,  
not concord, (which ye should) but strife to make  
ist for that strife, not Peace, maintains your life?  
Than, strive by peace to live; so, live by strife.   

Of an ill Custom ●eere good Customers. Epi. 321.  
THere is a thing some call the Customhouse,  
Which when as Tradesman hath a Spider ta'en,  
At point to break, prevents the deadly Bane,  
By ways familiar; so, too oft in use;  
With Hundreds they of others hold in chief,  
They buy a Place there, to displace their grief.   

Epi. 322.  
SIr Volsus door is still with Suitors thronged;  
His door the more oppressed; &, he more wronged:  
For, if this Wit and honesty ye weigh,  
Himself at every door should stay, and pray.   

Of stupid Binus his preventing of time. Epigram. 323.  
Sigh Time flies fast away, his fastest flight  
Binus prevents with dreaming day and night.   

Against despertate Harrius his contempt of goodness. Epi. 324.  
Foolhardy Ha●rius, when himself he hears  
A Goodman called; he holds himself too good:  
So to be stilled, because (belike) he fears  
That Title hits not home his Manhood's mood:  
Sith he, to be a goodman, scorns (t'appear)  
I would he were a Saint, so hanged he were.   

Of Bombus the Buffoon, and his laughing Patronesses. Epigram. 325.  
THe Buffoon, Bombus feeds, by laughter, fat;  
Yet, makes he Ladies laugh a loud thereat:  
So, lives by laughter: and I laugh to see  
Both him, and Them ●so both my Buffoons be.   

Of Luscus his great Faith, and small Performance. Epigram. 326.  
LVscus, at last, hath got his Wife with Child.  
For, 'tis like him, her bribed Midwife swears:  
Which he believes: but, for he is beguiled,  
He hath his false Faith ever by the Ears.   

Of Roarers, soft speaking. Epigram. 327.  
SInce Duels damned were, by a Souraignes' doom  
The loudest Roarers speak in either's Ears:  
Yet dare not for their Ears to Calis roam,  
But, in the Streets, still end their Frays, and Fears:  
So, by the highway now, their Manboods live,  
Like Theeve that steal, in hope of a Reprieve.   

Of Scalpus his Hairs humility. Epigram. 328  
SCalpus, his Hair apparent, leaves his Crown,  
As fast as, in the Air, doth Thistle-downe:  
But, This with air doth so; but That, with Fire,  
Becomes so humble, that would else aspire.   

Of Phrynas, huge-limbd Husband's Metamorphosis. Epigram. 329.  
WHat! Phryna, is your Fere become your Maid?  
Make you a Woman of so huge a Man?  
Sets he your Russes for Cuffs, without your aid?  
O Hercules! belike then spin he can:  
But, were I yours, though I (perhaps) might reel,  
Yet, ere I spun, you should the Distaff feel.   

Of Soar Times hard to cure. Epigram. 330.  
THe Times are soar for Priests or Poets now  
To speak or write: if truth they do avow:  
Because the Times being soar, the●l ill endure  
The Corasines that, soarely, them must cure.   

Of Sir Lavoltas high soled shoes and vaulting in his going. Epigram. 331.  
LOrd! be these Shoes or Stilts that Knight goes on  
A Peacock's pace? who be't? Lavalta, Sir.  
What! Sir Lavalto? is he such a one?  
Yes; and his name doth in his nature, stir,  
For, as he stalks he strives himself to rear:  
As if his steps Lavolta-paces were.   

Of heavy load-●earing Birds. Epigram. 332  
OF the Bird Ruc, that bears an Elephant,  
Writes good Sir john, surnamed Mandevile;  
Increase my faith, dear Love; for 'tis too scant  
To credit this; but yet, here, in this Isle,  
There be some Bridewell Birds that well will bear  
(How ever ill) huge Men as Mice they were.   

Of the great traveler Fagus. Epi. 333.  
FAgus, Land-leaper, ali-as Grasshopper,  
Returned is from the Pigmies (pretty fools!)  
With his hide full of News: Nay, soft, ho there,  
It cannot be it is so full of Holes:  
For what with Scabs & Scars where such have been,  
It will hold nought: then no News lie therein.   

Against fond at furiors Frontus, his swaggering to regain his pawned Apparel. Epigram. 334.  
THe Brokers have fond Frontus' clothes as pledges,  
For Coin to keep his Corpse in sweetest sin:  
And being forfeited, he them besiedges  
With thundering oaths and blows his clothes to win:  
But they hold hard (hard horsons) without dread;  
So, anvil like, endure the Hammer-head.   

Against Spongus, a plain Farmer's Bastard, that had gotten to be of a great Lords bedchamber. Epigram 335.  
SPongus, what makes you so your Sire to scorn?  
Is it because he all in Freeze doth go,  
And you in golden coats, though overworn;  
That's cast Apparel of your Lords, or so?  
He honours you; you him in scorn forsake:  
So, makes an Idol of a Golden-Asle;  
While you yourself thereby a Devil make.  
That speaketh through a head whose brow is brass:  
Then spiritual whoredom he commits thereby,  
To honour him he made adulterously.   

Against signor Snap-haunce, the rude foolish Roarer. Epigram. 336.  
SNap-haunce speaks quick & loud; but still amiss  
White powder than were best for him; for, when  
He spits his spite, but leaden stuff it is,  
Which evermore annoys the sense of Men:  
Than Snap-haunce, cease to snap; for thy loud sounds:  
Do yield such noisome stuff that sense confounds.   

Against Rufus the Apollo her. Epigram. 337.  
RVfus, you write Appollogies to Cloud  
Your treachery with which you men delude;  
That, like a Cuttle▪ you may so, unviewed,  
Abuse th'incipient plumbeus multitude:  
Than sith you knavishly thus Cuttleize;  
I may, less lavishly, thus Inkhornize.   

Against a Merchants as light as bright Wife, still wearing a great Chain of Gold or'ethwart. Epigram. 338.  
SEe you yoked Merchant's wife, in Satin clad?  
It is Lucilla, Light as Levity.  
It cannot be, her Chain must make her sad,  
It is so heavy past all gravity.  
Nay▪ more, she'll Cared (that shows her housewifery)  
Away her Pence, by Pound●; her Pounds, by scores  
To make her Light: O then 'twas clean awry  
To call he● Light; for, Lightly, so be whores.  
That style's too soul for one so Fair and Rick:  
Than, better call her Fancy; or Proud- (.)   

Of myself. Epigram. 339.  
A Friend of mine reproud me, sith I was  
Too Busy in correcting Leebery;  
Saying I was too open. But, alas,  
I cannot help it handsomely; for I  
Must, ere I scourge it, open it (you know)  
That I my jerks the righter may bestow.   

Against jugus, his truth-swearing. Epigram. 340.  
IVgus still swears that he a true Man is,  
Than say so I●; for, still thou swearest amiss,  
Sith thou woul'st steal our good conceits thereby,  
Against our wills: so, thy true oaths do lie.   

What rich men must do to gain and retain the world's favour. Epigram. 341  
A Rich man that would have the world to friend  
Must either give (or at least) Spend or Lend:  
If neither; either he must live alone,  
Or, with too many pushed, be overthrown.   

Against the gallant Glossus his mis-measuring. Epigram. 342.  
GLossus is gallant, yet doth measure keep;  
He eats and drinks in measure; so doth sleep:  
He measures Lands in travel; so doth Seas:  
In Measure he doth dance, toils, takes his ease:  
Yet (Robin-Hood) meats, something● might be left  
He meats Maid●marions by the Bow, and Shaft.   

Of the Viol. Epigram 343.  
THe Viol speaks the language of the Hands;  
And, by the Fingers, Sense it understands.  
Yet, Fingers are the Vi●ls Fe●te: and so,  
As they do● run, the Viol still doth Go.   

How Maids resemble Eue. Epigram. 344  
MOst Maids resemble Eve now, i● their lives;  
Who are no sooner Women but are Wives:  
As Eve knew no Man 〈◊〉 Fruit wrought her Woe,  
So, these have Fruit (of●) ere their Pheares they know.   

Against Myntha, that would have been my Tenant for a fowl Fine. Epigram. 345.  
Mintha (ripe Medler) would be meddling still,  
With things that most concern me, by her will  
She under me would said have lived by doing  
Things in my house, for which she still was wooing:  
Her Lips, and Hips, in gross, she offered me  
For Fine▪ if so she might my Tenant be.  
So, I should be her Tenant, and she mine.  
For no great Rent, but for too gross a Fine:  
So●t Mintha, in some others house go prank ye;  
Yours is an Ordinary; I'll none, I thank ye.   

Of a man that proved a Slipper. Epigram. 34●.  
FRiscus took Slippers upon trust; and then  
He Slipped away; So Slippers (oft) are men.   

No good Wives in London. Epigram. 347.  
THe country's full of goodwives; specially  
The Wives of all the Clowns and Yeomanry:  
But Tripe-wives, Broome-wives, Oyster-wives, & all▪  
W●e still, in London, Mistresses do call:  
Then London hath no goodwives, sith they bide  
All in the Country, better occupied.   

Against the too too common, as most shawelesse countersetting the Stamp of Heaven (Beauty) by Painting; and the excessive bravery of Men, and Women of these Times. Epigram. 348.  
THomas Thomasius, an outlandish Witch,  
Sold Diu'ls for Dolours: Fame else loudly lied:  
And, as they were in power, he price did pitch:  
So, lived by selling Devils till he died.  
A pretty Occupation ●and ●ere he.  
Alive, and here to sell his Ware, he might  
Gain what he would, if his cursed devils would be  
Pleased to make Men and Women fair and bright  
For, now men fairly play the women too;  
Then, for his gain he might the Land undo:  
Nay, though they painted & but bo●rrowed raiment  
Tom, for his devils, should have royal payment.   

Of Raggus and his project. Epigram. 349.  
RAggus, with open mouth pursues strange Projects,  
And of the State, reviles the Eye of wit;  
That, having opened it, so many Prospects  
To worlds of wealth; yet, sees no benefit:  
Saw it as thou dost (Rag) that so dost rave,  
It saw but how to play the Fool and Knave:  
For with thy sight (at best) it would perceive  
Itself, and others how but to deceive.   

Probatumest. How Clerk Tho. his Clearkeship saved his Quean. Epigram. 350.  
Clerk Thomas kept a whore at his command,  
(Whom all commanded that had wealth or will)  
Yet kept her from the Gallows underhand,  
That under him she might be do●ng still.  
Fie Tom (great Clerk) thy skill doth kill thy fame  
For, by thy Clergy thou hast saved thy shame.   

Fast and loose. Epi. 351  
PAphus was married all in haste,  
And and now to wrack doth run:  
So, knitting of himself too fast,  
He hath himself undone.   

Of Long's being the least part of himself. Epigram. 352.  
ONe Long being served with process to appear,  
Appeared forth with; but 'twas another where  
Than where he should: and so, for his contempt,  
Was taken by a writ, no place exempt:  
Then, quite beside himself, came all aghast;  
Showing, That was not Long that came at last.   

To a blind Har: Par: Epigram. 353.  
SOme neighbour Nations when their Outlaws fly,  
Hang up their pictures which should them betide,  
So (●or thou Outlaw art in Poetry)  
Thy Picture I trust up on Time's backside.  
For which (too like it, without grace or wit)  
Thou martyrd'st me in thy Wits feeble fire:  
But shall I malice? no, I pity it:  
Sith thou art worthy of no witty Ire:  
For, thy Lines weakness all men wonder at,  
That (like a Parrot) prat'st thou wotest not what.   

Eundem. A blind Harper. Epi. 353.  
YEt with the Horns of thy weak power whose Root  
G●●●s through thy bro●s, but comes not nigh thy  
Thou but'st at wales; but I'll say nothing to't, (brain  
(Though I be Welsh) sith all thou dost is vain:  
Thy best is but to filch from good Sir john,  
Some Epigrams; whereof a Welsh is one.  
Then sith thy best is stol'n from Sir john Har:  
Thou art no Poet, but a blind Har: Par:   

He stole some Epigrams from Sir john Har. verbatim Of Casse and her Case. Epigram. 354.  
CAsse was in Case to draw on Suitors; which  
She loved a life: yet loved none but the rich:  
So, a heavy-metaled Boor, in C●sses Case,  
Carried her●●eaden Sow) from ●it and Grace.   

After the fall o● Man, of the fall of Women. Epigram. 355.  
NOw scarce a Waistcoater or Chambermaid,  
(Much les, much more) can go, though by the wall  
But by some Friend or Usher must be stayed,  
W●men are now so weak, and apt to ●all:  
Heaven stre●gth● them; for many a woman grown  
A Page's breath now often tilteth down.   

As the 〈…〉 crows, so doth the old. Epigram. 356.  
YOung Taurus, like his Sire doth fare & do,  
And, like his Wife doth bear as well as strike▪  
That's done by nature; and, by nature too,  
Old Taurus needs must get (this Calf) his like.   

Against lame Hipp. Epi. 357.  
OLd Hippolito; well, let him go; he is not worth  
The talking of; yet sets himself still forth  
As if he were a man might wear a rob,  
Although the old Scab, be as poor as Iob●.  
Nay, now I lye; for, job, though he had nought,  
Yet nought he owed; but, this poor patch is thought  
Much worse than Nought with wrangling; he is ●so)  
Poorer than job; for, job but scabs did owe.   

Against M●rnezetus, the well known Sharker, co●se●●●● me of a Cloak. Epig. 366.  
SIrrah, Marnezetus, me no more provoak;  
Go, cheat else where; with me y'have shorn your sheep  
Y'have Cloaked you're knavery: so, have got a Cloak,  
By c●eating of your friend; well, safe it keep:  
Yet, it restore to Cloak my Spleen and Me,  
Or lie uncloake thy name, thy shame, and Thee.  
But maugre Spite thy Name and fame shall gain  
A Place, and Name with Stars called great Charles-waine:  
Which still I wish; & who dothed not desire,  
Would they were nought as nought; or Tow in Fire.   

To the no less than most grave Counsellor of Counsellors, Thomas Viscount Brackley Lord Chancellor of England. Epi. 369.  
Y'Ave passed the Storms of Youth and Passion too;  
And now, in Calms of Age's Haven remain:  
Now sees your Soul most clearly what to do;  
And those undo that do their Conscience strain:  
In Sum, for all (that may your glory spread)  
Your pain your Brain, to ease, & please your Head.   

To the true Precedent of Honour, William Earl of Pembroke Lord Chamberlain. etc. Epig. 370.  
Dear Lord, to whom I wish a world of Good;  
If so; a World of Grace is understood,  
Agreeing to that World of Worth in Thee  
Too little Lord that great World's Lord to be.  
Grace, Art, and Nature, still in thee do strive  
Which most shall make thy praise Superlative;  
And make thee most like Him, that all things can,  
And Philip, more than Macedonian:  
Then, ●●ll be like thos● Two▪ as now thou art;  
And, as thou hast; so, 〈◊〉 shalt have my Heart.   

To the Right noble, and my much honoured Lord, Philip Earl of Montgomery. Epi. 371.  
A Mother sooner can forget her Child,  
Than I Thee (Lord of my best Memory)  
Could I mind more, thou shouldst be higher styled;  
But, this is all I can, unless to die  
For Thee and thy most Noble House: whereof  
I am an Excrement not yet cut off.   

To the true Patterns of Noblesse and Heroical virtue, Richard Earl of Dorset, and Sir Edward Sackuill Knight of the ●ath his most noll. Brother. Epigram. 372.  
YOu Stars that in our State's Sphere shine as bright  
As Suns fixed near our Zenith, daying Night:  
Still on such Dayes-eyes shine (though planted low)  
By Fortune's hand, as turn to such as you  
To be set open, when ●hey (hid) hang down  
Their heads for want of Grace to make them known.  
I need not force the free; you shine on such,  
No Stars within our Hemisphere so much:  
So much for that; but this much more for you,  
(though more you cannot have then is your due)  
You, for your high Worths Rays, I'll Raise to be  
Castor and Pollux both to Heaven and me.   

To the Right noble Lord, Theophilus, Lord Walden. Epigram. 373.  
My Cunning sooner shall my right hand leave  
Than not to give where once it did receive:  
But, Golden Air to give, for Golden Earth,  
Is less Material, and no cause of Mirth:  
Yet, Ca 〈…〉 M●rth 〈◊〉 Papers do enfold:  
That I, in 〈◊〉, do give thee for thy Gold:  
But wh●●, in earnest I would give (with mirth)  
To thee, is glory; both in Heaven, and Earth.   

To the Right Honourable Sir Francis Bacon Knight. etc. Epi. 259.  
THi'admired Sire was Wit & Wisdoms Source;  
And thou his Son, resemblest him in those:  
Thy Hand is open; close is thy Discourse:  
For; much in few, thy thy judgement doth enclose.  
But, when thou art disposed to set open  
A Flood of Eloquence, to Wha●t all Ears  
With headlong sway) unto thine v●mos● scope,  
●hen, stubbornest Rocks of Le●s it overbears:  
So, thou dost grace the Law, as it doth Thee;  
But, of all Lawyers, Thou alone for me.   

To my much honoured the Lord Hayes. Epigram. 375.  
THou dost the Court Lord too much grace,  
To be forgotten in this place:  
Where I desire to praise such Ones  
As (worthy) are Court-Minions.  
Then, this thou art (I dare avouch)  
A Good, Great Courtier (seldom such!)  
That's honest with due Complement;  
Which is most noble in e●tent:  
here, sith no further Grace, hath gone,  
●●e put a Prick. To drive It on.   

To my Noble, highly valued friend, Pupil, and Alyes Man, Sir Edward Herbert, of Montgomery, Knight of the Bath. Epi. 376.  
Sigh thou thy Name and Nation honourest  
With Worth (like Britain's Crown) past price at least,  
Give me leave (●east worth of thy least Alyes)  
To tell the World thus much, and then it dies:  
For, in this World, where Grace doth live by Sin,  
Can nothing live that is not dead within.   

To my honourable, ingenious, worthy, friend, Sir john Constable, Knight. Ep●. 377.  
DIdst thou but know (dear Knight) how much my heart  
Desires to Stellify thee for thine Art:  
And what e'er else by Worth can be possessed,  
Thou wouldst believe my Heart's thine, at least.  
Then take my Heart, which thus on thee is whorled  
And love it; so, my Heart is worth a World.   

To my much honoured and entirely beloved Sir William Alexander Knight. Ep●. 378.  
THy Pe●, which from some Angel is acquired,  
With heavenly Grace to show thy Wit & skill,  
So far outshines my poor Rooks ruder Quill,  
That, in its beams mine seems a Coal unfir'd;  
But, let them lie till they become entired,  
Then, thine shall mine with equal glory fill;  
Yet so as, known, 'twas so by thine attired,  
That all the Glory thine may merit still:  
Yet, here my lavish Pen runs o'er so much  
With blurring ink▪ be blotting blacker Crimes,  
That (loosely) it, the Times too near doth touch;  
That is; too broadly blots these loser Times:  
But, sooth to say; my Muse became thus loose  
Through vice; at which she hisseth like a goose.   

To my venerable friend Master Doctor Goad. Epi. 379.  
THou art not l●ke, but cum▪ n a real Goad,  
Sharp at one End (thy Head) to drive men on  
(That are oppressed with sad sins heavy Load)  
Where they may rest from being we●be●gon:  
Then, he that will not go, when thou dost prick,  
Is dull, in sense; or else, an Halter-sick.   

To my worthy, and beloved friend Doctor Pierce; Parson of Saint Christopher's, London. Epigram. 380.  
IN this but Froth of Wit to souse your name  
Is but to soil it; so, incur your blame.  
These Purge of my Brain become not you  
In any sort to See; much less● allow.  
You needs must say, my Leisure I abuse  
To make these lests the Stasions of my Muse.  
What will you more (dear Doctor) I confess  
I am all yours, but not my Foolishness.  
Yet, Garce, Art, Wit, and Worth (and all divine)  
May make you (bright Sun) on this Dunghill shine  
Without defiling of your spotless Rays:  
Then, scour my guilt with Birch; but, gild my Ba●●s.   

To my best beloved friend, and aliz-man, Master john Sanford. Epi. 381.  
IOhn, thou art like a Hand that changeth not  
His Name, or Nature; clouched, or dilated:  
So, thou art One, what ever be thy Lot:  
And still, by Fortune, rather checked, than Mated: North  
But, if she had but Eyes to see thy Worth,  
The North should grace thee, as thou dost the North  
With radiant Beams,  
On Learning's Streams.  
In Fortune's Sphere long be his Grace & place,  
That, like the Sun, exhaled thy streams to grace.   

To the all witty, Sir Io: Har:  
SIR, you and I (but Oh I do you wrong,  
To rank with you, for friends, means, wit, or art)  
Are like (they say) in setting of a Song,  
though you sing more in tune, in every Part.  
But, as I can, by Nature, I do hit  
Those Notes you strike, upon a jarring string:  
And it is true▪ we have one fashioned Wit,  
Which may (alike) to us displeasure bring.  
But shall we cease to sing for this? Oh no,  
We can no more do that, than cease to say  
God save the King: and they that would not so,  
Would some strait lines had trust out of the way.  
But on our gamesome Numbers who doth ●orce,  
Their Sense, not Ours, to vex us; ill they wot  
What power are in (our Pates) the wooden Horse,  
To do their Names away with Wits hot-shot.  
But we will L●be●l none; for 'tis unfit,  
The world's not worth a Libel of rich Wit.   

To my ingenious dear friend and Countryman Mr. ●ohn Hoskins, Councillor at Law.  
ONe County first sustained our weight; yet we  
Do li●e no burden to the place, so priest;  
Bu● Luster: else some flatter thee and me,  
Yet, say they what they will▪ our souls know best:  
And for my part, I hope that Thou, and I,  
Ere we'll disgrace it, we with Grace will die.   

To my worthy, ingennus, and ingenius Pupil Mr. Thomas Bond.  
Under my hand I had you once; and now  
Y'ate failen under but my Pen, my Blow;  
Wherewith your Name I culture thus; you be  
A Bond that binds, because you a●e so Free.   

To my witty and worthy friend, Inigo johnes Esquire, surueigher of his Majesties' works.  
WITS mirror, I●●g●, wherein Men see  
Their Figure; which thou dost to them reflect  
By forming, or, to them, conformi●g ●hee:  
For which thou winnest both riches and respect:  
Fortune and Favour with great Art conspired,  
To make thee Model out each Edisce  
Ere it be squared for Court; which thee hath Squird;  
And may do, SIR, for many a rare Device!  
Thy Place I wish not; but thy wake full Wits,  
To make my Place fit me, as thine thee fits:  
Then, lend me, while thou sleepest, thy pure acumen  
To Knight me (old Boy) after many Ne●-men.   

To my learnedly witty friend, Mr Benjamin johnson.  
THy sconce (that guards thy wits as it they guard)  
Is sound, & large, yet no whit can be spared  
For thy Wit's throng: that Plenty makes thee scarce,  
Which makes thee slow, as sure in Prose or Verse,  
As say thy worst detractors; then, if thou  
For all eternity, writ'st Sure and Slow,  
Thy Wits, as they come thronging out of Door,  
Do stick a while, to spread their praise the more.   

To my darling-friend Mr. Richard Dorington.  
DIcke, I am thine: then (thou hast to the end,  
A sore disease, that Physic will not mend:  
Yet, 'tis no falling-sickness, for I'll stand  
As fast to thee, as is thy Heart and Hand:  
And I have reason for it; for thou art  
As dear to me as is my Hand or Heart.  
Then, if I do disease thee, it shall be,  
As Physic doth, of good, to better thee▪  
Sith thou aforehand giu●st me Fee on Fee.   

To my beloved, and most praise worthy friend, Mr. Light of Lytes-cary.  
Sigh Art and Nature did agree,  
To make thee Light of Light;  
Thou art a Type of Christ, sith he  
Is very Light of Light:  
Though lightest (like him) with Wit and grace,  
Whose Fame (like his) fills Time and Place.   

To my beloved, Mr. Robert Branthwaite.  
I Love thee Robin; If I should not, I  
Should give my heart the s●ab, my tongue the lie:  
The Sword of sorrow still should pierce my heart,  
If it should not affect thy dear desert:  
In few, I know no man more worthy love  
For all that may Affection Stay, or Move.   

To my worthy approved dear friend Mr. jackson, Manciple of All Souls College in Oxford.  
IF we must speak as we have found; why then,  
thoust been to me and mine, the best of Men:  
For, of all those that ever yet I proved,  
Thou best deservest of me to be beloved.  
Thine Outsides plain, but yet within thy Breast,  
A Heart (I find) as brave and free doth rest  
As that great Caesars, who would ever moan  
The paffed day, wherein he pleasured none.  
Thou art a Townseman, yet the Country mend'st,  
& glad'st it with what there thou gettest & spendest  
For, two Months, in a time of pestilence,  
There, freely cheered, I saw thy great expense.  
While thou in Oxford (plagued) waste then exposed  
To death: thy family and mine disposed  
In safety there, where we, beside, were fed;  
While thou for us didst live among the dead.  
Iackson's thy name; then thou art mine (alack  
Thart hapless so) for so●e do ca●l me jack.  
But, like a Father, thou to jack hast been;  
That is, in kindness, far beyond his Kin.  
Then, Jack's thy son, to love and honour thee;  
And so, for fostering both, must Jack's 
* Siluanu●  Son be.  
Thus, enough jack can not give thee reason for't,  
he'll give thee Rhyme, Renown & good report.  
And if that be too thine for thy desert.  
Were't thou not all heart, thou shouldst have his Heart,  
Yet, for thine may be sick, when his is sound,  
He gives it thee, sith so to thee it's bound.   

To my worthy approved friend Mistress Cicely tile.  
THy Virtues do entice me, Tyse, to set  
Thy name (for Love and Fame's sake) in my Rhymes  
Lest Time should either Them or Thee forget,  
Whose Wisdom, Womanhood, & parts (like crimes)  
Do stain most Wives, as Phoebus doth the Fire;  
Then, live thou in my R●me, till Time expire.   

Of myself, and my Book.  
I Must confess my Muse is in the wrong,  
Though rightly she doth scourge what is amiss:  
But being pregnant, She to lash doth long,  
Though her complexion quite be marred by this▪  
For most will say, She like a Devil looks:  
Yet, let none judge, but such as can write Books.   

Against Yellow, starched bands. For a Farewell.  
THese Ruffs, sick of the Ia●●●ize (black, or Yellow)  
Do show their Wearers are or Deep or Shallow  
In Poverty, or Wit: Then, would they were  
All black with Cuffs that Yellow Ruffs do wear:  
And he whose Wife doth wear them, I suppose  
With Cause still fears he wears the Yellow-hose.   

To my dear Mother; the City of Hereford.  
THou gav'st me breath; and I will give thee fame  
By writing, in a double Kind: thy Name  
I Borrowed once to add to mine: and yet  
I hold it to it still; for which the debt  
Is clearest fame I'll pay thee, at long running;  
Else shall my hand and head forget their cunning.   
FINIS.   

EPITAPHS.  

On him that was said to be pulled in pieces in playing the Bear. Epitaph. 1.  
HEre lies a Man; nay, who there▪  
Here lies a Man that died a Bear.   

On an Hermaphrodite. Epi. 2  
HEre lies a Man and Woman too;  
And yet wants One to make them Two.   

On one Gwillim a common crier of a Town. Epitaph. 3.  
HEre lies the Common Crier Gwillim;  
So, cried for life, till Death die still him.   

On an Harlot called Megmutton of Heref: Epitaph. 4.  
HEre lies Megmutton (who could live no longer  
To make Death a Glutton, and true Muttonmonger.   

Upon a noted common-lyer, jack-ap jack. Epitaph. 5.  
HEre lies jack-ap jack; and wot ye why?  
A live he still lied; an●, dead, still must lie.  
Who, in his life, lied willingly still:  
But here, in death, lies against his will.   

On the Woman that was burnt in Smithfield for killing her Master, in her anger. Epitaph. 6.  
HEre good people, in the Dust,  
Truly Lieth Choller-adust:  
Which killed, through heat; so, burned, with Dolour▪  
Then, here lies truly, Burned choler.   

Upon one borne blind. Epitaph. 7.  
HEre lies a man that ne'er sa● woe  
Being borne blind, to feel it so.   

Upon john of all johns.  
IOhn of all johns here lies: what than?  
Were all johns honoured in this Man?  
Yes, that they were: and, wot ye why?  
Cannot you tell? in troth nor I.   

On one Wood a miser, burnt by a Quean. Epi. 9  
REader, read; and, think thereon,  
H●re lies Wood beneath this Stone:  
Who was harder than the higher,  
Yet was burnt without a fire.   

On one who built himself bankrupt, to keep the poor on work. Epi▪ 10.  
REader smile, or else look off,  
For, here lies the People's Scoff:  
Who, that Beggars well might do,  
Built himself a Beggar too.   

On one that yielded hi● Weapons in pri●at fight; the conceit whereof after broke his heart. Epi. 11.  
THis Stone conceals a Man almost,  
Who, by his Manhood, Manhood lost.   

On one that a Quean made to Father her Bastard, begotten by his man.. Epi. 12.  
HEr● l●●s a Man was got with Child  
By a Maid that him defiled:  
Who made him, when she was a Mother,  
Father her Child got by another.   

Upon one Church-evill a deboshed base Whore-hunter, who died of the Pox. Epi. 13.  
HEre lies a Church, triumphant still in evil;  
That never fought with sin the world nor Devil  
But still with Flesh he changed friendly knocks;  
And so, to shun the Plague, died of the Pox.   

On a common Drunkard. Epi. 14.  
HEre lies a Man that never saw Man;  
For he never looked but in a Can.   

On an English stutting-Booke-seller who learned French, to sell Books to Frenchmen. Epi. 15.  
HEre lies Sam: although a Stutter,  
Yet many a word, in Print, did utter:  
Yet had no tongue at all to spare,  
But one he bought to s●ll his Ware.   

On Tarlton. Epi. 16.  
HEre within this sullen Earth  
Lies Dick-Tarlton, Lord of mirth;  
Who in his Grave still, laughing, gapes  
Sith all Clowns since have be●ne his Apes:  
Erst he of Clowns to learn still sought;  
But now they learn of him they taught  
By Art far past the Principal;  
The Counterfeit is, so, worth all,   

On a rare Dyer of Silk. Epi. 17.  
HEre lies one, who lived by dying,  
Yet died truly till this lying.   

On a self conceited Foole. Epi. 18.  
HEre lies a Man that was an Ass  
Then Is he better than he was.   

On one who cheated his Father. Epi. 19  
HEre lies a Man, who in a span  
Of life, beyond his Father ran.   

Epi. 20.  
HEre john of Paul's but hids his head:  
For, none can say good john is dead.   

On john Astile. Epi. 318.  
IF ye be men, then stay a while,  
And know here lieth john A Style,  
If ye know him not; why then,  
It's ten to one y'are honest men.   

On Raviliack who murdered Henry the fourth French-King. 22.  
Here lies Raviliack (the whole heavens under)  
above the Earth, Heaven, Earth, & Hell's just wonder,  
Though all these 3. most justly wonder at him,  
The thing procures more wonder that begat him:  
For, though that thing, in Ill, past all comparing,  
Yet nought could ought beget so dammed & daring.   

On George a Green, Pinder of Wakefield. 23.  
Here doth lie good George-a-Greene  
Nor tasted, smelled, felt, heard, or seen:  
But yet when George at Wakefield dwelled:  
Many did smell, while him they felt.   

On little john.  
Here lies little john, not little some ween:  
Yet now he's so little he cannot be seen.   

O● Billy Grime.  
HEre lies Billy grime  
Who never was storer;  
But first and last slime,  
And, ever a Rore●.  
For, though dead be Will,  
His Name roareth still.   

On a Roaring Boy called Thing.  
FIe upon'nt▪ it mads me near  
A stabbing Thing should still lie here;  
Yet, if now still lie he should not,  
He must hang; ●or, stand he could not.   

Of one Baudyman, whose name and nature were one. 27.  
IF I should tell you, here doth lie  
A Man; perhaps you'll say I lie:  
But, though a Beast ye prove him can▪  
Yet was (at least) a Baudyman.   

Of one R. Hand that died of the Pox. 28.  
NOw by this Hand I wrong him not,  
here lies a Hand that, dead, doth rot:  
And was to rotten ere he died,  
That now he is less putrefied.   

Upon a Youngster, who lay with a Maid, at the Labour in vain. 29.  
WOuld you think it? I think you would not:  
here lies a youth that would but could not.   

On a man borne dumb. 30.  
Believe it here one dead doth lie,  
Who in his life, could never lie:  
For he was dumb; then lie could near,  
But in his death, he still lies here.   

Upon one Eleazar Death a good fellow Taylor. 31.  
IF Death a Tailor be, why then  
He must prick Lice, not Maids nor Men.   

Death's Epitaph. 32.  
Here Death's interred, that lived by B●ead:  
Then, all should live, now Death is dead.   

On one Forgot a Pitman. 34.  
Here lies, but what! that know I not:  
Then (Reader) know, it is Forgot:  
And yet if it thou dost not know,  
Read but That and it will show.   

On a short spare man, that wore always an huge pair of Cloak-bag hose. ●5.  
THat earth might dissolve the st●tches,  
here lies (rak't) a pair of Breeches:  
Nought could wear them sith they had  
Nought to wear them but a Shade.   

On john an Oakes. Epitaph. 36.  
HAlla▪ my Mates, here make a stand,  
And read who lies here; understand  
It's john a Nokes the lawyers fool;  
Yet puts them still, for Law, to school.   

One Ro: Goose a lightheaded wanton. Epitaph. 37.  
HEre lies a Sot, that lived too loose;  
Read soft, then, lest ye wake the Goose.   

On a Sot that was held honest though such cannot be so. Epitaph. 38.  
WOuld ye think it? I think not;  
Here doth lie an honest Sot.  
Then, let him lie still in his Grave,  
Left this World make the Fool a Knave.   

On o●e N. Po●, a dunkard who was stabbed in an Alehouse. Epitaph. 39  
REader, though its stinking stale,  
Here lies spilled a Pot of Ale:  
So, he hath small reckoning got,  
Though he were the reckoning Pot.   

On an idle prattler, nicknamed Words. Epitaph. 40.  
ALas that ever he was borne,  
Here lies a Man to Nothing worm;  
Yet is more than he was (I trust)  
He was but Words; but, now is Dust.   

On one H. Quarrel. Epit. 41.  
IF ye come, come on your peril,  
For here lies a moral Quarrel:  
It is mortal, yet ye may  
Find it dead without a Fray.   

One one B. Holiday. Epit. 42.  
AH! out, alas, and well-away,  
Here lies s●ill, an Holiday▪  
Had it been working; then, ye know,  
It could not lie still, to be so.  
Yet, when Holiday shall rise,  
he'll fall, then, to some exercise.   

Being desired to make an Epitaph on an ill-beloved rich miserable youngman whose name was Bright; and whose mothers name by her father, was Spark; he writ. Epitaph. 45.  
NOw, by this light,  
Here, in the Dark,  
Doth light one Bright,  
That was a Spark.   

Four sad Epitaphs. A Epitaph on the death of the most famous Bishop; both for good learning, and good living, Doctor Tomson Bishop of Gloucester, Epitaph. 46.  
THis Tomb enwombes a Child of God, whose grace,  
Wit, Art and Nature still, were so exact,  
As makes his praisefil Time, and orefill Place;  
Yet, in this Place his Corpse lies close compact!  
Then, such a sun this Tomb doth now enwombe  
As no such Tom-sonne, Tomb did ere entomb!   

On Master W. Woodcock, a virtuous discreet and rare Scholar. Epitaph. 47.  
HEre lies a Woodcock honest, learned, and wise,  
Safe from the s●ares of all his enemies:  
No Woodcock, then, in Nature, but in Name:  
For which not He, but Fortune was too blame.   

The Author's Epitaph. 48.  
LOng after All was made, I, made, was marred  
●y Error of my Parents ere I erred:  
For, to the World I came through their offence,  
Which made me sinful, in mine Innocence.  
I loved the Muses; and sought by them  
Long life in this life's shadow of a Dream;  
But, I am gone; and, my remains (I guess)  
Are but the Labours of my Idleness  
Which, living, die: so all thereby I got  
Is Fame (perhaps) which (past perhaps) Is not;  
At least Is not to me; sith dead I am:  
And, have no sense of Air, Fames surer Name.  
I loved Faire-wr●●ing; and, could Write as fair  
As any that for That had got that Air.  
I taught it others; but my greatest ●ee  
Was fairest-fame the fouler shame for me  
In men's account; who hold all Gettings vain  
That tend to Grace and Glory more than Gain.  
My Heart was Manly, in a double-sence,  
Kind to my Friends and apt to give offence  
To my Offenders: so, Heart, Hand, and Head  
Had precious Gifts, that did me little stead.  
I found the World as Abel found it; sith  
It harmed me most that meddled lest therewith.  
I found my Flesh my Household F●●; while I  
The Devil found my foreign enemy:  
So, Inwardly and Outwardly I found  
My life still militant; till in this Ground  
I lay entrenched: where safe I lie from fight,  
Equal to Caesar in our present plight:  
If odds there be; herein it now doth rest,  
I, being a Christian-man, must needs be best:  
My soul is in his hand, that made me so;  
His Glories Subject still, in Weal, or W●e.   

On a vert●●ous faire-maide Mistress Eliza: Amber. Epitaph. 49.  
REader stay; see who lies here▪  
Attacting Amber, shining clear:  
Yet Death that clearness cloudeth, now;  
But, being bright, it shineth through.   

Again.  
Reader, stay; and yet, be wise;  
For, here still-drawing Amber lies:  
But yet, if now she draw thee to her,  
Thou must die, or qui●e undo her.   

On a Bank●rupt called Mite. Epitaph. 51.  
REader, read ●ight,  
And thou shalt see,  
Here lies a Mite  
Not worth a Cec.   

On a wicked fellow called P. Godsoll. Epita. 51.  
LOrd! that men should read, or say,  
Here lies God-sole turned to Clay:  
Yet, sith she was no soul of God,  
He turned too well, when he turned Clod.   

Of one Worth that died Lousy, having had a good living; but spent it lewdly. Epit. 52.  
HEre lies Worth  
Of little price;  
And, so forth;  
The rest is Lice.   

On one Elizabeth Butter a fair maid. Epitaph. 53.  
HEre lies sweet Butter turned to Grass,  
To make sweet Butter as it was.   

On one I. Cheese, an old Lecher. Epitaph. 53.  
HEre lies old Cheese, who doth not know it,  
Ask but the Grubs, and they will show it.   

On one P. Cock, a rich fool, who gave much money by will, to make him a fair Tomb. Epit. 56.  
HEre lies a Cock, he missed the Comb  
Hardly, to have with Wise men Room:  
But now he is dead, it doth appear,  
He's proud of his own dunghill here.   

On a common Drunkard called man.. Epitaph. 56.  
CAn ye think it? if ye can,  
Then here lies a Beastlike man..   

On one called jaques. Epitaph. 57  
FIe out up on't, spew, spit, and cough;  
A I●kes here lieth: Marry, fough!   

On one Wit, whose mother died with his birth; a contentious fellow. Epitaph. 58.  
COme a long, and Nothing by:  
For, Wit bought dearly, here doth lie:  
That's good for nothing; then be glad,  
That good for nought, may here be had.   

On the Cripple, who stole the weathercock of Paul's. Epitaph. 59  
HEre lies the Cripple,  
That stole Paules-weather-cocke,  
From that high Steeple  
By night, at Twelve a Clock:  
If now he could fly here  
(As then) past his fellows,  
Yet he would lie here,  
He would climb to the Gallows.   

On one called Holiday a great gamester killed playing at Primero. Epitaph. 60.  
HEre lies gaming Holiday,  
Who won his greatest R●st by play:  
For, at Primero, in his Breast,  
He got a Stab, that won this Rest.   

Upon one Denis who slu● one in a Tennis-court about the difference of a Chase. Epitaph. 61.  
HEre lies one Denis  
That played well at Tennis;  
But as the Line he crossed,  
It him so entangled,  
That him it strangled:  
So, his Time Set, he lost.   

On one Gold, a great Dicer. Epit. 62.  
HEre lies Gold, that past at Dice;  
Yet be it told, to know the price:  
And for it went so light away,  
It shallbe spent, here, Night and Day.   

O● Nobody, as he is fancied & set forth in picture. Epitaph. 63.  
BOdy of me here lies Nobody.  
That is▪ Nothing, like a Noddy:  
Then, the shortest Epitaph  
F●ts him best that no place hath.   

On a double fellow, ill composed. Epit. 64.  
HEre lies one double in his Grave:  
For, he was still a Fool, and Knave.   

On a scurvy fellow, enriched by a Queen. Epit. 65.  
HEre lies a Scab  
Made by a Drab.   

On a Usurer. Egitaph.  
HEre still lieth Ten pur Cent:  
In Death's house, and pays no rent:  
Then its like he lends to Death,  
On this freehold, his dearest Breath▪   

On one Norman, an ill man. 66.  
WIthin this Grave, here lies, alone,  
Nor-man, nor Beast; but both in one.   

On one Master Linder, that was burnt by a Drab: and thereof died. 67.  
HEre lies lusty Linder:  
But it is clear,  
Had he not lined her,  
He had not lain here.   

On a most intolerable cursed Wife. 68  
IF it be true, as I hear tell,  
Some affirm the Grave is Hell:  
And if Hell be, then, so near,  
The veriest Devil of Hell lies here.   

On one that loved Sack as his Soul. 69.  
REader, bless thee, if afeared,  
The Spirit of Sack lies here interred.   

On one Love a Gold-finder alias a jakes-farmer. 77.  
IF ye can smell,  
Then draw ye near:  
And you'll soon tell  
Who lieth here.   

On a tall Coward. 78.  
FAith sir no; it is not so:  
Then who lies here you cannot know;  
Yet was a Man exceeding tall,  
And yet he was no man at all!   

By one Shockman hanged in chains on a Hill. 79.  
Here st●ll sleeps Shockman,  
On this heavy Hill:  
Yet ●●en Death doth rock-man,  
He wags, sleeping still.   

On a, Bankrupt that lived (till he died) long in Ludgate, oft begging in the Hole. 80.  
NOne can tell who lieth here  
Sith he never did appear:  
For; he lived and died in Ward;  
So, near was seen but often heard.    


To my Worthily much honoured M. Richard Martin, learned in the Laws, Arts, and Language's.  
MArten, the Bird, the Beast, the Man in grace;  
Have all three, three peculiar dearest things:  
The Bird for taking time of Time and Place:  
The Beast for his rich Case▪ the Case of Kings;  
And thou, the Man, for thy high Wit and Worth,  
So, Man, Beast, Bird, A Marten thus sets forth.   

To my Noble and ever best beloved Pupil, Captain Henry Maynwarring.  
THough last I place thee (noble Pupil) I  
Have reason for't. Wil't know the Mystery?  
Thou shalt, next heaven, be last in mind with me  
At last, when I to Heaven shall Usher Thee.  
What said I? Heaven do Captains climb so high?  
Yes, thou shalt do't, sith thou so oft didst buy  
Freedom for Christians; (Slaves to Turks;) and so  
Thou ●bd'st thy means with grace: if sin did slow.   

The conclusion.  

NOw Holla, here, my merry Muse,  
No longer Time and Rhyme abuse;  
And sith to both, thou hast done scathe,  
This shallbe thine Epitaph.   

HEre lies a Muse (was made by Nine)  
That drunken was with Wit, not Wine:  
And yet the Bowels of her Wit  
Being too full of Trash unfit.  
Here, like a Fart, doth let it fly,  
More for hi● ease, than honesty.    
FINIS.   

On Banning.  
BE● as be may; no Banning is: Oh no;  
Banning's a blessing: and I'll take it so.   

An excuse for Faults escaped in Printing by reason my Occasions would not permit me to look to the Press.  
WHen Printing first was borne (it seems) it had  
This curse with it; That it should bear no Book  
But it, with Faults, should make the Father sad,  
Then Reader to the Faults vouchsafe to look:  
And mend, or make them worse; all's one to me,  
They be not mine; but theirs that, now, o'er see.