SIR MARTIN Mar-People, his collar of Esses.  
Workmanly wrought by Master Simon Soothsaier, Coldsmith of London.  
And offered to sale upon great necessity, by john Davies.  
Imprinted at London, by Richard Ihones. 1590.   

Sir Martin Mar-People his collar of Esses.  
WHat can be said? when so much said  
can nought prevail with men?  
What signs, what threats, what words, what works,  
from sage Experience pen,  
Are extant in these dismal days, to alter man's amiss?  
But yet (ah woe to us therefore) no Reformation is  
Of sinful life: the less our praise, the greater our perdition.  
The more our woe, the less our weal, the nearer our destruction:  
For Time brings aught to nought we see, & nought in time's amended:  
Our God, our prince (our cause of peace) from time to time's offended.  
Our Peace (I say) procures our Pride, our Pride our Lust inflameth,  
Our peace, our pride and lawless lust, our graceless lives defameth:  
Our Plenty springing from our Peace, is spent in sports uncleanly,  
Such sports unclean in Christians are most odious and unseemly.  
Now Vice doth vaunt, that virtues brightness she hath quite obscured,  
The brightest beauty Virtue had, now Vice hath clean devoured,  
O wicked age, O doting dates, wherein such ills are found,  
Wherein such cares, wherein such woes, wherein such vice abound:  
O graceless world, how far thou art, from that of yore thou wast,  
When kingly Saturn reigned, but now, that golden world is past:  
Thy beauty's blemished with reproach, from whence thy shame proceed,  
From good to ill, from ill to worse, now art thou fallen indeed.  
What shroud may serve to hide thy shame, what volumes can contain  
The brief'st description of thy faults, which doth thy favour stain:  
The wisest wits are found too weak, the cunningest Clerks want skill.  
Particularly t'express the sins, in thee abounding stil.  
Such irreligious minds in men, such hollow hearts in many:  
Such janus-faced fawning friends, small trust is found in any:  
Such deep deceit in countenance couched, such treason hid in trust,  
Such filthy fraud in friendly speech, such dealings most unjust:  
Such murderous mischiefs, rigorous rapes in savage wise performed  
Such little care of conscience now, such perjuries suborned:  
Such brothel, bawdry, bugrie, and inhuman shape to be,  
Such monstrous brutish beastliness, a wonder 'tis to see,  
Such huge oppression of the poor, where pity should abound,  
Such discord in opinions now, the simple soul to wound,  
Such restless jarring all for jests, and things of no account,  
Such seeking for pre-eminence, by others fall to mount:  
Such posting after peevish praise, that soon will fade and perish,  
Such small regard of Orphans poor, which God commands to cherish,  
Such prowling still for private gain, such hunting after wealth,  
Such little heed of soul's disease, such care of body's health.  
Such raging madness in the minds of frantic fools a number,  
Such brainsick brawling 'mongst the bad, which do the good encumber  
Such partial judgements in the judge, for whom the judge do favour,  
Such justice, judge, and judgements too, doth of injustice savour.  
Such wring of the laws awry, for Lady Lucars love,  
Such huge exactions from the poor, which to their pain they prove.  
Such ravenous robbing by the way, such picking in the City,  
Such desperate moods in graceless men, bereft of christian pity:  
Such laughing at each others loss, such grief at others gain,  
Such persecuting silly souls, such pleasure in their pain.  
Such emulation 'mongst the rich, such strife amongst the poor,  
Such small relief to such as hunger drives from door to door.  
Such discontents in all estates, such cl●ming for promotion,  
Such great hypocrisy in zeal, to God such small devotion.  
Such swearing by the precious parts of him, whose painful passion  
Such pardon purthaced as preserves, the faithful from damnation.  
Such preaching never in any age was used, as now it is,  
Such teaching former times did lack, and yet is all amiss.  
Such arguing of the force of faith, whilst works are left undone,  
Such blessed words, such cursed works, cannot accord in one,  
Such superfinenesse in each sex, the outward part t'adorn,  
Such robes as should the soul array, to rotten rags are worn.  
Such beastly minds in bodies brave, such craft in clownish grey,  
Such clownish crafts full hardly spied, till trial it bewray.  
Such fawning mates that flattery use, such hath the world in price,  
Such are embraced, whose witching words, can itching ears entice.  
Such treasons practised 'gainst the Prince, by subjects most unkind,  
Such herds of bloody Homicides, that are to blood inclined:  
Such havoc made, since wilful Will hath uncontrolled reigned,  
Such heaps of harms increasing still, since Will hath will maintained.  
Such matchless Machiavellian mates, with such the world doth swarm,  
Such skill they have to smile when they intent the greatest harm.  
Such protestations in pretence of friendly favours ever,  
Such solemn vows of friendship's deeds, yet are performed never,  
Such Saints in show, such devils in deed, near lived on earth I ween:  
Such clusters of Chameleons, I think was never seen:  
Such feeds upon the simple sort, for such they lie in wait,  
Such sucks the marrow of their bones, in whom is no deceit.  
Such, yea, such still lurking lies, t'entrap the honest mind,  
Such sees with Argus hundred eyes,, and yet they seem most blind▪  
Such witty wiles we have to wrap our souls in Satan's web,  
Such great ungraciousness doth flow, and goodness still doth ebb.  
Such outward paintings to amend the works of God and Nature:  
Such sinful sleights devised there are, to grace the form and stature.  
Such trash (I say) offends our God, such toys he nill endure,  
Such pride his plagues and vengeance just, against us doth procure:  
Such foul immodest filth of ours, his heavenly eyes offends,  
Such paintings are the lines of lust, that unto lewdness tends:  
Such filthy fairness spots the soul with foul abominations,  
Such fair ones that such filth do use, have cause to fear damnation.  
Such care to keep such faults unspied, from world's uncertain sight,  
Such pro●nnesse to offend our God, whose judgements still are right.  
Such boldness in our civil broils, such dread in truths defence,  
Such cowardice in Conscience cause, such fear of man's offence.  
Such coldness in the service which to God is only due,  
Such hot desire of change therein, though worser do ensue:  
Such great contempt of Magistrates, whose power we reverence should,  
Such rash rebellions in our realms, such mischiefs manifold,  
Such glory in-terrestiall trash, such trash our glory is,  
Such glory's vain, vainglory such, will bar our souls from bliss,  
Such carking still for cankered coin, such little care of honesty,  
Such sucking blood, such cutting throats, such practising of villainy▪  
Such bragging of our beastliness, such boasting of our sin,  
Such glutting of our greedy guts, such mire we wallow in.  
Such thirsting after fell Revenge, for every trifling wrong,  
Such frailty cannot scape unscourged, though God it suffer long.  
Such cloaking of our faults with fees, such blinding of Authorty,  
Such gifts bestowed where need is none, such little love and charity▪  
Such liberal feasting of the Fat, and famishing the Lean,  
Such lifting up the Fowl aloft, and pulling down the Clean.  
Such carping at the time of such, as Time hath Traitors made,  
Such putting on the golden sheath upon the leaden blade.  
Such careful furthering of the rich, such crossing of the poor,  
Such wresting from the widow, and such pulling from her store.  
Such wicked matches daily made, from whence much mischief spring,  
Such running headlong to the Devil for every trifling thing.  
Such winking at the faults of some, such plaguing others guilt,  
Such riotous spending, and such spoils, such wealth by wantoness spilled:  
Such hunting of the whorish crew, such haunting of their houses,  
Such great disorder every where, such heaps of huge abuses.  
Such raising rents, such doubling fines, such slender hospitality,  
Such costly fare, yet nothing spare, for men in great calamity.  
Such lending out for lawless loan, such great oppression used,  
Such statute-Merchants now required, nay, such are oft refused▪  
Such cracking credits, which of yore was carefully kept unuiolate,  
Such recklessness in that respect with men of great estate,  
Such wailing of poor wights oppressed, such cries of men in misery▪  
Such small regard of their distress that pine in extreme poverty.  
Such loathing of the low estate, such hating of the high,  
Such puffing pride in mounting minds, such pleasing of the eye:  
Such ranckour rusting in the mind, such minds of vile condition,  
Such frowardness in every man, such hateful disposition.  
Such great extortion in each town, such polling in each city,  
Such deep dissembling in the Court, such cogging in the country.  
Such spite and gal●● bitterness extended to our brother,  
Such burning hearts within our breasts, such envying one another:  
Such quelling of the quiet man, such questions daily rising,  
Such factions, and such busy brains, contentions still devising.  
Such standring of the innocent, such vexing of the virtuous,  
Such wronging of the well-disposed, such favouring the vicious:  
Such disagreement in the words and deeds of every man,  
Such cursed contrariety, the Lord of hosts doth ban:  
Such wicked Wolves, like Lambs attired, of such the world is full,  
Such from the bones of silly sheep, the flesh and fleece do pull:  
Such crafty Crocodiles that weeps, till they their pray have caught,  
with such the earth's replenished now, with such the world is fraught.  
Such bawdy books abounding now for sinful delectation,  
Such printed are under pretence of honest recreation.  
Such wicked works will work their woe, that in such works delight,  
Such pleasant poisons slays the souls, and suffocates the spirit.  
Such volumes vile such venom have, as soon corrupts the readers,  
Such readers commonly are such, as unto vice are leaders.  
Such idle drones are such I say, that lives by others toil,  
Such puffs their paunch by others pains, such spends by others spoil.  
Such caitiffs in the common wealth, like Cankers seem to be,  
Such Cankers breed in it such cares, as ruth it is to see.  
Such hanging up, and yet such store of such do still abound.  
Such executions every where, yet still such fiends are found:  
Such Burglaries performed with blood, like butchers merciless,  
Such vild Herodian cruelty, no tongue can well express.  
Such cutthroat carving all for coin, to cloth and cram the carcase,  
Such pinching for to spare our pence, t'enlarge our lands by purchase:  
Such scouring of the surging seas for things of no avail,  
Such desperate dangers undertaken, for fancies which do fail:  
Such doting on our dainty Dames, such pains to show them pleasure,  
Such moan we make, if once they mourn, if glad? Glad out of measure.  
Such feeding of their humours vain, such fight for their favour,  
Such large expenses for their love, such dread of their disfavour.  
Such is the care, the cursed care of such as Christians seem,  
Such seeming Christians with such cares, their Christ do not esteem.  
Such brazen faced boldness now's in beauties dainty die,  
Such wanton looks enticing lust, from her lascivious eye.  
Such tricks, such toys, such sports, such joys the God of heaven offends,  
Such vild licentious lusts of ours, our souls to Satan sends.  
Such delicacy, such delights, such devilish daintiness,  
Such filthy foul enormities were hatched in hell (I guess)  
Such several sins of sundry sort, such sorts of sinners vile,  
The sea, the earth, the fire and air, they all with sin defile.  
Too weak I find my memory to mention every sin,  
The numbers are so infinite which now we wallow in.  
But Zeuxes drew a vail on that, he wanted skill t'express,  
So I for want of skill herein, am forced to do no less;  
And leave untouched such cursed crimes, as Christians blot with blame,  
For which they do right well deserve the shrouding sheet of shame.  
Then let's consider the estate of wretched mortal life,  
What cares & crosses, plagues & pains, what woes & storms of strife  
Attends thereon: that well's the man which soonest is from hence,  
For while we live, we living die in sin and foul offence:  
Our days (as holy David saith) in length are but a span,  
Our time is like a blast of wind, soon come, and quickly gone.  
The great revenues we possess, our wealth, our friends and all,  
We must forsake (though near so loath) when pleaseth God to call,  
Yet such is the condition of this vale of vain delights,  
It so bewitcheth all our thoughts, and ravisheth our sprights.  
Whilst here we are, that little thought we have of heaven or hell,  
But feed our veins, like Epicures, whilst we on earth do dwell.  
This world is such a Siren sweet, enchanting with her voice,  
Her lays and warbling Lullabies, our sleeping souls rejoice,  
Her pleasures rocks us fast on sleep, in cradle of security,  
Whilst Satan lurks in shape unseen, to take his opportunity.  
O wayward, wicked, wanton world, O gaping gulf of grief,  
O sink of sin, O sea of shame, of miseries the chief.  
O cursed Chaos, so confused with heaps of hateful sin,  
O Labyrinth most intricate, for turnings out and in.  
Thy painted shows are shadows vain, which vanish with the Sun,  
Thy greatest glory shall decay, when mortal life is done.  
Who trusts a broken staff, we see, do fall ere they be ware,  
Who sows his seed in mischiefs mould, shall reap the crop of care.  
What mean we then so much to make, of such uncertain trash,  
Which at unwares, when least we ween, will leave us in the lash?  
All these and thousands more such ills, which in this world we find,  
Are motives which should move us all, an other world to mind.  
That world where the triumphant Church from such extremes is free,  
Where God in matchless glory reigns, there should we long to be.  
Where holy ones with heavenly hymns, do laud his blessed name,  
Where Halleluiahes sweet are sung, in honour of the same:  
Where that which Paul could not express, the same do there abound,  
Where sweet of sweets, where bliss of bliss, where joy of joys are found.  
Yea, there, ah there, if once we were, than should we happy be,  
Till there we find this happiness, unhappy still are we.  
Then let us leave this wretched world, and cleave unto the Lord,  
And turn from all our wicked ways, in thought, in deed and word:  
That God from us may turn his plagues, which we deserved have,  
That whilst we live, we so do live, that he our souls may save.  
That when our lives give place to death, than death may swallowed be  
Of life again, in heaven to dwell with God in persons three:  
In endless glory there to rest, and that it so befall,  
My heart, my mind, my tongue and lips do pray: Amen say all.  
FINIS