The Loves of HERO AND LEANDER: A mock Poem: WITH marginal Notes, and other choice Pieces OF DROLLERY. Got by heart, and often repeated by divers witty Gentlemen, and Ladies, that use to walk in the New Exchange, and at their recreations in Hyde-park.  
Ut Nectar Ingenium.  
Printed at London, 1653.   

The famous Greek and Asian story, 
This was the author's Prologue.   
Of honoured Male and Female glory.  
Know all, I value this rich Gem,  
With any piece of C. J. M.  
Nay more than so, I'll go no less,  
Than any script of friends, J. S.  
Of young Leander, and of Hero, 
 I now begin; Dum spiro, spero.  

LEANDER being fresh and gay,  
As is the leek or green popey; 
His hair was not powdered.   
Upon a morn both clear and bright,  
When Phoebus rose, and had bedight  
Himself with all his Golden rays;  
And pretty birds did perch on sprays:  
When Marigolds did spread their leaves,  
And men begin to button sleeves:)  
Then young Leander all forlorn,  
As from the oak drops the acorn;  
So from his weary bed he slipped,  
Or like a schoolboy newly whipped;  
But with a look as blithe to see,  
As cherry ripe on top of tree:  
So, forth he goes and makes no stand,  
With Crabtree cudgel in his hand.  
He had not gone a mile or two,  
But gravel got into his shoe,  
He set him down upon a bank, 
Note here every thing is the worse for wearing.   
To dry his foot, and rest his shank,  
And so with finger put in shoe,  
He pulled out dirt and gravel too.  
This was about the wast of day:  
The middle, 
All men cannot be scholars.  as the vulgar say.  
Fair Hero, walking with her Maid,  
To do the thing cannot be stayed,  
Spied young Leander lying so,  
With pretty finger picking toe.  
She thought it strange to see a man  
In privy walk, and then anon,  
She stepped behind a Pop'ring tree,  
And listened for some Novelty:  
Leander having cleared his throat,  
Began to sing this pleasant note.   

Oh, would I had my Love in bed,  
Though she were ne'er so fell;  
I'd fright her with my adder's head,  
until I made her swell.  
Oh Hero, Hero, pity me,  
With a Dildo, Dildo, Dildo dee.   

Fair Hero 'gan to smile at this,  
Leander raised 'gainst tree to piss,  

* As any man in love may do.  He plucks me straight his Drabler out,  
And with his arms clasped tree about:  
O thus, quoth he, O thus,— I cooed,  
Bobbing Rogero 'gainst the wood.  
His Blind-worm Hero fair did see,  

† It may be called coral, in respect of rubbing of Gums.  His coral head did lean 'gainst tree:  
Which sight did make her sigh and sob,  
To see how he 'gainst tree did bob:  
She never loved him till that hour,  
And him she will invite to tower.  
She sat her down to ease her joints,  
The springal he unties his points.  
Fair Hero noted him a while,  
And prettily began to smile,  
To see a comely youth and tall,  
Could not hold that which needs must fall.  
Now hero fair had spied a vapour,  
And sends her maid with piece of paper;  
But he before the Maid did come,  

* As it may be Reader thyself hast done.  Had saved that labour with his thumb:  
The Maid with blush turned back again,  
Seeing her labour was in vain.  
Leander having done his task,  
And made an end o'er hedge nine Laske,  
He turned about, and made no bones,  

† Observe in this the childishness of a Lover.  But with stick raked for Cherry stones.  
So as he stooped, he spied coming,  
A gentle Nymph, whose pace was running.  
He could not tell what to suppose,  

* Meaning into his Breeches.  But put up Shirt into his Hose.  
Leander straight did follow Maid,  
Until he came where hero laid.  
Her cheek on hand, her arm on stump,  
Her leg on grass, on molehill rump;  
He with a gentle modest gate,  
Plucking his Cap from off his Pate,  
He thus bespoke her, Lovely Peat,  
Behold, with running how I sweat!  
Oh, would I were that harmless stump,  
Whereon thou leanest, with that a thump  
Broke from the entrails of his hose,  
hero was fearful, dreading foes,  
Seeing a Canon 'gainst her bent,  
That seemed to level at his tent:  
Leander having felt the 'scape,  
And spied the Maid to laugh and gape:  
He then began to smell a Rat,  
And stole his hand down under's Hat.  
hero did note his Roger good,  
And how courageously it stood:  
At length she asked him his name,  
And wherefore that he thither came.  
Quoth he, my dwelling is Abydos,  

† True lover: walk on fish-days.  This is my walk Wednesdays and Fridays.  
I love to see the Squirrels play,  
With bow and bolt I them do fray.  
My name is young Leander called,  
My Father's rich, and yet he's bald:  
Enough quoth Hero, say no more,  
Mum-budg, quoth he, 'twas known of yore.  
Now Heroes love began to curdle,  
She wished his head under her girdle.  
If so she had, I make no doubt,  
But it would dash its own brains out;  
And yet the Stale be ne'er the worse.  
I may compare the head to purse  
Whose mouth is fastened to a string,  
And if the knot she chance to wring,  
The money white will issue out:  

† As one would say, Wide. quoth Wallis, when his— was in the bedstraw.  He shoots most wide that hits the clout.  
Now Heroes love could not be hid.  
Come hither, love, 'tis I that bid.  
Fear not, my love, to taste my lip,  
Imagine me to be thy Ship:  
Guide thou the Rudder with thy hand,  
And in my Poop fear not to stand:  
Stand to thy tackle on the hatches,  
My Gunner-room is free from matches:  
Pull up my Sail to thy Main yard,  
My compass use thou, and my Card:  
Lay thou my anchor where thou please,  
In broad, or in the narrow Seas;  
And though the foaming Ocean fret,  
Thy anchor's safe, though it be wet.  
Quoth she, close by fair Sestos' stream,  
(With that within her throat rose phlegm)  
Near to that place there stands a cloister,  
(Poor soul she coughs and voids an Oyster)  
Leander stole his foot upon it,  
And treads it out with veiled Bonnet,  
She thanks Leander for his pains,  
And for another softly strains:  
Her choler laid, she said, mark well,  
And understand what I thee tell:  
Come then, my love, in twi●e of night,  
The time when Owl and Bats take flight:  
In lower window I will place,  
A Taper bright as eyes in face;  
Which light shall be thy load-star bright,  
Through waves to guide thee in the night:  
And with that word, like Ivy wound  
About his neck, arms clasped round:  
Venus did ne'er more dote on Don, 
Not Don Diego, she hated a Spaniard.   
Whose heat in love was cold as stone,  
Then Hero did on springal young;  
So down they fell together clung,  
Upon a primrose hill most sweet,  
Their lips being joined, their tongues did greet,  
So high did grow the fragrant flowers,  
Made fresh by youthful April showers,  
But when she saw them lie so close,  
She put the flowers under her nose:  
And so approaching to the place,  

* It seemeth they made a toil of a pleasure.  Where they lay panting face to face;  
So high did grow the herbs so sweet,  
That covered them from head to feet;  
Her Maid then got into a tree,  
Where plain she might these Lovers see.  
Leander found the watery brook,  
Where never fish was caught with hook,  
Yet bobbing there had been good store,  

† They are called red Worms, because they creep into holes.  With great red worms, some three or four.  
Oh, who hath seen a strucken Deer,  
Or from his eyes in water clear,  
A dabbled Duck with dirt bemired,  
So Hero lay with pleasure tired,  

* A Medlar by the Philosopher, is thought to be an Open-Arse.  On Medlar branch the Maid doth sit,  
One Medlar with a meany met;  
Though she was there, there was to see,  
Nothing but Medlars on the tree.  
we'll leave the Maid upon a crotch,  
Holding by hands, sitting on notch:  
But the sweet sight did so entice,  
That bough was met with her device.  
And now Leander gets him up,  

* Which cup Reader, thou wouldst be loath to drink in.  And closed the acorn and the cup.  
His cuckoo pintle he did thrust  
Into his Oxlip which was just,  
His bachelor's button, straight as line,  
Made way into her Columbine.  
His hooded-hawk he then did bring her,  
Which she received with Lady's finger:  
His sprig of Time, her branch of Rue,  
His primrose, and her Violet blue.  
Leander lusty springal youth  
Did now retire, 'twas so in truth:  
Who, like some youthful prodigal,  
Must needs retire, having spent all.  
He now returned to his friends,  
Who him received with finger's ends.  
The Maid was greedy, though but silly,  
She thought too much went by her belly;  
Oh, she was wrapped with that sweet sight,  
That she did long to enter fight.  
By chance a Weaver passing by,  
Looking aside, she did him spy.  
Then as Adonis' horse did fare,  
When he beheld the friese-land Mare,  
Breaking his reins tied to a Tree,  
And even as like as like may be,  
Setting the runt of horse aside;  

† Rubbish, the Author takes for ●oves Molicum.  Her rubbish did excel in pride.  
She looking earnest at the Weaver,  
The Medlar-branch sooth did deceive her.  
Quoth she, alas! ah me, ah me!  
What, was I born to fall from tree?  
Her clothes her head did canopy,  
She was all bare from head to knee.  
The man accursed, whose trade was scurvy,  
Had thought the world had been turned topsi-turvy.  
Now he did tread as if on Eggs,  
He saw a Medlar twixt her legs:  
I know not how they there did settle,  
But in the Weaver got his Shettle:  
Where we will leave Tom-trumpery,  
To talk of other company.  
Leander having fetched his fees,  
And Hero having covered knees.  
Quoth she, I know thou art no dodger,  
Sweet, have a care of trusty Roger,  
My Dear, quoth she, my Lover true,  
Remember what you from me drew:  
Remember you being full of quiblits,  
Removed your hare's head from my giblits.  
With that afar off she 'gan spy,  

* He had one eye which did ever run.  A fellow running with one eye.  
He wore, because his head was bald,  
An old hats crown which hid the scald.  
His nose was crooked, long, and thin,  
As sharp and long appeared h●s chin,  
His eye brows hung upon his cheeks,  
His head did grow like bed of Leeks,  
His back did overlook his head,  
One of his arms as door-nail dead:  
His fingers wore for Liveries,  
Nails long as Cupid's Quiver is:  
Upon his back he wore coat blue.  
His face would make a dog to spew:  
His legs did go four ways at once,  
He was all skin save some few bones.  
Then Hero said, The weary hour  
Is come for me to go to tower.  
Then farewell Love, Leander said,  
And straight she whistled for her Maid:  
By this John hedge hogg drew him nigh,  
For that his name was not to lie.  
His one eye in her face did peer,  
Quoth he, who'd thought t' have found you here?  
Come; to your father you must go,  
Leander trod upon his toe,  
And said, with biting of his thumb,  
That you saw me, no words but mum:  
So puts his hand to pocket twice,  
And gave him two Cans, or the price:  
Leander could no longer keep her,  
Away she goes with this hedge-creeper.  
He now devised what course to take,  
Fearing that Dough would be his Cake,  
If it were known: So home he goes,  

* Slow to ●o from ●ove.  Passing the time in eating Slows.  
His mind doth run on hero's Lap,  
At father's door he now doth rap:  
Which Porter hearing turns the lock,  
With brazill staff, and comely Frock:  
Where we will leave him for a while,  
And unto Hero turn our stile.  
Fair Hero having past the Spont,  
She now was come unto the Cont—  
Tinent of Seftos, where she dwelled:  
Her heart in passion'gan to melt.  
Unto the Tower close she took,  
And with her finger did unhook  
The Casement, looking forth on stream.  
The Star-light'gan on Flood to gleam:  
For now brave Titan banished was,  
Now long legged Spiders creep on grass;  
When nightingales do sit and sing,  
With prick'gainst breast, and Fairies ring:  
Two hours filled hath been the gut;  
Men now begin to go to Rut:  
When man in Rug doth cry in night;  
Look well to locks and fire-light:  
The time when Thomas with his team,  
Doth lug out dung, and men begin dream:  
When City Gates are shut, not open;  

† Here the Author shows himself a Linguist.  And Dutch men cry, What all A-slopen.  
About this time fair Hero stood,  
Watching Leander in the Flood.  
●he calls for Smock, and puts off foul,  
Washing her parts with soap in Bowl.  
Her foot she washed O pretty foot,  
(But yet I am not come unto it)  
Of knee she washed the comely pan,  
And now I come unto't anon:  
Her thighs she washed with veins so blue,  

* Pode, or loves limepit.  Her Pode likewise of sable hue:  
Below the bottom of her belly,  
Did grow a Toy; of shape most selly:  
Though enough to make a child afeared,  
Two coral lips with a black beard.  
And us that beast that's kept for breed,  
Let's fly her water when sh' has need,  
Which done, her Funnel she turns out and in,  
Which was so like, as't the same had been:  
Here will we leave her naked as nail?  
And to Leander turn out tale.  
Forth from his father's house he went,  
Much like a Bird-bolt being sent,  
From Brazil bow and trusty string,  
With feathers of the Gray-Goose wing.  
He took him to a trusty rock,  
And stripped him to the ebon nock.  
And being naked looked like Mars,  
With purple scab upon his A—  
The seam betwixt his Cod that went,  
Seemed like to Cupid's bow unbent,  
The Cod his quiver, where his arrows  
Did hang, much like a nest of Sparrows.  
But some may think this is a fable,  
He was fringed with hair from Nock to nau'le.  

* Fego is a word of courage, as we cry, St. George.  Fego, saith he, so forth he goes.  
The gravel got between his toes,  
Now feared he Neptune as a God,  
Still running with his hand on Cod.  
O who hath seen a wanton Roe,  
Jump o'er the Fearn, indeed even so  
The lively Skip-Jack mounts and falls,  
And still on Hero, Hero, calls.  
Even with that word, with speedy motion,  
He leaps into the foaming Ocean:  
Th' enamoured Fishes'bout him flock,  
Some play in arm-holes, some in nock:  
Endymion's love than shone outright;  
He spied in hero's Tower a light:  
And in the window looking out,  
A lovely face, that seemed to pout.  
By this fair Hero might discern,  
Leander's head, but not his Stern,  
That frisked underneath the waves:  
And this is all that Hero craves,  
To see himself within her bed,  
Whom billows beat now on the head.  
Leander now turns on his back,  
He yerks out legs and lets arm slack:  

* Here you must note, nothing can be hid from true love.  But then above the water floated,  
The true Loves-lump, which Hero noted.  
Fair Hero had a goodly sight,  
That could discern so far by night.  
He was much troubled with a Shad,  

† Here the Author pitieth Leander, and despiseth the Fish.  That did pursue this lovely Lad.  
The envious fish did so torment him,  
As had't been I, I should have shent him;  
And said, thou art a scabby fish,  
To nimble at fair Heroes dish.  
Hero did note how he was troubled:  
The water 'bout Leander bubbled:  
She looks still forth, kneeling on Mats;  
Joventus meets a shoal of Sprats.  
They him besiege on every side,  
Betwixt his arms and legs they glide.  
Neptune, the dreadful God of Seas,  
On whom did never stick March-Fleas.  
Taking in hand his good eel Spade,  
Towards Leander straight he made:  
The Shad and shoal of Sprats did fly,  
At sight of Neptune's angry eye.  
The God then turned him up-side down,  
And viewed his parts from heel to crown,  
He dallied with his elfin locks,  
And bears him up from shelf and rocks  
His cheeks, his lips, his chin he kissed,  
No part of younker Neptune mist.  
Now Hero of his love made doubt,  
And wished him there in yellow clout.  
His thigh so white he still would fell,  
Than he would kick with horn and heel.  
Quoth Neptune then to buxom Boy,  
Nay, of my courting seem not coy.  
Dost hear, live here my lovely Lad,  
I'll give thee Cod, eat Dace and Shad;  
I am as great a God as Mammon,  
Thou shalt have Ling, Poor John and Sammon.  
And if thou sayest thou wilt not blab,  

* Being lecherous meat.  Thou shalt have Lobster Prawn and Crab,  
● tell thee I am not Curmudgeon,  
Thou shalt have Rotchet, Whiteing, Gudgeon.  
The fish that is by Weavers eaten.  
That must be first with beetle beaten,  

stockfish.  Of Knights heard never are more Dubbins,  
Thou shalt have green fish and their Gubbins:  
I'll bring thee where thou shalt see Lig;  
The lusty Oyster, Shrimp, and Grig:  
Quoth he thou swimmest without force,  
And calls a Dolphin, mount his horse.  
And when thy mind is somewhat laid,  
Thou shalt arrive'gainst tower of Maid.  
For well I know thou'rt thither going;  
For all thy grinning, mocks, and mowing  
I am quoth he, if thou be'st wrath,  
Keep in thy breath to cool thy broth:  
And so away from him he flies;  

* Unkindness will force tears sometimes.  And water stood in Neptune's eyes.  
But he again, quarrel to pick,  
Said, 'bide with me; quoth he, ne nick.  
With that the God, with ireful hand,  
Cast young Leander on the sand:  
Where we will leave him, to say sooth,  

† He had the toothache.  Sucking his tongue with hollow tooth:  
The Watch of Sestos' tower came down.  
With Bill in hand, murrain on Crown.  
Rug-gown on back, lantern in hand,  
By two and two this rusty band,  
Did take their way unto the plate,  
Whereas Leander naked sat.  
These Sons of night did straight him spy,  
Who's there, quoth one? quoth he, 'tis I;  
'Tis I, quoth he: is that an answer?  
It is, quoth he, were't thou my Grandsire:  
The wisest of them than did scan,  
And said' sure Neighbours, 'tis mere man.  
Nay said another, that's not so;  
For this hath nails you see on Toe:  
And mere man hath no feet but fins,  
And this hath legs you see and shins.  
Quoth one, to Sea I shall him hunt,  
Speak if I shall, with that the Cunt—  
— Stable thus spoke, what words spoke he,  
I think, says one, some two or three;  
Go then in peace, and strike him down,  
Then forth steps one with bill so brown,  
A sore-eyed Knave leapt up in rug,  
For manners like your Western Pug.  
His name forsooth, was cleiped Wharton,  
He was e'en born at good Hogs-Norton:  
This Dormouse without wit or skill,  
Ran at Leander with his bill.  
Leander lying on his face,  
Not his back, Dunce running his race:  
His hinder parts bore somewhat high,  
Now was he come Leander nigh:  
He lifts up bill to cleave a rock,  
Bill fled from hands, Nose struck in nock.  
Leander with a start did rise,  
And breaks his nose fast by his eyes.  

* This I commend to thee for a searching Simile.  Oh who hath seen an archer good,  
Poaking for arrow-head with wood;  
So fared this Clot-pole nose to find  
And grubbed till his eyes were blind:  
But all in vain, the more he strove,  
The further in his nose he drove.  
For th'nose indeed it stuck so fast,  
He was forced to leave it, and aghast,  
Runs unto Harper plain to be  
There, Watchmen hired with pence three,  
Who lifting up their gogling eyes,  
They hear a voice, and thus it cries,  
My nose, my nose; my nose and eyes.  
And still toward them apace he hasted,  
Without his nose his face all blasted.  
Away they ran for fear of foes,  
Kibed heels to save they ran on toes.  
For hast we leave them running still,  
And to Leander turn our quill.  
Hero was all this while in dumps,  
Now 'gins he to bestir his stumps.  
Wrath for to say he now did smart,  
He could not pull out nose by art.  
Well to be short for fear of Watch,  
He runs to tower and pulls the latch.  
Divinest Hero was in bed  
The door being open, he in doth tread:  
Yet for no ear should hear him travel;  
From feet he wipes the stony gravel:  
So goes me on nearer and nearer,  
And with one eye did underpeer her.  
Night being warm the clothes were off,  
Sooth 'twas enough to catch a cough:  
Leander thought it was no matter,  
Though teeth within his head did chatter,  
One hand he put upon her toe;  
The other on her buggle-boe.  
Quoth he thus softly, Hero, Hero:  
Away quoth she, and come no near-oh.  
Yet thus she said when she was waked,  
Fie upon pride when men go naked:  
A glimmering taper stood by bed,  
Which in and out did put his head:  
And by that light she did him know,  
Standing like image of Rye-dough.  
The well hung youth then spoke this word,  
Quoth he, I must lay Knife a board.  
I've swum, quoth he, through thick and thin,  
Brine-waves have beat both neck and chin.   

Leander in her Haven cast Anchor.  
He rides secure in Heroes rode,  
Now he begins to lay on load.  
I'm come through watch and their brown bats,  
Now Hero feels his twittle-cum-twats.  
Alas poor soul she did not strive;  
Leander at her rump let drive.  
He now forgot, as I suppose,  
That in his hobbler there was nose.  
I'm come, said he, from side of shore,  
Where lousy beggars sat of yore.  
And now the beggar makes me sing  
The love of the Cawphetuan King:   

Leander's tale:  

On this green bank he first did spy,  
One sunny day the beggar lie,  
Displaying to fair Phoebus' fire,  
This Marigold of love's desire.  
To Marigold I it compare,  
'Cause 'twas the colour of her hair.  
Which still to Titan was displayed,  
In window King stands rich arrayed,  
And spies by chance the beggar lie,  
Back to the ground, face to the sky,  
Then like the Snake she cast her skin,  
Whose ameled body tumbled in  
Her mother's lap in apron green,  
And covered that, it was not seen:  
Her hair in goodly elf-locks hung,  
All down her shoulders, and among  
The roots of it, the dandruff white,  
Like hoared frosts shining by night.  
When Phoebe and her silver train,  
The Yard, Orion, and Charles Wain.  
Look down upon the spires of grass;  
So sprinkled was the head of Lass.  
She wreathed her body on one side,  
Her legs a molehill did divide.  

* It might have been any man's case.  Cawphetua's mouth did water shed  
Fancies and toys were in his head.  
Under her arm did Cupid lie,  
And shot Cawphetua in the eye.  
Who closely stood in window peeping  
Whilst beggar poor on bank lay sleeping,  
He took his love ere she did rise,  
And sung this note with tears in eyes.   

O King, what art thou but a bubble  
That swims in stream so swift;  
Thy joy soon turns to grief and trouble,  
Much like a Boat at drift;  
That severed is from poop of Ship,  
That wanders in the Ocean;  
The beggar turned upon her hip.  
Then lay still without motion.    

He takes me his Prospective Glass.  

My passion shall appear in print,  
Make ready Press good Hedger,  
Say thus Cawphetua saw a dint,  
And fell in love with beggar.   

Ah me poor King! I'm now a captive made  
To one that hath no living, land, or trade.  
What shall I say in this? What shall I do;  
Shall I love her to foot hath ne'er a shoe?  
I am a King, my state in State is mighty,  
Shall I love her who hath sold aquavitae?  
My rich blood boils at this so sweet espial,  
Even like a Boar, so chafes my Collop Royal.  
He calls for page, and him for water sends;  
This way and that; he the proud Grifsel bends:  
The reason why his bobber stood so stiff,  
Uncovered lay the silly beggar's cliff.  
As he was standing his full view to take,  
He spied her stretch, and stretching 'gan to wake:  
Being big with Thomas, she held up one leg,  
And like the ant, on molehill laid her egg.  
Then did she rise with such a rude behaviour,  
That Royal nose took winding of that savour;  
Which made him say, behold I come to win thee,  
Now I perceive that thou hast something in thee.  
Down, down he goes the beggar to behold,  
And as he went he calls for purse of gold.    

The end of this Passion.  

The beggar now is come to gate of King,  
To beg for bread and meat, or bread and ling.  
Which when the King beheld within his Portal,  
Come, grass and hay, quoth he, we are all mortal.  
She with a Crutch did cry, God save his grace,  
The honest King bade all forsake the place.  
Which when the Lords and all the rest were gone,  
Quoth he, speak beggar, and speak words but one.   

Wilt thou forsake thy beggar's life,  
And leave off wearing patches?  
Thou shalt no more wear string in knife,  
He throws, the beggar catches.  
Dear take this purse; nay be not coy;  
The simple mute doth stand,  
Quoth she, my Liege, Perdon a moy,  
So fell on knee and hand.  
Thou shalt, quoth he, I do not mock,  
If thou wilt take my offer,  
Have stocking, shoe, and Holland smock,  
Eke gold to put in coffer.  
Thy rooms they shall be hung with arras,  
Head-stuck with silver pins:  
Thou shalt no more sell Rosa solis,  
Nor buy the Coney-skins.  
But first resolve me truly this,  
Hath any tag or rag  
Put Probe into thy Orifice,  
Or watered thy black nag?  
No, doughty Liege, I'll tell you true,  
Though poor, I have been chaste;  
No man did ever here imbrue,  
(Pointing beneath her wast.)  
With that he took her by the hand,  
Which was by Phoebus parched,  
Quoth he arise, arise and stand:  
To lodge of King they Marched.  
Which when they came in room called private,  
None but themselves alone,  
At lousy beggar he lets drive at,  
'Twas dark, her name was Joan,  
Dear Liege, quoth she; away, quoth he,  
So lays her down on back;  
And with his finger he doth not linger,  

* Tack, by reason it would hold tack.  But pulls me out his tack.  
His Tassel gentle he did put  
Into her homely Mew,  
His Rounsifal in her Cob-nut,  
In bladder were Beans blue.  
He laid her head against a stoop,  
She knew well his pretence:  
He taught the beggar her lyripoop,  
And paid her odd five pence.  
He used art with both his thumbs,  
Quoth she, dread Lord, no more;  
His curral tickled her tooth-gums,  
Yet open stood the door:  
With fingers wet in came a Lord,  
Who heard a noise in house;  
Says beggar now, dread Lord, no word,  
But peace and catch a Mouse.  
The noble spied him very soon,  
And fell low on his knee,  
He saw King in his honeymoon,  
And all to be shitten was he,  
Quoth Baron bold, Cawphetua then,  
Your Grace may have doun-pallet:  
Now he regards not Noble man,  

* Her Wallet was laid under her.  But too't he goes ding-mallet.  
Her Hockly-hole Kings should abhor,  
Being man was in that place;  
He puts in Glasting-uri-core  
Before the young man's face.  
Well, Noble man at last 'gan call,  
Quoth King to Lord, go down;  
And bring me here a Camphire ball,  
I'll wash from head to crown.  
And as you go give order straight,  
Unto the Cook for supper;  
(Thine ear, 'tis matter of much weight)  
Bring brimstone and sweet butter.  
Go get thee gone, and bring with speed  
Those things I have appointed,  
Of robes bring store, truth is indeed,  
I'll have my King anointed.   

Quoth Hero, What became of Tore?  
Says he, Omnia vincit amor.  
He was o'ercome and glad to fly,  
To place where muffl●d he doth lie.  
Leander now made end of tale,  
Without shirt lining, or shirt male:  
Indeed his tale was well compact,  
For every word he made an act.  
Her legs were tied in truelove's knot,  
On top of back, full well I wot:  
Poor soul she lay like cheek of ox  
Stewed in a pot, or reeking Socks.  
The Lark now sings with cheerful note,  
And morn was come as grey as groat:  
O day, quoth she, to love most cruel!  
Hero had mess of water gruel,  
Which stood by bed before provided,  
And hand of Hero straight is guided  
To mouth of Puny to make strong,  
The knot of love's White-leather-thong:  
Then up heflings, and with a start,  
Quoth naked man, I must depart:  
First twixt her pillars, truth to say,  
Leander wrote, Ne ultra.  
No sooner he from bed did jump,  
Out flew the nose with such a thump,  
That hero's Father in next room,  
Did leave his bed and in did cone.  
Leander hears the Man of age,  
Who called for sword unto his page;  
He seeing him come, with much amazement,  
He runs and creeps out at the casement.  
His Calla when-pen-cough indeed,  
Was much indangered by his speed,  
For hook of window got it fast,  
And held him there, till all-agast,  
Fair Hero rose and went unto him,  
And with her finger did undo him.  
He down does fall without a word:  
At window struck old man with sword.  
Who seeing on floor there lay a nose,  
Quoth he, I've l●id him I suppose:  
This was the time when friars grey,  
Did ring to Martin's break of day:  
When Poets good do wake to plot,  
And drunkard leaves his cloak for shot;  
When Carriers put one shoes and hose,  
And Maids do empty stools called close:  
That was the time when Leander fell,  
From forth of window, truth to tell.  
He had forsook his divine Pillows,  
To fall among the raging billows.  
Blue-beard called Neptune, being mad  
For the disgrace he lately had;  
This is the troth I need not blab;  
Turned young Leander to a Crab:  
And made the Proverb, sure 'twas so,  
That love must creep where 't cannot go:  
And his dwelling was Abydos,  
He was doomed ever to creep sideways  
Poor Heroes sorrow now redoubles,  

* The fourth part of a bushel.  He left her in a peck of troubles:  
A senseless man came to the tower,  
One sense he wants having but four.  
Now smell my meaning if you can,  
With him came Roger, Thomas, John,  
And all the rest of Mars his crew,  
Whose eyes were black, some grey, none blue,  
This Sheepshead-rabble comes and knocks,  
As they would break open all the locks.  
Fair Heroes father in a rigor,  
Hearing that noise, runs down like Tygor:  
Quoth he who's there? what are ye drunk?  
And still the more they stirred they stunk.  
The Watch, says one, open the Gate,  
The Watch, says he, having a shrewd pate.  
He op's the door, and standeth still,  
And spoke these words, What is your will?  
Our will, quoth he, what call you that?  
And spied the Nose pined in his hat,  
Which when they all of them spied,  
This, this is he, strike down they cried.  
Then round about they him environ,  
And up they l●ft their rusty iron.  
He broke away, and bade them base,  
And after they did run apace:  
And ran direct, as I suppose,  
For still the man did follow his Nose:  
He followed close with his defect,  
And still his Nose was his prospect.  
Oh, had they catched him them among,  
And all their bills at him they dung.  
But note the pity of the Gods  
Extended toward these Hodmandods,  
And first for him that lost his Nose,  
(The truth to you I will disclose;)  
Because his face did seem to scowl,  
The Gods transformed him to an Owl.  
And for this was i'th' dead of night  
They doomed him never by daylight  
To show his being, so God Pan  
Made the first Owl of a Watchman:  
And when he thought to cry, My Nose;  
To whit, to boo he shrieked, and up he rose,  
And, being compelled by th' angry God,  
He clapped his wings and flew to 
* A famous Surgeon in his time.  Tod▪  
Yet the God's fury was not done,  
They were transformed each mother's son.  
Says one, Ye Gods, is it your will?  
And spoke no more, his mouth turned bill:  
And cause the Owl he should not mock,  
The Gods made him the first woodcock:  
He wears the form of a Watchman still,  
And will for aye, witness his bill.  
One Watchman, he did stay behind,  
And he was turned to buzzard blind:  
The last was thinking how to run,  
Saying a fair thread they have spun;  
Because he said these words in spite,  
He lived and died a bird of nigh●:  
His ill luck sure I must not smother,  
He did watch that night for another.  
And for because his shape was ill,  
He never flies but in the twill—.  
In memory of this mischance.  
The Record you may see in France,  
Upon each door where they must watch,  
In chalk they set on door or hatch,  
The very form of a birds foot:  
In England they come nearer to't,  
For the three claws you plainly see,  
That is for every claw a penny.   

But now to old man in a trance,  
We must proceed to his mischance;  
And so his grief, and much misprision,  
We'll tell what happened in his Vision.  
There came to him, as 'twere in sight,  
A lovely Lady, but no Knight.  
The Lady, seemed for Lover lost,  
To be on bed of Nettle tossed;  
Of Nettle; worse! for to the quick,  
She often had endured the prick  
Without complaining, and poor ape,  
To her it seemed but as a 
† An old word, but young men use it.  Jape.  
As Poet-witty well could say,  
A sport, a merriment, a play.  
But she poor Lady almost frantic,  
As you may see in arras antic,  
With hair dishevelled rooms about,  
Vowing to find Leander out,  
And get him in where no base patch,  
With painted staff, no rugged watch;  
No nor her father with head hoary,  
Should come to interrupt the story:  
That is, she meant for her delight,  
Leander in her book should write.  
And blame her not to rove with randing;  
For she had lost her understanding,  
Which standing stiffly to her, might have put,  

* No cut to unkindness.  Some comfort to have cured her cut.  
But I too far digress, this fearful sight,  
The aged father from his wits did fright,  
Or them from him, I know not whether;  
But sure I am they went not both together.   

A mad old man he was, and lo he died.  
Fair Hero, like the wench that cried,  
Till she was turned to a stone,  
For her Leander made her moan.  
But when she heard, poor silly drab,  
That he was turned into a ccab,  
She then fell down as flat as flounder,  
Her Floodgates oped, and her own water drowned her    

THE EPITAPH.  
They both were drowned, whilst Love and Fate contended;  
And thus they both pure flesh, like pure fish ended.    

THE MOCK ROMANS.  Dwarf, 
FLY from this forest Squire; fly trusty spark:  
I fear like Child whom Maid hath left in dark.  Squire, 
O coward base, whose fear will never lin,  
Till't shrink thy heart as small as head of pin:  
Lady, with pretty finger in her eye,  
Laments her Lamkin Knight, and shall I fly?  
Is this a time for blade to shift for's self,  
When Giant vile call● Knight a sneaking Elf?  
This day (a day as fair as heart could wish▪  
This Giant stood on shore of Sea to fish:  
For angling Rod, he took a sturdy oak,  
For line a Cable, that in storm ne'er broke;  
His hook was such as heads the end of Pole,  
To pluck down house, ere fire consumes it whole:  
His hook was baited with a dragon's tail,  
And then on Rock he stood, to bob for Whale:  
Which straight he caught, and nimbly home did pack  
With ten cart load of dinner on his back.  
So homeward bent, his eye too rude, and cunning,  
Spies Knight and Lady, by a hedge a sunning.  
That Modicum of meat he down did lay,  
(For it was all he eat on Fasting day.)  
They come in's rage, he spurns up huge tree roots,  
Now stick to Lady Knight, and up with boots.  Enter giant, Knight, Damsel. Giant, 
Bold recreant wight! what fate did hi●her call thee,  
To tempt his strength that has such power to maul thee?  
How durst thy puling Damsel hither wander  
What was the talk you by yond hedge did mander?  Damsel, 
Patience sweet man of might: alas, heaven knows,  
We only hither came to gather slows!  
And bullies two or three, for truth to tell ye,  
I've longed six weeks, with them to fill my belly.  
I'fecks, if you'll believe't, nought else was meant sure  
By this our jaunt, which errants call adventure:  Giant, 
Shall I grow meek as babe, when every Trull is  
So bold to steal my slows, and pick my bullies?  Knight 
Fear not, let him storm on, and still grow rougher,  
Thou that art bright as candle cleared by snuffer,  
Canst ne'er endure a blemish or eclipse,  
From such a hook-nosed, foul-mouthed blober lips:  
Ere he shall boast he used thee thus to his people,  
I'll see him first hanged high as any Steeple.  Giant, 
If I but upward heave my Oaken twig,  
I'll teach thee play the Tomboy, her the Rig,  
Within my forest bounds; what doth she ail,  
But she may serve as Cook to dress my Whale?  
In this her Damsels tire, and robe of sarsenet,  
She shall souse Bore, fry tripes, and wild hog's harsnet,  Knight, 
Monster vile, thou mighty ill-bred Lubber,  
Art thou not moved to see her whine and bluber?  
Shall Damsel fair (as thou must needs confess her)  
With Canvas apron, Cook thy meat at Dresser?  
Shall she that is of soft and pliant mettle,  
(Whose fingers silk would gall) now scour a Kettle?  
Though not to scuffle given, now I'll thwart thee,  
Let blouse thy daughter serve for shillings-forty.  
'Tis meetter (I think) such ugly Baggages  
Should in a kitchen drudge for yearly wages,  
Then gentle she, who hath been bred to stand  
Near Chair of Queen, with Island Sh●ck in hand,  
At Questions and commands all night to play,  
And amber Possits eat at break of day;  
Or score out husbands in the charcoal ashes,  
With Country Knights (not roaring Country Swashes)  
Hath been her breeding still, and's more fit far,  
To play on Virginals and the Gitt●r,  
Then stir a Sea-coal fire, or scum a Cauldron,  
When thou'rt to break thy fast on a bull's cauldron.  Giant, 
Then I perceive I must lift up my Pole,  
And deal your Love-rich noddle such a dole,  
That every blow shall make so huge a clatter,  
Men ten leagues off shall ask, Ha! what's the matter?  Damsel, 
King grumbling youth! I know that thou art able  
And want of breeding makes thee proud to squabble;  
Yet sure thy nature doth compunction mean,  
Though ('las!) thy Mother was a sturdy Quean:  
Let not meek Lovers kindle thy fierce wrath,  
But keep thy blustering breath to cool thy broth.  Knight, 
Whine not my love, his fury straight will wast him,  
Stand off a while, and see how I'll lambast him.  Squire, 
Now look to't Knight, this such a desperate blade is,  
In Gaul he swinged the valiant Sir Amadis.  Dwarf, 
With bow now Cupid shoot the Son of Punk,  
With cross bow else, or Pellet out of Trunk!  Giant, 
I'll strike thee till thou sink where the abode is,  
Of wights that sneak below, called Antipodes.  Enter Merlyn, 
My art shall turn this combat to delight,  
They shall unto fantastic music fight.  

SOME Christian people all give ear,  
Unto the grief of us,  
Caused by the death of three children dear,  
The which it happened thus.   

And eke there befell an accident,  
By fault of a Carpenters Son,  
Who to Saw chips his sharp Axe lent,  
Woe worth the time may Lon.—   

May London say, woe worth the Carpenter,  
And all such blockhead fools,  
Would he were hanged up like a Serpent here,  
For jefting with edg-tools.   

For into the chips there fell a spark,  
Which Put out in such flames,  
That it was known into Southwark,  
Which lives beyond the Thames.   

For lo the Bridge was wondrous high  
With water underneath,  
O'er which as many fishes fly,  
As birds therein doth breath.   

And yet the fire consumed the bridge,  
Not far from place of landing,  
And though the building was full big,  
It fell down not with standing.   

And eke into the water fell,  
So many Pewter dishes,  
That a man might have taken up very well,  
Both boiled and roasted Fishes.   

And thus the bridge of London Town,  
For building that was sumptuous,  
Was All by fire Half burnt down,  
For being too contumptious.   

And thus you have all, but half my Song,  
Pray list to what comes after;  
For now I have cooled you with the Fire,  
I'll warm you with the water.   

I'll tell you what the river's name is,  
Where these children did slide-a,  
It was fair London's swiftest Thames,  
That keeps both time and Tide-a.   

All on the tenth of January,  
To the wonder of much people,  
'Twas frozen o'er, that well 'twould bear  
Almost a Country Steeple.   

Three children sliding thereabouts,  
Upon a place too thin,  
That so at last it did fall out,  
That they did all fall in.   

A great Lord there was that laid with the King,  
And with the King great wager makes:  
But when he saw he could not win,  
He ●ight, and would have drawn stakes.   

He said it would bear a man for to slide,  
And laid a hundred pound;  
The King said it would break, and so it did,  
For three children there were drowned.   

Of which one's head was from his Should—  
Ers stricken, whose name was John,  
Who then cried out as loud as he could,  
O Lon-a Lon-a London.   

Oh! tut-tut-turn from thy sinful race,  
Thus did his speech decay:  
I wonder that in such a case,  
He had no more to say.   

And thus being drowned, a lack, a lack,  
The water ran down their throats,  
And stopped their breaths three hours by the Clock,  
Before they could get any Beats.   

Ye Parents all that children have  
And ye that have none yet;  
Preserve your children from the grave,  
And teach them at home to sit.   

For had these at a Sermon been,  
Or else upon dry ground,  
Why then I would never have been seen,  
If that they had been drowned,   

Even as a Huntsman ties his dogs,  
For fear they should go fro him,  
So tie your children with severities clogs,  
Unty'um and you'll undo.   

God bless our Noble Parliament,  
And rid them from all fears,  
God bless all th' Commons of this Land,  
And God bless some o'th' Peers.    

THE PIGG.  

(1)  
I Sing not Reader of the sight  
twixt Bailiffs and that doughty Knight  
Sir Ambrose, sung before:  
Not of that dismal Counter scuffle,  
Nor yet of that Pantofle,  
They say the Virgin wore.   

(2)  
No turkeycock with pygmies fray,  
Or whether then did get the day,  
Nor yet Tom Coriots shoes;  
Nor yet the swine-faced maiden's head,  
Ith' Netherlands they say was bred,  
Is subject of my Muse.   

(3)  
But in rhyme Doggrill I shall tell,  
What danger to a Pig befell,  
As I can well rehearse;  
As true as if the Pig could speak  
On Spit, in Prose would either squeak,  
Or grunt it out in verse.   

(4)  
A boisterous rout of armed Host  
Just as the Pig was ready roast,  
Rushed in at doors, (God bless us!)  
The Leader of this Warlike rout,  
Strong men at arms, and stomach stout,  
I ween, was Captain Bessus.   

(5)  
They lately had in Scotland been,  
Where they such store of Sows had seen,  
That garred them hate their Babbies:  
And Bessus men near Norton lay,  
Where Pigs you know on Organs play,  
That once belonged to abbeys.   

(6)  
It was a Tithe Pig I confess,  
And so the crime might be no less,  
Then if't a Cassock wore;  
But yet in Orders it was ne'er,  
Nor ever preached, unless it were  
Ith'tub the night before.   

(7)  
Nor was it Popishly inclined,  
Although by forest law their kind,  
Are taught to use the Ring:  
What though it wore a Scarlet-Coat?  
It ne'er appeared i'th' Kirk to vote,  
For her Fine Baby King.   

(8)  
But right or wrong, such dainty Cates  
Were ne'er ordained for Reprobates,  
The fat o'th' earth is theirs;  
The Saints by Faith and Plunder have  
An heritance, and must enslave  
Malignants, and their Heirs.   

(9)  
Fall on, fall on, they cry aloud,  
This Pig's of Antichristian brood,  
You'll find we are no dastards;  
Their teeth so sharp, their stomachs keen  
That Marriots you would them ween,  
Or Wood of Kent's own Bastards.   

(10)  
But now to tell how from the paws  
Of th' unlicked Whelps with greedy jaws  
This pig escaped, hereafter;  
As than our bellies 'gan to prank it,  
(Thanks to Bess for that good banquet)  
Will fill your mouth with laughter.   

(11)  
A sturdy lass with courage bold,  
On pig, and spit, and all, laid hold,  
And swore she would it rescue;  
For whether they their teeth did set,  
For anger, or for hunger whet,  
She weighed not that a fescue.   

(12)  
This brave encounter had you seen,  
You would have sworn she should be Queen  
Of th' Amazons, or fairies,  
And if she make good the retreat,  
Her sole protectress we'll create  
Of milkmaids and their Daryes.   

(13)  
Up stairs she marcheth in a trice,  
And safely conveyed is the Greice  
Into my Lady's chamber;  
Such holy grounds not trod by those,  
Whose armpits, and whose socklesse toes,  
Are not so sweet as amber.   

(14)  
The Jews ne'er eat their paschal Lamb  
In half such haste, as we did cram  
This pig unto our dinners:  
Like Presbyterians we did feed,  
No grace that day our meat did need,  
For that belongs to sinners.   

(15)  
And when the story of the pig  
Was done; the pettitoes a jig,  
Came tripping in at Supper,  
'Twas meat and drink to us to see  
The soldiers by the Jade to be  
Thus thrust besides the crupper.    

ON DOCTOR GILL, Master of Paul's SCHOOL.  

IN Paul's Church yard in London,  
There dwells a noble Ferker,  
Take heed you that pass,  
Lest you taste of his Lash;  
For I have found him a Jerker:  
Still doth he cry,  
Take him up, take him up Sir,  
Untruss with expedition.  
O the Burchin tool  
Which he winds i'th' School,  
Frights worse than an Inquisition.   

If that you chance to pass there,  
As doth the man of Blacking,  
He insults like a Puttock,  
O'er the prey of the Buttock,  
With a whipped Arse sends him packing,  
Still doth, &c.   

For when this well trussed Trouncer,  
Into the School doth enter,  
With his Napkin at his Nose,  
And his Orange stuffed with Gloves:  
On any Arse he'll venture,  
Still doth, &c.   

A French man void of English,  
Enquiring for Paul's Steeple,  
His pardon a Moy,  
He counted a toy,  
For he whipped him before all people,  
Still doth, &c.   

A Welsh man once was wh●pt there,  
Until be did beshit him,  
His Cuds-Pluttera Nail,  
Could not prevail,  
For he whipped the Cambro Britain.  
Still doth, &c.   

A Captain of the trained Band,  
Surnamed Cornelius Wallis:  
He whipped him so sore,  
Both behind and before;  
He notched his Arse like Tallis,  
Still doth, &c.   

For a piece of beef and Turnip,  
Neglected with a Cabbage,  
He took up the Male-Pillion  
Of his bouncing maid Gillian,  
And sewed her like a Baggage.  
Still doth, &c.   

A Porter came in rudely,  
And disturbed the humming Concord:  
He took up his Frock,  
And paid his Nock,  
And sowced him with his own Cord,  
Still doth he cry, &c.    

GILL upon GILL: OR, Gills Ass uncased, unstript, unbound.  

SIR, did you me this Epistle send,  
Which is so vile and lewdly penned;  
In which no line I can espy  
Of sense, or true Orthography,  
So slovenly it goes,  
In verse and Prose,  
For which I must pull down your Hose:  
O good Sir, then cried he,  
In private let it be,  
And do not sauce me openly.   

Yes Sir, I'll sauce you openly,  
Before Sound and the company;  
And that none at thee may take heart,  
Though thou art bachelor of Art:  
Though thou hast paid thy F●es  
For thy Degrees.  
Yet I will make thy Arse to sneer;  
And now I do begin  
To thresh it on thy skin,  
For now my hand is in, is in.   

First for the themes which thou me sent,  
Wherein much nonsense thou didst vent;  
And for that barbarous piece of Greek,  
For which in Gartheus thou didst seek,  
And for thy faults not few,  
In tongue Hebrew:  
For which a Grove of Birch is due;  
Therefore me not beseech  
To pardon now thy breech,  
For I'll be thy Arse Leach, Arse Leach.   

Next for the offence that thou didst give,  
When as in Trinity thou didst live,  
And hadst thy Arse in Wadham Coll. mult  
For bidding sing, 
* When he was Clark in Wadham, and being by his place to begin a Psalm he flung out of Church, bidding the people sing to the praise and Glory of God Quicunque vult.  Quicunque vult,  
And for thy 
† He was tossed in a Blanket.  blanketing,  
And many such a thing,  
For which thy name in Town doth ring,  
And none deserves so ill.  
To hear as bad as Gill,  
Thy name it is a Proverb still.   

Next since thou a Preacher were, 
A knave's tongue and a whore's tail who can hold?   
Thou ventest hast such rascal Geer,  
For which the French men all cried fie,  
To hear such Pulpit ribaldry,  
And sorry were to see,  
So worthy a degree,  
So ill to be bestowed on thee;  
But glad am I to say  
The Masters made thee stay,  
Till thou in 
* He did fit four times for his degree.  Quarto didst them pray.   

But now remains the vilest thing,  
The Ale house barking 'gainst the K.  
And all his brave and Noble Peers,  
For which thou venturedst for thy ears,  
And if thou hadst thy right,  
Cut off, they had been quite,  
And thou hadst been a Rogue in sight:  
But though thou mercy find,  
Yet I'll not be so kind,  
But I'll jerk thee behind, behind.   
FINIS-