THE NEW ACADEMY OF COMPLIMENT THE NEW Academy OF COMPLIMENTS, ERECTED For Ladies, Gentlewomen, Courtiers, Gentlemen, Scholars, Soldiers, Citizens, Countrymen, and all persons, of what degree soever, of both Sexes. Stored with Variety of Courtly and Civil Compliments, Eloquent Letters of Love and Friendship. WITH An Exact COLLECTION Of the Newest and Choicest SONGS à la Mode, Both Amorous and Jovial, COMPILED By the most refined Wits of this Age. London: Printed for Samuel Speed, near the Inner Temple-gate in Fleetstreet. 1669. To the Reader. IF thou a Freshman art, and through bent, To bear Love's Arms, and follow Cupid's Tent, Find whom to love; The next thing you must do, Learn how to speak her fair, to write, and woo. Last having won thy Mistress to thy lure, I'll teach thee how to make her love endure. This is my aim, I'll keep within this place, And in this Road my Chariot-wheel I'll trace, Whilst thou dost live, and art a Bachelor, The love of one above the ●est pre●er, To whom thy soul says, Thou alone content me, But such a one shall not from heaven be sent thee. Such are not dropped down from the Azure Sk●e, But thou must seek her out with busy eye. Well knows the Huntsman where his toils to set, And in what Den the Boar his teeth doth whet. Well knows the Fowler where to lay his Gin; The Fisher knows what Pool the Fish are in, And thou that studiest to become a Lover, Learn in what place most Virgins to discover: Which having done, make one thy sole delight, Then thou must study to dissemble right; Swear by her Beauty, seemingly be loath To break the Bond of such a sacred Oath: Sigh when she sighs, and what thou seest her do, By imitation strive to do so too. Gaze on her eyes, and when thou seest her sip, K●ss thou the Glass where she shall place her Lip. But I'll no longer keep thee at the door, Peruse the Book, for that will teach thee more. An Advertisement To all Gentlemen, Booksellers, or others. WHereas Samuel Speed Bookseller, hath lately disposed himself to a Wholesale Trade for Books, not making any Appearance of that Employment, as formerly he did, These are to certify, That those persons that please to apply themselves to him for Books, shall be as well used as by any person whatsoever; And whosoever hath any Study, or Library of Books, or Copies, either in Manuscript, or such as have been already Printed, to dispose of, shall receive from him the full Value thereof, to the said Parties ample Satisfaction. Complimental Expressions towards Men, Leading to The Art of Courtship. SIR, Your Goodness is as boundless, as my desires to serve you. Sir, Your Virtues are the Loadstones that draw even your enemies to love and to admire you. Sir, It is my profession to appear in all places a servant to your Merits. Sir, I have nourished in myself a continual care of seeking opportunities to do you service. Sir, You have so pursued me with your favours, that I am capable of no other pleasure, but to entertain them. Sir, Such is your deserts and my necessity, that I want both words and services to express how unfeignedly I honour you. Sir, Your bounties have been showered upon me with such excess, that I am uncapable of a Compliment. Sir, I shall desire no greater glory from you, than new proofs of my obedience. Sir, When I have finished your desires, I should in●reat you to reserve some new Commands, so great a pleasure I take in being yours. Sir, You have deserved more services from me, than my life is able to perform. Sir, Such is the excess of my affection, that all my ●assions do but wait upon your good fortunes. Sir, I confess I never merited the effects of such nobleness, as that you should account of me as an object for your virtuous inclinations. Sir, The pleasure I entertain to consider your goodness, is more satisfaction to me, than my advancement. Sir, Should I not render you thanks for your many favours, I should die of a deep impatience. Sir, Your goodness hath forced me to a silence, that I am not able to render you sufficient thanks for so great a favour. Sir, You are so highly generous, that I am altogether sencesess. Sir, With the same joy that I formerly en braced your friendship, I entertained the good news of your happy Marriage; and shall love you with the same passions as before. Sir, I have made a vow to honour you all my life, and not to remit one point of the passion I have to do you service. Sir, I am daily in disquiet, and shall be, till some occasion be offered me suddenly wherein I may appear to you to be more than verbal. Sir, This tyranny of your humour or inclination, is too great a punishment for me to groan under. Sir, 'Tis my ambition to conserve the Honour I have obtained of being your servant. Sir, You are so noble in all respects, that I have learned to love, as well as to admire you. Sir, I am grown jealous of your generosity, your favours come so fast on me, that I shall be forced to seem ingrateful. Sir, Your passions are mine; Nor can I live more in freedom, than when I am bound to you in the bonds of Friendship. Sir, You are the rising Sun which I adore. Sir, I wear you in my heart. Sir, You are the Star I reach at. Sir, You are the Miracle of Friendship. Sir, Your Goodness wants a Precedent. Sir, You have the power to sway me as you please. Sir, Be pleased to instruct me how I may thank your love. Sir, I am your Friend, and that word speaks me wholly yours. Sir, You have so far engaged me, that I know not what I can do, that is not at your command. Sir, Wh●n I would admire you, you wrap me up in wonder. Sir, My zeal is so fervent towards you, that I am sick with passion. Sir, 〈◊〉 you have not cast off the name of Friend, make 〈◊〉 companion of your cares. Sir, I take so much pleasure in serving you, that I am proud to please you. Sir, You are the only Anchor of my hopes. Sir, I shall study to chronicle your Virtues. Sir, Fear no dangers, my Arms shall be your Sanctuary. Sir, You are so full of fair desert, that I have no faculty but what is yours. Sir, You are so highly noble, that your Purse is my Exchequer. Sir, I am a captive to your Honour, and your fair Example steers me. Sir, You● Compliments call your Faith in question. Sir, You tell me stories midnight would blush to hear. Sir, The Ocean's not more boundless than your Favours. Sir, Be confident of my affection, while I have room to lodge you in my bosom. Sir, I am sick till I see you, whose presence is my restorative. Sir, Your Language is more dubious than an Oracle. Sir, You have the power to steer me as you please. Sir, I am in so great an Ecstasy for your safety, that passion, like midnight, sits upon my thoughts. Sir, To be obedient to your Commands, is a duty I am proud of. Sir, The blessings of your Mistress fall upon you. Sir, I'll rath●r doubt an Oracle, than question what you deliver. Sir, My want of power to pay those Debts I owe to you and Honour, makes me accuse my fortunes. Sir, I yield myself to your direction, manage me at your pleasure. Sir, Your Accomplishments speaks you the Muse's Darling; you have sucked the Marrow of the Court. Sir, You are amorous as the youthful May. Sir, I'll be just to you, as Heaven to Truth. Sir, I'll out-wait a Bailiff to attend you. Sir, You value my weak deserts with too much partiality. Sir, Necessity hath neither law, nor shame; for contrary to my nature, I am forced to become an humble and an earnest Suit●r to you. Sir, You have overrun the world in Honour's Race. Sir, I am honoured in this Acknowledgement. Sir, I shall inform the Lady of your zeal in her Commendation. Sir, Be pleased to instruct me how I may requite your love. Sir, You have power to oblige my soul. Sir, I must die, or live to be ungrateful. Sir, Let me beg the trouble of a pardon; if I have mi●tted those honour's due to your deserts. Sir, Without a Compliment, I am your Friend, and that one word speaks me wholly yours. Sir, Pray admit this stranget to your knowledge, his deserts will requite your trouble. Sir, Since I must be conquered by your courtesies, 'tis my glory to be your slave. Sir, Having your favour I am rich, without it none so miserable. Sir, I shall not be more importunate than mannerly. Sir, This Visit is as welcome, as the greatest honour you could do me. Sir, May your own Virtues be your Guard. Sir, I congratulate your happy presence. Sir, May this meeting create a lasting League of Amity betwixt us. Sir, I should be entirely happy, should I find an occasion to imprint the Characters of your Virtues in my breast, by a more firm acquaintance. Sir, Your Civilities have endeared you to me; you shall rule as a Plant in the Orb of my affections. Sir, May your love be fortunate, that delights may stream into your bosom. Sir, The pleasures of the morning wait upon you. Sir, Your Virtue and Eloquence make you immortal upon earth. Sir, From the first time that I beheld you, I have made it my zeal to express myself your most humble servant. Sir, If you love, as you say you do, you will have patience: True love will last a siege. Sir, It is the design of my Ambition to be passionately your most faithful servant. Sir, The pleasure I have in your love, and the assurance of my own innocency, hath caused me to give this new remembrance of my being wholly yours. Sir, Rather than lose your company, I would compass the utmost bounds of the Terrestrial Globe. Sir, I am yours, and will be so, though fate & death forbid. Sir, I am in earnest, 'tis not my humour to treat my friends with dreams. Sir, This your Barbarity to your Friend, shall not make me forget you, nor my own duty, for though the strongest love oftentimes degenerates into the greatest hate, yet I am resolved to live and die yours. Sir, Your suit is an impertinent trouble to us both, for be assured it is as possible for the Stars to forget their course, as for me to love you. Sir, Nothing shall rob my heart of the fair image of your Virtues, but Death itself. Sir, Your Bounty exceeds the small flock of my Merits, that durst not have entertained such an ungrateful thought, as to be worthy of those favours you afford me. Sir, It is by your bounty I am enabled to make a Present, accept therefore of this small one, that the world may testify how much I glory to proclaim the first Founders of my estate. Sir, I have ●ound you so much my faithful friend hitherto, that I doubt not but you will appear so hereafter, if need require. Sir, Fortune is now propitious, and hath sent you this grateful acknowledgement for all your favours. Sir, Your Mind contains a Spring of Virtue, each day affords me a fresh Character of your Friendship. Sir, Your reality hath gained my affection, and I want nothing more, than an occasion to testify my acknowledgements. Sir, Fortune is now turned Strumpet, and extorts from me an interest for the sum of favours she formerly did trust me with. Sir, Fortune, I thank her, hath now brought me acquainted with Necessity; for this is my opportunity of embracing so rich a Treasure as yourself. Sir, Be wise, and as the Proverb saith, Look before on leap; he is happy that can withstand a Temptation with a noble Resolution. Sir, Should I twine my arms to Cable, sit up all ●ight like a Watching Candle, and distil my Brains through my Eyelids, yet I must love you; I then losing you, and you me, who is the third person shall hinder us●punc; Sir, You seem to be a man of much reading, you talk of nothing but of warbling Rhapsodies. Sir, You understand your Authority over me, I dare not deny my endeavours to perform whatsoever you shall please to command. Sir, Heaven which hears and answers prayers, give a blessing to all your virtuous desires. Sir, The late courtesies you did me, are but borrowed, and like an honest Tenant, I shall provide my Rent against the time of your demand. Sir, I would advise you to be careful of your Honour, but I doubt you were never yet right worshipful. Sir, Let this suffice, I am satisfied; your innocency hath cleared my jealousy. Sir, I am ignorant wherein I am guilty of any thing may prompt you to suspect either my love, or duty. Sir, I cannot be so tedious in the performance of your Commands, as you are to employ me. Sir, Farewell, you are grown rude; I dare not hear you farther. Sir, I hate your base desires, you and your lust continue, till shame work an amendment. Sir, Sin is a brave Orator; you give your lusts the golden titles of pleasure and delight, but forget what bitterness attends the end. Sir, I submit to your Censure, either to approve or to condemn, you are the Oracle of the Court. Sir, Be not daunted, Love and Fortune join with the Courageous. Sir, I should sin, should I suspect your Virtue, whose glory it is to vanquish all deceits. Sir, Such is my interest in your prosperity, that I will never condemn fortune, whil● she makes you her Darling. Sir, Pardon me, if my presumption hath run beyond the rules of good manners. Sir, Adieu, may pleasures be your attendance, whilst I court your return. Sir, In all your dangers, let my bosom be your religious sanctuary. Sir, Your Bounty hath added so many feathers to my wings, that I am in haste to do you service. Sir, May we from this day date our immortal friendship. Sir, I cannot stoop too low in my observance to your desires. Sir, Your fortunes are your own, but your fate is mine. Sir, You humble yourself in exalting me. Sir, I would beg a favour of you, but my modesty bids me stay. Sir, I am ready to obey, no man can be more proud of your commands. Sir, Let me beg your acceptance of a trifle, only the earnest of my gratitude. Sir, 'Tis your presence that completes our joys. Sir, My blessings are derived from you. Sir, Pursue your pleasures, my life shall be engaged to your interest. Sir, I would thank you for the honour you have done me, but shame and my fearful blushes teach me a farther duty. Sir, I must blushing leave you, having nothing to requite you with but words. Sir, You are kind in this friendly Visit, your welcome, and my thanks are infinite. Sir, Let us embrace as friends, and not as Courtiers. Sir, Sleep is not more welcome to the wearied Traveller, than you are to my House. Sir, My entertainment speaks me most freely welcome. Sir, Let me know your ground for this suspicion. Sir, How have my actions rendered me suspected? Sir, Envy hath no power to hurt your fame. Sir, Malice can never blemish your deserts. Si●, My submission waits upon your pardon. Sir, Nothing is wanting, but my all, your presence. Sir, One that desires to serve you sends this paper to salute your hands. Sir, You bestow too great an Honour on him that is your creature. Sir, Teach me to be grateful, I dare presume my soul would be apt to learn any thing that might tend to your service. Sir, My Thanks and the endeavours of my life are a debt I owe to you. Sir, I shall be your debtor, if you keep me in your mind. Sir, I have one suit, and shall dare to beg no more. Sir, I ●latter my own discretion in nothing more than in loving you. Sir, I am proud when a kind opportunity makes me yours. Sir, Understand your own worth, and then know I can have no power to slight any occasion of serving you. Sir, Your love is the Exchequer of my Wealth. Sir, The rough humours of your age, are unfit to be compelled with the smooth brows of youth. Sir, I beseech you be more sparing of your courtesies, lest the world take you for a prodigal. Sir, Be not so inconstant in your affection, lest in the conclusion you appear too much like the S, to open at the Sunshine of prosperity, and to shrink before the clouds of adversity. Sir, By your singular Character, the Lady seems to be so rarely accomplished, that to her only, I commit the Treasures of my life and fortunes. Sir, My late confidence hath this excuse, that neither Fate nor Fortune delighteth in a Coward. Sir, I will rather hazard my reputation, than be negligent of your Commands. Sir, I will endeavour hereafter to encounter your graces and courtesies, with an unwearied constancy in the roads of Virtue. Sir, Let me be still a sharer in your savours, so shall I grow proud of my own fortunes. Sir, This part of the world shar●s in your prosperity, since you were born to serve your Prince, and to command his people. Si●, My only glory in your service, is to be humble and to obey. Sir, Your Endowments shine beyond the degree of brightness. Sir, Your inventing new Fables, speaks you a good Poet, and me a good subject for your Romantic Fancy. Sir, Your good Fortune and noble Resolutions shine so clear in all employments, that it appears Nature made all things to honour you. Sir, Your Virtues are so well known, you cannot think I ●latter. Sir, I never had those ambitious thoughts to think you could affect so imperfect a creature as myself. Sir, Your Virtues may give a lustre to a Princes Court. Sir, Without you, the State's necessities increase. Sir, I could not allot more moderate limits to my Ambition, than to do you service. Sir, You can never die, succeeding Chronicles will give a life to your Heroic acts. Sir, If you command, I will despise the worst of fate, or bow to the infelicities of cruel fortune. Sir, My appetite is sick, for want of a capacity to digest your Favours. Sir, Whatsoever your designs are, let your reputation continue fair. Sir, He that tramples on your fame, stamps upon the reputation of the whole Court. Sir, Your Vows have so amazed me, I know not how to answer. Sir, In all shapes and under the most fearful aspects that can appear, I am yours. Sir, I will forbear commending you, since all that I can say is dishonourable to your deserts. Sir, The chief objects of my thoughts hath been the glory of your Name. Sir, I prostrate my presumption at your feet, I shall lose happiness if you forsake me. Sir, My very thoughts are yours, you have an interest in them as well as me. Sir, All my acknowledgements come far short of the obligations I owe to your honour. Sir, You mistake my disposition, if you judge I affect praises, Heaven never made me so intemperate. Sir, Should not my friendship appear on any occasion to serve you, it would r●main as a recluse. Sir, The World would be so unpeopled, and Nature would lose her pride, were there no such men as you to maintain their Honours. Sir, Your Virtue can be recorded by none but by yourself. Sir, Though you injure me, my humility shall make me silent. Sir, Though your anger seems to thunder, I can forbear no longer. Sir, Your favours come so fast, they will neither suffer me to be miserable, nor to seem so▪ Sir, Your actions are so virtuous, they carry an authority always with them. Sir, Build not too much on your confidence, lest you tire him whom you have so often injured. Sir, If you allege excuses for so poor a trifle, you make yourself a stranger to my love. Sir, You fetch your conceits too far, they transcend the subject on which you do bestow them. Sir, Your fortunes are fair, but your judgement may be admired. Sir, Your excellent qualities might become the presence of a Prince. Sir, It is by your contents or discontents, that I measure the necessities and fatalities of this world. Sir, Your favours have raised me so high, that I seem to stand upon a precipice, and to discern my fall with the greater terror. Sir, I have long since learned, a Lover's religion is to swear and forswear. Sir, I have a new life in being yours, your goodness gives me a new creation. Sir, Futurity shall crown the Relics of your Honoured Ashes with Palms and Laurels. Sir, I shall not hold myself absent from you, whilst I retain any room in your heart and memory. Sir, You are the heir of a rich inheritance, the evidence of your Virtue entitles you to Heaven. Sir, 'Tis no wonder there is so little goodness in the world, since by the rich stock of Virtue that rests in you, others are become bankrupts! Sir, I owe my good Fortune to your favourable assistance. Sir, My wishes go along with your endeavours, may your desires be happily performed. Sir, I should prove cruel to myself, should I neglect one that nobly loves me. Sir, Forbear your hasty protestations, I do believe your soul's without a blemish, and I glory in my choice. Sir, Leave your superfluous Language, I am none of those Ladies that are enamoured with flattering Acrostics; or to have their names so dis-jointed in an Anagram, 't would puzzle ten Magicians to set them together again. Sir, You have a good smack at Poetry, and I grant you too, Love and Poesy are divine, commonly infused together; yet 'tis ordinarily tied to rules of flattery. Sir, Your Oratory makes me suspect your faith, let it suffice I love you; Nor shall it be long ere Hymen shall seal the Contract. Your very servant, Sir. Compliments towards Ladies, Gentlewomen, Maids, etc. MAdam, It is a vain illusion, if you dream that ever you can gain a reputation by my ruin. Madam, The grace of eloquence is seated on your lips. Madam, Your beauty is the conqueress of man, who is never to be satisfied with the lustre of your eyes. Fair one, your feature and your virtues excel all mortal sense. Madam, When I see you I am in paradise, it is then that my eyes carve me out a feast of Love. Madam, Mortal eyes are never to be satisfied with the wonders of your beauty. Madam, Your complexion clear as is the sky, was never framed but to be adored. Madam, Though my person is removed from you, my purpose is not, for I still retain and will till death, the resolutions of being, Madam, Yours. Madam, I dare be confident you have too much Virtue to study the Art of dissimulation. Madam, Be faithful to him that dares look on death to preserve you, or endure all the despites of fortune to defend your reputation. Madam, Your beauty hath so bereaved me of my fear, that I do account it far more possible to die, than to forget you. Fairest, Take this for a certain truth, I shall rather choose to abhor myself, than to pitch my affectionate resolutions on any object but the excellence of your beauty. Madam, Your Kindred may be cruel in keeping us asunder, but my heart shall never stray from the duty it bears to your Virtues. Madam, I shall ever sacrifice the best of my endeavours to the favour of your affections. Madam, It was not through a conceit of my own deserts, that I have shot at so fair a mark as your Virtuous and innocent fair self, my presumption hath only this excuse, it was directed by Love, and I may well stray, when my guide is blind. Madam, You have vanquished me, I am an eternal prisoner to your beauty. Fairest, Your beauty is Love's Copy to read wonders on. Madam, Your soul is so divinely bright, that what 〈◊〉 otherwise dare not approach to you, lest it sees its ●wn deformity. Madam, You have my prayers at all times, though you go hence, we cannot be absent from one another, ●ince I have placed you in the secret cabinet of my ●eart. Oh Madam, If the thoughts of your departure make me melancholy, the real absence will be a misery worse than death. Fair Maid, It is cruelty to frown at parting, that ●loud bids me expect a storm, but oh what bliss I find in this deceit; you seem angry by your ●rowns, and yet each brow lodges love's deity within it. Lady, I did not intend to have written to you, but my affection hath overswayed my reason, be not still cruel lest you make me so desperate, that I shall be no longer either my own or yours. Madam, Since I want merits to equalise your Virtues, I will for ever mourn for my imperfections. Dear Love, My heart will not suffer my tongue to utter that fatal word farewel, since when I l●ave you, I shake hands with my most perfect object of Beatitude. Madam, If you know not how to love, I know not how to live, unless in torments. Madam, Be pleased to wear this Diamond, which comes with an Ambition to recover a greater lustre by your smiles. Madam, Make me poor, or miserable, use your pleasure with me, so you every me with your love. Dear Lady, Must I needs part with all my felicities at once, Then adieu fair Sun of my soul, and suppose ● am with you, for we cannot part, since our hearts so firmly are united. Fair One, Adieu, Be still more fortunate, and le● cruel, whilst I, though the most unhappy, resolve to continue constant. Madam, Unless you give me yourself, it lies not i● your Art or power to requite that affection wherewith I do adore you. Madam, I never yet offered my affections to any beauty but your own, since than you have the pre-eminence above all others, be favourable to him that gives it, and with it, himself wholly to your disposal. Madam, give me but the favour to suffer me to discover my affections, and then if you shall think fit, silence me to perpetuity. Madam, Remember my respects when you are gone hence, It will be some consolation to me, though I have not the sight of your fair eyes, if I may be assured you have me but sometimes in your thoughts. Fair Lady, My whole estate is summed up in your smiles. Madam, What crime of mine hath raised your angry frowns? Madam, To call you fair, is an Epithet beneath your beauty. Madam, Cupid hath fixed himself in your eyes, and wounds all that come but near him. Blush fair Creature, Blush, since to be coy, is to be cruel, and to be cruel, is to be otherwise than what you seem, a Beauty. Fairest, It is now high time to cherish my desires, let them be no longer prisoners to the shades of silence. Dear Madam, Your love is the perfection of my desires. Fairest, Make me so happy, as to raise my affections to the honour of being yours. Madam, Be wise and dote not so much upon your own beauty, the man with the bald pate can so alter your physiognomy, that in a short time it shall fright you more than a Judge doth a Thief. Madam, 'Tis past your Art to shun me, I will put a Girdle round about the world but I will find you, Madam, You are the Queen of Beauties, your virtues give a commanding power to every mortal. Fair Lady, 'Tis your beauty is the divinity which mortals desire to know and to admire. Lady Fine, Your Tyrant-beauty hath but a short reign, you cannot say 'tis yours, for you cannot dispose of it, nor possess it long. Madam, 'Tis true you are handsome, but remember Faces are like Books, they that study them do best know them, and the truth is, they are liked only as they please the Courteous Reader. Madam, Why will you shun me; let me but view my wealth, otherwise where is my comfort more than if I should think to feed my eyes with looking on a Cask of Jewels in the dark? Dear Lady, I am happy in loving you, but the most unhappy if you deny your love. Dear Madam, Complete my Joys, or the Gods themselves will rob me of you. Madam, I am sick of love, be you my Physician or I shall suddenly expire. Coy Mistress, Once I loved you, but have learned more wit now than to follow such a blind guide as Cupid. I faith Widow, I am in love, and 'tis with you, the untoward boy Cupid has wounded me, 'tis such a busy Urchin no person can be quiet for him, He glides through the Isle of man in a minute, gets into Middlesex; and keeps his Christmas there till he's fired out, with heat and flames. Scornful Girl, Can you imagine I ever did intend to dote, especially on that small stock of beauty of yours, which serves only to convince me, you are not extremely ugly. Exc●llent Beauty, Painters, Poets, nor Players were ever guilty of half so many cruelties, as you (by the darts of your eyes) do exercise on those that admire you most. Dear Madam, When I am absent from you, I am sick of love, but every visit gives somewhat of consolation to my passion. Lady, I am wholly yours, it is your beauty that hath taken me from myself. Madam, Your Virtues are my meditations; you and my thoughts are never absent. Madam, you are the admiration of the world, like a fair picture you draw all men's eyes to see and wonder. Fair Creature, You are that rich Cabinet wherein Nature hath locked up all her rarities. Madam, So to usurp an Authority, is according to neither Law nor Reason. Fair one, This kiss from your inspiring hand, will add to my former happiness. Madam, This Favour, and you Crown your Servant. Madam, Your Beauty hath the Art to teach Christians to turn Idolaters. Madam, Be merciful or I am miserable, your eyes are as the Ambassadors of life or death. Divine Lady, Could I be one of those wise men that rule the stars, you might then conclude, I might be able to govern my own affections. Madam, If there be a Heaven to reward virtues, your name will be recorded in the Register of Saints. Madam, Your frowns are the emblems of death, but your smiles give me a second being. Madam, To be absent from your service is a Torment, since every of your Commands afford me a new Creation. Madam, I have passed my vows, to confirm them, I give you my heart and hand, to continue yours till death. Madam, Confirm me in your favour with a smile. Fair One, I'll pay the last tribute of my lips to your fair hands. Madam, Your heart is like pebble, smooth, but stoney. Madam, Continue constant, and be assured, I will rather lose my life, than part with my resolutions of serving you. Madam, Since you are born into the world to be admired, you should not eclipse yourself from him that can live no longer than he serves you. Most Divine Lady, I could live an Age upon those Lips. Madam, I am real, my love is white as Truth, and innocent as Virtue. Oh Madam, Be like yourself, fair and not resembling Narcissus, benighted with the clouds of scorn. Madam, May heaven smile upon you, farewel and prosper. Madam, You are all sweetness, and I the admirer of your Vertu●s, Oh let me ●ly into your bosom. Madam, Be not cruel but save that creature whose life depends on you, who●● every power owns not himself but you. Madam, You are a Deity to whom my heart presents its devotion. Madam, My soul is in a ●lame, and remains a Sacrifice till you shall please to accept it. Madam, May I become the scorn of time, when I prove so monstrous as to give you the least occasion to repent your love. Madam, Oh let me confirm my happiness upon your Lip, and study there by some new way of number, to multiply my bliss. Madam, The treasuries of Grace and Nature were quite exhausted, to accomplish your perfections. Madam, My language is as my Intentions, plain and real, he that makes use of golden words, does it only to gild over the corruptions of his soul. Dear Madam, I am ravished with the well-tuned Harmony of your pleasant voice. Lady, I return to you all your Vows, be free, as the Air you breath in. Madam, Can you be so unjust as to deem my language feigned? I will sooner forget to eat, than to honour you. Madam, Far be it from me, to speak a language should displease your ear. Farewell incomparable Mistress. Madam, Had I a hundred hearts I should want room to entertain your love. Madam, Be assured I will either enjoy you, or die a Martyr in your quarrel. Madam, for your sweet sake my meditations are loaded with Metaphors; I am valiant, witty, and will be any thing to be yours. Mistress, To be plain with you, I love you, but I want utterance, and that is a good sign. Sweet bit of beauty, the delight of mine own soul I am come to visit thee, and have brought with me a hundred thousand salutations. Most resplendent Lady, I am full of the fruits of love, and should be proud if you would be pleased to participate. Dear Mor●el of Modesty, How I love you, and so sincerely, that I protest to make you Mistress of my thoughts, Lady of my returns, and commit all my Movables into your hands, and upon the same I give you an earnest kiss in the high road to Matrimony. My Dear Girl, Thou hast catcht me, my heart thou hast had before, now here's my hand. Fair One, Seal my pardon for my former rudeness, and may I forget my love if I lose my civility hereafter. Madam, I owe all that I have to your Beauty, it is the sole Commandress of my thoughts. Dear Madam, The breath of new blown Roses is not more sweet than yours, I could kiss thee, till I engender on thy lips. Madam, By your fair self, I love you with as much true zeal as Anchorites do their prayers. Dear Mistress, I am in paradise when I but dream of your perfections. Fair Lady, A thousand Cupids, call me to kiss your hands. Fairest, By the Law of Love and Arms, I may demand a kiss. Madam, You are the fairest Nature ever did design for wonder. Madam, The perfume of your sweet breath informs me your Mother fed on Roses when she bred you. Madam, I shall be more grateful, than to slight those benefits you shower upon me. Fair One, You have taught me to despise myself. I can do nothing but admire your Virtues. If I am void of Reason, Fairest creature, suffer Love to be my Advocate, that will not allow of limits. Mistress, Be not angry if I tell you, my love when once abused, may turn into a fury. Without doubt Madam, if the Gods, as Poet's fancy, created Beauty it was their Masterpiece, since they themselves are unable to oppose that force which they ordained. Madam, It is impossible any one should see your beauty and not become a captive. Madam, I shall forbear to talk of Beauty, or of Virtue, unless you are present. Madam, I should be ignorant of what is rare, did not your Virtues instruct my understanding. Madam, They that diminish your worth or Beauty, dare rob all that is good, and sin against truth itself. Madam, It was the spring of your Beauty, that first raised in me those noble desires, which soon after bursted into streams. Dear Madam, Thus I embrace thee as my Wealth and Honor. Fairest, Your absence will be death to him that loves you above all that can be dear or precious; should Armies keep us distant, I would charge through a Grove of Pikes, and encounter with Death himself, but I would gain you. Madam, Your features bound me in fetetrs as soon as first I saw them, and the excellent endowments of your mind hath since retained me not only your prisoner, but your servant. Madam, You are the Epitome of Nature, in whom is comprised all that favours of what is sweet or glorious. Madam, give me leave to call you mine, and one day the effect shall be your own. Dear Madam, spoke once more, Angels will listen to the Music of your Voice. Madam, you have laid a charm upon my soul, my senses are captivated by the incomparable Harmony of your hand and voice. Madam, The thankful Lute shows how much it does rejoice to be graced with the touch of your fingers. Madam, It is the glory of great minds, to forgive great faults, and upon the acknowledgement of my error, you cannot find an object more deserving your compassion. Madam, May your own Virtues attend you ever, that you may continue as faithful to me, as I esteem you dear. Madam, The chiefest grief I bear with me from this place, is the sense of leaving my heart where I cannot stay myself. Madam, I have a heart, but it is worn in your breast. Dear Madam, Conceal not your eyes from me, they are the two bright stars by which the Bark of my affections steer's to the wished for shore of my felicity. Madam, I court the love of all, but yours I would purchase with my life. Madam, Continue to be good, and hold him still ●n your memory, whose only felicity it is to hope to be ●nshrined in so fair a monument. Madam, I have been like a lump of Ice, till of late ●he heat of your favours, revived my besotted spirit's, but the darts of your piercing eyes have so altered the whole frame of man in me, that I am become ● perfect flame, which nothing can quench but the pleasant streams of your love. Madam, The Magnetic stone, observes not the ●ummons of the North star, with more activity, than do your commands. Madam, When I want a will to continue yours, may I no longer be my own. Madam, You are already the most accomplished Lady in the world, may Heaven complete its bount in making you as happy as you are fair. Madam, This kiss to your fair hand. Madam, Be assured my love and loyalty shall be in separable, while I have life to retain any affection's fo● your beauty. Fairest Virgin, Such is my zeal for your divine ver●tues, that though it is my ambition to live and lov● you, yet should an opportunity be offered, the con●stancy of my dying heart should manifest how muc● I am yours in death. Madam, I will be steadfast as inviolated faith, im●moveable as a rock; and till death will glory in m● constancy as the chiefest Jewel of my life. Madam, My desires lie captived at your feet; bu● one glance from your sparkling eyes, will enliv● them again, and add a fresh Vigour to your languishing prostrate. Dear Madam, Desire but my content, let me b● have your wishes, and I will be in a continual thirst 〈◊〉 do you service. Madam, My inclination binds me as much to plea●● you, as my duty does to serve. Madam, 'Tis my misfortune to be but half mad● Heaven hath given me desires, but not deserts. Madam, I should be simple and unworthy, shou●● I imagine this Present worthy your acceptance, sin●● what we think are rarities are not truly so, unless 〈◊〉 the character of your esteem. Madam, I have sent you but a small token, choo●●ing to be thought rather ignorant than ungrateful. Madam, To abide with you, is to inhabit with 〈◊〉 Graces, since nature hath designed you for the sto●● house of all her most excellent rarities. Madam, Imagine me to be yours, and fear not 〈◊〉 ere long the effects shall answer your expectations. Dear Lady, Speak again, Angels will be mute and listen to your voice. Madam, I am silenced with your breath, each word of yours lays a Charm upon my soul. Madam, You are favourable in this that you will suffer me to make my own Apology. Madam, You are Mistress of most rare perfections, such as command the world to express abundance of Duty, both by admiration and obedience. Madam, In those smiling dimples, Cupid hath pitched his Tents. Madam, You are all Virtue, from your sweet lip the morning gathers blushes. Letters for all Occasions. 1. A Tender of Service to the Kings most excellent Majesty. May it please your Majesty, I Am not ignorant of the great presumption, wherewith at this time I give a trouble to your Majesty; Nor can my deserts give me any hopes that the least ●eam of your love should shine on any thing that in ●e can be thought a merit, since I have learned, you ●ay command in all things, and it is contrary to the ●uty I owe to your excellent Majesty to disobey in any. ●ut that your Majesty may know, you have a Subject ●hat durst be Loyal even in disloyal times, I have now attempted to arrive at the height of my felicities, which is not only to be honest, but to be known to be Your Majesty's most humble servant and obedient subject. 2. A Tender of service to the Queens most excellent Majesty. May it please your Majesty, THough I am a stranger to your Majesty, yet since I bear the glorious title of a Loyal Subject, I have hence assurance that your Majesty will vouchsafe to give this boldness a favourable aspect, for indeed I should doubt my own fidelity to my Royal Sovereign, should not your Majesty countenance my duty with an acceptance of my service; let me now only beg the trouble of a pardon, and I shall for ever study as in duty bound, to manifest myself Your Majesty's Loyal Subject, and most humble Servant. 3. Respects from an Honourable Lady, to the Queen. Madam, IF my passion had not overruled my reason, I would certainly have kept my Letters from becoming so mean an object for your sacred eyes, till some commandment of your own had put them upon occasion to give them attendance, but the care I have to preserve myself in the Honour of your memory, and favour, will not suffer me to continue any longer silent; I therefore most humbly pray your Majesty, to continue yourself in assurance even from hence▪ that my devotions are ever aspiring to your Service; which yet I should half suspect to be less perfect, if my inclinations might not own as great a part of that ambition, as my obligations, but the one accompanying the other, will establish me for ever, in an unchangeabl● resolution of being, Madam, Your Majesty's most humble Servant. 4. A person of Quality to a worthy Lady, the one a Protestant, the other a Roman Catholic. Madam, THough a sinner of one Religion, I am come to pay my vows to a Saint of another, for I approach to your presence with as profound a reverence as I am capable of bearing to a creature, when your Ladyship is pleased to pardon the presumption of your servants, you excel in goodness; but when withal you descend so low as to admit of their poor desires, for real services, you exceed yourself; I have but little to say, but my heart would easily tell me of enough to do, if my power to serve you were correspondent to my will, yet howsoever I shall be daily praying that you may be as happy as the world knows you to be worthy; and especially that the expense of so ignorant a life as mine, may one day serve for some straw or stick, towards the erecting of that great building; Till than I am prostrate at your feet, and with a fervent zeal shall continue, Madam, the Adorer of your Virtues, etc. 5. One Lady to another, with Compliments of extreme kindness. Madam, WHen neither the place nor the person can make a worthy oblation, that devotion were better mannered which should sacrifice to your memory upon the Altar of Silence; But yet so much desire I to live in yours, as that I rather choose to appear in this kind to your trouble, than to suffer any thing like forgetfulness, to seem to entomb those affections of mine to your service; which want not Life, howsoever they are deprived of Lustre, wherewith to crown the estimation which your worth hath begotten in my soul, and will certainly inhabit there, while there is any sense in Madam, the most affectionate of all your servants. 6. A Letter of kindness from one friend to another. Sir, YOu may imagine I dream or dote, otherwise I should not speak thus loud, nor thus far off, nor make so long a reach to you still, by the arms of my ill written lines; But I thought once you were near hand, and coming to visit me, when soon after I understood you designed yourself for other ends, which yet put me into such a Valiant choler, as some of them know who were nearest to me, and must bear with my humours; lest I should want them I might be angry with myself; for I can do nothing but in earnest, though that earnest, proves commonly as true a nothing, as if I were in jest; pray let me have an account of your health, and of those affairs wherein you may guests my love may say I am concerned, for be assured you shall never be owner of any care, whereof I will not have a part, either by taking; if you will give it; or else by stealing it, if you will not give it, but will needs be the first to offend justice so far, as to hide it from Your most real, real friend, etc. 7. From one Friend to another. Sir, THe express of your goodness hath raised me to a degree of happiness, beyond even mine own power of wishing, and after such height of good fortune, this only regret can take hold of me, that you did impose something upon me as disagreeable, as ●his was complying with the very utmost of my ambitious desires, that so I might thereby have had the satisfaction of giving you an experience, that I shall ever have an infinite joy in performing any Action, which by the difficulty thereof, may the better serve to express my obedience to your commands, as become●, Sir, Your most humble servant. 8. A Lady to a Gentleman, concerning his sick Mistress. Sir, I Was too sensible of those troubles which I left with you, not to inquire whether you are eased of part of them, or not; And therefore I beseech you, send me word how the Noble sick Lady doth, whose health I infinitely wish; both for your sake and mine own: Besides that, even the world is concerned, that so excellent a creature, who is so hardly found, may not be so quickly lost. Favor me in this particular, and the Kindness shall make me, Sir, Your obliged servant. 9 The Gentleman's Answer, to a Lady concerning his sick Mistress. Madam, I Am infinitely engaged to you for the sense you have of my troubles, and the love you bear to the Life of my Life; she is yet extreme ill, and yet so good, that I fear Heaven will deprive us of her Virtuous Society. I am so highly sensible of not only yours and my own, but of the concerns of all that know her, that if there be not health enough in the world for us all, may heaven give her a liberal portion of it, though it be abated out of mine; so much I owe to her virtues, and not a little to yourself, for your care of her, and Madam, The humblest of your servants. 10. The Lovers first Address to his Lady. Madam, I Am indebted to my Friends for the knowledge of your Virtues, and to yourself for the Acknowledgements you are pleased to exercise in your remembrance of me; a person who hath nothing to make him considerable, but what your favourable Opinion thinks fit to allow. And the custom whereby I am made over to misfortune, forbids me the hopes of conceiving that ever I can be so happy as to be admitted into the number of your Servants; which is infinitely desired by, Dear Madam, The Admirer of your Worth, etc. 11. The Lovers Complimental Letter to his Mistress. Incomparable Lady, I Was happy in receiving a Command from you, and shall be proud in my performance, since it is the glory of Kings and Princes to be concerned in your Service; Let but one accent fall from your divine lips, and the very winds are ready to convey it, the melody of your warbling Voice can charm the Siren to a silence, and compel the Crocodile to spare his dissembling sorrows. Dear Madam, the sight of your beauty is sufficient to create fresh blood in withered reins of age, and give a new life to expiring mortals: If you are sad, Angels themselves are so. Pardon my prolixity, Divine Lady, I am in a Labyrinth greater than the Cave that enclosed the Cretan Minotaur; 'Tis easier to eat fire and not be burnt, or to cut Diamonds with Glass, than to speak your real Praise; O then how happy am I in your love! That love that gives Speech to a dumb man, that love that makes Idiots turn Orators, and inspires the Age with such admirable Fancies, that all people become Poets, only out of a duty to your Deserts, that they celebrate your Praises, which is a Task too great for them, as it is for, Excellent Lady, Your sincere Admirer. 12. The Ladies Return to her servants Lines. Kind Sir, WHen I think of you, I am in a maze, insomuch that I suppose you to be every thing that is good; Majesty is placed on your brow, your Tongue for its eloquence may be Music for the Gods, your looks are so pleasant and so airy, that Cupid appears there in in his best grace; and when you walk, the earth doth humbly seem to shrink, as being sensible of the weight it bears. But hold, my passion runs beyond the bounds of modesty, Discretion now persuades to give the pre-eminence to Pallas, not to Cupid, you were pleased to try a Conclusion on my feminine Capacity, and you may believe (upon necessity) I can reverberate accordingly. But, Dear Sir, though I must acknowledge my affection is of a large extent, yet (since I have conversed with the Poets) I cannot but admire at the prodigiousness of your Sex in former times; should I believe all to be gold that glisters, I might see my error as well as others have done before; however Sir, I dare not apprehend you to be otherwise than Noble, a little more experience may wipe off all my womanish suspicion, for such is my high esteem of your worth already, that I want but little of saying how much I am Yours. 13. A Ladies forewarning her Friend of another Lady's Society. Sir, PErhaps you may pretend that this procedure of your● is only to awaken me, for the better trial of my faith and constancy; but believe me, it is not safe to jest with edged tools, or to play with fire; Nor is it any ways commendable in you, to associate yourself with the wanton Lady, I need not name her, since you know to whom that Epithet belongs. 'Tis true, she is reported to be handsome, there is then the more danger, and wiser men than you have been ensnared with the bewitched Allurements of a strange woman: To be merry with a Lady, or to converse and walk, and use language tending to Courtship, with a Lass that delights to hear herself commended, is frequent with men, and may be born with, when managed with discretion, but to stake your reputation upon so slender an account as to offer Courtship to that same piece of Vanity, argues much fondness, little wit, and less constancy: Let me therefore earnestly desire you, for the sake of your own fair credit, to forbear these extravagancies, that you may rid me of that suspicion which as yet lies heavy upon my heart, I shall then retain the same opinion of you which I have hitherto had, that you are a man master of yourself, and too true a Lover to admit of any other sharers in your affections but myself, since our late Contract, and the Truth of a Gentleman, have laid such a lawful Injunction upon you. Pray, if you are minded to cure my distracted thoughts, use some sudden means, lest my distemper grow too violent for a remedy, till than I shall (not rest but) remain Yours, even in impatience. 14. Our Lady's Advice to another, near Marriage. Good Soul, IT is an unruly Age we live in, and my love hath occasioned this trouble to you: I understand there is a Gentleman Mr. A.B. is extremely prodigal of his pretences to you, in the way of Love and Marriage: my Caution is only this, that you have an eye to your own welfare, build not upon empty promises, for if you once suffer him to please his humour before he is firmly yours, you will certainly forfeit your own Honour. Consider, as he is above you in purse, and the portions of this life, (Beauty only excepted, for of that Nature hath given you a bountiful proportion) whether his intentions are real or feigned, make him your own, and then if you fall in two, (you may understand the phrase, by observing the occasion) he will be bound by the Laws of God and Nature, to bear a part with you in whatsoever happens. The truth is, I had not taken upon me to give you this admonition, did not report speak loudly of his passion for you, and of his conditional promises to be yours hereafter, if you consent to be his first: Such a love hath subtle limits, and more Meanders than a harmless maid can easily discover. It is reported too, that you incline somewhat to believe him, and are apt to think he means nothing but what is honourable, yet know this from one more experienced in things of this nature than you are, that if he should perform his Vows to you after he hath feasted his appetite, yet such a Breach in your reputation, will continually admit of strange sallies, checks, and opprobrious terms, as Strumpet, Slut, Light Housewife, etc. and what did you afford me, that another man might not have had? and when the glass is once broken, it is not easily cemented: Dear Soul, keep heaven about you, and let good thoughts guard your innocency, so shall your Honour be unspotted, and your life happy; which is the earnest desire of Your cordial friend and servant, etc. 15. A Lover to his false Mistress. Slain to thy Sex, HAth modesty now forsook thee, that thou durst abuse that affection, that adored thee? did I manifest myself a dotard to gain thy love, and having had a multitude of promises from thee, of constancy and firm affection, darest thee now to admit of another's flame? Now thou seemest more deformed than ever I thought thee fair, so ugly a Monster is Ingratitude. By this I do perceive thou didst enjoin me to smother our affections, only that thy new servant might not have any occasion to be jealous; I will hate thee for thine own sake, and him, for robbing me, although but a trifle; And that my revenge may soar high enough to reach thy Perjury, I will begin with him, and then proclaim thy lenity, and how thou hast disserted me, after a long League of Friendship, after thou hadst passed thy Vows to be none but mine, and hast admitted a stranger to thy bosom: Was it for this that I delighted daily to be praising thee? How did I spend my time in making Encomiums upon thy Beauty, Virtues, and thy Person that I once so much admired? I will now study to contradict my own fond▪ opinion, and so decipher thee, that thou shalt seem as odious to the world, as thou dost to me, else let Fate do so, and more to Base Wretch, Thine once, but now his own. 16. On sending a Book. Madam, THat you may perceive I do not forget you, let this poor Present inform you; it is the Famous Romance, Entitled, Pharamont, and written by the Author of Cassandra and Cleopatra were it not a Piece of great worth, I should not have thought it fit for your perusal; However were it otherwise, I dare assure myself it would not be unwelcome, since to question that, were to doubt of your good will to Madam, Your faithful servant. 17. A Lady to her discourteous Lover. Sir, THere was a time, and that within your own memory, that you were pleased to flatter me with the glorious Titles of Divine Mistress, Most Accomplished Lady, and what not? Yet to manifest the frailty of all these Expressions, and how little you meant what you so often reiterated, you were lately pleased to give me a flat denial to my poor request. Certainly Sir, I should have been commanded by you in concerns of higher moment, and not only so, but that your slighting of me may be more apparent, you have not bestowed your Visits as you use to do: If I have given you any occasion thus to estrange yourself, I should not think you so blame-worthy as at present I take you to be; But that you may see I am not quite void neither of good nature, nor affection, I must needs confess I do somewhat doubt my own deserts, as well as your disposition, and am resolved to continue, till you shall totally renounce me, Wholly yours. 18. A Brother, on the occasion of his Brothers not writing. Dear Brother, THough your occasion enforce you to turn Tenant to your own time, yet I had thoughts that such a trifle as myself, might be admitted into your memory, at some interval or other. It is now four or five Letters you are indebted to me for, however I confess myself so much engaged to you on other account, that I fear you would think you 〈◊〉 too great a loser, should we but qui● score● Dear Brother, cast an eye upon your Books, 〈◊〉 perhaps I appear amongst your Debtors, you will make more of me than a blank, or cipher; which that you may do, I will still bear the badge of your obligations, and when I appear false, let me be cast aside as none of your Coin, but as a Counterfeit▪ in the mean time, Sir, call me what you please, so you pardon the Errors of this trouble, which I concluded might be more fitly offered, than my acknowledgements should be concealed; but I shall sin no further against your patience, only believe me to be, as formerly, Your affectionate Brother to command. 19 A Gentlemen to a Lady, in his Friend's behalf. Madam, THrough an ardent desire to become your debtor, I have attempted to crave a favour of you in behalf of a Friend, whose deserts when once known, will speak both his thanks and commendations; I am advertised by him that there is a Lady, to whose young Beauty you have no small relation, and he having a passion for her, knows not how to gain the favourable opportunity to kiss her hands; 'Tis therefore my request, that you remember me when you see him, and if you can further his resolutions, be assured the acknowledgement shall be great, as your civility, and with all observance paid by, Madam, Your real Friend and Servant. 20. Another to the same purpose. Madam, PArdon me if I tell you, you cannot be just, if you spare your civilities to me, since my affection is such to your service, that I shall ever esteem it the glory of my life, to be employed by your commands; since therefore necessity doth compel you, receive this Gentleman as my Friend, that I may honour your merits, and endeavour to get some for myself, that I may be the more capable of performing those duties which shall become due from, Madam, Your very Servant, etc. 21. A Letter of Compliments from one Friend to another. Sir, YOu have so well studied the Art how to oblige, and withal how to express your favours, that for my part I am ignorant how to proclaim either my thanks or services without a blush, for putting so harmless a creature in so ill a habit; Nor indeed shall I ever be able to satisfy myself therein, unless I could tell, with a safe conscience, how to play the thief, and steal your words and actions from yourself. Let me now only adventure to tell you, that it is a kind of tyranny in you, to make me so much your servant by force, who was walking so fast that way, upon the feet of mine own free will. We have here nothing not● worthy, but that we all live so fairly in friendship, as if faction were a stranger to our train; As for myself, if I were any thing, the love I bear you would multiply it, and the favours which I receive by you, would dignify it; And howsoever, the honour of your Commands, if I may hope for them, will give me such a being, as without immodesty I will boast of to the universe; Nor shall any soul be found more faithful to any one's commands, than mine to Yours. 22. An Answer to the former Letter. Sir, I Have been in your debt too long for your last Letter, the words whereof were delivered by your own choice hands, as so many fair pictures drawn by an experienced Artist, only let me tell you, I can discover a little daubing here and there, but as you are my friend, I dare not doubt your ingenuity. Indeed I do not think it possible for entire affection to be more generously expressed, I can but return thanks to you, or rather indeed such an answer, as may better consist of thoughts than words. I must crave your pardon, now I am compelled to let you know I have scarce time enough allowed me to say how much I am, Sir, Your very faithful Servant. 23. The lover to his deliberating Mistress. My only joy, WHy should strange fancies, and indigested huniours create a breach in that affection which hath been so often, and so firmly knit between you and I? If I have offered any occasion for your dislike, let me be unpardonable; but if you will give me slights and neglects for my real love, it is you must be unjust: for shame let not any dispute be raised now, just now that we are travelling in the way to our felicity. From whence come these suggestions of yours, that things will look hereafter with a worse face, and that you fear your condition will have an ill change? Do you hold intelligence with heaven? Or can you divine, or dive into the hidden mysteries, or secret cabinet of a Deity? Pray recollect your thoughts, and remember what affectionate promises, nay firm protestations, did not long since pass between us, then, when we called the little Birds, and the listening silent Streams to be witnesses to our Oaths: Remember those silver drops which I so often courted to catch as they then glided from your eyes; if all this shall seem as music too harsh for your ears, I must take the liberty to exclaim: But I dare not show so much ●igour towards you, you whom I so much love and honour, I will rather accuse my own merits, or my ●ortune, since my only happiness is taking wing, and the Life of my Life thinks me unworthy to be beloved; However, my resolution is fixed, do you study to be unkind, my heart shall nevertheless continue either Your Servant, Or, your Sacrifice. 24. Civil Compliments from one Friend to another. Sir, TO be Civil is to be Noble, and both these Qualities excel in you, it is therefore needless for me to give you thanks, or acknowledgements for your favours to me, since your generosity will never make me a debtor, for what you paid to your own inclination and virtue: I received your Letter in such a time of solitude, that my heart bade it most freely welcome; for your lines did not only pleasure me, but engage me, insomuch that I am hugely desirous to have more such Visitants, after they have taken leave of only your hand; for by those marks I shall be able to give a shrewd guess at your condition, whether in health or not: Since than it will be such a satisfaction to me to hear from you, I beg of you to engage me once more, that I may use my endeavours to contribute somewhat to your content, for it is the chiefest aspiring hopes of, Sir, Your eternal Friend. 25. A Gentlemen to his Lady, whom he fears would make a New Choice. Dear Soul, WHat Melody can be sweeter Music, than the simpathizing of our Loves, I am not able to divine, and am apt to believe the point may puzzle your wit, although it be a pregnant one. Then since (at least) I esteem myself in Paradise whilst I am in your favour, wherefore, Oh wherefore doth report whisper to me, that you (whom I ever took to be firm as truth) should now begin to waver in your thoughts to me? Dear Heart, let me not be forgotten in a moment, let not me whom your Beauty and your Virtues have ravished with admiration, become so vainly expensive of my time, as to lose that Jewel, dear to me as my life. I will not, nor dare I believe you can be so unkind, but shall hereafter tell the erring world you are all goodness, and that there are those Ladies even in this our age, that will not forget their Vows, and know how to be constant in the best, or worst of times, as well as, Most worthy Lady, Yours, in the bonds of true affection. 26. A rich old Gentleman, to a fair young Virgin. Young Lady, LEt not my years be an obstacle to your love, since I have those gifts of fortune, that will not only maintain our affections, and keep the fire of love in a continual flame, but will also afford you all those Ornaments which Art hath designed for the adorning such tender and beautiful Buds of Nature: Besides, though I come not to you with a powdered Lock, or in the mode of a young Gallant, yet know my Girl, my zeal for you can be as hot, and as sincere, as the sprucest Pretenders in the world: and if age doth make me seem in your apprehension, as a withering tree, yet I have Gold will keep its colour, and it is that which in this world is ones best friend. Pray have me in your thoughts, and I shall watch for an opportune season, wherein I may make myself farther known to be, Fairest Lady, Your most affectionate Servant. The Answer. 27. A beautiful young Virgin, to a decrepit, rich, old Gentleman. Grave Sir, YOu are too far distant from me in years, to be admitted into my affections, since you are arrived to the pitch of Dotage, and I yet ignorant of what is Love; However, I must do you so much justice as to commend your discretion, for fishing with a Golden Bait; for believe me, next to Beauty, I cannot imagine any thing to be more taking among mortals, than the glorious name of Wealth: I could be content to keep my Coaches, my Pages, Lackeys, and Maids, but I confess I could never endure the society of a bald pate; How can you think, Reverend Sir, that I should love you, when by the temptations which you offer, you clearly manifest your opinion, that if I should marry, it must be to your Gold, rather than to you: I confess a Silver Mine is a pretty toy for a thing of my years to dote on, but I have a childish humour peculiar to myself▪ that is, never to humble my affections so, as that they suffer Treasure, as a Loadstone, to draw them to its beck. 'Tis true, wealth will be welcome to me, to maintain my Train, but the Person of that more lovely creature, Man, will ever be more welcome to a Maid's Embraces. Can you think me so weak, as to exchange the Flower of my Youth, for a bundle of Snow, or rotten Dirt? No Sir, Gold with a man is good, admirably good, but it is Man that in the School of Love, passes for the principal Verb; for my own part, rather than join myself to a mere wedge of Gold, I shall choose to accept of a bundle of Rags, so they have any affinity to a Man. Old men are grey, Old men are grey, I'm a lusty bonny young Lass, And I prithee Old man away. By this time, good old man, you know my mind; be wise, and wed yourself to heaven, and I shall thank you, if in your death, you remember to bequeathe your Gold to Your young Adviser. 28. A Letter of Courtesy from Friend to Friend. Sir, I Have no kindness for this Letter, for I heartily wish it lost, that you may find me before it perform the service it was sent for: But you may perceive by its contents (for they are short) that I hope it will not be long ere you make me happy in your company. I am the more easily persuaded it will be suddenly, since I am informed you are about the Equinoctial of your return to Town, and my earnest desire to see you, may convince you that I hold you to be as it were a Sun in my Hemisphere. My occasions compel me to forsake my usual road of being tedious, and must conclude with that real truth of being, Sir, Yours undivided, though at distance. 29. One Gentlewoman to another in behalf of a Friend. Sir, ERe I had so much good fortune, as to thank you for your former kindnesses, I am opportuned by an honest friend to recommend him to your favour; He hath an humble suit to you, and as he assures me, a very just one, and hath omitted other opportunities, only that it might pass your hands. Sir, if you have any good will left for me, pray bestow part of it on him, and let the rest plead my excuse for this fresh presumption, which if you please to interpret as a desire I have to serve you, you will judge aright of Your debtor, and humble servant. 30. The forsaken Maid, to her treacherous Friend. Most unkind Man, IT is my exceeding wonder that you should be one, to make up the number of those that dare to be wicked; Now do I see my folly, when I hugged you in my bosom, and believed those Oaths and Protestations, which you have most villainously broke: Now can I call to mind the advice my experienced friends gave me, never to trust to the pretensious of your Sex; Oh! can you see me on my knees, with wet and swollen eyes, and yet not learn to love me, nor hate yourself! Or have you no regard to that innocent lamb, as yet but in my womb, which though of a small Volumn, yet it is but yourself in a lesser Frame: if you believe, or but think it is not yours, let me be ripped up, and then you will perceive each member to bear the true image of your own, and your name is likewise near it, for since you told me it should be called, I wrote it in my very heart. I have nothing more to say, but only to desire you to be so true to yourself and me, as to remember and perform your Vow; if not, be so merciful as to rid me of a loathsome life, for if you do neither, my disgrace will be public, and rather than live your Strumpet, I should esteem it a greater happiness (since my misfortunes have brought me to the misery) to die Your Sacrifice. 31. The Lady to her importunate Lover. Sir, SInce you are resolved to be troublesome, I shall likewise resolve to be impatient; let me not be any more perplexed with your impertinent pretences, or assure yourself, if my advice be slighted; and you continue as vain as formerly, I have so much interest in those that have worth and honour, as to engage them to correct your insolency, and that not with Fist or Cane, but Weapons less vulgar, and more dangerous, therefore be advised before it be too late, since I am designed for another, and not likely however to be Yours. The Answer. 32. The Lover to his Threatening Lady. Worthy Lady, CAn you think I can live, and want your love? Or can you imagine I can fear Death itself, when I am inspired by the thoughts of you? I will not be so uncivil as to tax you with cruelty, or say your heart is made of Adamant, but be assured who ever dares be so vainly proud as to assault me, I have a Sword sharp as his, and a Pistol that barks as loud as his; but if I chance to fall in so fair a Quarrel, my Soul is so entirely fixed to your virtues, that if any chance afterward to injure you, or defile your honour, it will appear in your defence, for I have made it my resolution to be, Dear Madam, Yours living▪ or in death. 33. A Letter of Enquiry, from friend to friend. My good Friend, I Am designed now to be troublesome to you, but it is only that I may be satisfied in two points, first I am to tell you, I live as a thing without rest or patience, and shall continue so, till I hear how you escaped in the late accident; for I hold myself concerned in all your dangers, and shall readily enlarge mine, so I may contract yours. But if I may suppose (as well as hope) that you are safe, the next happiness that my ambition aims at, is your society; which if I can obtain, I may perhaps recover my understanding, and shall thereby be the more enabled to render all acknowledgements due from Your Friend, so love and serve you. 34. Comfortable Advice to a Friend on the death of a Son, or other near Relation. Dear Sir, I Am hugely sensible of your great loss, and as great grief, and that is it that hath given wing to my affections, thus to advise you, as you are a Christian, not to afflict yourself too much, since it was the pleasure of Almighty God to summon his servant to himself, cast yourself into the arms of his Mercy, and he will certainly give you a full measure of Comfort; for it is that is the Fountain of Consolation, nor doth any thing in this poor world happen by chance, but according to his divine Pleasure and Counsel, sin only excepted; nor is any thing accidental to him, though they seem so to us, for his wisdom hath ordained all things from all eternity: And if a little Sparrow, or a hair of our Head have a share in his Providence, consider then, how such an infinite Power, which is vested with such an infinite wisdom and goodness, can possibly let any thing arrive to any such creature, as for whom he died, which shall not be absolutely good and necessary for him. For Jesus sake, Sir, be yourself, or rather petition to him, that in this urgent occasion you may be more than so: God make, and keep you ever happy, or make you less miserable than I fear you are now making yourself. This is, and shall be the desires and prayer of, Sir, Your cordial wellwisher, and very humble servant. 35. A Tender of Service to a Mistress. Divine Lady, YOu are the first to whom I ever became bound in the bonds of Love, and hold it as well my duty as my interest, no longer to conceal how much I honour and admire you. I had thoughts, Madam, divers times to acquaint you herewith before, since it hath been my great happiness to be admitted into your fair presence, but durst not take the confidence till now; if my affections have been too powerful for my discretion, and so compelled me to commit an error, I doubt not your goodness will excuse it, since it was purely out of a sincere zeal to do you service; nor could I dissemble my ambition any longer. Let it suffice, Dear Lady, that I am now a prisoner to your Beauty, and from the Bar of Love do make it my suit, that you please to honour me with a favourable answer to these Lines, that you may enable me to make a happy Reply, or otherwise such a one as may be too late esteemed unhappy, as bearing the doleful tidings of his fate, that vows to be Yours, though in death. The Answer. 36. A disdainful Lady to her Servant. Sir, I Received your amorous Epistle, and cannot, as I am a Woman, and a Christian, but have so much charity as to pity, though I cannot love you, since it is a duty I confess I conceive to be due to all persons either Sick or Lunatic: but I confess my nature is of another constitution, for you are the first, to my remembrance, that I ever hated, which now at length I thought good to let you know, because indeed I do not apprehend how you deserve my dissimulation; Let it suffice, I shall study to revenge this insolency, but yet so, as not to honour you with the knowledge of how, or wherein: And as for the felicity which you think you have, in being able to make a Reply, either happy or unhappy, you may choose whether it shall be made, or not: but if it comes to my hands, it shall then be at my choice, whether to be burned, or read, for the sake of a little laughter. But my advice is, that you spare the pains, for it will be but lost labour upon Your Friend, if you will be your own. 37. A sick Lady to a Gentleman. Sir, THough I want strength to express myself so amply as I would, yet this may serve to let you ●ee I do not forget you, though I am indisposed to ●hink of any: but there is no thanks due from you for this civility, since I do it for my own advantage, for I always find such a satisfaction in all the respects which I pay you, as that I expect, if not an amendment, yet a contentment at the least from the honour which I give myself of saying with abundance of truth, that I am Exceedingly yours. The Answer. 38. A Gentleman to a sick Lady. Madam, IF I were able to express the Joy which I received from your late Letter, I am confident you would not be ill pleased with mine; yet though the Letter was most freely welcome, as being your Ambassador, I confess when its Errand was delivered, whereby I understood the condition you were in, I could not forbear some passionate incivilities to the poor Paper, but I do not despair of obtaining your pardon for it; for, you ever profess to love kindness, and I am very believing, that you cannot find more in the heart of any creature than mine. That I may conclude, you may in time be brought to think so, be pleased to follow my Advice; be extreme careful to preserve yourself this Winter, for the season will not easily assist you towards a speedy Recovery▪ but I hope the prayers of all your friends will, and I want not the consolation of believing that some use may be made of his, who is Madam, Infinitely yours, to serve you. 39 The Lover to his unbelieving Mistress. Fairest Lady, IT is my unhappiness to love, and not to be believed, what assurance shall I render to satisfy your credulity, if death or danger may convince you, but your commands, and then let your experience be the Judge. Is there that wretch that hath offended you, name him, and make me your scourge, or shall I combat with some furious Lion, or try my strength against an angry Bear? These, or what may seem more dreadful shall be eagerly performed, since fortune must needs favour those whom your love inspires; let me but once obtain that, and I shall fear nothing but a surfeit of Joy and Happiness, as being mortal, yet Bright Goddess, Your humble Votary. The Answer. 40. The Lady to her Lover. Dear Sir, I Received your late Epistle, which was not with me before I wished it; but give me leave to tell you, I do observe your affection to be but lukewarm▪ for (though I do not delight in great Titles, yet) I know it hath been usual, and is still, for Lovers when they have an occasion to express their zeal for a Lady, to give all their adornments that the Art of Words or Memory can add to a deserving Beauty. This I say only to inform you, that I can notify your neglect in this particular, But I will conclude it was either your bashfulness, or else your subtlety to try my simplicity and love; But for the future pray remove all doubts and assume no more a Counterfeit for liberty of trying my patience, when you know I would pull out my own heart did it entertain a thought of alteration; fear not me, but do you yourself remember those protestations you have so solemnly and devoutly made, and thereby inflamed my affection. Let Virtue and constant Love be still your inseparable Companions, so may you conclude, I shall esteem you my treasure, and will be no less Yours, to perpetuity. 41. The Lover to his Mistress, having gained her affection. Life of my Love. BEing overjoyed for the great treasure I am lately blessed with, I could not contain myself till I had wrote to thee, to assure thee once more of the great felicity I enjoy since the happy Contract between thy dear self, and me; I never was really happy till now, I had before but a mere glance of Paradise, but now an absolute possession; now all my joys are become acquainted with my sense, before I was only made up of Fancies and Airy imaginations; I had then but a glimpse of those fair flowers, the Roses and Lilies of thy cheeks, but am now happily arrived to the unimaginable pleasure of gathering. My senses are much too narrow to entertain their bounteous flow, they have fed even to a surfeit, and I have nothing more to fear, than my happiness, lest excess swell me till I burst: Then will Cupid be more cruel than before, since when I was out sick of love, and dangers were not so great as ●ow; But why do I talk of danger? I will fear nothing whilst I have thy love to guard me, for by the ●orce of that, I dare promise myself not only happi●ess and safety, but all the blessings that can attend ● zealous Lover, as I have been and will be, while I ●ave power to be (my Dear) Thine only, and for ever. 42. A Gentleman to his Lady, upon his urgent occasions of taking, a journey. Honoured and dear Lady, HAd not Christianity tied me to a stricter rule, I could even curse the severity of my fate, since necessity compels me to be banished from you, and consequently from myself; for let me go never so far distant, my heart will be always in your custody, and the thoughts of your dear Self, shall be my only consolation. But that I should be thus enjoined to remove my person from you, in whom consisteth all my comfort and delight, is no small grief to me, especially considering the life I apprehended in your favour, the Heaven that I discovered in your Smiles, and all those Elysium Joys that adorned your countenance; yet since it must be so, be assured, my Dear, Dear, I shall not forget the Vows of my Devotion, and I will be proud to publish your Virtues to the ignorant world, till I become completely happy in an Experience of your Constancy; nor shall I move in any other Sphere than what your influence doth govern, and will sooner languish to the worst of Deaths, than love any but your Divine self. Thus my (only Joy) leaving my heart in your tuition, I only beseech you to be tender of it, for its own, for yours, or for my sake, and in expectation of my happy return, I rest Your faithful humble servant. The Answer. 43. A Lady to her Lover, upon his taking a journey. Dear Sir, I Would pour forth as many Curses on my fate as you can invent for yours, but that I have an ambition to be like you in all things, especially in what becomes a Christian, and a Lover. But since, as you say, necessity doth compel you to take a Journey, (and I dare not doubt the least account of your lips) I must study to be content, and to exercise all that patience Heaven will be pleased to afford my Prayers; and since you have honoured me with the custody of so great a charge as is your most noble Heart, be confident I shall cherish it as the Apple of mine own Eye, and as a Hostage for my fidelity and your security, I assign you mine, be equally careful of it, as you honour yourself, or me, and I shall be no less studious to declare your worth, than to preserve my own fame, which never can be tainted while I remain, as I have resolved, Yours ever, in constancy and service. 44. A cracked Virgin to her deceitful Friend, who hath forsaken her for the love of a Strumpet. Base Man, NOw you appear so foul, that nothing can be more monstrous; is this the fruit of your Promises, and Vows, was it for this that you so often swore you never spoke to me without th● thoughts of a pure love, and ambition to be mine, and that you never let fly an Oath in my presence, but when your heart was inflamed by a fire of Virtue, and that in all your actions, worth was the Loadstone that attracted your industry; how comes it then to pass, that you forsake me, ruin my Reputation, and leave me to become the Map of Shame and Ignominy; and not only so, but with a wretched confidence glory in your impiety, and think to wipe off all your injurious actions with a slight or careless humour; and this reproach that is like to befall to you as well as me, is occasioned through a lascivious love which you bear to an impudent Woman; nay, a known Strumpet, whose eyes discover in sparkles the deceitfulness of her heart, and whose very smiles are more ominous than the tears of a dissembling Crocodile; for shame consider, if not for my sake, for your own. What delight or conversation can you enjoy in the company of a lude Whore, woe loves another as well and better than she doth you, or one indeed that hath no real affection for any? I fear the custom of your sinning, hath taken away the sense of your own good, and you are grown deaf, and desperate, otherwise you durst not provoke the divine Vengeance, or expose yourself to Virtue's Curs●s, and the scorn of all good men, for the notorious injuries you have done (perhaps to others but too soon) to Wicked Wretch, Your friend, till you abused her. 45. The Lady to her slandered Servant. Sir, WHen you were last with me, there passed some circumstance of affection between us both, but having considered the great affair that we th●n had under consultation, I must desire your pardon, if I crave leave to recall my forward fondness, since my fortunes and my happiness lie at stake; not that I do utterly determine to abandon all manner of good will for you; but only that little time may satisfy me concerning some reports of you that have lately reached my ears. Sir, I hope they are false, and in that confidence, I gave neither credit nor countenance to the former, but till I may be convince they are so, 'Tis my request that you show your love by abstaining from any further visits to Sir, Your Friend and Servant. The Answer. 46. The slandered Lover to his Lady. Most worthy Lady, I Know not how to render you sufficient thanks for that Noble favour, so glorious, and therefore like yourself, neither to countenance my accuser, nor condemn me till you had heard my answers; Honoured Lady, it is not unknown to you, that I dare not do any thing of justice to you, and that I have been ready, and will be so, to lay my life at the feet of your service, so far I am from fastening a falshhood on your fair Honour, that the proudest he that durst do it, shall know I will be ambitious to justify you, and correct him; and that I speak truth, there need no greater argument than my zeal for you, when I would not allow of the least whispering against you, even then when you were most unkind to me; therefore Good Madam, continue your wont worth, and those good thoughts you once had of m●, and be assured, if I cannot be so happy as to thrive in your estimation, yet through a glory I have to be seen in your service, I will never suffer any to traduce your fame, and if I cannot obtain the Honour of being your servant, I shall be happy in the Title of Madam, Your slave, or vassal. 47. The jealous Lover to his beloved. Dear heart, YOu cannot but understand the extreme perplexities that persecutes the whole frame of my mind; it is occasioned through a cordial love, which I bore to you, to you sweet Lady, why th●n will you be so severe to expose me to the hazards of desperation, if you have any love, pity, or reason, give some assurance, at least encouragement, that in time I may be happy, otherwise while I consider your excellent Virtues, the incomparable Endowments of the Divine Soul, I mistrust my own merits, and you thereby become cruel in setting me upon the torments of suspicion; O think not that I can retain the Idea of your Beauty without the hopes of enjoying you, or the absolute ruin and desolation of myself: Dear Soul, it is not the frownings of a Father, or Brother, that I value, but if you frown, or storm, or seem angry, you shoot a dart into my bosom; since your sorrow is my suffering, and your complaints are to me an Agony worse than death; therefore Divine Lady, be like yourself, virtuous, constant, and resolved; give some life to my hopes, remove my jealousy, that I may expect to call you mine, and be Master of my own senses, that I may be convinced there shall not need any further expostulation, since I discourse with an understanding Lady, and dare assure the world there are Women in it of worth, virtue, and sincerity, that scorn to be disloyal, as much as doth, My only Joy, Yours only, to be commanded. The Answer. 48. A Lady to her jealous Lover. Suspicious Sir, WHat occasion have I given you to retain any evil or doubtful thoughts of my love or modesty? it is true, and probably you have heard it, a Gentleman lately was pleased to bestow a visit on me, nor could I do less than afford him a civil salutation. Sir, I am not ignorant of the severity of the Italians exercise, but we are now in England, where the practice of humanity acquaints us with the true use of conversation; I know too, that Love is always seasoned with a smack of Jealousy, however your own wisdom, and the confidence I thought you had of me, ●ight inform you, that an uncorrupted heart is Can●on proof against temptations as well as slanders: But to satisfy you, if you dare rely on my word, here passed not a Syllable between us, which a Divine, or you yourself might not have heard, otherwise be confident, if there had been no limits to the bands of respecting you, I should yet have had a regard to my own credit, and neither have given ear to immodest parley, or any undecent carriage. Be from henceforth confident of my Loyalty, for in a little time it shall convince you, that I love you truly, and with so sincere a resolution, as to be, Sir, Yours, not to live without you. 49. Civilities from one Lady to another. Dear Madam, MY Ambition is still to continue in your favour, yet that may prove as importunate as it is unjust, because I never could deserve it, yet I have no power to frustrate the effect of that whereof you warrant the Cause which occasions my admiring of your worth. And since you have been pleased to assure me of your friendship, and your favour, I can do no less than offer my service, which shall ever be in readiness to attend your Commands: I have had some young Gallants with me of late, who promise more Visits, and have sent some Compliments; by the next I hope to be better furnished with somewhat new, to accompany what I have so often said, and shall perpetually, that I am, Madam, Yours, wholly at your Command. 50. A Gentleman's request (for a sum of Money) to his Friend: Sir, ACcuse me not for my Ambition to be still in your favour, since by that I freely beg what I would not ask, nor care to receive from any body whom I do not only affect, but extremely honour; The urgency of my occasions have prevailed with me, to send this messenger to you for the sum of, etc. only for one month's time, at the expiration of which, you shall be certainly paid. Sir, you may well wonder, how I that deserved so little, can so confidently desire so much; but my unwillingness to forfeit my word with one Friend, hath put me to engage it to another. This suit if you will please to grant, you will infinitely oblige me, however if you deny me, I should be ungrateful and unworthy should I disown those engagements which have otherwise made me sufficiently Your Debtor, and your Servant. 51. A Lady to a Gentleman, on his Recovery from a Fit of Sickness. Noble Sir, BY your favour, which is a great one, I have met with the good News I hoped for; I mean your Recovery from those dangers your late Sickness was said to threaten. I had the unhappy intelligence from one whom I knew to be just in his reports, and I was therefore bound in Honour as well as Conscience to believe him: But now you are well, I am safe, and not in so much danger of being frighted by the misreports of others. Here are now so many about me, and they cha●ting at all once, that I can with difficulty write one word of sense, however my heart like a Carrier's horse, trots in the old path and pace, and cannot be distracted from resolving, nor my hand from expressing that I am, and shall be ever Your very Friend, and Servant. 52. The Recovered Gentleman, to the aforesaid Lady. Madam, MY indisposition hath been double, the want of health and your good company, which hath been most particularly desired; since my inclination invites me to take a pleasure in your Society, your Letter was extremely welcome, you may believe me, Madam, for you cannot but know with what respect I have continually adored your favours, in recompense for all I have received, and what I may not despair to hope for, I will serve you Madam, if I can not only from one end of the world to the other, but from this very day, to the last of my life, and shall defy all your commands, if they shall dare to exceed my inclination and resolution to obey. I will not crave your pardon for not writing till now, since the King, if he will be just, cannot punish me for not performing impossibilities; nor will you, I know, be so unmerciful now I want the use of my own hand, to deny me another man's. But though I have been his Debtor for it hitherto, I will make hard shift to subscribe myself now, and ever, Madam, Your obsequious Servant. 53. The Lover to his Mistress, upon his fear of her entertaining a new Servant. Fairest Lady, WHat can there be to compose an accomplished mind, that you want? Beauty, Generosity, a Noble Birth, solid Wisdom, affable Demeanour, insomuch Lady, that you are truly the Centre where all the Graces meet, and you do not only approach absolute Perfection, but enjoin all others to a high and fervent Observation; nor can I boast of any respects I do you, since your Virtues command more than I am able to wish, and it is my glory, and I esteem it the pride of my life to justify my souls desire to serve you, and an honour to my Bondage, that I may be accepted for your slave. Command me then most Excellent Lady, but withal remember that your Commands be love; for without love I can have no life, nor do I value death so I may bear your love with me to the grave; Yet, my Dearest Lady, let me not be mistake, though I am happy in being your subject, yet, like a Sovereign Prince, I cannot endure a Competitor; The feud being much alike between Rivals for Love, and those for Kingdoms; I have more of man in me, to brook another's Claim, especially any presumptuous hand to seize my right. Let me beseech you then, for Humanity sake, and Virtues, for yours and mine, to use a circumspection, lest you betray your Virtue to Corruption, or my small stock of Valour to irrecoverable dangers. For be assured, if my hopes are frustrated either by your will, or ignorance, I will defy the world, you, all women for your sake, and myself; but if any daring Arm shall stretch itself out in violence to your Honour, I will in duty force it to retire, or make it perish in the extension, and be extremely happy if my best blood may be expended in the service, since I have vowed to entertain the Resolution of being, Madam, Nons but yours, and Yours till death. 54. A Fair young Virgin, to an old Rich Miser, whom her Guardian did design should Wed her. Honourable Sir, FOr I must ever acknowledge the truth of that old Proverb, that says Age is honourable; for all that, give me leave to tell you, though I am under the tuition of another, yet I am Mistress of my own affections; and in truth, neither your wisdom, your gravity, no nor your riches can charm me to affect you; Sir, be so much yourself as to desist from your suit to me; be in charity with the world, and in love with Heaven; build Hospitals, that you may merit the prayers of the poor, and spend not your precious time in dotage upon a Woman; for to be plain with you, I will sooner wed myself to a Nunnery, or some loathsome Goal, than become your Bed-fellow, and shall ever have a greater estimation for a Wiseman in Rags, than a Fool in his Richest Trappings; if you visit me, or send to me any more, I shall conclude you troublesome and frantic; be advised then, since you know the mind and resolution of, Sir, Yours in the way of Friendship. 55. The Ingratiating Gentleman to his angry Mistress. Excellent Lady, I Beseech you to consider, I cannot live unless you love, then be so merciful as to save what your frowns are able to destroy; if you imagine my Husbandry will be profuse, your love will teach me to be frugal: Do you mistrust Incontinency? love will quench those flames; Do you fear I may be guilty of extravagancies, love will teach me to be solid; Are you afraid of want? love is content with a little, and studies things that are impossible, it overcomes all doubts and intricacies, and facilitates things that are most difficult. Be not then so credulous to the whispers of Calumniators, though these suggestions are buzzed into your ears, yet consider whether there be any ground for such like Jealousies, or the ends of those that raise them, only to poison my Reputation and my Happiness; let my honest and real Assertions be weighed in the balance of your serene Judgement, that I may be admitted into your favour, or else know my doom, and die quickly, that Fame may do me so much honour and justice, as to Record me, Divine Lady, Your abused Martyr. 56. A Gentleman of good Birth, but small Fortune, to a worthy Lady, after she had given a d●●ial. Worthily Honoured Lady, HAd I not apprehended some small spark of encouragement, as it seemed to issue from your gracious acceptance of my affections, I had certainly ●orborn to have put you to this second trouble, or myself to a fresh presumption, as knowing such Divine Stars of Beauty are to be beheld with more than an ordinary Veneration. Excellent Lady, I humbly beg of you, nor to reflect upon my Confidence, nor startle me with my inequality of Birth, lest the sense of losing you, send me to Hell with terror. My presumption hath this Apology, it is more ease to reach to the lofty Bough, than to stoop to the humble straw; and when a man attempts things Noble, though he fail in his designs, it is a glory to undertake them. And though, Madam, you are truly great as well as good; yet Histories will tell you, there have been Queens, and Persons of highest Honour have cast their smiles on such whose accomplis●ments might claim respect. For my own part, I may and dare say it without ostentation, my Birth is not base nor mean, and my affection nobly loyal: Oh let not my fears suggest to me that some other by an intrusion will deprive me of my Souls Treasure, your love, a Happiness that I would purchase with any thing more dear than liberty or life; Oh be not then so severe as to say, Honour forbids you to affect me, though you could like my person, there is death in every accent of such a sound; But if you do resolve for a servant more meritorious than myself, you will ease my torments by giving me to understand so much, since I intent not to trouble you with any more lines, but resolutely to fall, Celestial Lady, A Sacrifice to Love, and you. 57 A Lover to his Mistress, who had lately entertained another Servant to her bosom, and her bed. Madam, I Am now arrived to that pitch of Learning, as to understand the Vanity of your Se●, you have incomparably well proved, that though men can put a bridle into the nostrils of wild Beasts, outdo the Craft of Serpents, and dive into the most hidden secrets of Nature, yet the industrious thing called Woman can outdo him, and confound his noble understanding. From henceforth therefore I will shun your Sex as the infectious poison of a Pestilence; Now could I curse my Credulity, myself, and all Women for your sake; was I not forewarned by the example of a wicked Helen, that occasioned the desolation of famous Troy, by that of Eryphile, Cleopatra, Messelia, Panthea, Rhodopis, and many others? but why should I trouble my brain to sum up Examples, when each woman is a Plague herself to all but those Adulterous Lechers that bear Hothouses in their bodies, and Stoves in their boiling bloods. I perceive my love was not sufficiently immodest for you, I have been too cold in my Amours, therefore it is you slight me, and entertain some Monster of a more able back; whom (not unlikely) your roving wanton eyes have discovered from your window to bear some heavy weight, and not shrink his well-made Joints under his ponderous load; may you enjoy him, but may you receive the rewards due to your Adultery and Perjury; for be assured Heaven hath continual supplies of Vengeance for such abominable offenders; And that it will be just to you, and your deserts, is not only the desire, but the belief of Your most abused Friend. The Answer. 58. The Lady to her Lover, in defence of her own Innocency. Unkind Sir, I Do not a little wonder at the frenzy of your cracked brain, since you dare thus confidently to call my love and modesty in question, and only for the civil Entertainment which in honour I was obliged to afford a Friend; whence come all those dreadful and satirical Expressions that you imagine are now too good for one that but lately you pretended to love entirely, and spared not Vows and Imprecations to create a credulity in me? Certainly the Furies were your Dictator's when you wrote; I will grant you that a Lover may be allowed to be a little jealous, it is but the overflowings of his affection, but I hold it not sit he would be mad, ranging mad, as I fear you are. Sir, believe me, your intelligence is false, and innocency can with safety stand all the Assaults of a slanderous Tongue: P●ay recollect your thoughts, and punish my Accuser, that my worth may not lie longer under the burden of a Calumny: Be less suspicious, and assure yourself I shall be ever loyal, though now I write in passion, so far I dare engage, since I already find it is my chief content and happiness to be thought worthy of being, Sir, Yours, though hugely wronged. 59 A Lady to him whom she affects. Sir, I Should have been happy if Heaven had given me merits to deserve your affections, since I hold it no great difficulty to afford you mine: But that we may discourse with a little freedom, I will borrow so much time from my other Affairs, as to meet you at, etc. only I shall give you this Caution, that as I am a Virgin, you will show yourself so far a Gentleman as not to offer any thing that may savour of incivility; pardon me, that I lay such an Injunction on you, it is not that I question you are otherwise Noble, but only what is commonly expected from a Maiden, that hath a respect to her own modesty and credit, and may therefore very well become, Sir, Your Friend and Servant. The Answer. 60. A Lover to his Amorous Lady. Dear Madam, I Do so well understand my respects to you, that (pardon my boldness if I say) your care was somewhat needless. Lady, it is you that I adore, and can you then imagine I would injure you, you that I would gladly make my own, and be proud of such a Purchase? Again, my Birth is not so base, as to tyrannize over Ladies, especially you, the best of Ladies; when the Sky puts on her bespangled Garments, th● glittering Stars, I will expect you with all the reverence and submission due to your noble Merits, from, Divine Lady, Yours, if you think me worthy. 61. The Affected Lover to his Mistress. Glorious Lady, WE read and understand by the industrious help of History, how stones have danced after Amphion to the Theban Walls, that the Mountainous Ossa, and the lofty Pa●chaya likewise danced to the Odrission Lyre, that Dolphins forsook their wild Natures, when they heard the melody of Arion's Harp, humbling their backs of scales, to bear him from the violence of Neptune, and his angry waves. It is the● beneath a wonder, if the world stand amazed at your voice; should the fierce Tiger, or the raging Boar but hear you speak, they would change their unbridled natures into the modesty of devout Adorers: One accent from your delicate and incomparable lips, are sufficient to give life to a dying man, and to revive into Childhood the chill and cold clods of Age. One smile of yours can work more miracles, than Esons Experience found in Medea's Bath. How happy am I then in your love! I am nothing beneath the great Monarch of the greatest Empire, and may I fall from all Fortunes, to my absolute ruin, when I forget to be, Most Honoured Lady, Your Beauty's slave. The Answer. 62. A Lady to her Affected Lover. My Happiness and joy, YOur large Commendations, and liberal Expressions towards me, do certainly assure me that your affection to me is real; yet though I cannot requi●e your courtesies with a reprehension, I think I ought in justice to give you this Cautionary Information, that though you may think as you say, others may be of another mind; and some Critic may chance to find those faults in your Rhetoric, which you that see with the Multiplying-glass of Love cannot perceive; Therefore lest you forfeit your wisdom, forbear these Hyperboles hereafter, since the reciprocal trials that have passed between us, do sufficiently declare the mutual coherency of our affections: Let me implore you to be more reserved in this point, if you respect my love, or me, for what need such lofty lines, that savour so much of flattery, when you know I hive made it my resolution to be Yours, and only yours. 63. A Lady to her despairing Lover, who had deserted his suit at the first Repulse. Sir, I Have expected either to have seen or heard farther from you, but I perceive you are but a raw Soldier, and but lately engaged under Cupid's banner, otherwise you would not have given over the Skirmish for a small Repulse; For though I can afford you a room in my heart, and all th● love that is there is for you and your worth, yet you might well tax me with lenity, or suppose me extreme forward, should I yield at the first summous, without having the least experience either of your love, or loyalty; But be confident (for I dare write more than I durst speak, since this Paper cannot blu●h, though I may) I have had a very high respect and honour for you, since the first moment that made me happy with your presence; I suppose a word to the wise may be sufficient, if you have a kindness for me, you perceive I am ready to go out of the road of a Maiden's modesty, only to meet with you: Be not so much like your Sex, as to slight me, now you have that thrown upon you, which with so much ardency you seemed to court before; for I can judge of Justice as well as Love: but if you will favour me with your company, or at least a line or two, you will not only give me abundance of satisfaction, but engage me to be Sir, Yours for ever. 64. A Gentleman to a fair Lady, whom he accidentally discovered at a Window. Lovely Lady, JUstice and Honour kiss your Hands, and so far plead my Cause as to tell you, you are obliged to show me favour, since for your sake I have undergone the vehement tortures of an expecting Lover, but now being grown impatient, I have taken a resolution to be rather importunate than bashful; for my nature is too high to suffer me to stoop to, or fly from any attempt that hath the countenance of what is Noble: Fairest Lady, my Ambition is to visit you, if my love may prevail with you to afford me so great an honour, and I question not (since Heaven delights to be loved, and you like one of its Inhabitants journeyed here for a small space, appear Angelical) but you will be in condition as in beauty; For if the Divinity of your Person lay a charm upon my senses, it is but Justice that you endeavour to recover me before my Distemper render▪ me incapable of any remedy; however it shall be my glory, if I cannot live your servant, that I can die, Lovely Creature, Your Devout Admirer. 65. A sick Lady to her Lover, enjoining him to forbear his Visits, she being infected with the Small-Fox, or some other Malignant Distemper. Sir, I Am now become a Prisoner to my Chamber, and though it were charity in you to bestow your Visits, yet my own sense of justice informs me I ought to continue close, since that fate that hath befallen me, may else be so spiteful as to seize on you: it is a Distemper that hath used a violence to my whole body, and hath not spared my face; lest therefore I become your wonder, I conjure you by all the love you have, or ever had for me, to absent yourself for some time, till you may see me with more safety and convenience; for if you should venture your person, now mine is in some danger▪ my grief would be augmented, since I know it is more wisdom to hazard the one half of my Estate, than all, and if I must lose myself, I would not have Death to be so triumphant as to possess my second self, and to glory in his Conquests so far as to make me a Bankrupt: You will do well to let me hear from you, at least send your Prayers in my behalf to the Heavenly Throne, for so it becomes a Christian and a Friend, and you will therein do justice to yourself, and Sir, Yours in sickness, or in health. 66. The fearful Lover, to his supposed unconstant Mistress. Madam, IT is now most apparent to me, that there is no credit to be given to a Woman, have not you and I confirmed so strong a League of Love and Friendship as was possible to be done, yet you can forget all your Promises, your Vows, and sober Protestations, as if they were but as so much wind, and might be broken as soon as made. This you have most perfidiously done, and under the pretence of fear that your Misfortunes are drawing nigh, as if you had discretion enough to chalk to yourself the way to your Felicity, or as if you held a Correspondence with Wizards that could divine what the effects of our loves should be; if I must be slighted now at last, when I thought to be most happy, yet at least pray let me not be forgotten, that you may justly say you were once loved by a real Friend, and if it be my Misfortune to be deprived of you, may you meet with one whose affections may be sincere as mine, that would be, Madam, Yours, if you please. The Answer. 67. A Lady to her fearful Lover. Worthy Sir, YOur downright railing against our Sex, seems to me, only as the heat of your passion, which I will favour with the construction of your love. But I cannot but extremely admire what Devil it should be should inflame you with so much fear and Jealousy: I Remember all those Vows and Protestations that passed between us, and you shall know, I dare not to be so wicked as to tempt Heaven and Vengeance, so as to break my least promise to any soul alive, especially with you; Be therefore wise, and more resolved, you might have forborn your tainting language of my chalking out a way to my felicities, or holding a correspondence with Witches, or of Taxing me point blank with perfidiousness before you heard my answer; such usage would tempt many a Young Maiden to scorn and forger love: when I see you next we may discourse farther on this Subject; tell then and ever be confident, I am Yours, if you think fit. 68 A Wife to her Extavagant Husband. Vain and Miserable man, CAnst thou open thy eyes and not fear lest every one that sees thee should revenge those Adulteries and lascivious actions of thine, wherewith thou hast brought upon thee the Curses of a chaste Wife, with her dear and innocent Babes? doth not thy Conscience tell thee there is an everlasting Lawgiver fits in triumph against the day of Vengeance, to Judge such perverie sinners as thee? Or dost, thou imagine that those strict duties (commanded from the beginning) were but matters of Policy, or that position of Man and Wife being one flesh, was merely breath and Exhalation? surely it is so esteemed by Atheists and profane Livers, but I fear to the Eternal horror of thy Soul, thou wilt ●oar in the pit of everlasting perdition, from whence it is difficult to get Redemption; Therefore be no more foolish, but call to mind how thou hast mispended thy most precious time, endeavour to redeem it, and open the eyes of thy understanding; that thou mayest repent, and sin no more, lest a worse th●ng happen unto thee; Consider the lips of a whore are sweet as Honey to the taste of fools, but in her heart is the sting of Scorpions; yea, the Poison of Asps lie under her lips; wilt thou then adventure the stinging, when there is no Cataplasm for the sore? wilt thou forget the Virtuous Wife of thy bosom, for a Strumpet that is not only disloyal, but impudent? darest thou despise thy Children, those gifts of the Almighty Providence, resembling Olive Branches about thy Table, those Buds of the Divine Blessings promised to the good man; wilt thou run and wallow in the loathsome sink of Lust, and carnal Bruitality? thou that mayest trace the fair Walks of Contentment with honest and chaste Embrace! Oh, be more advised, Let the Contract of your Nuptial Vows prevail with thee, I conjure thee return to the pleasant Springs of our Amity, that I may wash thee clean again with the tears and kisses of a loving Wife, that thou mayest see thy children flourish, and that I may no longer be as my present condition renders me, Thy sorrowful and miserable Wife. The Answer. 69. A Lover to his Distempered Lady. My joy, YOu are now more cruel in your Sickness, than I ever found you in your Health, it was a severe Command you sent to me; what though you are sick, if I do not see you, I shall be so too, and perhaps may go out of the world before you: I understand your indisposition to be great, and that your Disease hath abused you to your face, but I hope you understand me so well, as to conclude my love doth not consist in outward forms, I have reason to command my passion, and by that I am persuaded it was a Virtuous Cassandra, not a Fair Helen that I courted, a spirit that was truly noble, not the thin skin of a fair feature; however I am confident the beauty of your Person, as well as that of your Mind, cannot be subject to a ruin by any sinister Accident: Time that undertakes to wrestle with all things mortal, may give it a trip hereafter, and then our souls shall enjoy a blissful Union to Eternity: Dear Soul, recall your Mandate, and give me leave to be happy once more, for till I see you, I am in continual pain, however I have this consolation, that I can be Yours languishing. 70. A Lady to her Servant, that for some private reasons concealed his Birth and Fortunes. Honoured Sir, MY Ambition hath been of so long a growth, that now it is become too big to be concealed; therefore I beseech you, if you have any respect for a young Lady, satisfy my request, which is only that I may better know you, and be better known to you. You seem to be a Gentleman every way complete, if I may receive your Character, though from your own mouth, I shall believe it as an Oracle, for I persuade myself you are truly Noble; if your intentions are as I have reason to believe, and that you bear any kindness towards me, you will not deny this reasonable civility; nor can it be thought discretion, but rather a strange extravagancy in me, to receive your affections, or to pledge my own, unless I can have ●ome account of your worth, more than what I have ●ead in your visage, which I confess is sufficient (if our ●onditions may correspond) to entitle me, Sir, Yours, as you shall please. 71. The absent Lover, to his supposed unconstant Mistress. Madam, I Dare not rashly condemn you, but pardon my love, if I take upon me to inform and to advise ●●u; There are those that whisper strange things ●●ncerning you, as that you afford yourself more liberty than is consistant with the modesty of your 〈◊〉; and that at unseasonable times you have been seen to accompany such persons, whose conversation is sufficient to render you weak and scandalous: I know, Madam, report is commonly a Tatler and a Liar, nor dare I entertain a lose thought of one whom I so dearly love, I cannot think myself lost to your Memory, but my fears make me apt to hearken to any thing, wherein there is any use made of your name ● impute it as I do, to my distraction, not your defects, but withal be so circumspect, that the mouths of slanderous people may be stopped, that envy itself may by seeing your Virtuous disposition, arrive to the same happiness that I enjoy, which is, to love and admire you, which I shall ever do while you have virtue, or I have power to be Yours. 72. A Gentleman's advice to his Mistress, how she should blind the eyes of her watchful friends. My Life's life, I Perceive thy Guardian, who is no Friend of mine● doth not only watch me, and all my words an● actions, but hath his Emissaries to do the like, an● there are those that do assure me, the Servants an● charged to slip behind the Hangings, and to watch who they are that shall visit thee; my advice therefore is, that always in his presence we seem as strangers and counterfeit our looks, that we may thereby perhaps allay the heat of his Jealousy, but remember when thou seest my brow full of frowns, as if I had resolution to be angry, it is but a Copy of my counttenance, and that originally I am as I shall be ever 〈◊〉 happy, and therefore thy most pleasant friend, belie●● it for a play, not a truth, and if thou dost but act t●● part as well as I, it shall not be long ere Hymen sha●● draw the Curtain, and discover to all the world, th●● in spite of either their care or envy, thou art min● in the interim be assured, I shall in Love and Loyalty continue as an unmoved Rock, My dearest Dear, thy affectionate Servitor. 73. A Gentleman to his new Mistress, upon his relinquishing an old one. Lovely Lady, HAving lately had the happiness to see you, I am now withdrawn from my designs of marrying with another, I cannot deny but some treaty was had concerning that affair with, etc. but your excellent beauty hath put a stop to my career, and hath made me ambitious of meriting your favour, and that you may not think me wavering, since I have left one that I might find a better; be assured, Madam, I will never enter into the bonds of Matrimony with any but your incomparable self. I had not perhaps took this presumption upon me, if I had not had some encouragements, or if I had not at least fancied as much, when I was lately where you were. I beseech you, Dear Lady, pardon this rudeness, and give me the opportunity to wait upon you, that I may verbally and really give you a farther testimony of the love and honour I ●ave had for you, since I made it my resolution to live and die Yours. 74. A Captious Lover to his Virtuous Lady. Mistress, etc. I Did persuade myself that you were absolutely resolved to be mine, and that no persuasions or allurements could prevail with you to vary from your ●orm●r thoughts, but I now find you are as changeable as your Sex, and it is easier to hold a slippery ●el by the tail, than to find a Woman that is true and constant. Had I given you any occasion, you might ●ave had some pretence for your frequenting the company of the young Gallant, or admitting him into your Society, but my affections have been unspotted, and never had so much as a small flaw, or mote in them till now. Now, that you like an unjust, and wanton, if not lascivious piece of Vanity, have given occasion to no small number that observed your behaviour, to talk and besmear that fair reputation that you before enjoyed, which was the main motive that spurred me on to conclude our Contract. And since that time I have took you to be mine, and therefore may with the more freedom reprove you, and advise you. I shall now say no more, but expect you should satisfy my disturbed thoughts, by giving me an account of what passed between you, and then hoping you will be more reserved for the future, you may still conclude me as bfeore, Your affectionate real Friend. The Answer. 75. A Virtuous Lady to her Captious Lover. Sir, I Am apt to believe it for a certain truth, that Cupi● and jealousy are inseparable Companions, and tru● love is oftentimes mixed with suspicious fears, but 〈◊〉 is my wonder, that you who are a man of reaso● should so flatly condemn me before you hear what m● offence hath been. Sir, give me leave to tell you, have now a fair occasion to mistrust your demean●● hereafter. The Gentleman that was in my compa●● deserves rather your acknowledgements for his nob●● deportment, than your extravagant censure: but perhaps you will absolutely conclude me idle, for bei●● so much as seen with any man, since I was design to be yours only, however you may do me the ●●●stice to consider there were others of my Sex 〈◊〉 me, nor had I been in his company, had not the i●●portunate entreaties of the rest prevailed with 〈◊〉 Besides, though I am in election to be your wife, I hope you do not intend to make me your Slave, but will allow me a reasonable conversation with persons above the reach of a Calumny; I beseech you Sir, be satisfied with this account, and take this for a certain ●ruth, I will hence forward forget the hopes of being a ●ride, before I will cast you into such another hell of tormenting Jealousies, but shall study to render my ●elf as shall become, Sir, Yours, if it may be. 76. A Lover in Commendation of his Mistress. My Bliss, I Was sufficiently amazed when I beheld your person, and the beauty of your outward shape, insomuch that I concluded Nature designed you for her Storehouse, wherein all her Rarities and Novelties were dispersed and entrusted; I looked, and as I looked, I admired, but having afterwards attained to understand the virtues of your mind, I could not then but ●early perceive what a rich treasure of precious Jewels were enclosed within the fair Casket. Since which ●ime, I have been proud of mine own judgement, and think the better of myself for fixing upon so glorious 〈◊〉 object. This is not flattery, but justice; and as you have set my affections on a flame, it is as just that you should study some way for satisfaction, since I am 〈◊〉 thought, word, and deed, Madam, yours, wholly at your devotion. 77. A Lady's thanks to a Gentleman for a civility lately received. Worthy Sir, I Should be a stranger to Worth and Honour, should I be so far unacquainted with the Generosity of our Nature, as not to understand it to be truly Noble in all things, it studies to do courtesies, and hates to receive acknowledgements, yet I must be so upright to myself, as to own your late civility for a most noble favour, which I confess I received with some kind of amazement, as being myself so much undeserving; and lest my services should be beneath my wishes, if I can have your acceptance, my endeavours cannot be unrewarded, for that alone will render them considerable; And if I can be happy in any thing, it must be in proclaiming to the world how much I am, Noble Sir, Your Honourer, and most humble Servant. 78. A Gentleman to a sick Lady. Madam, I Am so happy as to sympathise with you in your want of Health, my mind assures me, you cannot be distempered by any bold Disease, but I must be so too, you have this evidence for it, since I have had an extreme fit of discontentment from the time I last saw you: Now I am somewhat amended, my indisposition is a little qualified, which gives me encouragement to hope, as I do desire, that your condition is the same, otherwise, rather than you should want a Companion in your misery, I would choose to be ill again; That I may therefore be forewarned of my own Misfortunes, be pleased I beseech you to let me understand how you do, and withal make me happy by receiving some Commands from you, since it is the glory of my life to appear, Madam, Yours, in all occasions. The Answer. 79. A sick Lady to a Gentleman. Noble Sir, MY distemper leaves me, but all in vain, since I cannot be throughly well till I see that you are so, I could once willingly have died, because I cannot live to requite your kindness: but now I begin to be past all hope of dying, for death came towards me so fast, that the very joy thereof, hath wrought in me a recovery. Sir, my health consists only in the ability which I hope suddenly to have, that I may visit you; since you will not be so favourable as to prevent me by coming hither, but whether to come to me, or I to you, I hope you will not deny me the honour to own what I have hitherto professed, to be still, what I was before, and will continue, Sir, Yours, to serve and honour you. 80. A Husband to his Lascivious Wife. Wicked and wretched Woman, HAst thou forgot all goodness, that thou darest lift up thy adulterous eyes to behold the Crystal light? Hast thou no sense of thy own filthy deformity? Dost thou not know the world brands thee for a Whore, a notorious Strumpet? Art thou not sensible how thou hast made me become a scorn and byword to all that know me? Not that the credit of an honest man can be dashed by the infidelity of a Strumpet: but so it is, that the corruption of the times have created a custom, to set the Wives sins upon the Husband's forehead; thy children are either hated or pitied by all, and I myself dare not look upon them, lest I permit my fears to whisper to me ●hy Whoredoms, and their Bastardy. Our Relations, ●nd those that were formerly our bosom Friends, do ●ow forsake us, crying, they will not accompany themselves with such as belong to the house of shame, or that tread the paths of incontinency, consider these things and repent, lest thy impenitency do farther provoke Divine Justice, and Heaven pour forth Vengeance as a reward for all thy impieties, and withal remember, this is the advice of, Monstrous Woman, Thy sad, and much injured Husband. 81. A Gentleman to his Friend, returning thanks for sending him a Book. Worthily Honoured Sir, I Would have rejoiced to have had an opportunity to serve you before you sent me that ingenious Piece, Entitled, The Lives of the Statesmen and Favourites of England since the Reformation: But I am now bound to make it the business of my life to render for all an humble and hearty acknowledgement, both for your own sake, and for the Gifts; for though nothing could be unwelcome to me that you should send, yet I know not what could have been more welcome, except yourself, who I know not how to requite, but must proclaim you a Noble Friend, and a charitable Gentleman, and shall multiply my wishes for your prosperity, since you have without merit of mine, bound me for ever, Sir, Your thankful Servant. 82. A Gentleman's request to his Friend for a sum of Money. Sir, LEt me not be held no Friend, because I send to borrow money, I had rather want that, than lose your love; but Sir, if you shall think fit to pardon my boldness, I desire your patience so far, as to measure the length of your Purse-strings, since a present and urgent occasion puts me on this strange adventure: The sum is but five pounds, which shall be paid within a month, if you dare take my credit; for the assurance, and for interest you shall have my thankful acknowledgements. Thus not doubting of your civility in this case, I rest as ever, Your Friend and Servant. The Answer, 83. A Gentleman to his Friend that sent to borrow Money. Sir, OUr Friendship would be held by a slender thread if a five pound weight could snap it. I have not thought fit to pardon any bolddess, but do esteem myself happy in that I have a Purse or strings to serve you, your credit is sufficient, and therefore I have sent you the sum required, and shall expect no other interest, than the like courtesy (if you think it one) when you shall be troubled by Your hearty real Friend. 84. A Lover to his Mistress. Bright Lady, I Am now in love with my own eyes, and wit, for were not the first exceeding good, they could not endure the lustre of your Beauty, and I am apt to believe the latter may be sharp, since it hath so exact a Character of your worth. Be more just to yourself and me, than to think I flatter you, look into yourself, and then you will wrong neither, and when you find I have done you right, call not my affection in question for making the discovery, since it is my duty to serve you and truth in all things honourable; But if by commending my own services, I am so presumptuous as to exceed your pleasure, let your pity seal my pardon, since my default was only the effect of love, and I shall doubly be engaged to be Madam, Yours now, and ever. The Answer. 85. A Lady to her Lover. Sir, YOu do well to love your own eyes, and wit, and I will own the first to be good, and the latter sharp, but if they both w●nt together as you place them, your brains might be on the outside of your head, and then if you prove mistaken, blame yourself, your eyes, your wit, and not me: But that I may be just to you, where there is no fault, there is no need of pardon, though the worth of ones affection oftentimes appears more in words than in reality, however if you will take the liberty and trouble to commend me, I must and will claim the privilege to subscribe myself, Sir, Your obliged Servant. 86. A Gentleman to his Rival. Sir, IF you understood what an Honour I have for the accomplished Lady, you are pleased to a●●ord your Courtships too, and what a reciprocal return I have for my affections, you would either out of civility or judgement cease to be so ridiculous, as to endeavour to rob me of her, whom her Parents and herself hath blessed me with; And though perhaps she out of a Maiden modesty, will assure you it is not so, yet I can justify as much, and make it apparent to your own judgement; besides the time is drawing near when our wishes will be consummated, and then, you, and that part of the world that know her, may learn whether what I have now said be a truth or fable; Cozen not yourself, she hath a notable waggish wit, and uses it only to make you her sport: Sir, be wise, and think not with ease to attain to a happiness that I have tugged for; you are a Gentleman whom I have known, nor are your Relations strangers to me, were it not for that reason, I should not have brooked your visits to her hitherto, to the disturbance of my quiet: But from this time remember I have desired and warned you to forbear, as you cherish your safety and reputation, that so we may continue friends, for be assured you cannot find out a more ready way to provoke my wrath, than your perseverance, which will occasion me to proclaim myself, Sir, Your incensed Enemy. 87. A Virgin to her Parents, that would have her matched to one whom she cannot love. Most Dear Parents, I Beseech you, let the Rules of Nature be so prevalent with you, as not to marry me to the man whom you design, but if you do resolve that I shall marry, let it be to one that I shall love, or to my grave: be not overruled by the thought of Avarice, lest you become inhuman to your own blood, and make me Your sad, sorrowful, and afflicted Daughter. 88 A Gentleman's first Address to his Mistress. Beauteous Lady, YOur feature is so glorious, that I must needs acknowledge I do verily believe Nature hath not one Piece of Art that she can more boast of, nor is there any Lady under Heaven to whom I owe a greater reverence, were your affections but correspondent to mine, I would vie for happiness with the proudest Prince under the bright Canopy of the Celestial Orb, but without your love, I cannot live, which will be a sufficient evidence, that you are the efficient cause of my ruin: Madam, I humbly implore your favour, make me your adopted servant, and use me, and what is mine, as yours, for I account no glory greater than that of being, Lovely Lady, Your obedient Vassal. 8●. Another to the same effect. Mirror of Women, PArdon the presumption of a stranger, that having lately lost his heart, makes an enquiry for it of one who is composed of nothing but what consists of Innocence and Virtue, and from thence I have this consolation, that knowing it is in your possession, I question not but you will be noble to it, either for love or pities sake●: Dear Lady, give me leave to pay my visits to it, and if I may be so happy, let me accompany it, by being registered among the chief of your adorers. I confess my encouragements are small, having attempted nothing yet that might make me capable of your smiles, and being acquainted only with your worth; yet such is the overruling power of your Beauty, that though my eyes were but once blessed with a sight of your peerless Perfections, my soul immediately became a Captive to your Virtues; and being now at your disposal, I shall hope to find you merciful, that I may not languish in an adverse fortune, since you are naturally tender, and I am, fair Nymph, Yours wholly, in the bonds of firm affection. 90. A Courteous Lass to her Paramour, who had gotten her with Child. Dear Sir, I Am now constrained to con●ine myself to a retired life, such is the fruit of our late dalliance, that I am become obvious (and without your company shall be odious) to all that see me, and like yourself, the Babe in my womb is continually exercising itself in an activity that affords me but little rest. You cannot forget your promises to marry me, ere you could prevail with me to satisfy your pleasures; Sweet Sir, let your stay be short, for prolixity is dangerous to both our Reputations, I languish till you come, and till then, and ever shall remain, My Dear Soul, Yours, to love, and live with you. 91. A Gentleman to his (once scornful, but now) Affectionate Mistress. Madam, YOur sighs and flatteries are not prevalent enough, since I have now disposed of my resolutions so firmly, as that they are beyond the power of either of us to recall. Nor am I one of those puny Lovers, that think it reasonable to lay my love at your feet, after it hath so inhumanely received your slights. I once loved you too well, but now have so opened the eyes of my understanding, that I can more plainly see my own worth, and your frailty. You are now so kind as to make vows of love to me, and I am so little an infidel as to believe you, and therefore since you have a love for me, I conjure you by that love you bear me, that you trouble me no more, but henceforth study to forget that I ever was so much as. Your loving Friend. 9●. A Kindhearted Gentlewoman to her boasting Favourite. Ungrateful man, HAth my love to you deserved no better than your scorns? did I receive you to my embraces through my weak belief of your treacherous Vows, and do you requite me with the ruin of my Reputation: Degenerate Monster, can you be so sottish as to think you do not wound your own fame, when you strike at me, will not all men abhor you? and though they permit you a hearing, yet esteem of you as one of Nature's Prodigies. But to be more plain with you, be so wise as to forbear your foul reproaches, lest you receive a Pistol, or a Poniard, from some one or other that may be sensible of your unworthy usage to, Base Wretch, Your mortal Enemy. 93. The Lover to his inconstant Mistress. Lady, YOur love was once my Paradise, nor did I esteem myself happy in aught else, but now perceiving your Ambition hath betrayed your Honour, and corrupted your affection towards me, give me leave to tell you, since you can forget to love, I can as easily forget to sigh, and from this minute shall disown you for being the object of my delight, since I think it not at ●●l difficult to find a Mistress of more worth and constancy. May you possess a Husband equal to your deserts, I wish you no greater Plague. Farewell. Songs Alamode, Composed by the most Refined Wits of this Age. Song 1. AS in those Nations, where they yet adore Marble and Cedar, and their aid implore, 'Tis not the workman, nor the precious wood, But 'tis the worshipper that makes the God; So cruel Fair, though Heaven has given thee all, We mortals Virtue, or (can) Beauty call, 'Tis we that give the thunder to your frowns, Darts to your eyes, and to ourselves the wounds; Without our love which proudly you deride, Vain were your Beauty, and more vain your Pride. All envied beings that the world can show, Still to some meaner thing their greatness ow. Subjects make Kings, and we the numerous Train Of humble Lovers constitute thy Reign, Only this difference Beauty's Realm can boast, Where most it favours, it enslaves the most; And those to whom 'tis most indulgent found, Are ever in the surest fetters bound. No Tyrant yet but thee was ever known, Cruel to them that served to make him one▪ valour's a Vice, if not with Honour joined, And Beauty a Disease when 'tis not kind. Song 2. FAirest Nymph my delay Shames me, a Lover Which I will now repay, Since I discover Those Beauties and Graces Which so adorn thee, And makes thee grow proud, That it hath born thee, At the Wakes and the Fairs, And every Meeting, He's only happy can Dance with my Sweeting▪ Where all that stand about, Still gaze upon her, And those the Crowed ke●p out, Are talking on her. As she walks through the Meads With other Lasses, All Flowers bend their heads Still as she passes. Striving to offer them- Selves to be gathered, That she might Garlands wear, ere they were withered. As she at Ball in the Cool evening played For little Victories And Wagers laid; As the Ball, so their hearts When they came nigh her, Leapt for joy equally, As they stood by her. Ask the Rose why so red, She said, she kissed it, The Lily why so pale, 'Cause her lips missed it. The blushing Cherry said 'Twould be her debtor, 'Cause one soft touch of hers Did ripened better. Song 3. BReak, break, distracted heart, there is no Cure For this thy Souls most desperate Calenture, Sighs which in others passion vent, And give them ease when they lament, Are but the billows to my hot desire, And tears in me me not quench, but nourish fire: Nothing can mollify my grief, Or give me passion, or relief. Love's flames when smothered always do devour, And when opposed have the same fatal power. Then welcome Death, let thy blessed hands apply A Medicine to my grief, I'll die, I'll die. Song 4. WElcome blessed hand, whose white outvies The Lilies, or the Milky way, Nor can the spacious azure Skies, Clothed in the glories of the Day, Reveal so great a brightness as that hand, Compared to which the Snow itself is tanned. Welcome blessed hand, whose every touch Is able to recall a Soul Fled hence, whose sovereign Power is such, That it no mortal can control; My breast with as much joy that touch receives, As condemned Prisoners do their wished Reprieves. But prithee Celia, what design Led thy fair hands unto my bre●t, Was it a love to thine own shrine, Or pity to a thing oppressed? For thou mightst feel't swollen with those griefs which love At first begets, and cruelties improve. Thou couldst not think to find my heart Within its wont place of rest, That's turned recluse, and set apart, To the fair Cloister of thy Breast, There 'tis confined, but to a liberty, To be imprisoned there, is to be free. Therefore if thou my pulse wouldst feel, Or would my constitution know, Touch thine own cruel breast of Steel, And that will tell thee how I do; For in that happy Treasury doth lie, The sacred power to bid me live, or die. Song 5. LEt Votaries rearing up Altar and Shrine, Court straitlaced Religion till they be weary. I nought will offer but full Cups of wine, As a sacrifice to th' fat god of Canary. What pretenders call holy, Is dull Melancholy, 'Tis only rich Wine, Has the Power Divine, When they sigh and sob to make us all merry. Let crack-brained Students with Volumes devour, And let the starched Puritan mind Revelations, While themselves do pine, and their faces look sour, And Quacks kill themselves with inventing Purgations. Come give us more Sack, While our brains do crack, We'll steep our dry souls In liberal Bowls, And cherish our hearts with diviner Potations. Let Adventurers sail, till they plough up the Main, Of stones they call precious, let 'em bring home a Mine The light of our Noses their Rubies shall slain, And our Carbuncled Faces their Diamonds outshine. With peril and pain, Those trifles they gain, They wander and room, Whilst we sit at home, And think w'have the Indies, if we have but good wine. Yet sure the Leviathan happy would be, Who's made to tipple and frolic i'th' deep, If Bacchus, not Neptun●, were god of the Sea, And the Ocean Sack his senses to steep: Nor would any man fear To be ship wracked there, Since if he were drowned, By th' Jury 'twould be found That he was but dead drunk, and so fell asleep. Song 6. BEyond the malice of abusive Fate, I now am grown, And in that state My heart shall mourn The loss it has received, When of its only joy it was bereaved; The Woods with Echoes do abound, And each of them return the sound Of my Amintor's name▪ Alas, he's dead, And with him all my joys are fled, Willow, willow, willow, must I wear, For sweet Amintor's dead, who was my dear. Song 7. WHen Phillis watched her harmless sheep, Not one poor Lamb was made a prey; Yet she had cause enough to weep, Her silly heart did go astray, Then flying to the Neighbouring Grove, She left the tender Flock to rove, And to the winds did breathe her love. She sought in vain, To ease her pain, The heedless winds did fan her fire, Venting her grief, Gave no relief, But rather did increase desire. Then sitting with her arms across, Her sorrows streaming from each eye, She fixed her thoughts upon her loss, And in despair resolved to die. Mock Song 8. ON yonder Hill a Beacon stands, My Gloves will hardly fit your hands. I think 'twill freeze to night, Tobacco is an Indian weed, jeffory can neither write nor read, I'm sure some Dogs will bite. Peas-porridge is a Lenten dish, Pudding is neither flesh, nor fish, Some Cheese will choke a Daw, The Mayor of Quinborogh's but a Clown, The Lawyer wears a dagled Gown, What Tyl●r and jack Straw. The Sun sets always in the West, Is not the Pope's Religion b●st? Yes, when the Devil's bind. Room for my Lord Mayor and his horse, The Spaniard took Breda by force, With buttered fish he dined. Hark how my Hostess puffs and blows, Maids ha' any Corns on your feet or toes, Let's play a Game at Bowls. The Courtier leads a merry life, The Parson loves a handsome wife, Duke Humphrey dined in powl's. Song 9 WHen cold Winter's withered brow Waxed sad and pale with sorrow, Had overcome the darksome night, And coming was the morrow, I heard a Lad with Buglet clear, A Jubet, and a Hollow, Cry, Come away, 'Tis almost day, Forsake your Beds and follow. Then with a Troop well armed for spo●●, Upon their Coursers mounted, Such as Venus' Joys withstood, When she the wild Boar hunted, We on the Downs With a Pack of Hounds Whom Nature had befriended, Pursued poor Wat, New raised from squat, Her first sleep scarcely ended. Then over Hills, and over Dales, And over craggy Mountains, Through the Woods and shadowed ●ro●●s Enriched with Crystal Fountains, The little Brooks with murmurs sweet, And pretty Birds with wonders, Sing careless Notes, Through their well tuned throats, And fill the Air with thunders; Echoes shrill, From the Vaults of the Hill, The Selvages and Satyrs, Elves and Fairies do awake, And Sea-Nymphs from the waters, They listen to our larger strain, Attentively delighted, Courting the day For a longer stay, That we might not be benighted. Song 10. TEll me gentle S●rephon, why You from my embraces fly? Does my love thy love destroy? Tell me, I will yet be coy. Stay, O stay, and I will feign (Though I break my heart) disdain: But lest I too unkind appear, For every frown, I'll shed a ●ear. And if in vain I court thy love, Let mine at least thy pity move, Ah! while I scorn, vouchsafe to woo, Methinks you may dissemble too▪ Ah! Phillis that you would contrive A way to keep my love alive, But all your other chdrms must fail, When kindness ceases to prevail. Alas! No more than you I grieve, My dying flame hath no reprieve; For I can never hope to ●inde, Should all the Nymphs I court be kind, One Beauty able to renew Those pleasures I enjoyed by you, When Love and Youth did both conspire, To fill our breasts and veins with fire. Song 11. AMarillis told her Swum, Amarillis told her Swain, That in love he should be plain, And not think to deceive her, Still be protesting on his truth, That he would never leave her. If thou dost keep thy vow, quoth she, If thou dost keep thy vow, quoth she, And that thou ne'er dost leave me, There's ne'er a Swain in all this plain, That ever shall come near thee For Garlands and embroidered Scrips, For I do love thee dearly. But Colin, if thou change thy love, But Colin, if thou change thy love, A Tygress then I'll to thee prove, If e'er thou dost come near me. Amarillis fear not that, For I do love thee dearly. Song 12. WHen Celadon gave up his heart A Tribute to Astr●a's eyes, She smiled to see so fair a prize, Which Beauty had obtained more than Art▪ But Jealousy did seemingly destroy Her chiefest comfort, and her chiefest joy. Base Jealousy, that still dost move In opposition to all bliss, And teachest those that do amiss, Who think by thee, they tokens give of love: But if a Lover ever will gain me, Let him love much, but fly all jealousy. Song 13. SWeetest Bud of Beauty, may No untimely Frost decay Th' early Glories which we trace, Blooming in thy matchless Face. But kindly opening like the Rose, Fresh Beauties every day disclose, Such as by Nature are not shown, In all the blossoms he has blown, And then what Conquest shall you make, Who hearts already daily take, Scorched in the morning with thy beams, How shall we bear those sad extremes, Which must attend thy threatening eyes When thou shalt to thy noon arise? Song 14. 'TIs not i'th' power of all thy scorn, Or unrelenting hate, To quench my flames, or make them burn With heat more temperate, Still do I struggle with despair, And ever court disdain, And though you ne'er prove less severe, I'll dote upon my pain. Yet meaner Beauties cannot deign In Love this tyranny, They must pretend an equal flame, Or else our passions die. You fair Clarinda, you alone Are prized at such a rate, To have a Votary of one Whom you do Reprobate. Song 15. CAll for the Master, O! this is sine For you that have London's brave Liquors of wine For us the Cocks of the Hector's Wine wherein Flies were drowned the last Summer, Hang't let it pass, here's a Glass in a Rummer, Hang't let it, etc. Bold Hector's we are of London, New Troy, Fill us more wine: Hark here, Sirrah Boy, Speak in the Dolphin, speak in the Swan, Drawer, Anon Sir, Anon. Ralph, George, speak in the Star, The Reckoning's unpaid; we'll pay at the Bar, The Reckoning's unpaid, etc. A Quart of Claret in the mitre, score: The Hectors are Ranting, Tom shut the door; A Skirmish begins, beware Pates and Shins, The Piss-pots are down, the Candles are out, The Glasses are broke, and the Pots fly about. Ralph, Ralph, speak in the Checquer. By and by, Robin is wounded, and the Hectors do ●●ie, Call for the Constable, let in the Watch, The Hectors of Holborn shall meet with their match, The Hectors, etc. At Midnight you bring your Justice among us, But all the day long you do us the wrong; When for Verrinus you bring us Mundungus: Your Reckonings are large, your Bottles are small, Still changing our Wine, as fast as we call; Your Canary has Lime in't, your Claret has Stum, Tell the Constable this, and then let him come, Tell the Constable, etc. Song 16. YOur merry Poets, old Boy● Of Aganippe's Well, Full many Tales have told Boys, Whose Liquor doth excel; And how that place was haunted By those that loved good Wine, Who tippled there, and chanted Among the Muses Nine; Where still they cried, Drink clear boys; And you shall quickly know it, That 'tis not lousy Beer, boys, But Wine that makes a Poet. Song 17. THe thirsty Earth drinks up the Rain, And drinks, and gapes for drink again; The Plants suck in the Earth, and are With constant drinking fresh and fair. The Sea itself, (which one would think Should have but little need to drink,) Drinks ten thousand Rivers up, ●o filled that they o'erflow the Cup. ●he busy Sun, and one would guests ●y's drunken fiery face, no less Drinks up the Sea, and when that's done, ●he Moon and Stars drink up the Sun. ●hey drink, and dance by their own light, ●hey drink and Revel all the night; Nothing in Nature's sober found, But an Eternal Health goes round, Fill up the Bowl, and fill it high, Fill all the Glasses here, for why Should every creature drink but I? Why, man of morals, tell me why. Song 18. FIne young folly, though wear That fair Beauty, I do swear, Yet you ne'er could reach my heart; For we Courtiers learn at School, Only with your Sex to fool, Y'are not worth our serious part. Song 19 BE thou that art my better part, A Seal impressed upon my heart; May I thy finger's Signet prove, For Death is not more strong than Love, The Grave's not so insatiate, As Jealousies inflame debate. Should falling clouds with floods conspire, Their waters would not quench Love's fire; Nor in all Nature's Treasury, The freedom of affection buy. Song 20. TO friend and to foe, To all that I know, That to Marriage Estate do prepare, Remember your days In several ways, Are troubled with sorrow and care: For he that doth look In the married man's book, And read but his Items all over, Shall find them to come, At length to a Sum, Shall empty Purse, Pocket, and Coffer. In the pastimes of love, When their labours do prove, And the Fruit beginneth to kick, For this, and for that, And I know not for what, The woman must have, or be sick. There's Item set down, For a Loose-bodied Gown, In her longing you must not deceive her▪ For a Bodkin, a Ring, Or the other fine thing, For a Whisk, a Scarf, or a Beaver. Delivered and well, Who ist cannot tell, Thus while the Child lies at the Nipple, There's Item for wine, And Gossips so fine, And Sugar to sweeten their Tipple▪ There's Item I hope, For Water and Soap, There's Item for Fire and Candle, For better for worse, There's Item for Nurse, ●he Babe to dress and to dandle. When swaddled in lap, There's Item for Pap, ●nd Item for Pot, Pan, and Ladle; A Coral with Bells, Which custom compels, ●nd Item ten Groats for a Cradle; With twenty odd Knacks, Which the little one lacks, ●nd thus doth thy pleasure bewray thee: But this is the sport, In Country and Court, 〈◊〉 let not these pastimes betray thee. Song 21. I Dote, I dote, But am a Sot to show it, I was a very fool to let her know it, For now she doth so cunning grow, She proves a friend worse than a foe, She will not hold me fast, nor let me go: She tells me I cannot forsake her, Then straight I endeavour to leave her, But to make me stay, Throws a Kiss in my way, Oh then I could tarry for ever. Thus I retire, Salute, and sit down by her, There do I sry in frost, and freeze in fire; Now Nectar from her lips I sup, And though I cannot drink all up, Yet I am foxed with kissing of the Cup; For her Lips are two brimmers of Claret, Where first I began to miscarry, Her breasts of delight, Are two bottles of White, And her eyes are two cups of Canary. Drunk as I live, Dead drunk beyond reprieve, And all my senses driven through a sieve; About my neck her arms she layeth, Now all is Gospel that she saith, Which I lay hold on with my sudled faith: I find a fond Lover's a Drunkard, And dangerous is when he flies out, With hips, and with lips, With black eyes, and white thighs, Blind Cupid sure tippled his eyes out. She bids me rise, Tells me I must be wise, Like her, for she is not in love, she cries; This makes me fret, and fling, and throw, Shall I be fettered to my foe? I begin to run, but cannot go: I prithee Sweet use me more kindly, You were better to hold me fast, If you once disengage Your Bird from his Cage, Believe it he'll leave you at last. Like Sot I sit, That ●ill'd the Town with wit, But now confess I have most need of it; I have been foxed with Duck and Dear, Above a quarter of a year, Beyond the Cure of sleeping, or small Beer, I think I can number the months too, july, August, September, October, Thus goes my account, A mischief light on't, But sure I shall go when I'm sober. My legs are lamed, My courage is quite tamed, My heart and all my body is inflamed, As by experience I can prove, And swear by all the Powers above, 'Tis better to be drunk with wine than love; For 'tis Sack makes us merry and witty, Our foreheads with Jewels adorning, Although we do grope, Yet there is some hope That a man may be sober next morning. Thus with command, She throws me from her hand, And bids me go, yet knows I cannot stand; I measure all the ground by trips, Was ever Sot so drunk with sips, Or can a man be over-seen with lips? I pray Madam fickle be faithful, And leave offy our damnable dodging, Then do not deceive me, Either love me, or leave me, And let me go home to my lodging. I have too much, And yet my folly's such, I cannot hold but must have t'other touch; Here's a health to the King; How now? I'm drunk, and could chatter I vow, Lovers and fools say any thing you know; I fear I have tired your patience, But I'm sure 'tis I have the wrong on't; My wit hath bereavest me, And all that is left me, Is but enough to make a Song on't: My Mistress and I Shall never comply And there's the short and the long on't. Song. 22. WHy should we not laugh and be jolly, Since all the world is mad? And lulled in a dull melancholy; He that wallows in store, Is still gaping for more, And that makes him as poor, As the wretch that ne'er any thing had. How mad is that damned Money-monger That to purchase to him and his heirs, Grows shrivled with thirst and hunger; While we that are bonny, Buy Sack with ready money, And ne'er trouble the Scriveners, nor Lawyers. Those Guts that by scraping and toiling, Do swell their Revenues so fast▪ Get nothing by all their tormoiling, But are marks of each tax, While they load their own backs, With the heavier packs, And lie down galled and weary at last. While we that do traffic in Tipple, Can baffle the Gown and the Sword, Whose jaws are so hungry and gripple; We ne'er trouble our heads, With Indentures or Deeds, And our Wills are composed in a word. Our money shall never indite us, Nor drag our free minds to thrall, Nor Pirates nor Wracks can as●right us; We that have no Estates, Fear no plunder nor rates; We can sleep with open gat●●, He that lies on the ground cannot fall. We laugh at those fools whose endeavours Do but ●it them for Prisons and Fines, When we that spend all are the saviours; For if thiefs do break in, They go out empty again, And the plunderers lose their designs. Then let us not think on to morrow, But tipple and laugh while we may, To wash from our hearts all sorrow; Those Cormorants which, Are troubled with an Itch, To be mighty and rich, Do but toil for the wealth which they borrow. The Mayor of the Towu with his Ruff on, What a pox is he better than we? He must veil to the man with his Buff on; Though he Custard may eat, And such lubbarly meat, Yet our Sack makes us merrier than he. Song 23. NEver more will I protest To love a Woman, but in jest; For as they cannot be true, So to give each man his due, When the wooing sit is past, Their affections cannot last. Therefore if I chance to meet With a Mistress fair and sweet, She my service shall obtain, Loving her for love again: Thus much liberty I crave, No● to be a constant slave. For when we have tried each other, If she better like another, Let her quickly change for me, Then to change am I as free: He or she that loves too long▪ Sell their freedom for a Song. Song 24. NOw fie on foolish love, it not befits, Or man or woman know it; Love was not meant for people in their wits, And they that fond show it, Betray the straw and feathers in their brain, And shall have Bedlam for their pain: If single love be such a Curse, To marry is to make it ten times worse. Song 25. TUrn Amarillis to thy Swain, Thy Damon calls thee back again, Here is a pretty Arbour by, Where Apollo, where Apollo, Where Apollo cannot spy, There le's fit, and whilst I play, Sing to my Pipe a Roundelay. Song 26. Courtier's, Courtier, think it no scorn, That silly poor Swains in love should be; There is as much love in rent and torn, As there is in Silks and Bravery; The Beggar he loves his Lass as dear, As he that hath Thousands, Thousands, Thousands, He that hath Thousands Pounds a year. Song 27. TAke a pound of Butter made in May, Clap it to her Arse in a Summer's day, And ever as it melts, then lick it clean away; 'Tis a Medicine for the Toothache, old wives say. Song 28. BEss black as Charcoal, Was found in a dark hole With Kit at the Cat and the Fiddle; But what they did there, None safely can swear, Yet Gentlemen, Riddle my Riddle. Troth I would be loath, Were I put to my Oath, To swear Kit with Bess did engender; Yet it would tempt a man, Bridle all that he can, His present well-wishes to tender. But 't was found at last, ere a twelvemonth was past, That Christopher Bess had o'ermastered, For her belly betrayed her, And so she down laid her, And brought him a jolly brown Bastard. Song 19 THe Glories of our Birth and State Are shadows, not substantial things; There is no Armour against our Fate, Death lays his Icy hands on Kings: Sceptre and Crown Must tumble down, And in the dust be equal laid, With the poor crooked Scithe and Spade. Some men with Swords may reap the field, And plant fresh Laurels where they kill; But their strong Nerves at last must yield; They tame but one another still. Early or late, They bend to fate, And must give up their murmuring breath, While the pale captive creeps to Death, The Garland wither's on your brow, Then boast no more your mighty deeds, Upon Death's purple Altar now, See where the Victor Victim bleeds. All heads must come, To the cold Tomb; Only the Actions of the just Smell sweet, and blossom in the dust. Song. 30. SWeet jane, sweet jane, I love thee wondrous well, But am afraid, Thou't die a Maid, And so lead Apes in Hell. For why my dear, 'tis pity it should be so, Thou't better then to take a man And keep thee from the foc, Thou art so pretty, and fine, And wondrous handsome too, Then be not coy, Let's get a boy, Alas what should we do. I see thy brow, And I know What colour it is below, Then do nor jest, But smile the rest E'faith I know what I know. Song 31. VIctorious Beauty though your eyes, Are able to subdue an Host, And therefore are unlike to boast; The taking of a little prize, Do not a single heart despise. Song 32. CHloris, it is not in your power To say how long our love will last, It may be we within this hour May lose those joys we now may taste The blessed that Immortal be From change in Love are only free. And though you now immortal seem, Such is th' exactness of your fame; Those that your Beauty so esteem, Will find it cannot last the same Love from my eyes has stolen my fire, As apt to waste, and to expire. Then since we mortal Lovers are, Let's question not how long 'twil last, But while we love let us take care, Each minute be with pleasure past: It were a madness to deny To live, because weare sure to die. Fear not though love and beauty fail, My Reason shall my heart direct; Your kindness now will then prevail, And passion turn into respect: Chloris, at worst, you'll in the end But change your Lover for a Friend. Song 33. CElemana, of my heart None shall e'er bereave you; If with your good leave I may Quarrel with you once a day, I will never leave you. Celemana. Passion's but an empty name, Where respect is wanting: Damon, you mistake your aim, Hang your heart, and burn your flame, If you must be ranting. Damon. Love as pale and muddy is, As decaying Liquor, Anger sets it on the Lees, And refines it by degrees, Till it works it quicker. Celemana. Love by quarrel to beget Wisely you endeavour, With a grave Physicians wit, Who to cure an Ague Fit, Puts me in a Fever. Damon. Anger rouses Love to fight, And his only bait is, 'Tis the spur to vain delight, And is but an eager bite, When desire at height is. Celemana. If such drops of heat can fall In our wooing weather, If such drops of heat can fall, We shall have the devil and all, When we come together. Song 34 TWelve sorts of meat my wife provides, And bats me not a dish; Of which, four flesh, four fruit there are, The other four of fish. For the first Course, she serves me in Four Birds that Dainties are; The first a Quail, the next a Rail, A Bitter, and a Jar. Mine appetite being cloyed with these, With Fish she makes it sharp, And brings me next a Lamp, a Po●t, A Gudgeon, and a Carp. The second is of Fruit well served, Fitting well the season; A Medlar, and a Hartichoak, A Crab, and a small Reason. What's he that having such a wife, That on her would not dote? Who daily does provide such fa●e, Which costs him never a groat. Song 35. BE gone, be gone, thou perjured man, And never more return, For know that thy inconstancy, Hath changed my love to scorn; Thou hast awaked me, and I can See clearly there's no truth in man. Thou may'st perhaps prevail upon Some other to believe thee. And since thou canst love more than one, Ne'er think that it shall grieve me. For th' hast awaked me, and I can See clearly there's no truth in man. By thy Apostasy I find, That love is placed amiss, And can't continue in the mind, Where Virtue wanting is. I'm now resolved, and know there can, No constant thought remain in man. Song 36. Straight my green Gown into Breeches I'll make, And long yellow Locks, much shorter I'll take, With a hay Down, Down, a Down, Down a. Then I'll cut me a Switches, and on that ride about; And wander, and wander, till I find him out, With a hay Down, Down, a Down, Down a. And when Phylander shall be dead, I'll bury him, I'll bury him, And I'll bury him in a Primrose bed, Then I'll sweetly ring his Knell, With a pretty Cowslip Bell, Ding Dung Bell, Ding Dung Bell. Song 37. LOok, see how unregarded now That piece of beauty passes, There was a time when I did vow To that alone, but mark the fate of faces: That red and white works now no more on me, Than if it could not charm, nor I not see. And yet the face continues good, And I have still desires. And still the self same flesh and blood, A● apt to melt, and suffer from such fires: Oh some kind power unriddle where it lies, Whether my heart be faulty, or my eyes. She every day her man doth kill, And I as often die, Neither her power then, nor my will, Can quest'onabl● be, what is the Mystery: Sure Beauty's Empire, like the greatest States, Have certain Periods set, and hidden Dates. Song. 38. DEar give me a thousand kisses, Pay the Debt thy lips do owe; Let the number of those blisses, To ten thousand thousands grow, Till to infinites they flow: Let the sweet perfumed treasure Of thy breath, my spirits fill; So enjoying endless pleasure, Breathes rebreathing, let us still Breath one breath, and wish one will. Song 39 LIttle love serves my turn, 'Tis so enflaming, Rather than I will burn, I'll leave my gaming; For when I think upon't, Oh 'tis so painful, 'Cause Ladies have a trick, To be disdainful. Beauty shall court itself, 'Tis not worth speaking, I'll no more Amorous pangs, No more heart-breaking. Those that ne'er felt the smart, Let them go try it, I have redeemed my heart, Now I defy it. Song 40. NO more, no more, I must give o'er, For Beauty is so sweet, It makes me pine, Distrust my mind. And surfeit when I see't. Forgive me love, If I remove Unto some other sphere, Where I may keep A Flock of Sheep, And know no other care. Song 41. CHloris farewel, I now must go; For if with thee I here do stay, Thy eyes prevail upon me so, I shall grow blind, and lose my way. Fame of thy beauty, and thy youth, Amongst the rest me hither brought; Finding this Fame fall short of truth, Made me stay longer than I thought. For I'm engaged by word and oath, A servant to another's will; Yet for thy love would forfeit both, Could I be sure to keep it still. But what assurance can I take, When thou foreknowing this abuse, For some more worthy Lover's sake, Mayst leave me with so just excuse. For thou may'st say 'twas not my fault, That thou didst thus unconstant prove, Thou wert by my example taught To break thy oath, to mend thy love. No Chloris, no, I will return, And raise thy story to that height, That strangers shall at distance burn, And she distrust me reprobate Then shall my Love this doubt displace, And gain such trust, that I may come And banquet sometimes on thy face, But make my constant Meals at home. Song, 42. TO little or no purpose I spent many days In ranging the Park, th' Exchange, and th' Plays. For ne'er in my Rambles till now did I prove So lucky to meet with the man I could love. For oh, how I am pleased when I think of this man That I find I must love, let me do what I can. How long I shall love him I can no more tell, Than had I Favour when I should be well, My passion shall kill me before I will show it, And yet I would give all the world he did know it, But oh, how I sigh when I think he should woe me, I cannot deny what I know would undo me. Song. 43. SHall I lie wasting in despair, Die because a woman's fair? Or my cheeks make pale with care, 'Cause another's Rosy are? Be she fairer than the day, Or the flowery Meads in May, If she be not so to me, What care I how fair she be. Shall I mine affections slack, 'Cause I see a woman black, Or myself with care cast down, 'Cause I see a woman brown, Be she blacker than the night, Or the blackest Jet in sight, If she be not so to me, What care I how black she be. Shall my foolish heart be pined, 'Cause I see a woman kind, Or a well disposed Nature, Joined in a comely feature? Be she kind or meeker than Turtledove, or Pelican, If she be not so to me, What care I how kind she be. Shall my foolish heart be burst, 'Cause I see a woman cursed, Or a thwarting hoggish natu Joined in as bad a feature, Be she cursed or fiercer than Brutish beasts, or savage men, If she be not so to me, What care I how cursed she be. Shall a woman's Virtues make, Me to perish for her sake, Or her merits value known, Make me quite forget my own, Be she with that goodness blest, That may merit name of best, If she seem not so to me, What care I how good she be. Shall a woman's Vices make, Me her Virtues quite forsake, Or hsr faults to me made known, Make me think that I have none, Be she of the most accursed, And deserve the name of worst, If she be not so to me,. What care I how bad she be. 'Cause her Fortunes seem too high, Should I play the fool and die? He that bears a noble mind, If not outward help he find, Think what with them he would do, That without them dares to woe, And unless that mind I see, What care I how great she be. 'Cause her Fortunes seem too low, Shall I therefore let her go, He that bears an humble mind, And with Riches can be kind, Think how kind a heart he'd have, If he were some servile slave, And if that same mind I see, What care I how poor she be. Great, or good, or kind, or fair, I will ne'er the more despair, If she love, then believe, I can die, e'er she shall grieve; If she slight me when I woe, I can slight and bid her go, If she be not fit for me. What care I for whom she be. Poor, or bad, or cursed, or black, I will ne'er the more be slack, If she hate me, then believe, She shall die e'er I will grieve, If she like me when I woe, I can like and love her too, For if she be fit for me, What care I what others be. Song 44. OH Chloris 'twas unkindly done, First to invade me with your eyes; And when my yielding heart was won, Then to begin your Tyrannies; The generous Lion straight grows meek, And gently spares the fawning chase, But the submissive wretch may seek In vain for pity from that face; Where while enchanting Sirens sing, Th' alured Mariner is wracked; So whirling gulfs destruction bring, And overwhelm what they attract, Song 45. HElp, help, O help, Divinity of Love, Or Neptune will commit a rape Upon my Chloris, she's on his bosom, And without a wonder cannot scape. See, see, the winds grow drunk with joy, and throngs So fast to see love's Argo, and the wealth it bears, That now the tackling, and the sails they tear, They fight, they fight, who shall convey Amintor's love into a bay, And hurl whole Sea's at one another, As if they would the welkin smother? Hold Bor●as, hold, he will not hear, The Rudder cracks, the Mainmast falls, The Pilot swears, the Skipper bawls, A shore of Clouds in darkness fall, To put out Chloris light withal; Ye Gods, where are ye, are ye all asleep, Or drunk with Nectar? why do you not keep A watch upon your Ministers of fate? Tie up the winds, or they will blow the Sea's To heaven, and drown your Deities. A calm, a calm, Miracle of love, The Sea-born Queen that sits above, Hath heard Ami●tor's cries, And Neptune now must lose his prize. Welcome, welcome, Chloris to the shore, Thou shalt go to Sea no more; We to Tempe's Groves will go, Where the calmer winds do blow, And embark our hearts together, Fearing neither Rocks, nor weather, But outride the storms of love, And for ever constant prove. Song. 46. NOw, now, Lucatia, now make haste, If thou wilt see how strong thou art, There needs but one frown more, to waste The whole remainder of my heart. Alas undone, to fate I bow my head, Ready to die, now die, And now, now, now, am dead. You look to have an Age of trial, ere you a Lover will repay, But my state brooks no more denial; I cannot this one minute stay. Alas undone, to fate I bow my head▪ Ready to die, now die, And now, now, now, am dead. Look in my wound, and see how cold, How pale and gasping my soul lies, Which Nature strives in vain to hold, Whilst winged with sighs, away it flies. Alas undone, to fate I bow my head. Ready to die, now die, And now, now, now, am dead. See, see, already Charon's Boat, Who grimly asks why all this stay? Hark how the Fatal Sister's shout, And now they call, Away, away; Alas Undone, to fate I bow my head, Ready to die, now die, And now, oh now, am dead. Song. 47. WHen as Leander young, was drowned, No heart by love received a wound, But on a rock himself sat by, There weeping superabundantly. His head upon his hand he laid, And sighing deeply, thus he said; Ah cruel Fate, and looking on't, Wept as he'd drown the Hellespont, And sure his tongue had more expressed, Had not his Tears, Had not his Tears, Had not his Tears forbade the rest. Song 48. OH! how I hate thee now, And myself too, For loving such a false, False thing as thee, Who hourly canst depart, From heart to heart, To take new habor, as thou didst in me; But when the world shall spy, And know thy shifts as well as I, They'll shut their hearts, and take thee in no more. They that can dwell with none must out of door. Thy pride hath overgrown, All this great Town, Which stoops, and bows, as low As I to you, Thy falsehood might support, All the new Court, Which shifts, and turns almost as oft as thou. But to express thee by, There's not an object low, or high, For 'twill be found when ere the measure's tried, Nothing can reach thy falsehood, but thy pride. Song 49. YOnder he goes, Takes Corns from your Toes, Cures the Gout, And all Woes; Call him hither, His skill I will try, Before I pass by, Or sure I shall die This weather: The reports of your fame Sir, Call you again Sir, Show your skill, or shame your face ever. Song 50. Hung sorrow cast, away care. Come l●t us drink up our Sack; They say it is good, To cherish the blood, And eke to strengthen the Back; 'Tis wine that makes the thoughts aspire, And fiills the body with heat, Besides 'tis good, If well understood, To fit a man for the Feat: Then call, And drink up all, The Drawer is ready to fill, A pox of Care, What need we to spare, My Father hath made his Will. Song 51. HAve you any work for a Tinker Mistress, Old Brass, old Pots, or Kettles, I'll mend them all with a Think, Terry-tink, And never hurt your Mettles. First let me have but a touch of your Ale, 'Twill steel me against cold weather, Or Tinker's Frieze, Or Vintners, Lees, Or Tobacco choose you whether: But of your Ale, Your Nappy Ale, I would I had a Ferkin. But I am old, And very very cold, And never wear a Jerkin. Song. 52. HAve you observed the Wench in the street, Sh'as scarce any Hose or Shoes to her feet, Yet she is very merry, and when she cries, she sings, I ha' hot coddlings, hot coddlings. Or have you ever seen or heard The Mortal with a Lion Tawny beard, He lives as merrily as any heart can wish, And still he cries buy a Brish, by a Brish. Since these are so merry, why should we take care? Musicians, like Chameleons must live by the air: Then le's be blithe and bonny, And no good meeting balk, For when we have no money, We shall find chalk. Song. 53. IF any so wise is, That Sack he dispises, Let him drink his small Beer and be sober, Whilst we drink Sack, and sing As if it were Spring, He shall droop like the trees in October. But be sure overnight, If this Dog do you bit●, You take it henceforth for a warning, Soon as out of your bed, To settle your head, Take a hair of his tail in the morning. And be not so silly, To follow old Lily, For there's nothing but Sack that can tune us; Let his Ne-assurseus, Be put in his Capcase, And sing Bi-bi-to-vi-num jejunus. Song 54. GOod Simon, how comes it your Nose looks so red, And your cheeks, and lips, look so pale? Sure the heat of your Toast, Your Nose did so Roast, When they were both soused in Ale: It shows like the spire, Of Paul's Steeple on fire, Each Ruby darts forth (such Lightning) slashes, While your face looks as dead, As if it were lead, And covered all o'er with Ashes. Now to heighten his colour, Yet fiill his pot fuller, And nick it not so with froth; Gramercy mine Host, It shall save thee a Toast: Sup Simon, for here is good broth. Song 55. HOw merrily looks The man that hath Gold; He seemeth but twenty, Though threescore year old? How nimble the Bee, That flieth about, And gathereth Honey, Within and without: But men without Money, And Boes without Honey, Are nothing better than Drones, Drones, etc. Song 56. GOod Susan be as secret as you can, You know your Master is a Jealous man, Though thou and I do mean no hurt or ill, ●et men take women in the worst sense still; And fear of Horns more grief in hearts hath bred, Than wearing Horns doth hurt a Cuckold's head. Song 57 THe wise men were but seven, Ne'er more shall be for me: The Muses were but nine, The Worthies three times three: And three merry Boys, and three merry Boys, And three merry Boys are we. The Virtues were but seven, And three the greater be, The Caesars they were twelve, And the fatal sisters three; And three merry Girls, and three merry Girls, And three merry Girls are we. Song 58. A Woman's Rule should be in such a fashion, Only to guide her Household, and her passion; And her obedience never out of season, So long as either Husband lasts or Reason. Ill fares the hapless Family that shows A Cock that's silent, and a Hen that Crows. I know not which live more unnatural lives, Obedient Husbands, or commanding Wives. Song 59 A Pox on the Gaoler, and on his fat Jowl; There's liberty lies in the bottom o'th' Bowl. A fig for what ever the Rascal can do, Our Dung'on is deep but our cups are so too. Then drink we around in despite of our Foes, And make our cold Iron cry clink in the close. Song 60. WHen Wives do hate the Husband's Friends, As Jealous of some ●earless ends, And still an Angry look she settles, As if of late she'd pissed on Nettles; Ware ho, ware ho, for then of force The Mare will prove the better Horse. When women will be ever nice, Foolish, proud, and manly wise, And their wanton Humour itches, To wear their Husband's widest Breeches: Ware ho, ware ho, for then of force The Mare will prove the better Horse. Song 61. IF she be not kind as fair, But peevish and unhandy, Leave her, she's only worth the care Of some spruce Jack-a-dandy. I would not have thee such an Ass, Hadst thou ne'er so much leisure, To sigh and whine for such a Lass, Who●e pride's above her pleasure. Make much of every buxom Girl, Which needs but little courting; Her value is above the pearl, That takes delight in sporting. A Catch 62. HE that will win a widow's heart, Must bear up briskly to her; She loves the Lad that's free and smart, But hates the formal Wooer. Song 63. LAdies, though to your conquering eyes Love owes his chiefest Victories, And borrows those bright Arms from you, With which he does the world subdue; Yet you yourselves are not above The Empire, nor the griefs of Love. Then wrack not Lovers with disdain, Lest Love on you revenge her pain; You are not free, because y'are fai●, The Boy did not his Mother spare. Beauty's but an offensive Dart, It is no Armour for the Heart. Song 64 PHillis, though your powerful charms Have forced me from my Caelia's Arms, That sure defence against all Powers, But those resistless eyes of yours. Think not your Conquest to maintain By rigour or unjust disdain, In vain fair Nymph, in vain you strive, For Love does seldom hope survive. My heart may languish for a time, While all your glories in their prime, May justify their cruelty, By the same force that conquered me. When Age shall come, at whose command Those Troops of Beauty's must disband: A Tyrant's strength once took away, What slave's so dull as to obey? Those threatening dangers to remove, Make me believe (at least) you love; Dissemble well, and by that art Preserve and govern still my heart. But if you'll choose another way, To save your Empire from decay, Oh then for ever fix your throne, Be kind, but kind to me alone. Song 65. A Myntas he once went astray, But now again hath found his way, Mad Lovers oft do please themselves, With noise and janglings of the Bells, And fancy there some warbling Note, As Echoing from a Mistress throat, And why disturbed then should they be, Since Love on Earth's our Deity? But those who reason do preserve, Make all things to their purpose serve, Taught then by that example, I Loves power now will soon defy, Although fond Cupid once prevailed His passions not on me entailed, No Son of his, I'll boldly say, I'm made of Steel and not of Clay. Hold, let me not this God despise, For fear he rob me of my eyes, His power subjects, and can destroy, I'll therefore stoop unto the Boy, By yielding to his moderate fire I may an easier way expire, So sweet a death gives us no pain, Whilst dying we revive again. Song 66. FAir Phydelia tempt no more, I can thy Beauty now no more adore, Nor offer to thy shrine, I serve a more Divine And greater far than you, Hark the Trumpet calls away, We must go, Lest the foe, Get the field, and win the day. Then march bravely on, Charge them in the Van. Our cause Gods is, Though the odds is Ten times ten to one. Tempt no more, I may not yield, Although thine eyes A Kingdom may surprise, Leave off thy wanton tales, The Highborn Prince of Wales Is mounted in the field, Where the Loyal Gentry flock, Though forlorn, Nobly born, Of a ne'er decaying Stock; Cavaliers be bold, Bravely keep your hold, He that loiters, Is by Traitors Merely bought and sold. One Kiss more, and so farewell, Fie, no more, I prithee fool give o'er, Why cloudst thou thus thy beams? I see by these extremes, A woman's heaven or hell: Pray the King enjoy his own, That the Queen May be seen, With her Babes on England's Throne, Rally up your men, One shall vanquish ten, Victory, we come to try Our Valour once again. Song 67. WEre Celia but as chaste as fair, How could I kiss the Snare, And never be Weary of my Captivity! But she's a whore, that cools my blood; Oh that she were less handsome, or more good. Would you believe that there can rest Deceit within that breast? Or that those eyes, Which look like friends, are only spies? But she's a whore, yet sure I lie, May there not be degrees of chastity? No no, what means that wanton smile, But, only to beguile? Thus did the first Of women make all men accursed: I for their fakes give women o'er, The first was false, the fairest was a whore. Song 68 THe morning doth waste, To the Meadows let's haste, For the Sun doth with glory shine on them; The Maidens must rake, Whilst the Haycocks we make, Then merrily tumble upon them. The envy of Court, Ne'er aims at our sport, For we live both honest and meanly▪ Their Ladies are fine, But to Venus incline, And our Lasses are harmless and cleanly. Then let us advance Ourselves in a Dance, And afterwards fall to our labour; No measure we meet, Nor Music so sweet To us, as a Pipe and a Tabor. Song 69. IN the merry month of May, On a morn by break of day, Forth I walked the Woods so wide, When as May was in her pride, There I spied all alone, Philliday and Coridon. Much ado there was I wot, He could love, but she could not, His love he said was ever true, Nor was mine e'er false to you. He said he had loved her long, She said love should do no wrong. Coridon would kiss her then, She said maids must kiss no men, Till they kiss for good and all, Then she made the shepherds call All the Gods to witness south, Ne'er was loved a fairer youth. Then with many a pretty Oath, As yea, and nay, and faith and troth, Such as silly shepherds use When they will not love abuse. Love that had been long deluded, Was with kisses sweet concluded. And Philliday with Garlands gay Was crowned the Lady of the May. Song 70. DOwn in a Garden sat my dearest love, Her skin more soft than down of Swan, More tender hearted than the Turtle Dove, And far more kind than bleeding Pelican; I courted her, she rose, and blushing said, Why was I born to live, and die a Maid▪ With that I plucked a pretty Marygold, Whose dewy leaves shut up when day is done, Sweeting (I said) arise, look, and behold, A pretty Riddle I'll to thee unfold. These leaves shut in as close as cloistered Nun, Yet will they open when they see the Sun. What mean you by this Riddle Sir, she said, I pray expound it: Then I thus began, Are not men made for Maids, and Maids for men? With that she changed her colour, and grew wan, Since now this Riddle you so well unfold, Be you the Sun, I'll be the S. Song 71. THe Pot, and the Pipe, The Cup, and the Can Have quite undone, quite undone, Many a Man. The Hawk, and the Hound, The Dice, and the Whore, Have quite undone, quite undone, Many a Score. Song 72. LOve is a sour delight, and sugared grief, A Sea of fears, and everlasting strife, A breach of Reason's Laws, a secret thief, A living death, a never dying life: A bane for souls, a scourge for noble wits, A deadly wound, a shaft that never hits. A Labyrinth of doubts, and idle lust, A raving Bird, a Tyrant most unjust; Yet mighty Love, regard not what I say, But blame the light that led my eyes astray; Yet hurt her not, lest I sustain the smart, Which am content to lodge in her my heart. Song 73. THen our Music is in prime, When our teeth keep triple time; Hungry notes are fit for Kneels, May frankness be, No quest to me, The bagpipe sounds, when that is swells. A mooting night brings wholesome smiles, When john an Oaks and john a Styles, Do grease the Lawyers Sati●. A Reading day, Frights French away, The Benchers dare speak Latin; He that's full doth Verse compose, Hunger deals in sullen Prose, Take notice and discard h●r. The empty Sp●t, Ne'er cherished wit, Minerva loves the Larder. First to Breakfast, then to Dine, Is to conquer Bellarmine; Distinctions than are budding, Old Suckliffs wit, Did never hit, But after his Bag-pudding. Song 74. WHy should I not dally (my Dear) in thine eye, And chase the dull hours away? He that lets such a fair opportunity fly, He loses his aim by delay, And its pity he ever should sip, Electar and Nectar that flows from thy lip. Upon thy fair Tresses (which Phoebus excel) My diligent fingers I'll twist; O there's my desire for ever to dwell, And I hope thou wilt never resist: And e'er and anon I will sip, Electar and Nectar that flows from thy lip. Upon thy fair Breasts I'll be mounted aloft, And there in my Chariot I'll feel The grain of thy Body more precious and soft Than the web of Arachne's wheel: And e'er and anon I will sip, Electar and Nectar that flows from thy lip. I'll wander abroad in thy veins, and I'll sack The Mazes of pleasure and love, The Garden of Venus it is in thy che●k, And thither my fancy shall move: And e'er and anon I will sip, Electar and Nectar that flows from thy lip. There upon the Lilies and Roses I'll light, And gather my sweets like the Bee: And I will not go far for a lodging at night, For surely the Hive shall be thee: And e'er and anon I will sip, Electar and Nectar that flows from thy lip. Where when I am hurled, my nest I will build, Of Honey-combs all in a rank; I'll buzz in each corner until it be filled, And make thee more full in the flank: And e'er and anon I will sip, Electar and Nectar that flows from thy lip. Come then with a Cornish let us combine, (I know thou canst easily do't) Thou shalt take my heart, and I will take thine, And I'll give thee my hand to boot: And e'er and anon I will sip, Electar and Nectar that flows from thy lip. Song 75. ALL in vain, Turn again, Why should I love her? Since she can Love no man, I will give over. I'll not stay To obey, But will retire. Why should I Thither fly, And not enjoy her? Let her still Please her will, With a denial; She shall be Unto me, As a Sundial. Let her blood Raise the mud, All in good season; I'll not gaze On her face, Till I have reason. Song 76. HOw happy and free is the plunder, When we care not for jove, nor his thunder, Having entered a Town, The Lasses go down, And to their O're-comers lie under. Why then should we study to love, and look pale, And make long Addresses to what will grow stale? If her fingers be soft, long, and slender, When once we have made her to render, She will handle a Flute, Better far than a Lute, And make what was hard, to grow tender. Then why should we study to love, and look pale, And make long Addresses to what will grow stale? If her hair of the delicate brown is, And her belly as soft as the Down is, She will fire your heart, In performing her part, With a flame that more hot than the Town is. Why then should we study to love, and look pale, And make long Addresses to what will grow stale? When the houses with flashes do glitter, We can sever our sweets from the bitter, And in that bright night, We can take our delight, No Damsel shall scape but we'll hit her. Why then should we study to love and look pale, And make long Addresses, but never prevail? Song 77. I'm sick of love, Oh let me lie Under your shades to sleep, or die; Either is welcome so I may have, Or here my bed, or here my grave. Why do you sigh, and sob, and keep Time to my tears, whilst I do weep; Can you have sense, or do you prove, What crucifixions are in love? I know you do, and that's the why, Y'are weeping sick of love as I. Catch 78. THere was three Cooks of Colebrook, And they fell out with our Cook, And all was for a Pudding they took, From one of the Cooks of Colebrook. Slash Cook, Swash Cook, And thou mayst kiss mine Arse Cook, And all was for a Pudding they took, From one of the Cooks of Colebrook. And they fell all on our Cook. And beat him sore that he did look, As black as did the Pudding he took, From one of the Cooks of Colebrook. Song 79. LAst night I dreamt of my love, When sleep did overtake her, It was a pretty drowsy Rogue, She slept I durst not wake her. Her lips were like to Coral red, A thousand times I kissed 'em, And a thousand more I might hare stolen, For she had ne'er a missed 'um. Her crisped Locks like threads of Gold, Hung dangling o'er the Pillow, Great pity 'twas, that one so fair, Should wear the Rainbow willow. I folded down the Holland sheet, A little below her belly, But what I did, you ne'er shall know, Nor is it meet to tell ye. Her Belly's like to yonder Hill, Some call it Mount of Pleasure, And underneath there springs a Well, Which no man's depth can measure. Song 80. I Feed a flame within, Which so torments me, That it both pains my heart, And yet contents me; 'Tis such a pleasing smart, And I so love it, That I had rather die, Than once remove it; Yet he for whom I grieve, Shall never know it, My tongue does not betray, Nor my eyes show it: Not a sigh, nor a tear, My pain discloses, But they fall silently, Like Dew of Roses. But to prevent my Love From being cruel, My Heart's the Sacrifice, As 'tis the Fuel; And while I suffer this, To give him quiet, My faith rewards my love, Though he deny it. On his eyes I will gaze, There to delight me, Whilst I conceal my love, No frowns can fright me; Nor to be more happy I dare not aspire, Nor can I fall more low, Mounting no higher. Song 81. FLy, Oh fly, sad sighs, and hear These few words into her ear, Blest where ere thou dost remain, Worthier of a softer chain, Still I live, if it be true, The turtle lives, that's cleft in two, Tears and sorrows I have store, But, Oh thine, do grieve me more; Die I would, but that I do Fear my fate would kill thee too. Song 82. ALl the materials are the same Of Beauty and Desire, In a fair woman's goodly frame, No Beauty is without a flame, No flame without a fire. Then tell me what those creatures are, That would be thought both chaste & fair. If modesty itself appear, With blushes in her face, Think then the blood that danceth there, Must revel in some other where, To warm some other place. Then tell me, etc. If on her neck her hair be spread, With many a curious Ring; Why sure that heat that curls the head, Will make her mad to be in bed, And do the other thing. Then tell me, etc. Go ask but the Philosopher, What gives her lips the Balm; What spirit gives motion to her eye, Which makes her breast to swell so high, And gives moisture to her Palm. Then tell me what those Creatures are. That would be thought both chaste and fair. Song 83. 'TIs true, fair Celia, that by thee I live, That every kiss, and every fond embrace, Forms a new Soul within me, and doth give A Balsam to the wound, made by thy face; Yet still methinks I miss That Bliss, Which Lovers dare not name, And only then described is, When flame doth meet with flame. Those favours which do bless me every day, Are yet but empty and Platonical; Think not to please your servants with half pay, Good Gamesters never stick to throw at all. Who can endure to miss That Bliss, Which Lovers dare not name, And only then described is, When flame doth meet with flame. If all those sweets within you must remain, Unknown and ne'er enjoyed, like hidden treasure▪ Nature as well as I will lose her name, And you as well as I your youthful pleasure. We wrong ourselves to miss That Bliss, Which Lovers dare not name, And only then described is, When flame doth meet with flame. Our souls which long have peeped at one another, Out of the narrow Casements of our eyes, Shall now by love conducted meet together, And in their mutual pleasures sympathise. Then, than we shall not miss That Bliss, Which Lovers dare not name, And only then described is, When flame doth meet with flame. Song 84. I Keep my Horse, I keep my Whore, I take no Rents, yet am not poor; I travel all the Land about, And yet was born to never a foot: With Partridge plump, and Woodcock fine, I do at midnight often dine, And if my whore be not in case, My Hostess Daughter has her place. The maids sit up and watch their turns, If I stay long the Tapster mourns. The Cookmaid has no mind to sin, Though tempted by the Chamberlain; But when I knock, Oh how they bustle! The Ostler yawns, the Geldings justle; If maid but sleep, Oh how they curse her, And all this come of, deliver your Purse Sir. Song 85. I Wi' not go to't, I must not go to 't, For love, not yet for see, For I am a maid, and will be a maid, And a good one till I dye; Yet mine intent I could repent, For one man's Company. Song 86. HE that marries a merry Lass, He has most cause to be sad; For let her go free in her merry tricks, She'll work his patience mad. But he that marries a scold, a scold, He has most cause to be merry; For when she's in her fits, He may cherish his wits, With singing heigh down derry. He that weds a roaring Girl, That will both scratch and fight; Though he study all day, To make her away Will be glad to please her at night. And he that copes with a sullen wench, That scarce will speak at all; Her doggedness more, Than a Scold or a Whore, Will penetrate his gall. He that's matched with a Turtle Dove, That has no spleen about her; Shall waste so much life, In love of his wife, He had better be without her. Catch 87. THe parched earth drinks the rain, Trees drink off that again; Rivers the Sea's do quaff, Sol drinks the Ocean off, And when that health is done, Pale Cynthia drinks the Sun. Friends, why do ye chide, And stern my drinking tide? Thinking to make me sad, I will, I will be mad. Song 88 COmmit thy ship unto the wind, But not thy faith to womankind; There is more safety in the wave, Than in the trust that women have. There is none good; yet if it fall Some one prove good among them all, Some strange intents the Fates have had, To make a good thing of a bad. Song 89. LIke to the falling of a star, Or as the flight of Eagles are, Or like the fresh Springs gaudy hue, Or silver Drops of Morning dew; Or like a wind that chaffes the flood, Or Bubbles which on water stood; Even such is man whose borrowed light, Is strait called in, and paid to Night: The Wind blows out, the Bubble dies, The Spring entombed in Autumn lies: The Dew's dried up, the Star is shot, The Flight is past, and man forgot. Song 90. LIke a Ring without a finger, Or a Bell without a Ringer, Like a Horse was never ridden, Or a feast and no Guest bidden; Like a well without a Bucket, Or a Rose, if no man pluck it: Just such as these may she be said, That lives, ne'er loves, but dies a maid. The Ring, if worn, the finger decks, The Bell pulled by the Ringer speaks. The Horse doth ease, if he be ridden, The Feast doth please, if Guest be bidden; The Bucket draws the water forth, The Rose when plucked, is still more worth: Such is the Virgin in my eyes, That lives, loves, marries, ere she dies. Like to a Stock not grafted on, Or like a Lute not played upon. Like a Jack without a weight, Or a Bark without a freight; Like a Lock without a Key, Or a Candle in the day: Just such as these may she be said, That lives, ne'er loves, but dies a maid. The graffed Stock doth bear best fruit, There's music in the fingered Lute. The Weight doth make the Jack go ready, The Fraight doth make the Bark go steady; The Key the Lock doth open right, The Candle's useful in the night: Such is the Virgin in my eyes, That lives, loves, marries, ere she dies. Like a Call without Anon Sir, Or a Question and no Answer. Like a Ship was never rigged, Or a Mine was never digged; Like a Wound without a Tent, Or Silver Box without a Scent: Just such us these may she be said, That lives, ne'er loves, but dies a maid. Th' Anon Sir, doth obey the Call, The civil Answer pleaseth all; Who rigs a Ship, sails with the wind, Who digs a Mine doth Treasure find; The Wound by wholesome Tent hath ease, The Box perfumed, the senses please: Such is the Virgin in my eyes, That lives, loves, marries, ere she dies. Like Marrowbone was never broken, Or Commendations, and no Token; Like a Fort, and none to win it, Or like the Moon, and no man in it; Like a School, without a Teacher, Or like a Pulpit, and no Preacher: Just such as these may she be said, That lives, ne'er loves, but dies a maid. The broken Marrowbone is sweet, The Token doth adorn the Greet; There's Triumph in the Fort, being won, The man rides glorious in the Moon; The School is by the Teacher stilled, The Pulpit by the Preacher filled; Such is the Virgin in my eyes, That lives, loves, marries, ere she dies. Like a Cage without a Bird, Or a thing too long deferred; Like the Gold was never tried, Or the Ground unoccupied; Like a House that's not possessed, Or the Book was never pressed: Just such as these may she be said, That lives, ne'er loves, but dies a maid. The Bird in Cage doth sweetly sing, Due season sweetens every thing; The Gold that's tried from dross is pured, There's profit in the Ground manured; The House is by possession graced, The Book well pressed is most embraced: Such is the Virgin in my eyes, That lives, loves, marries, ere she dies. Song 91. THe Wit hath long beholden been Unto the Cap to keep it in; Let now the Wit ●lie out amain, In praise, to quit the Cap again. The Cap that ow● the highest part, Obtained that place by due desert. For every Cap (whatever it be) Is still the sign of some degree. The Cap doth stand (each Head can show) Above the Crown, the King's below; The Cap is nearer Heaven than we, A sign of greater Majesty: When off the Cap we chance to take, The Head and Feet obeisance make; For every Cap (whatever it be) Is still the sign of some degree. The Munmouth Cap, the Sailor's Thrum, And that wherein the Tradesmen come, The Physic, Law, the Cap Divine, And that which crow●s the Muses Nine, The Caps that fools do countenance, The goodly Cap of Maintenance, And every Cap, &c, The sickly Cap both plain and wrought, The Fuddling Cap, however bought, The quilted, furred, the Velvet, Satin, For which so many fools learn Latin: The Cruel Cap, the ●ustian Fate, The Periwig, a Cap of late, And every Cap, etc. The Soldier that the Munmouth wear, On Castle-tops their Ensigns rear; The Seaman with his Thrum doth stand On higher parts than all the land; The Tradesman's Cap aloft is born, By vantage of (some say) a Horn And ev●ry Cap, etc. The Physic Cap to dust can bring, Without control, the greatest King; The Lawyer's Cap hath heavenly might, To make a crooked Action right, Which being round and endless knows To make as endless any Cause. Thus every Cap, etc. Both east and west, both north and south, Where e'er the Gospel finds a mouth, The Cap Divine doth thither look; 'tis square like Scholars and their Book, The rest are round, but this is square, To show their heads, more stable are. Thus every Cap, &c, The Mortly Cap a man may wear, Which makes him f●llow for a Peer, And 'tis no slender part of wit, To act a fool where great men fit. But oh the Cap of London Town, I wis 'tis like a Giant's Crown. Thus every Cap, etc. The sickly Cap not wrought with silk, Is like Repentance white as milk; When Hats in Church drop off in haste, This never leaves the Head uncased; The sick man's Cap that's wrought can tell, Though he be sick, his state is well. Thus every Cap, etc. The Fuddling cap by Bacchus' might, Turns night to day, and day to night; It Jove-like makes proud heads to bend, And lowly facts makes to asend; It makes men higher than before, By seeing double all their store. Thus every Cap, etc. This rounds the world within the brain, And makes a Monarch of a Swain; When it is on our heads, we be Completely Armed Cap-a-pee: The fur'd and quilted Cap of Age, Can make a mouldy Proverb sage. Thus every Cap, etc. The Satin and the Velvet Hive, Unto a Bishopric doth drive; Nay when a File of Capsy are seen in, A square, then th●s, and next a linen. This triple Cap may raise some hope (If fortune smile) to be a Pope. Thus every Cap, etc. Though Fustian Caps be slender wear, The head is of no better gear; The Cruel Cap is knit, like Hose, For them whose zeal takes cold i'th' Nose, Whose Purity doth think it meet, To clothe alike th● head and feet. This Cap would fain, but cannot be The only sign of no degree. The Periwig, oh, that declares The rise of Flesh, but fall of Hairs; And none but Grandees can proceed So far in sin, that this they need, Before their Prince, which covered are, And only to themselves go bare. This Cap of all the Caps that be, Is now the sign of high degree. Song 91. CAst our Caps and Care away, This is Beggar's Holiday, In the world look out and see, Where's so happy a King as he? At the Crowning of our King, Thus we ever dance and sing, where's the Nat'on lives so free, And so merry as do we? Be it Peace, or be it War, Here at liberty we are, Hang all Officers, we cry, And the Magistrates too by. We enjoy our ease and rest, To the fields we are not pressed. When the Subsidy's increased, We are not a penny ceased; Nor are called into the Town, To be troubled with a Gown; Nor will any go to law With a Beggar for a straw. All which happiness he brags, He doth owe unto his rags. Song 93. I Loved a Lass a fair one, As fair as e'er was seen, She was indeed a rare one, Another Sheba Queen. But fool as then I was, I thought she loved me too, But now alas sh'as l●ft me, Falero, lero, loo. Her hair like gold did glister, Each eye was like a star, She did surpass her sister, Which past all others far, ●he would me Honey call, ●he'd, oh, she'd kiss me too, ●ut now alas sh'as left me, Falero, lero, loo. 〈◊〉 summer time to Medley ●y love and I would go, ●he Boat-man he stood ready, My Love and I to row; For Cream there would we call. For Wine and Cheesecakes too, But now alas, etc. Many a merry Meeting My Love and I have had; She was my only Sweeting, She made my heart full glad, The tears stood in her eyes, Like to the Morning-dew, But now alas, etc. And when abroad we walked, As Lover's fashion is, Oft as we sweetly talked, The sun would steal a Kiss; The wind upon her lips Likewise most sweetly blue, But now alas, etc. Her cheeks were like the Cherry, Her Skin as white as snow, When she was blithe and merry, She Angle-like did show: Her Waste exceeding small, The Five did fit her shoe, But now alas, etc. In Summer time, or Winter, She had her hearts desire, I still did scorn to stint her, From Sugar, Sack, or Fire; The world went round about, No cares we ever knew, But now alas, etc. As we walked home together, At midnight through the town, To keep away the weather, O'er her I'd cast my Gown, No cold my Love should feel, What e'er the Heavens could do, But now alas, etc. Like Doves we would be billing, And clip and kiss so fast; Yet she would be unwilling, That I should kiss the last, They're Judas Kisses now, Since she hath proved untrue, For now alas, etc. To Maiden's Vows and Swearing, Henceforth no credit give, You may give them the hearing, But never them believe; They are as false as fair, Unconstant, frail, untrue, For mine alas, etc. If ever Madam Nature, For this false Lover's sake, Another loving creature, Like unto her would make, Let her remember this, To make the other true, For this alas, etc. No riches now can raise me, No want makes me despair, No misery amaze me, Nor yet for want I care: I have lost a world itself. My Earthly Heaven adieu, Since she alas hath left me, Falero, lero, loo. Song 94. BE not proud, pretty one, for I must love thee, Thou art fair, but unkind, yet dost thou move me, Red are thy lips and checks like rosy blushes, The flame that's from thine eyes, burns me to ashes. And on thy breast, the place of Love's abiding, Sits Cupid now enthroned, my pains deriding. Song 95. THe silver Swan, who living had no note Till death approached and locked her silent throat, Leaning her breast against a ●eedy shore She sung her first and last, and sung no more. Farewell all joys, oh Death come close my eyes, More geese than swans now live, more fools than wise. Song 96. On Cupid. CVpid's no God, a wanton Child, His Art's too weak, his Powers too mild; No active heat, nor noble fire, Feathers his Arrows with desire. 'Tis not his Bow or Shaft, 'tis Venus' Eye, Makes him ado●'d, and crowns his Deity. Song 97. MY Lodging it is on the cold ground, And very hard is my fare, But that which troubles me most, is The unkindness of my Dear, Yet still I cry, O turn Love, And I prithee Love turn to me, For thou art the man that I long for, And alack what remedy. I'll crown thee with Garlands of straw then, And I'll marry thee with a Rush Ring. My frozen hopes shall thaw then, And merrily we will sing, Oh turn to me my dear Love, And I prithee Love turn to me, For thou art the man that alone canst, Procure my liberty. But if thou will harden thy heart still, And be deaf to my pit full moan, Then I must endure the smart still, And tumble in straw all alone, Yet still I cry, Oh turn Love, And I prithee Love turn to me, For thou art the man that alone art The cause of my misery. Song 98. AMong Rosebuds slept a Bee, Waked by Love who could not see, His soft finger that was stung, Then away poor Cupid flung; First he ran, then flew about, And to Venus thus cried out: Help, Mother help, Oh I'm undone, A Scorpion hath stung her Son. 'Twas a serpent, it could fly, For't had wings as well as I; Country swains call this a Bee, But oh this hath mu●thered me. Son, said Venus, if the sting, Of a Fly such torment bring, Think, oh think on all those hearts, Pierced by thy burning darts. Song 96. HE deserved much better than so, In the thick Woods to be lost, Where the Nut-trees grew so low, As if they had been nipped with the Frost, Oh whither, whither, my Love dost thou go? Song 100 ABout the sweet bag of a Bee, Two Cupids fell at odds; And whose the pretty prize should be They vowed to ask the Gods: Which Venus hearing thither came, And for their boldness stripped them, And taking thence from each his flame, With rods of Myrtle whipped them; Which done, to still their wanton cries, And quiet grown she had seen them, She kissed and dried their Dovelike eyes, And gave the Bag between them. Song 101. See, See, CHloris, my Chloris, comes in yonder bark, Blow gently winds, for if ye sink that Ark, You'll drown the world with tears, and at one breath, Give to us all an universal death: Hark, hark, how Arion on a Dolphin plays, To my sweet Shepherdess his Roundelays: See how the Syreus flock to wait upon her, As Queen of Love, and they her Maids of Honor. Behold great Neptune's risen from the deep, With all his Tritons, and begins to sweep The rugged waves into a smother form, Not leaving one small wrinkle of a storm. Mark how the winds stand still, and on her gaze, See how her beauty doth the fish amaze; The Whales have begged this boon of wind and weather, That on their backs they may convey her thither. And see she Lands just like the rising Sun, That leaves the bryny lake when night is done: Fly, fly, Amintor to thy envied bliss, And let not th' earth rob thee of her greeting Kiss. Song 102. ALas poor Cupid art thou blind? Canst not thy bow and Arrows find? Thy Mother sure the wanton plays, And lays 'em up for Holy days. Then Cupid mark how kind I'll be, Because thou once wert so to me; I'll arm thee with such powerful darts, Shall make thee once more God of hearts. My Chloris arms shall be thy Bow, Wh●●h none but Love can bend you know; He● precious hairs shall make the string, Which of themselves wound every thing. Then take but arrows from her eyes, And all you shoot at surely dies. Song 103. BRing back my comfort, and return; For well th●u knowst that I, that I, In such a vigorous passion burn. That missing thee, I die; Return, return, insult no more, Return, return, and me restore, To those sequestered joys I had before. Song 104. I Love thee for thy fickleness, And grant inconstancy; For hadst thou been a constant Lass, Then thou hadst ne'er loved me. I love thee for thy wantonness, And for thy Drollery; For if thou hadst not loved sport, Then thou hadst ne'er loved me. I love thee for thy Poverty, And for thy want of Coin; For if thou hadst been worth a Groat, Then thou hadst ne r been mine. I love thee for thy ugliness, And for thy foolery; For if thou hadst been fair, or wise, Then thou hadst ne'er loved me. Then let me have thy heart a while, And thou shalt have my money, I'll part with all the wealth I have, T' enjoy a Lass so bonny. Song 105. THy love is cha●te, they tell thee so, But how young Soldier shalt thou know? Do by her, As by thy Sword, Take no friends word, But try her; 'Twill raise her Honour one step higher, Fame has her trial at Love's bar, Deified Venus from a Star, Shoots her lustre; She had never been Goddessed, If Mars had been modest: Try and trust her. Song 106. DRink to me Boy, Here's to thee Boy, A Health t' our Master, A nobler never obeyed I; Couple him with my Lady, Never man had a chaster; Match the Viceroy as even, With his Royal Creator, To the King bless him Heaven, And a Pox take the Traitor. Song 107. A Dialogue between the Evening and a Boy. Evening I Am the Evening dark as night, Jack-with-the-lanthorn, bring a light, jack Whither? Whither? Whither? Evening, Hither, hither, hither. jack. Thou art some prattling echo of my making. Evening. Thou art a foolish fire by thy mistaking. I am the Evening that creates thee, jack. My Lantern and my Candle waits thee. Evening. Those Flajolets which we hear play, Are Reapers who have lost their way, They play, they sing, they dance a round, Led them up, here's Fairy ground. Chorus Let the men beware the Ditches, Maids look to your Breeches; We'll scratch them with Briars and Thistles, When the Flajolets cry We are a dry, Pond-water shall wet their whistels. Song 108. THis is not the Elysian Grove, Nor can I meet my slaughtered love Within these shades, come death and be At last as merciful to me, As in my dearest Dear loves fall, Thou show'dst thyself Tyrannical. Then did I die when he was slain, But kill me now, I live again; And shall go meet him in a Grove, ●airer than any here above. Oh let this woeful life expire, Why should I wish Evadne's fire, Sad Portia's Doals, or Lucrece Knife, To rid me of a loathed life? 'Tis shame enough, that grief alone, Kill me not now, when thou art gone, But life since thou art slow to go, I'll punish thee for lasting so, And make thee piece-meal every day, Dissolve to tears and melt away. Song 109. CHloris when e'er you do intend, To venture at a bosom friend, Be sure you know your servant well, Before your liberty you sell, For loves a fever in young or old, Is sometimes hot, and sometimes cold, And men you know when ere they please, Can soon be sick of this disease; Then wisely choose a friend that may, Last for ●n Age, not for a day, That loves thee not for lip or eye, But for a mutual Sympathy: To such a friend thy heart engage, For he will court thee in old age, And kiss thy hollow wrinkled brow, With as much joy as he does know. Song 110. THe Master, the Swabber, the Boatswain, and I, The Gunner and his Mate, Loved Mall, Meg, and Marina and Margery, But none of us cared for Kate, For she has a tongue with a tang, Would cry to a Sailor go hang, She loved not the savour of Tar, nor of Pitch, Yet a Sailor might scratch her where ere she did itch▪ Then to Sea boys, and let her go hang. Song 111. BRight Aurel a, I do owe All the Woe, I can know, To those glorious looks alone, Though you are unrelenting stone: The quick lightning from your eyes, Did sacrifice, My unwise, My unweary harmless heart, And now you glory in my smart. How unjustly you do blame, That pure flame. From you came? Vexed with what yourself may burn Your scorns to tinder did it turn. The least spark now love can call, That does fall, On the small Scorched remainder of my heart, Will make it burn in every part. Song 112. BEauty and Love once fell at odds, And thus reviled each other; Quoth Love, I am one of the Gods, And you wait on my Mother; Thou hast no power o'er men at all, But what I gave to thee; Nor art thou longer fair or sweet, Than men acknowledge me. Away fond Boy, than Beauty said, We see that thou art blind; But men have knowing eyes, and can My graces better find; 'Twas I begot thee, mortals know, And called thee Blind desire; I made the Arrows and thy Bow, And wings to kindle fire. Love here in anger flew away, And straight to Vulcan prayed, That he would tip his shafts with scorn, To punish this proud maid; So Beauty ever since hath been But courted for an hour. To love a day, is now a sin, Against Cupid and his power. Song 112. BRightest, since your pitying eye, Saves whom it once condemned to die; Whom lingering time did long dismay, You have relieved in this short day. Propitious Gods themselves can do no more, Slow to destroy, but active to restore. From your fair, but absent look, Cold death her pale Artillery took, Till gentle Love that dart suppressed And lodged a milder in your breast; Like famed Achilles mystic spear, thus you, Both scatter wounds, and scatter balsam too. Song 113. LOve and wenching are toys, And at best but vain joys, Fit to please beardless boys, That sigh and pule till they are weary; When they visit their misses, And boast of their kisses, I'll not envy their blisses, While Virtue consists in Canary. Song 114. DIsputes daily arise, and errors grow bolder▪ Philosophers prattle and so does the sizer, The more we should know then by being the older, But plainlyed appears there's no body wiser: He that spends what he has, and wisely drinks all, 'Tis he is the man Ma-the-ma-ti-cal. Song 115. WHere the Bee sucks, there suck I, In a Cowslips Bell I lie; There I crouch when Owls do cry, On the Bats back I do fly, After Summer merrily. Merrily, merrily, shall I live now, Under the blossom that hangs on the bow. Song 116. WHo is Silvia? What is she? That all our Swains commend her? Holy, fair, and wise is she, The Heaven such g●●ce did lend her, That she might admired be. Is she kind, as she is fair? For beauty lives with kindness, Love doth to her eyes repair, To help him of his blindness, And being helped inhabits there: Then to Silvia let us sing, That Silvia is excelling; She surmounts each mortal thing, Upon the dull earth dwelling, To her let us garlands bring. A Drinking Catch, or Song 117. HE that will look for a Swallows nest, A swallows nest, a swallows nest, Must look in the Chimney high, And he that would look for a minikin Lass: And a trimmikin Lass, and a tinnikin Lass: Must choose her by her black eye, And he that will fish for frogs, Must fish all in this well, And all those, That will fuddle their nose, That will fuddle their nose, Must come where good Alo's to sell. Song 118. YOu spotted Snakes with double tongue, Thorny Hedgehogs be not seen; Newts and Blind-worms do no wrong, Come not near our fairy Queen. Philomele with melody, Sing in your sweet lullaby; Never harm, Nor spell, nor charm, Come our lovely Lady nigh, So good night with lullaby. Weaving Spiders come not here, Hence you long-leged Spiders hence, Beetles black approach not near; Worm nor Snail, do no offence. Philomele with melody, etc. Hence away, now all is well, One aloof, stand Sentinel. Song 119. TEll me, where is Fancy bred, Or in the heart, or in the head? How begot? how nourished? It is engendered in the eyes, With gazing fed, and Fancy dies In the Cradle where it lies: Let us all ring Fancy's Knell, Ding, Dung, Bell, Ding, Dung, Bell. Song 120. YOu that choose not by the view, Chance as fair, and choose as true; Since this fortune falls to you, Be content, and seek no new▪ If you be well pleased with this, And hold your fortune for your bliss; Turn you where your Lady is, And claim her with a loving Kiss. Song 121. UNder the Green-wood tree, Who love● to lie with me, And turn his merry Note, Unto the sweet Birds throat; Come hither, come hither, come hither, Here shall he see No enemy, But Winter and rough weather. Who doth Ambition shun, And loves to live i'th' Sun, Seeking the food he eats, And pleased with what he gets; Come hither, come hither, come hither, Here shall he see No enemy, But Winter and rough weather. Song 122. WHat shall he have that killed the Deer? His Leather-skin and Horns to wear, Then sing him home, the rest shall bear this burden, Take thou no scorn, To wear the Horn, It was a Crest ere thou wast born, Thy Father's Father wore it, And thy Father bore it: The Horn, the Horn, the lusty Horn, Is not a thing to laugh to scorn. Song 123. WEdding is great Juno's Crown, O blessed bond of board and bed; 'Tis Hymen peoples every Town, High Wedlock then be honoured: Honour, high Honour and Renown, To Hymen God of every Town. Song 124. A Tripe well broiled cannot be ill, Broil her hot, burn her not, Turn the Tripe Gill, For a Tripe well broiled cannot be ill. Song 125. HOw long shall I pine for love? How long shall I sue in vain? How long like the Turtle-Dove, Shall I heavily thus complain? Shall the sails of my love stand still? Shall the grifts of my hope be unground? Oh fie, oh fie, oh fie, Let the mill, let the mill go round, Think me still, In my Father's mill, Where I have oft been founda, Thrown on my back, On a well filled sack, While the mill has still gone round-a: Prithee Sirrah try thy skill, And again let the mill go round-a. The young one, the old one, The fearful, the bold one, The lame one, though ne'er so unsound-a, The Jew, and the Turk, Have leave for to work, The whilst that the mill goes round-a. Song 126. TAke her and hug her, Then turn her and tug her, And turn her again Boy, again; Then if she mumble, Or if her tail grumble, Kiss her amain Boy, amain: Do thy endeavour, To take off her fever, Then her disease no longer will reign. If nothing will serve her, Then thus to preserve her, Swinge her amain Boy, amain; Give her cold Jelly, To take up her belly, And once a day Swinge her again, If she stand all these pains, Then knock out her brains, Her disease no longer will reign. Song 127. COme fill with wine this lusty bowl, 'Twil scatter sorrows from my soul, 'Twil stif●le care that inward foe, 'Tis the Antipodes to woe, 'Twil rescue old age from the grave, 'Twil make a Fr●eman of a Slave, 'Twil vigour and ripe fancy bring, ▪ 'twil hoist a Beggar to a King. Lo how it glows and sparkles there, Brighter than a spangled sphere, And how it bubbles from the deep, Leaping to surprise my lip, Rich juice, since thou dost court my taste, I'll meet a kiss with equal haste, Go then, go mingle with my blood, Thus swallow I thy wealthy flood, 'Tis vanished, and I see the shore, Not wasted thither by an Oar; Oh fill't again, and ●ill it high, Oh let me be but drunk and die. Seas heaped on Seas cannot assuage This eager thirst, this violent rage; Were half the Globe filled to the top, I'd drink't, and eat the earth for sop, But hah by all the Gods ●reel, My Brain is Traitor to my will; My Vitals stop, my spirits sink, Come then I'll sleep, and dream of drink. We that Bacchus do adore, Chor. Envy not the Miser's store; Nor the charms, nor sweets of Love, Nor the state of Gods above. Song 128. 'TIs late and cold, stir up the fire, Sat close and draw the Table nigher; Be merry, and drink wine that's old, A hearty Medicine against a Cold: Your Beds of wanton Down the best, Where you shall tumble to your rest; I could wish you Wenches too, But I am dead, and cannot do: Call for the best, the House may ring, Sack, White, and Claret let them bring; And drink apace while breath you have, Youl'l find but cold drink in the Grave: Plover, Partridge for your Dinner, And a Capon for the sinner, You shall find ready when you are up, And your Horse shall have his sup▪ Welcome, welcome, are ye all, From Master high, to servant small. Song 129. COme let us be friends, and most friendly agree, For the Pimp, the Punk, & the Doctor are three, Which cannot but thrive when united they be. The Pimp brings in custom, the Punk she gets treasure, Of which the Physician is sure of his measure, For work which she makes him in sale of her pleasure; For which when she fails by Diseases and Pain, The Doctor new Vamps, and Upsets her again. Song 130. FEar not (Dear Love) that I'll reveal Those hours of pleasure we two steal, No eye shall see, nor yet the Sun Descry what thou and I have done; No ear shall hear our love, but we Silent as the night will be. The God of Love himself (whose Dart Did first wound mine, and then thy heart) Shall never know that we can tell, What sweets in stolen embraces dwell. This only means may find it out, If when I die, Physicians doubt What caused my death, and there to view, Of all their Judgements which was true; Rip up my heart, Oh then I fear The world will see thy Picture there. Song 131. ARm, arm, arm, arm, the Scouts are all come in, Keep your Ranks close, & now your Honours win; Behold from yonder Hill the Foe appears, Bows, Bills, Glaves, Arrows, Shields, Swords, Pikes, and Spears, Like a dark Wood he comes, or Tempest pouring, O view the Wings of Horse the Meadows scouring: The Vanguard marches bravely, hark the Drums-Dub-dub, They meet, they meet, and now the Battle comes: See how the Arrows fly, That darken all the Sky, Hark how the Trumpets sound, Hark how the Hills abound,— Tara— tara— tara. Hark how the Horses charge, In boys, In boys, in Tara— tara. The Battle totters; Now the wounds begin, O how they cry, O how they die▪ Room for the valiant Memnon armed with thunder, See how he breaks the Ranks asunder! They fly, they fly, Eumenes has the Chase, And brave Polybius makes good his place, To the Plains, to the Woods. To to the Rocks, to the Floods They fly for succour, follow, follow, follow.— hay, hay, Hark how the Soldiers hollow, Brave Diocles is dead, And all his soldiers fled, The battle's won, and lost, That many a life hath cost. Song 131. A Curse upon thee for a slave, Art thou here, and heardst me rave? Fly not sparkles from mine eye, To show my indignation nigh? Am I not all foam and fire? With voice as hoarse as a Town crier; How my back opes and shuts together, With fury, as old men's with weather, Couldst thou not hear my teeth knack hither, Thou nasty, scurvy, mongrel Toad, Mischief on thee, light upon thee, All the plagues that can confound thee, Or did ever reign abroad: Better a thousand lives it cost, Than have brave Anger spilt or lost. Song 133. PEace and silence be the guide To the Man, and to the Bride: If there be a Joy yet new In marriage, let it fall on you, That all the world may wonder▪ If we should stay, we should do worse, And turn our blessings to a curse, By keeping you asunder. Another 134. JO Hymen, Jo Hymen, Jo Hymen, Was wont to be still the old Song, At high Nuptial Feasts, Where the merry merry merry Guests With joy and good and wishes did throng: But to this new Wedding, new notes do I bring, To rail at thee Hymen, while sadly I sing. Fie o Hymen, fie o Hymen, fie o Hymen, What hands and what hearts dost thou knit? A widow that's poor, And a very very whore, To an Heir that wants nothing but wit? Yet thus far o Hymen, thy answer is made, When his means are spent, they may live by her trade. Song 135. GIve me more love, or more disdain, The torrid, or the frozen Zone, Bring equal case unto my pain, The temperate afford me none; Either extreme of love, or hate, Is sweeter than a calm estate. Give me a storm: if it be love, Like Danae in a golden shower, I swim in pleasure; if it prove Disdain, that torrent will devour My Vulture hopes; And he's possessed Of heaven, that's but from hell released; Then crown my Joys, or cure my pain, Give me more love, or more disdain. Song 136. TEll me prithee, faithless Swain, Tell me prithee, faithless Swain, Why you did such passion feign, On purpose to deceive me, I no sooner loved again, But you again to leave me. Phillis, we must blame our fate, Phillis, we must blame our fate, Kindness bears a certain date, And e'er those Joys we tasted, You in peevishness and state, The time had almost wasted. 'Twas my love did yours destroy, 'Twas my love did yours destroy, Strephon had I still been coy, I know you still would prise me: Think you dreamed you did enjoy, And then you'll not despise me. Love like other native fires, Love like other native fires, Leaves what's burnt, and straight desires Fresh Objects to be choosing; Repetition always tires, And all's the worse for using. Once again thy love pursue, Once again thy love pursue, And my scorns I will renew, But passion doth so sway me, That should I my sighs subdue, My tears would soon betray me. Sigh no more, nor weep in vain, Sigh no more, nor weep in vain, Nymph, your Beauty soon will gain A more deserving Lover; Slaves that once have broke their chains, You hardly can recover. Song 137. TEll me no more you love, in vain Fair Celia, you this passion feign; Can those pretend to love, that do Refuse what love persuades us too? Who once has felt his active flame, Dull Laws of Honour does disdain, You would be thought his slave, and yet You will not to his power submit. More cruel than those Beauties are, Whose coyness wounds us with despair; For all the kindness which you show, Each Smile and Kiss which you bestow, Are like those Cordials which we give To dying men, to make them live, And languish cut an hour in pain; Be kinder Celia, or Disdain. Song 138. HOw happy art thou and I, That never knew how to love! There's no such Blessings here beneath, What e'er there is above: 'Tis Liberty, 'tis Liberty, Every wise man doth love. Song 139. WHy should only Man be tied To a foolish female thing, When all Creatures else beside, Birds and Beasts change every Spring? Who would then to one be bound, When so many may be found? Why should I myself confine To the limits of one place, When I have all Europe mine, Where I list to run my race? Who would the● to one be bound, When so many may be found? Would you think him wise that now Still one sort of meat doth eat, When both Sea and Land allow Sundry sorts of other meat? Who would then to one be bound, When so many may be found? ere old Saturn changed his throne, Freedom reigned and banished strife, Where was he that knew his own, Or who called a woman wife? Who would then to one bound, When so many may be found? Ten times happier are those men. That enjoyed those golden days; Until time's redressed again, I will never Hymen praise. Who is it would to one be bound, When so many may be found? Song 140. LOve's Empire, as the world is wide, All living creatures Lovers be, And those which have no life beside, Love by a secret sympathy. Nay Gods themselves who limit destiny, To Love's almighty Sceptre subject be. Under gilt Roo●s, in humble Cells, In Deserts, and in Prince's Courts, This uncontrolled Power dwells, Love unto every place resorts; And all the world under his yoke does faint, But he's a Monarch that brooks no restraint. Song 141. OH Chloris, would the Gods allow We e'er might love as we love now, What greater Joys hath earth in store? Or Heaven itself, to give us more? For nothing sure so sweet can prove, As pleasures of beginning Love. But Love when to its height arrived, Of all our Joys is shortest lived; Its morning past, it sets so soon, That none can find the afternoon; And of that little time is lent, Half in unkindness is misspent. Since Fate to Love such short life gives. And Love's so tender whilst it lives, Let us remove main fears away, So to prevent its first decay; For Love, like blood, let out before, Will lose its power, and cure no more. Song 142. NO, no, thou all of red and white, Thou hast not yet undone me quite For I have lost but half my heart, Yet I confess the wound doth smart; Then pretty thief, oh steal no more, But let me keep one part in store. Sure half's too much for thee of mine, Unless I had some share in thine. Though thou art fair, and though thou'rt young, And though thou hast a pretty tongue, And every word that thou dost say, Might lead a Prince's heart astray; Yet all those Traps will ne'er catch me, I must have kinder Snares from thee. 'Las thou shalt see I can retreat, And not lie conquered at thy feet. 'Tis true, if I did keep the field, At length I must be forced to yield, Not like a Coward will I fly, Nor like a fool will stay and die, With half my heart I'll march away, Then t'other part not long will stay; A heart divided knows no power, Nor will submit above an hour. Reproach me not, though heretofore ●onely freedom did adore, ●nd brag that none, though kind, as fair, The loss of it could half repair, Since I now willingly do yield To Chloris beauty all the field. With greater Joys I do resign My freedom, though thou e'er kepst thine, And am resolved constant to prove, Should her neglect transcend my love. Strange charms they are which make me burn, Without the hopes of a return. To see, and not to be in love, A wonder like herself would prove, Whose charms by Nature, and by Art, Do each of them deserve a heart. For which my sorrows are not small, I have but one to pay them all. I must confess a while I strove With reason to resist my love, All saints sometimes against death do pray Though it be to heaven their only way. 'Tis only Chloris hath the skill, To make me blest against my will. Nor will I so much as endure, To think inconstancy a Cure; For were I to that sin so bend, It sure would prove my punishment. Here to adore I must confess Is better, than elsewhere Success. Song. 143. WAke all ye dead, what Ho, what Ho; How sound they sleep whose pillars lie low? They mind not poor Lovers who walk above On the decks of the world, in storms of love? No whisper now, nor glance can pass Through wick●●s, or through panes of glass; For our windows and doors, are shut and barred, Lie close in the Church, and in the Churchyard, In every grave, make room, make room, The world●s at an end, and we come, we come. The State is now, Loves foe, Loves foe, Has seized on his Arms, his Quiver, and Bow, Has pinioned his Wings, and fettered his Feet, Because he made way for Lovers to meet; But oh sad chance, his Judge was old; Hearts cruel grow, when blood grows cold. No man being young, his Process would draw, Oh Heavens that Love should be subject to Law, Lovers go woo the dead the dead! Lie two in a grave, and to bed, to bed. Song 144. IN faith 'tis true, I am in love, 'Tis your black eyes have made me so; My resolutions they remove, And former niceness overthrow. The glowing Char-coals set on fire A heart, that former flames did shun, Who, as Heretic unto desire, Now's judged to suffer Matyrdom. But Beauty since it is thy fate, At distance thus to wound so sure, Thy Virtues I w●ll imitate, And see if distance prove a Cure. Then farewel Mistress, farewel Love, Those lately entertained desires, Wise men can from that plague remove; Farewell black eyes, and farewel fires. If ever I my heart acquit Of those dull flames, I'll bid a pox On all black eyes, and swear they're sit For nothing, but a Tinderbox. Song 145. I Happy saw, and faithful loved, Which I shall ever, ever do, Not to be constant called and proved, For that I am compelled unto; For she that in her love does think of fame, Love's not for the right end, but for a name. Compelled to love by parts divine, I follow them whom Angels tend, Then tell me, can my love decline Whose lowest object does ascend? No I must love him, and will prove it then, She's the best woman loves the best of men. Song 146. OUr Ruler hath got the Vertigo of State, The world turns round in his Politic pate, He steers in a Sea where his course cannot last, And bears too much sail, for the strength of his Mast. Let him plot all he can, Like a Politic man, Yet love though a Child may fit him: The small Archer though blind, Such an arrow will find, As with an old trick shall hit him, Sure Angelo knows loves party is strong, Love melts like soft wax, the hearts of the young; And none are so old, but they think on the taste, And weep with remembrance of kindnesses past. Let him plot all, etc. Love in the foolish is held a mad fit, And madness in fools is reckoned for wit, The wise value love, as fools wisdom prize, Which when they can't gain, they seem to despise. Let him plot all, etc. Cold Cowards all perils of anger shun, To dangers of love, they leap when they run; The Valiant in frolicks did follow the boy, When he led 'em a dance from Greece to Troy. Let him plot all, etc. Song 147. FOnd love, what dost thou mean, To court an idle folly? Platonic love is nothing else, But merely melancholy, 'Tis active love that makes us jolly. To dote upon a face, Or court a sparkling eye, Or to esteem a dimpled cheek, Complete felicity, 'Tis to betray one's liberty. Then pray be not so fond, Think you that women can, Rest satisfied with Compliments, The frothy part of man? No, no, they hate a Puritan. They care not for your sighs, Nor your erected eyes, They hate to hear a man complain, Alas he dies, he dies, Believe't they love a closer prize. Then venture to embrace, 'Tis but a smack or two; I'm confident no woman lives, But sometimes she will do, The fault lies not in her, but you. Song 148. SIlly heart forbear, Those are murdering eyes, In the which I swear, Cupid lurking lies. See his Quiver, see his Bow too, see his Dart; Fly, O fly! fly, O fly! Thou foolish heart. Song 149. POor Artaxander long hath wooed Fai● Celia, but in vain, For she on terms of Honour stood, Though never on disdain▪ His kind addresses as a charm, Sometimes she'd entertain, With soft embraces close and warm, Yet straight grow cold again. Song 150. THou Deity swift winged Love, Sometimes below, sometimes above, Little in shape, but great in power, Thou that mak'st thy heart a tower, And thy loopholes Ladies eyes, From whence thou strik'st the fond and wise. Did all the shafts in thy fair Quiver, Stick fast in my ambitious L●ver; Yet thy power would I adore, And call upon thee to shoot more, Shoot more, shoot more. Song 151. O Cupid turn away thy Bow, Thy power we maids both feel and know Fair Cupid turn away thy Bow, They be those golden Arrows, Bring Ladies all their sorrows, And till there be more truth in men, Never shoot at maids ag●n. Song 152. Feign would I wake thee sweet, but fear I should invite you to worse cheer; In your Dreams you cannot fair, Meaner than Music, no compare; None of your slumbers are compiled, Under the pleasures makes a Child: Your day-delights so well compact, That what you think turns all to act. Id wish myself no better play. Your dream by night, your thought by day. Wake, gently wake, part softly from your dreams, The morning flies, To your fair eyes, To take her special beams, Song 153. LEt the Bells ring, And the Boys s●ng, The young Lass●s trip and play; Let the Cups go round, Till round goes the ground, Our Learned Vicar we'll s●ay. Let the Pig turn merrily hay, And let the fat Goose swim, For verily, verily, hay, Our Vicar this day shall be t●im. The stewed Cock shall Crow— cock a doodle dow, A loud cock a doodle shall crow, The Duck, and the Drake, Shall swim in a lake Of Onions and Claret below. Our wives shall be neat, To bring in our meat, To thee our noble Adviser, Our pains shall be great, And our Pottles shall sweat, And we ourselves shall be wiser. We'll labour and swink, We'll kiss, and we'll drink, And Tithes shall come thicker and thicker, We'll fall to the plough, And get Children enough, And thou shalt be learned O Vicar. Song 154. HE that a Tinker, a Tinker will be. Let him leave other loves and come listen to me; Though he travels all the day, Yet he comes home still at night, And dallies with his Doxy, And dreams of delight. His Pot and his Toast in the morning he takes, And all day long good Music he makes, He wanders up and down to Wakes and to Fairs, And casts his Cap at the Court, and its cares; When to the town the Tinker doth come, Oh how the wanton wenches run. Some bring him Basins, some bring him Bowls, All wenches pray him to stop up their holes; Think goes the Hammer, the Skellet, and the Scummer, Come bring me the Copper Kettle, For the T●ker, the tinker, the merry merry tinker, Oh he is the man of mettle. Song 155. A Silly poor shepherd was folding his sheep, He walked so long he got cold in his feet, He laid on his coals by two and by three, But the more he laid on, the Cuc-colder was he. Alas good wife what should we do now, To buy us more fuel, we'll sell the brown Cow, To buy us more coals to warm thee and me, But the more he laid on, the Cut-colder was he. Some shepherds, said she, themselves can warm keep, By feeding their flock, and folding their sheep, But when thou comest home with thy tar-box and crook Oh how it grieves me, how Cuccold thou dost look. Alas good wife I walk through dew, dirt, and mire. Whilst thou perhaps warmest thyself without fire, With a friend in a corner, in some such sort as where by The warmer thou art, the Cuc-colder am I, Song 156. NOw that the Spring hath filled our veins, With quick and active fire, And made green Liv'ries o'er th●●lains, And every Grove a Choir; Sing we this Song with mirth and merry glee, And Bacchus crown the bowl, And here's to thee, And thou to me, And every thirsty soul. Shear sheep that have them cry we still, But see that no man scape, To take of the Sherry, That makes us so merry, And plump as the lusty grape. Song 157. PIsh, modest sipper, to't again, My sweetest joy, The wine's not coy, As women are, My dearest puling, prithee then, Prithee my fair, Once more bedew those lips of thine, Mend thy draught, and mend the wine, Since it hath tasted of thy lip, (Too quickly cloyed) How overjoyed It cheersully Invites thee to another sip, Methinks I see The wine perfumed by thee my fair, Bacchus himself is dabbling there. Once more dear soul, nay prithee try, Bath that Cherry, In the Sherry, The jocund wine, Which sweetly smiles and courts thy eye As more divine: Though thou take none to drink to me, Takes pleasure to be drank by thee: Nay my fair, off with't, oft with it clean, Well I perceive, Why this you leave, My love reveals, And makes me guests what 'tis you mean, Because at meals, My lips are kept from kissing thee, Thou needs wilt kiss the Glass to me. Song 158. THe Spaniard loves his ancient st●p, A Lombard the Venetian, And some like breechless women go, The Rush, Turk, jew, and Grecian. The thrifty French man wears small waste, The Du●ch his belly boasteth. The English man is for th●m all, And for each fashion coasteth. The Turk in linen wraps his head, The Persian his in lawn too, The Rush with Sable furs his Cap, And change will not be drawn to. The Spaniards constant to his Black, The French inconstant ever, But of all the Felts that may be ●elt, Give me the English Beaver. The Germane loves his Coney-wool, The Irishman his shag too; The Welsh his Monmouth loves to wear, And of the same will brag too. Some love the rough, and some the smooth, Some great, and others small things, But oh your liquorish English man, He loves to deal in all things The Rush drinks Quass, Dutch Lubeck's Beer, And that is strong and mighty; The Britain he Metheglin quaffs, The Irish Aqua vitae. The French affects the Orleans Grape, The Spaniard sips his Sherry, The English none of these can scape, But he withal makes merry. The Italian in her high Chopen, Scotch Lass and lovely Vroe too, The Spanish Donna, French Madam, He doth not fear to go to. Nothing so full of hazard, dread. Nought lives above the Centre; No health, no fashion, wine, nor wench, On which he will not venture. Song. 159. FRom the fair Lavinian shore, I your Markets come to store, Muse not though so far I dwell, And my wares come here to sell; Such is the sacred Hunger of Gold, Then come to my pack, Where I cry, What do you lack, What do you buy, For here it is to be sold. You whose birth and breeding base, Are ranked into a nobler race; And whose Parents heretofore Neither Arms, nor Scutheons bore: First let me have but a touch of your Gold, Then come to me Lad, You shall have, What your Dad Never gave, For here it is to be sold. Madam, for your wrinkled fa●e, Here's Complexion it to grace, Which, if your earnest be but small, It takes away the virtue all. But if your Palms are anointed with gold Than you shall seem Like a Queen Of fifteen, Though you are threescore year old? Song 160. WHen Daisies pied, and Violets blue, And Cuckow-buds of yellow hue; And Lady-smocks all silver white, Do paint the Meadows with delight, The Cuckoo then on every tree, Mocks married men; for thus sings he, Cuckoo, Cuckoo, a word of fear, Unpleasing to a married ear. When shepherds Pipe on Oaten straws, And merry Larks are ploughmen's Clocks, When Turtles tread, and Rooks, and Daws, And Maidens bleach their Summer Smocks, The Cuckoo then on every tree, Mocks married men; for thus sings he, Cuckoo, Cuckoo, a word of fear, Unpleasing to a married ear. Song 161. AFter the pains of a desperate Lover, When day and night I have sighed all in vain, Ah what a pleasure it is to discover In her eyes pity, who causes my pain! Chorus Ah what, etc. When the Denial comes fainter and fainter, And her eyes give what her tongue does deny, Ah what a trembling I feel when I venture, Ah what a trembling does usher my Joy! Chor. Ah what, etc. When with unkindness our Love at a stand is, And both have punished ourselves with the pain, Ah what a pleasure the touch of her hand is! A what a pleasure to press it again! Chor. Ah what, etc. When with a sigh she accords me the blessing, And her eyes twinkle 'twixt pleasure and pain, Ah what a Joy! Oh beyond all expressing! Ah what a Joy to hear it again. Chor. Ah what, etc. Song 162. CAlm was the Evening, and clear was the Sky, And new budding Flowers did spring, When all alone went Amintas and I To hear the sweet Nightingale sing. I sat, and he laid him down by me, And scarcely his breath he could draw, But when with a fear, He began to come near, He was dashed with a ah, ah, ah. He blushed to himself, and lay still ●or a while, And his modesty curbed his desire, But straight convinced all his fears with a smile, And added new flames to his fire. Ah Silvia, said he, you are cruel, To keep your poor Lover in awe, Then once more he pressed With his hands to my breast, But was dashed with a ah, ah, ah▪ I knew 'twas his passions caused all his fear, And therefore I pitied his case, I whispered him softly, there's no body near, And laid my check close to his face: But as he grew bolder and bolder, A shepherd came by us, and saw, And just as our bliss Began with a kiss, He burst out with ha, ha, ha, ha, Song 163. WHen I sickles hang by the wall, And Dick the shepherd blows his nail, And Tom bears Log into the Hall, And Milk comes frozen home in pail, When blood is nipped, and ways be foul, Then nightly sings the staring Owl, Tu-whit, to-who, a merry Note, While greasy jone doth keel the pot. When all aloud the wind doth blow, And coughing drowns the Parsons saw, And Birds sits brooking in the snow, And Marrians Nose looks red and raw; When roasted Crabs hiss in the bowl, Then nightly sings the staring Owl, Tu-whit, to-who, a merry Note, While greasy jone doth keel the po●. Song 164. TAke, oh take those lips away, That so sweetly were forsworn; And those eyes the break of day, Lights that do misled the morn; But my kisses bring again, Seals of Love, but sealed in vain. Song 165. SIgh no more Ladies, sigh no more, Men were deceivers ever, One foot in sea, and one on shore, To one thing constant never: Then sigh not so, But let them go, And be you blithe and bonny, Converting all your sounds of woe, Into hay Nonny, nonny. Sing no more Ditties, sing no more Of dumps so dull and heavy, The fraud of men were ever so, Since Summer first was levy; Then sigh not so, But let them go, And be you blithe and bony, Converting all your sounds of woe, Into hay Nonny, nonny. Song 166. A Maid, I dare not tell her name, For fear I should disgrace her, Tempted a young man for to come One night, and to embrace her, But at the door he made a stop, He made a stop, he made a stop, But she lay still, and snoring said, The Latch pull up, the Latch pull up. This young man hearing of her words, Pulled up the Latch and entered; And in the place unfortunately, To her Mother's Bed he ventured: But the poor maid was sore afraid, And almost dead, and almost dead, But she lay still, and snoring said, The Truckle-bed, the Truckle-bed. Unto the Truckle-bed he went, But as the youth was going, Th' unlucky Cradle stood in's way, And almost spoiled his wooing; When after that, the maid he spied, The maid he spied, the maid he spied, But she lay still, and snoring said, The other side, the other side. Unto the other side he went, To show the love he meant her, Pulled off his clothes courageously, And falls to th' work he was sent for; But the poor Maid made no reply, Made no reply, made no reply, But she lay still, and snoring said, A little too high, a little too high. This lusty Lover was half ashamed Of her gentle admonition, He thought to charge her home as well, As any Girl could wish him; O now my Love, I'm right I know, I'm right I know, I'm right I know, But she lay still, and snoring said, A little too low, a little too low. Though by mistakes, at length this youth His business so well tended, He hot the mark so cunningly, He defied the world to mend it; O now my Love, I'm right I swear, I'm right I swear, I'm right I swear, But she lay still, and snoring said, O there, O there, O there, O there. Song 167. I Can love for an hour, When I'm at leisure, He that loves half a day, Sins without measure; Cupid come tell me, what What art had thy Mother, To make me love one Face More than another. Men to be thought more wise, Daily endeavour, To make the world believe They can love ever. Ladies believe them not, They will deceive you, For when they have their wills, Then they will leave you. Men cannot feast themselves With your sweet Features, They love variety Of charming Creatures; Too much of any thing Sets them a cooling, Though they can nothing do, They will be fooling. Song 168. TOm and Will were Shepherd's swains, They loved and lived together, When fair Pastor● graced their Plains, Alas! why came she thither? For though they fed two several Flocks, They had but one desire, Pastoras Eyes, and amber Locks, Sat both their hearts on fire. Tom came of honest gentle Race, By Father, and by Mother, Will was noble, but alas, He was a younger brother. Tom was toysom, Will was sad, No Huntsman, nor no Fowler, Tom was held a proper Lad, But Will the better Bowler. Tom would drink her Health, and swear The Nation could not want her, Will could take her by the ear, And with his voice inchant her. Tom kept always in her sight, And ne'er forgot his duty, Will was witty, and could write Smooth Sonnets on her Beauty. Thus did she exercise her skill, When both did dote upon her, She graciously did use them still, And still preserved her honour. So cunning and so fair a she, And of so sweet behaviour, That Tom thought he, and Will thought he Was chiefly in her favour. Which of those two she loved most, Or whether she loved either, 'Tis thought they'll find it to their cost, That she indeed loved neither. For to the Court Pastora's gone, 'Thad been no Court without her; The Queen among her train had none Was half so fair about her. Tom hung his Dog, and threw away His Sheep-crook, and his Wallet, Will burst his Pipes, and cursed the day That e'er he made a Sonnet. Song 169. LAwn as white as driven Snow, Cypress as black as e'er was Crow, Gloves as sweet as Damask Roses, Masks for Face●, and for Noses, Bugle-bracelets, Necklace Amber, Perfume for a Lady's Chamber; Golden Quoifs, and Stomachers, For my Lads to give their Dears; Pins, and Poaking-sticks of steel: Come buy of me, Come; Come buy, come buy: Buy Lads, or else your Lasses cry: Come buy. Will you buy any Tape, Or Lace for your Cape, My dainty Duck, my Dear? Any Silk, any Thread, Any Toys for your head, Of the newest, and finest, finest wear? Come to the Pedlar, Money's a meddler, That doth utter all men's ware. Song 170. FEar no more the heat o●th' Sun, Nor the furious Winter's rages, Thou thy worldly task hast done, Home art gone, and take thy wages. Golden Lads and Girls all must, As Chimney-sweepers, come to dust. Fear no more the frown o'th' Great, Thou art passed the Tyrants struck, Care no more to cloth and eat, To thee the Reed is as the Oak; The Sceptre, Learning, Physic must, All follow thee, and come to dust. Fear no more the Lightning flash, Nor th'all-dreaded Thunder-stone. Fear no slander, Censure rash, Thou hast finished Joy and Moon. All Lovers young, all Lovers must Consign to thee, and come to dust. No Exorciser harm thee, Nor no witchcraft charm thee. Ghost unlaid forbear thee, Nothing ill come near thee, Quiet consummation have, And renowned be thy Grave. Song 171. A Young man lately in our Town, He went to bed one night, He had no sooner laid him down, But was troubled with a Spirit: So vigorously this Spirit stood, Let him do what he can, Oh then he said, It must be laid, By a woman, not a man. A handsome Maid did undertake, And into th' Bed she leapt, And to allay the Spirits power, Full close to him she crept: She having such a guardian care, Her office to discharge, She opened wide her Conjuring-book, And laid her leaves at large. Her office she did well perform Within a little space, Then up she rose, and down he lay, And durst not show his face. She took her leave, and away she went, When she had done the deed, Saying, if't chance to come again, Then send for me with speed. Song 172. 'TIs a merry 〈◊〉 we live, All our work is brought unto us, Still are getting, never give, For their clothes all men do woo us, Yet unkind, they blast our names With aspersions of dishonour; For which we make bold with their Dames, When we take our measure on her. Song 173. HElp Love, or else I sink, for know, He best can help that causeth woe; Help then, and with thy smother Palm, The fury of my passions calm: Succeeding tears in Billows rise, As there were Seas met in my eyes; My sighs united proudly grown, As the four winds combined in one: Hark how they roar! my sighs and tears, Sure have conspired to tempt my fears; See how they swell now they are met, And even a tempest do beget! It shakes my Bark, her ribs do crack, And now I fear a dismal wrack: Help Love for pity, than I pray, ere my poor heart be cast away. Song 174. MAke ready fair Lady to night, And stand at the door below, For I will be there, To receive you with care, And with your true Love you shall go. And when the stars twinkle so bright, Then down to the door will I creep; To my Love I will fly, ere the Jealous can spy, And leave my old Daddy asleep. Song 175. ONce was I sad, T●ll I grew to be mad, But I'll never be sad again boys; I courted a Riddle, She fancied a Fiddle, The tune does still run in my brain boys. The Gittarn, the Lute, The Pipe, and the Flute, Are the new Alamode for the Nan boys, With Pistol and Dagger, The women out-swagger, The Blades with the Mu●● and the Fan boys. All the town is run mad, And the Hectors do pad, Besides their false Dice, and the Slur-boys: The new formed Cheat●● With their acts and debates, Have brought the old to a Demur boys. Men stand upon thorns, To pull out their horns, And to cuckold themselves in grain-boys: When to wear 'em before, Does make their heads sore, But behind they do suffer no pain-boys. The Papist, the Presbyter, And Prestor john, Are much discontented we see boys: For all their Religion, No Mahomet's Pigeon Can make 'em be madder than we boys. There is a mad fellow, Clad always 〈◊〉 yellow, And sometime his Nose is blue boys: He cheated th● devil, Which was very ev●● To him and to all his Crew boys. And whilst we are thus mad, My Princess is glad To laugh at the world, and at me boys, 'Cause I can't apprehend What she please to command But it is not myself you see boys. Song 176. STay, shut the Gate, Tother quart; faith 'tis not so late As your thinking, The Stars which you see, In the Hemisphere be, Are but studs in our Cheeks by good drinking. The Suns gone to tipple all night in the Sea, boys, To morrow he'll blush, that he's paler than we boys, Drink wine, give him water, 'tis Sack makes us the boys. Fill up the Glass, To the next merry Lad let it pass, Come away with't: Let's set foot to foot, And give our minds to't, 'Tis Heretical Six that doth slay wit; Then ●ang up good Faces, let's drink till our Noses Gives freedom to speak what our fancy disposes, Beneath whose protection, now under the Rose is. Drink off your Bowl, 'Twill enrich both your head and your soul With Canary; For a Carbuncleed Face, Saves a tedious race, And the Indies about us we carry: No Helicon like to the Juice of good wine is, For Phoebus had never had wit that divine is, Had his face not been bow-dyed as thine is, and mine is. This must go round, Off with your H●ts till the Pavement be crowned With your Beavers; A Red-coated Face, Frights a Sergeant and's Mace, Whilst the Constable trembles to shivers, In state march our Faces like some of the Quorum, While the whores do fall down; & the vulgar ador 'em And our Noses like Link-boys run shining before 'um. Song 177. MAy I find a woman fair, And h●r mind as clear as air. If her beauty go alone, 'tis to me as if 'twere none. May I find a woman rich, And not of too high a pitch; If that pride should cause disdain, Tell me, Lover, where's thy gain? May I find a woman wise, And her falsehood not disguise, Hath she wit, as she hath will; Double armed she is to ill. May I find a woman kind, And not wavering like the wind? How should I call that love mine, When 'tis his, and his, and thine. May I find a woman true, There is Beauty's fairest hue; There is Beauty, Love, and Wit, Happy he can compass it. Song 178. I Courted a Lass, my folly Was the cause of her disdaining, I courted her thus; What shall I Sweet Dolly, d● for thy dear loves obtaining? But another had dallied with Dolly, That Dolly for all her feigning, Had got such a mountain above her valley, That Dolly went home complaining. Song 179. GOod People give ear Whilst a story I tell, Of twenty black Tradesmen, Were brought up in Hell, On purpose poor People To Rob of their due; There's none shall be noozed If you find but one true. The first was a coiner That Stamped in a mould, The second a Voucher To put off his Gold. Then hark well, And mark well, See what will befall. They are twenty sworn Brethren Tradesmen all. The third was a Padder That fell to decay; And when he was living Took to the Highway. The forth is a Mill-Ken, To crack up a door; he'll venture to rob, both The Rich, and the Poor. The fifth is a Glazier, Who when he creeps in; To pinch all the Lurry, He thinks it no sin. Then hark well, etc. The sixth is a Foyl-cloy That not one Hick spares, And the seventh is a Budgg, To tract up the stairs; The eight is a Bulk, That can Bulk any Hick, If the Master be napped, Then Bulk he is sick. The ninth is a Ginny To lift up a Grate; The sees but the Lurry With his Hooks he will bate. Then hark well, etc. ●he tenth is a Shoplift ●hat carries a Bob, ●hen he ranges the City The Shops for to Rob. The eleventh is a Bubber, Much used of late, He goes to the Alehouse, And steals there the plate. The twelfth a Trapan, If a Cull he doth meet, He naps all his Coal, And turns him i'th' street: Then hark well, etc. The thirteenth a Fambler, False Rings for to sell, When a Mob he has bit, His Coal he will tell. The fourteenth a Gamester, If he sees the Hick sweet, He presently drops down A Cog in the street. The fifteenth a Prancer, Whose courage is small, If they catch him Horse courssing He's noozed for all. Then hark well, etc. The sixteenth a Sheep-napper, Whose trade's so deep, If he's caught in the Corn, He's marked for a Sheep. The seventeenth a Dun-aker, That will make vow's, To go in the Country, And steal all the Cows. The eighteenth a Kid-napper, Spirits young men, Though he tip them the piks, They nap him again. Then hark well, etc. The nineteenth is a Prigger Of the Cacklers, Goes into the Country, To visit the Farmers, He steals their Poultry, And thinks it no sin, When into the Hen-roost I'th' night he gets in. The twentieth a Thief-catcher, So we him call, If he nap a poor Tradesman, He pays for all. Then hark well, etc. There's many more craftsmen, Which I could name; That do use such like trades, Yet think it no shame: These may a poor Convert, Confess to his grief, Are all the black Trades Of a Gentleman Thief; Who though a good Workman, Is seldom made free, Till he rides on a Cart, To be noozed on a Tree. Then hark well, And mark well, See what doth befall, 'Twas the end of these twenty Sworn Brethren all. Song 180. COme hither sweet Melancholy, Now 'tis time to be Jolly, Dame Fortune▪ is poor, And Venus a whore, And Cupid is full of his folly I cannot but laugh to see men, Thus dote on foolsh women, Accursed are they, With such Puppets to play, And blessed is he that's a freeman. For as once, I dearly loved a creature, For virtue more than feature; But she is grown coy, That then was my Joy, And she is of a weathercock nature. I loved her as a sister, A thousand times I kissed her, Yet nevertheless I missed her. These words in her mouth were common, She'd marry myself, or no man; But away she flew, Like a Hawk from mew, So fickle a thing is woman. Chaste Life shall be my study, My Closet a Walk that's woody; And during my life, I'll ne'er have a wife, She'll make my brains grow muddy. My Muse shall be my Bedfellow, A Bundle of Books my pillow, And in stead of a Horn, My bed I'll adorn, With a Garland made of Willow. I'll never more trust a woman, That will prove constant to no man, She sets up her guiles, With flattering smiles, With a purpose to undo man. For they are always so fickle, And in their behaviour brittle. Like grass that is old, And falls from the mould, They are sit to be trimmed with a sickle. False Fondling now I'll leave thee, For thou wilt of my wits bereave me; Although I am blind, I evermore find, Thou art constant to deceive me. Prime youth lasts not, age will follow, And make all white, thy Tresses yellow; And when time shall date thy glory, Then too late thou wilt be sorry. Song 181. A King lives not a braver life, Than we merry prisoners do, Though fools in freedom do conceive, That we are in want and wo. When we never take care For providing our fare, We have one that doth purvay For victual day by day. What pray then can a King have more, Than one that doth provide his store? King's have a Keeper, so have we, Although he be not a Lord, Yet shall strut and swell as big as he, And command all with a word; All the Judges do appear Twice before us every year, Where each one of us doth stand With the Law in his own hand. Can Kings command then more than we, Who of all Laws Commanders be? Each to the Hall walks in his chain, Where our Guard about us stand, And all the Country comes in amain, At holding up of a hand, Though our Chaplain cannot preach, Yet he'll suddenly you teach To read of the hardest Psalm, Doth not he deserve the Palm? Ye Courtiers all ye cannot show, Such Officers as these I trow. Song 182. IN Love, away, you do me wrong, I hope I have not lived so long Freed from the treach'ries of your eyes, Now to be caught and made your prize. No Lady, 'tis not all your Art Can make me, and my freedom part. In love, with what? with spanish Wine, Or the French Juice in carnadine, The Dimple or the other Grace, But not in Love with your fair Face. No there's more sweetness in pure wine, Than either looks or lips of thine. Your God you say can shoot so right, he'll wound a heart in th' darkest night, Pray let him fling away his dart, And see if he can hit my heart: No Cupid, know if thou'lt be mine, Turn Ga●imed●, and fill some Wine. Then fill a cup of Perry And we will be merry, There's nought but pure wine Makes us Love sick and pine, I'll hug the cup and kiss it, And sigh if I miss it, 'Tis that makes us Jolly, Sing hay trolly lolly. Song 183. A Maiden fair I dare not wed. For fear I wear Actaeon's head; A Maiden black is ever proud, The little one is ever loud. A Maiden that is tall of growth, Is always subject unto sloth: The fair, the foul, the little, the tall, Some fault remains among them all. Song 184. NOw, by my love, the greatest Oath that is, There's none that loves thee half so well as I, I do not neither ask your love for this; For Heaven's sake believe me, or I die, No faithful servant e'er but did deserve His Master should believe that he did serve, And I ask no more wages though I starve. My love, fair Beauty, like thyself is pure, Nor could I e'er a bestial love approve, One smile would make me willingly endure, I can't but keep together Life and Love. Being your prisoner and your captived slave, So do not feast nor banquet look to have, A little bread and water's all I crave. Upon your sigh for pity I can live, One tear will keep me twenty years at least, And fifty more a gentle Look will give, A hundred years but one kind Word will feast, A thousand more will surely added be, If you an inclination have for me, They comprehend a vast Eternity. Song 185. HAve you any work for the Sowgelder, ho? My Horn goes too high, too low, Have you any Pigs, Calves, or Colts? Have you any Lambs in your holts, To cut for the stone? Here comes a cunning one. Have you any Brauches to spade, Or e'er a fair Maid, That would be a Nun? Come kiss me 'tis done. Hark how my merry Horn doth blow. Too high, too low, Too high, too low. Song 186. I Am a Rogue, and a stout one, A most courageous Drinker, I do excel, 'Tis known full well, The Ratter, Tom, and Tinker. Still do I cry, Good your Worship, good Sir, Bestow one small denire Sir, And bravely then, At the Bousing ken, I'll spend it all in Beer Sir. If a Bung be got by the highway Then strait I do attend them; For if Hue and Cry Do follow, I A wrong way soon do send them. Still do I cry, etc. Ten miles unto a Market, I run to meet a Miser, Then in a throng, I nip his Bung, And the party ne'er the wiser. Still do I cry, etc. My dainty Dells, my Doxies, When e'er they see me lacking, Without delay, Poor wretches, they Will set their duds a packing. Still do I cry, etc. I pay for what I call for, And so perforce it must be. For yet I can Not know the man, Or Hostess that will trust me▪ Still do I cry, etc. If any give me Lodging, A courteous knave they find me, For in their bed, Alive or dead, Some louse I leave behind me. Still do I cry, etc. If Gentlefolk be coming, Then strait it is our fashion, Our leg to tie, Close to our thigh, To move them to compassion. Still do I cry, etc. My doublet sleeve hangs empty, And for to beg the bolder, For meat and drink, Mine arm I shrink Up close unto my shoulder. Still do I cry, etc. If a Coach I hear be rumbling, To my Crutches then I high me, For being lame, It is a shame, Such Gallants should deny me. Still do I cry, etc. With a seeming bursten belly, I look like one half dead Sir, Or else I beg, With a wooden leg, And a night Cap on my head Sir. Still do I cry, etc. In winter time stark naked, I come into some City, Then every man That spare them can, Will give me clothes for pity. Still do I cry, etc. If from out of the Low Country, I hear a Captain's name Sir, Then strait I swear, I have been there, And so in sight came lam● Sir. Still do I cry, etc. My Dog in a string doth lead me, When in the town I go Sir, For to be blind, All men are kind, And will their alms bestow Sir. Still do I cry, etc. With Switches sometimes stand I, In the bottom of a hill Sir, Where those men which Do want a Switches, Some money give me still Sir. Still do I cry, etc. Come buy, come buy a Hornbook, Who buys my Pins or Needles? In Cities I Those things do cry, Oft times to scape the Beadles, Still do I cry, etc. In Paul's Church by a Pillar, Sometimes y'ave seen me stand Sir, With a Writ that shows What care and woes I passed by Sea and Land Sir. Still do I cry, etc. Now blame me not for boasting, And bragging thus alone Sir, For myself I will Be praising still, For Neighbours I have none Sir. Which makes me cry Good your Worship, good Sir, Bestow one small Denire Sir, And bravely then, At the Bousing Ken, I'll spend it all in Beer Sir. Song 187. LEt's have a Dance upon the heath, We gain more life by Duncons' death, Sometimes like brinded Cats we show, Having no Music but our mew; Sometimes we dance in some old Mill, Upon the Hopper, Stones, and Wheel, To some old Saw, or bardish Rhyme, While still the Mill-clack does keep time. Sometimes about a hallow tree, A round, a round, a round dance we; Thither the chirping Critic comes, And Beetles singing drowsy humms. Sometimes we dance o'er Fens and Furs, To howl● of Wolves, and barks of Curs, And when with none of these we meet, We dance to the echoes of our feet. Song 188. MY Muse denies To Apollogize, For my Songs acceptation, I know 'twill fit Your Appetite, Because 'tis of the fashion. New fashions began With the world and man, In Adam's time and Eve's, They did begin, To cover sin, With a fashion of their leaves. After way tried, The rough Buck's hide. A wear of commendation, Had not with the skin, The Horns crept in, And turned it to a fashion. Each Tailor is read In this fashion, his head Is capable on't 'tis feared, When he's not at leisure, His wife will take measure, Though't be by his Neighbour's Y●rd, The Clown's array, Is an innocent grey, Nor stianed by the Dyers Art, Which doth invest, As pure a breast, And no less spotless heart. The Farmer's Hose, His wearing shoes, For both are wondrous plain, His Honesty, Not Knavery, he Most purely dies in Grain. The Schoolmaster in His trouzes hath been And bombast Doublet long space, he's a Menoptote, For he varies not At any time his case. His wife is pure, In her talk demure, Her Gown is of Reformation, And she verily Turns up her eye; In a very zealous fushion. The shopkeepers walk, And oftentimes talk In Gowns, or of Purple, or blue, Since Venner and far, Wore such at the Bar, Some wisely have changed the Hu●. The Lawyer (be't known To all men) is prone, To the fashion of long Hose; And fain he would Still have and hold Long Suits, for he lives by those. Now with the best, Your Pimp's in request, Thus your Gallant is supplied, By his bones as well, As his clothes you may smell, he's rarely Frenchifyed; His Mistress Plumed, Painted, Perfumed, Is stillified all over, Her loose Array Doth every day, A loser body cover. The Scholar well trust, In his black Suit brushed, Is like to jet in his degree, Nor is it enough, Men point at Stuff, he'll be pointed at the knee. Thus are we become As Apes of Rome, Of France, Spain, and all Nations, And not horses alone, But men are grown Diseased of the Fashions. Song 18●. WHen Orpheus sweetly did complain, Upon his Lute with heavy strain, How his Eurydice was slain; The trees to hear Obtained an ear, And after left it off again. At every stroke and sorry stay, The Boughs kept time, and nodding lay, And listened, bending all one way; The Aspen-tree As fast as he, Began to shake, and learn to play. If wood could speak, a tree might hear; If wood could sound true grief so near, A tree might drop an Amber tear: If wood so well Could ring a Knell, The Cypress might condole the Beer. The standing Nobles of the Grove, Hearing dead wood to speak and move, The fatal Axe began to love; They envied Death Which gave such breath, As men alive do Saints above. Song 190. CHloris forbear a while, Do not o'er joy me, Urge not another smile, Lest it destroy me; That Beauty passeth most, And is best taking, Which is soon won, soon lost, Kind, yet forsaking: I love a coming Lady, faith I do, But now and then I'd have her scornful too. O'recloud those eyes of thine, Boo-peep thy features, Warm with an April slune, Scorch not thy creatures. Still to display thy ware, Still to be fooling, Argues how rude you are In Cupid's Schooling. Disdain begets a smile, scorn draws us nigh, 'Tis cause I would, and cannot, makes me try. Chloris I'd have thee wise, When Gallants view thee, Courting do thou despise, Fly those pursue thee; Fast moves an appetite, Makes hunger greater, who's stinted of delight, Falls to 't the better. Be coy and kind by times, be smooth and rough; And buckle now and then, and that's enough. Song 191. YOu say you love me, nay can swear it too, But stay Sir, 'twill not do; I know you keep your Oaths, Just as you wear your clothes, While new and fresh in fashion: But once grown old, you lay them by, Forgot like words you speak in passion. I'll not believe you, I. Song 192. YE Fiends and Furies, come along, Each bring a Crow and massy Prong; Come bring your Shackles, and draw near, To stir up an old Sea-coal, caked, That in the hallow hell hath baked Many a thousand, thousand year. In sulphurous Broth, Tyrius hath boiled, Basted with Brimstone; Tarqui● hath broiled Long, long enough; then make room, Like smoky Flitches hang 'em by Upon their sooty Walls to dry; A greater Ravisher will come, If you want fire, fetch it from Aetna pure; Yet stay a while, and do not stir, For if his glowing eyes should chance On Proserpina to shoot a glance, He is so hot, he'd ravish her. Song 193. GO happy heart, for thou shalt lie Entombed in her, for whom I die, Example of her cruelty. Tell her if she chance to chide Me for slowness, in her pride, That it was for her I died. If a tear escape her eye, 'Tis not for my Memory, But thy Rights of Obsequy. The Altar was my loving breast, My heart the sacrificed beast, And I was myself the Priest. Your body was the sacred shrine, Your cruel mind the Power Divine, Pleased with hearts of men, nor Kine. Song 194. AH Chloris! that I now could ●it As unconcerned, as when Your infant beauty could beget No pleasure, nor no pain. When I the Dawn used to admire, And praised the coming Day; I little thought the growing fire Would take my rest away. Your charms in harmless childhood lay, Like metals in the Mine, Age from no Face took more away, Than youth concealed in thine. But as your Charms insensibly To their perfection pressed, Fond Love as unperceived did fly, And in my bosom rest. My passion with your Beauty grew, And Cupid at my heart, Still as his Mother favoured you, Threw a new flaming Dart. Each gloried in their wanton part, To make a Lover, he Employed the utmost of his art, To make a Beauty she. Though now I slowly bend to love, Uncertain of my fate, If your fair self my chains approve, I shall my freedom hate. Lovers like dying men, may well At first disordered be, Since none alive can truly tell, What fortune they must see. Song 195. ALl joy unto that happy pair, Which this day united are, Though all the world suffered decrease, Yet may their love never grow less, But still recruited every day. With fresh delights may it increase, And may it lasting be, As vast Eternity. May never fatal accident have force, To interrupt the pleasing course Of their united passions, till they grow So far above all here below; They may themselves so happily deceive, As to believe, That though they're here, Yet they in Heaven do fill a sphere. Song 195. Dialogue Pastoral, Strephon and Phillis. Phil. STrephon, what envious cloud hath made All o'er thy face this sullen shade? Strephon. It is the Index of my grief, Phil. But say, admits it no relief, Thy now neglected flock doth stray, The Wolf securely takes his prey, And thy discarded Pipes lies by, Whilst thou under some Bench does lie, Or Myrtle in the shady Grove, And sighest and pinest like one in love. Str. Ah Phillis, thou hast touched me now, I can't my passion disavow, At that word Love, my heart does rise, And with it strangely sympathise. Ph. But who did thus your heart surprise? Str. It was the shepherdess, whose eyes Are brighter far than any ray, The Sun disclosed on May-day. Ph. Who was it? Strephon tell me true, Str. Ah Dearest Phillis, it was you, Ph. Strive not false shepherd, to deceive A Nymph too easy to believe A passion, which she likes so well, Such falsehood would deserve a Hell. Str. May th' Gods for whom fat Lambs I feed, That on their smoking Altars bleed, All my devoutest prayers despise, And all my humble sacrifice; Or what's greater Curse may I, Find nought from thee but cruelty, If I do love my Phillis less, Than my own greatest happiness; If truth doth not with swains reside, Where is she in the world beside? Phil. I can't distrust so loved a truth, Delivered by so sweet a youth, Chorus of two. Le's join our hands and hearts & we●l'out-vie The Gods themselves with our felicity. Chorus of four Let those that in deceitful Courts do dwell, Delay their joys, and tedious suits pursue, Voices. Our honest words their courtship far excel, Amongst unambitious shepherds love is true. Song 196. HAste sluggish morn, why dost thou stay, This is Venus' Holiday? Can nothing bribe thee, can no charms, Force thee from thy Tython's Arms? Oh yonder comes the expected guest, Sol from his Chambers of the East, And does me thinks dance as on Easter day, Th' intelligences on the spheres do play, The winged Songsters of the Groves, Do celebrate the union of these loves; The Heavens do smile the Earth and all conspire, To make the joys of thy blessed time entire. Come forth fair Bride, what wouldst thou be. Wedded to Virginity? Haste to the Temple, do not stay, Kill not him with thy delay, Whose expectations calls each hour a day, Lo now breaks forth the beauteous dame, Like Lightnings sudden flame; Her high insinuating power's such, It melts the soul, but not the body touch; The Bridegroom all do envy, each should be The principal in this solemnity, But now to Church they walk, And each man's talk, Is of the happy pair, And what will be Done when they united are, They prophecy. They're busy tongues on that do clink, The Ladies will not speak but think, Now to the Temple they draw near, Where jolly Hymen does appear Without his Saffron Robe, that there might be No emblem of ensuing jealousy. The Priest begins, their hearts and hands he joins, And their loves with the mystery refines; The Bridegroom than Curses the slow paced Vicar, That in the Ceremony is no quicker. Now home they go to eat, to drink, to dance, And at the Bride to glance. The lusty Bridegroom's Springtide of his blood, Swells in a purple flood, Which puts him to such pains, In his distended veins, It longs to ebb, and now the night has hurled. Her Sable Curtains over half the world, When we by whisper descry, A Plot against Virginity. The Ladies steal the Bride away, Th' impatient Bridegroom brooks no stay, But slinks away and thither all do swarm, The Bridal Ceremonies to perform; Then we withdraw, nor may the Candles stay, 'Cause they are emblems of th' unwished for day. My Muse dare say no more, but leaves the theme To every man and woman that night's dream. Song 198. WHen Celia I intent to flatter you, And tell you lies to make you true I swear There's none so fair, There's none so fair, And you believe it too. Oft have I matched you with the Rose, and said, No twins so like hath Nature made; But 'tis Only in this, Only in this, You prick my hand and fade. Oft have I said there is no precious stone, But may be found in you alone, Though I, No stone espy, No stone espy, Unless your heart be one. When I praise your skin, I quote the wool, The Silkworms from their entrails pull, And show, That new fallen snow, That new fallen snow, Is not more beautiful. Yet grow not proud by such Hyperboles, Were you as excellent as these While I, Before you lie, Before you lie, They might be had with ease. Song 199. A Maiden of late, Whose Name was Sweet Kate, Was dwelling in London, near to Aldersgate; Now list to my Ditty, declare it I can, She would have a child without help of a man. To a Doctor she came, A man of great fame, Whose deep skill in Physic report did proclaim, Quoth she, Master Doctor, show me if you can, How I may conceive without help of a man. Then listen, quoth he, Since so it must be, This wondrous strong Medicine I'll show presently: Take nine pound of Thunder, six legs of a Swan, And you shall conceive without help of a man. The wool of a Frog, The juice of a Log, Well parboiled together in the Skin of a Hog, With the Egg of a Mooncalf, if get it you can, And you shall conceive without help of a man. The love of false Harlots, The faith of false Varlets, With the truth of Decoys that walk in their Scarlets, And the feathers of a Lobster well fried in a pan, And you shall conceive without help of a man. Nine drops of Rain, Brought hither from Spain, With the blast of a Bellows quite over the Main. With eight quarts of Brimstone, brewed in a Beer-can, And you shall conceive without help of a man. Six pottles of Lard, Squeezed from a Rock hard, With nine Turkey Eggs, each as long as a yard, With a Pudding of Hailstones well baked in a pan, And you shall conceive without help of a man. These Medicines are good, And approved have stood, Well tempered together with a pottle of blood, Squeezed from a Grasshopper, and the nail of a Swan, To make Maids conceive without help of a man. Song 200. NO man loves fiery passion can approve, As yielding either pleasure or promotion; I like a mild, and lukewarm zeal in Love, Although I do not like it in devotion. For it hath no coherence with my Creed, To think that Lovers mean as they pretend, If all that said they died, had died indeed, Sure long ere this the world had had an end. Some one perhaps in long Consumption dried, And after falling into love, might die: But I dare swear he never yet had died, Had he been half so sound at heart as I. Another rather than incur the slander Of true A postate, will false Martyr prove; I'll neither Orpheus be, nor yet Leander, I'll neither hang, nor drown myself for love. Yet I have been a Lover by report, And I have died for love as others do, Praised be great jove, I died in such a sort, As I revived within an hour or two. Thus have I lived, thus have I loved till now, And ne'er had reason to repeat me yet, And whosoever otherwise will do, His courage is as little as wit. Song 201. WHat creatures on earth, Can boast freer mirth, Less envied and loved than we? Though Learning grow poor, We scorn to implore A gift, but what's noble and free. Our freedom of mind, Cannot be confined, With riches beware inwardly blest; Nor death, nor the grave, Our worths can deprave, Nor malice our ashes molest: When such moles as you, Your own earth shall move, And worms shall your Memory eat; Our names being read, Shall strike Envy dead, And Ages our worth shall repeat. Song 201. WHen I see the young men play, Young methinks I am as they, And my aged thoughts laid by, To the Dance with joy I fly; Come, a flowery Chaplet lend me, Youth and mirthful thoughts attend me, Age be gone, we'll dance among Those that young are, and be young: Bring some wine boy, fill about, You shall see the old man's stout; Who can laugh and tipple too, And be mad as well as you. Song 202. BRight Cynthia scorns, Alone to wear horns, To her Sex's grief and shame; But swears in despite Of the world's great light, That men shall wear the same. The man in the moon, To hear this in a swoon, And quite out of his wits fell, And with this affront, (Quoth he) a pox on't, My forehead begins to swell. A way straight he wood, In his Lunatic mood, And from his Mistress would run; And swore in his heat, Though stewed in his sweat, He had rather go dwell in the Sun. But he was appeased, To see other men pleased, And none that did murmur or mourn; For without an affright, Each man with delight, Did take to himself the horn. The Lord he will go, In his Park to and fro, Pursuing the Deer that is barren; But whilst he's in's Park, His Steward or Clark, May boldly go hunt in his warren. The Citizen Clown, In his foxfured Gown, And his Doublet faced with Ale, Talks slow, and drinks quicker, Till his wife like his liquor Leaves working and relisheth stale. Lo thus she behorns him, And afterwards scorns him, Though he come to be major of the rout; And thinks it no sin, To be well occupved within, While her Husband i● busy without. The Puritan will go, Ten miles to and fro, To hear a sanctify'd Brother; But whilst his zeal burns, His wife she up turns The egg's of her eyes to another. The Lawyer to succour 'em, With Parchment and Buckr'um, To London the next way will strike; But whilst he opens his case, To his adversaries face, His wife to her friend doth the like. The Physician will ride, To his Patient that died Of no disease but that he did come; But whilst abroad he doth kill, With Potion and Pill, His wife takes a glister at home. The Merchant o're-runs, The Sea with his Guns, His Mariners and their Mates, But whilst he doth please Himself on the broad Seas, Another may ride on his straits. The Soldier will go, Like a man to his foe, With brave resolution to fight, Whilst his wife with her friends, In her wanton arms spends Time, and makes him a beast by night. And though that he be, Well armed Cap a Pee, He must yield to a naked boy's scorn, And instead of bright Steel, And hard Iron, he●l Be content with a hard piece of Horn. Thus all men will love Their wives, though they prove Them false even in their own sight, But yet they do well, For a Horn you can tell, Was always a friend to the night. Song 203. COme away bring on the Bride, And place her by her Lover's side; You fair troop of maids attend her, Pure and holy thoughts befriend her. Blush and wish you Virgins all, Many such fair nights may fall. Chor. Hymen fill the house with joy, All thy sacred fires employ; Bless the bed with holy love, Now fair Orb of Beauty move. Song 204. AT dead low ebb of night, when none But great Charl's wain was driven on; When mortals strict cessation keep, To recreate themselves with sleep, 'Twas then a boy knocked at my gate, Who's there, said I▪ that calls so late? Oh let me in he soon replied, I am a Child, and then he cried, I wander without light or guide, ●ost in this wet, blind, moonless night. In pity than I rose, And strait unbar'd my door, and sprang a light, Behold it was a boy, a sweeter sight — Ne'er blessed mine eye; I viewed him round and saw strange things, A Bow, a Quiver, and two wings, I led him to the sire, and then I dried and chafed his hands with mine; I gently pressed his tresses curls, Which new fallen rain had hung with Pearls; At last when warm, the younker said, Alas my Bow, I am afraid The string is wet, pray Sir, let's try My Bow; on that, do, do, said I, He bent and shot so quick and smart, As through my Liver reached my heart; Then in a trice he took his flight, And laughing said, my bow is right: It is, oh 'tis, for as he spoke, 'Twas not his Bow, but my heart broke. Song 205. THe Beard thick or thin, On the lip or chin, Doth dwell so near the tongue, That her silence In the beards defence, May do her Neighbour wrong. Now a beard is a thing, That commands in a King, Be his Sceptre ne'er so fair? Where the beard bears the sway, The people obey, And are subject to a hair▪ 'Tis a Princely sight, And a grave delight, That adorns both young and old; A well thatched face, Is a comely grace, And a shelter from the cold. When the piercing North, Comes blustering forth, Let a barren face beware; For a trick it will find, With a razor of wind, To shave the face that's bare. But there's many a nice, And strange device, That doth the beard disgrace; But he that is in, Such a foolish sin, Is a traitor to his face. Now of Beards there be, Such a company, And fashions such a throng, That it is very hard, To handle a beard, Though it be ne'er so long. The Roman T In its bravery, Doth first its self disclose▪ But so high it turns, That oft it burns, With the ●lam●s of a To●●d nose. The Stiletto beard, Oh it makes me afeared It is so sharp beneath, For he that doth place, A dagger in's his face, What wears he in his sheathe? But methinks I do itch, To go through stitch, The needle beard to amend, Which without any wrong, I may call too long, For a man can see no end. The Soldier's beard, Doth march in sheared, In figure like a spade; With which he'll make, His enemies quake, And think their Graves are made. The grim stubble eke, On the Judge's cheek, Shall not my Verse despise, It is more fit For a Nutmeg, but yet It grates poor Prisoners eyes. What doth invest, A Bishop's breast. But a Milk-white spreading hair, Which an Emblem may be, Of integrity, Which doth inhabit there. I have also seen, On a woman's chin, A hair or two to grow, But alas the face, Is too cold a place, Then look for a beard below, But Oh let us tarry, For the beard of King Harry, That grows about the chin, With his bushy pride, And a Grove on each side, And a Champion ground between. Last, the clown doth out rush With his beard like a brush, Which may be well endured, For though his face, Be in such case, His Land was well manured. Song 206. FAir Mistress I would gladly know, What thing it is you cherish so, What instrument and from whence bred, Is that you call a Maidenhead? Is it a spirit, or the treasure Lovers lose in height of pleasure? If it be so, in vain you keep, That waking which you lose in sleep; But since you know not, I will tell ye, It is a spring beneath your belly, Fruit that alone you cannot taste, And barren seed till it you waste; Metal that musts for want of using, A Gem most precious when 'tis losing. A sweet and pleasing sacrifice, Then chief living when it dies. A wealth that makes the unthrift blest, An instrument that soundest best, (A wonder to be heard or spoke) When the string in two is broke. Then let us offer love his due, My Maidenhead I'll give to you, And in exchange receive another, What would you more, there's one for th' other. Song 207. A Dialogue between Orpheus and Charon. Orph. CHaron, O Charon, Thou wafter of the souls to bliss or ban●. Cham Who calls the Ferryman of Hell? Orp. Come near, And say who lives in joy, and whom in fear. Cham Those that die well, eternal joys shall follow. Those that die ill, their own soul fate shall swallow. Orph. Shall thy black barque those guilty spirits stow, That kill themselves for love? Char. O No, O no. My cordage cracks when such great sins are near, No wind blows fair, nor I myself can steer. Orph. What Lovers pass, and in Elysium reign? Cham Those gentle loves that are beloved again, Orph. This Soldier loves, and fain would die to win, Shall he go on? Char. No, 'tis too foul a sin. He must not come aboard: I dare not row, Storms of despair, and guilty blood will blow. Orph. Shall time release him, say? Char. No, no, no, no, Nor time, nor death can alter us, nor prayer; My boat is destiny, and who then dare But those appointed come aboard; live still, And love by reason mortal, not by will. Orph. And when thy Mistress shall close up thine eyes Char. Then come aboard and pass, Chorus Orph. Till then be wise, Char. Till then be wise. Song 208. LOok out bright eyes, and bless the air, Even in shadows you are fair. Shut up Beauty is like fire, That breaks out clearer still and higher. Though your body be confined, And sought love a Prisoner bound; Yet the Beauty of your mind, Neither check, nor chain hath found: Look out nobly then, and dare, Even the fetters that you wear. Song 209. SUre 'twas a dream, how long fond man have I, Been fooled into Captivity; My Newgate was my want of wit, I did myself commit, My bonds I knit. I mine own Gaoler was the only foe, That did my freedom disavow; I was a Prisoner, cause I would be so. But now I will shake off my chains and prove, Opinion built the Goals of Love; Made all his bonds, gave him his bow, His bloody arrows too, That murder so. Nay, those dire deaths which idle Lovers dream, Were all contrived to make a theme, For some carowzing Poets drunken flame. 'twas a fine life I lived, when I did dress Myself to court your peevishness; When I did at your footstool lie, Expecting from your eye, To live or die. Now smiles, or frowns, I care not which I have, Nay rather than I'll be your slave, I'll court the Plagues to send me to my grave. Farewell those charms that did so long bewitch. Farewell that wanton youthful itch; Farewell that treacherous blinking boy, That proffers seeming joy, So to destroy, To all those night embraces which as you, Know very well were not a few; For ever, ever more, I bid adieu. Now I can stand the sallies of your eyes, In vain are all those batteries, Nor can that love dissembling stile, Nor can that crafty smile, Longer beguile. Nor those hard traps which each hour you renew, To all those witchcrafts and to you, For ever, ever more, I bid adieu. Song 120. HOld, hold, thy nose to the Pot, Tom, Tom. And hold thy nose to the Pot, Tom, Tom, 'tis thy pot, and my pot, And my pot, and thy pot, Sing hold thy nose to the pot, Tom, Tom. 'Tis Malt that will cure thy Maw, Tom. And will heal thy distempers in Autumn; ●elix qui facient, I prithee be patient, Aliena pericula cantum. Then hold thy Nose ●o the pot, Tom, Tom, Hold, hold thy Nose to the pot, Tom, Tom, Neither Parson nor Vicar, But will toss off his Liquor Sing hold thy Nose to the pot, Tom, Tom. Song 211. NOw I confess I am in love, Though I did think I never could, But 'tis with one dropped from above, Whose nature's made of finest mould; So fair, so good, so all divine, I'd quit the world to make her mine. Have you not seen the Stars retreat, When Sol salutes our Hemisphere? So shrink the Beauties called great, When sweet Rosela doth appear; Were she as other women are, I should not love, nor yet despair. But I could never bear a mind Willing to stoop to common faces; Nor confidence enough can find To aim at one so full of graces; Fortune and Nature did agree, No woman should be wed by me. Song 212. WIth an old motley Coat, and a Mumsie Nose, And an old Jerkin that's out at the elbows, And an old pair of boots drawn on without hose, Stuffed with rags in stead of Toes. And an old soldier of the Queens, And the Queen's old soldier. With an old rusty Sword that's hacked with blows, And an old Dagger to scare away the Crows, And an old Horse that reels as he goes, And an old Saddle that no man knows, And an old soldier of the Queens, And the Queen's old soldier. With his old wounds in Eighty eight, Which he recovered at Tilbury Fight, With an old Passport that never was read, That in his old travels stood him in great stead; And an old soldier of the Queens, And the Queen's old soldier. With his old Gun, and his Bandeliers, With an old Head-piece to keep warm his ears, With an old Shirt is gone to wrack, With a great Louse and a list on his back, Is able to carry a Pedlar and his pack. And an old soldier of the Queens, And the Queen's old soldier. With an old Quean to lie by his side, That in old time had been pockisied: He's now rid to Bohemia to fight with his foes, And he swears by his valour he'll have better clothes, Or else he'll lose Legs, Arms, Fingers, and Toes, And he'll come again, when no man knows, Like an old soldier of the Queens, And the Queen's old soldier. Song 21●. WIth an old Song made by an old ancient pate, Of an old worshipful Gentleman who had a great estate Who kept an old house at a bountiful rate And an old Porter to relieve the poor at his gate, Like an old Courtier of the Queens, etc. With an old Lady whose anger 'tis good words assuages Who every quarter pays her old servants their wages Who never kn●w what belongs to Coachmen, Footmen, and Pages. But kept twenty old fellows with blue coats & badges, Like an old Courtier, etc. With an old Study filled full of learned Books, With an old reverend Parson; you may judge him by his looks, With an old Buttery Hatch worn quite off the old Hooks, And an old Kitchen, which maintains half a dozen old Cooks, Like an old, etc. With an old Hall hung round about with Guns, Pikes, and Bows, With old Swords and Bucklers, which have born many shrewd blows, And an old Frysado coat to cover his Worship's Trunk-Hose, And a Cup of old Sherry to comfort his Copper Nose, Like an old, etc. With an old fashion when Christmas is come, To call in his neighbours with Bagpipe and Drum, And good cheer enough to furnish every old Room, And old Liquor able to make a Cat speak, and a wise man dumb, Like an old, etc. With an old Huntsman, a Falconer, and a Kennel of Hounds, Which never hunted nor hawked, but in his own Grounds, Who like an old wise man, kept himself within his own bounds, And wh●n he died gave every child a thousand old pounds, Like an old, etc. But to his elder Son his House and Lands he assigned, Charging him in his Will, to keep the old bountiful mind, To love his good old servants, and to neighbours be kind: But in the ensuing Ditty, you shall hear how he was inclined, Like a young courtier of the Kings, etc. Like a young Gallant newly come to his Land, That keeps a brace of whores at his own command, And takes up a thousand pounds upon's own Land, And ●eth drunk in a new Tavern till he can neither go nor stand, Like a young, etc. With a neat Lady that is frisk and fair, Who never knew what belonged to good House-keeping, or care, But buys several Fans to play with the wanton Air, And seventeen or eighteen dress of other men's hair, Like a young, etc. With a new Hall built where the old one stood, Wherein is burned neither Coal, nor Wood, And a new Shuffle-board Table, smooth and red as blood, Hung round with Pictures, which doth the poor little good, Like a young, etc. With a new Study stuffed full of Pamphlets and Plays, With a new Chaplain that swears faster than he prays, With a new Buttery Hatch that opens once in four or five days, With a new French Cook to make Kickshaws and Toys, Like a young, etc. With a new fashion when Christmas was come, With a new Journey up to London we must be gone, And leave no body at home, but our new Porter john, Who relieves the poor with a thump on the back with a stone. Like a young, etc. With a Gentleman-Usher, whose Carriage is complete, With a Footman, a Coachman, a Page to carry meat, With a Waiting-Gentlewoman, whose Dressing is very neat, Who when the Master has dined, le's the Servants not eat. Like a young, etc. With a new Honour bought with his Father's old gold, That many of his Father's old Manors hath sold, And this is the occasion that most men do hold, That good House-keeping is now adays grown so cold Like a young Courtier of the Kings, Oh the King's young Courtier. Song 214. WIth a new Beard but lately trimmed, With a new Love-lock neatly combed, With a new Favour snatched or nimbed, With a new Doublet French like limbed, With a new Gate as if he swim'd, And a new soldier of the Kings, Oh the King's new soldier. With a new Feather in his Cap, With new white Boots without a strap, And newly paid for, by great hap; With a new Quean upon his lap, And a new Brat that ne'er eat pap, And a new, etc. With a new Hat without a Band, With a new Office without Land, With all his fingers on his hand, With a new face at Plymouth tanned, And a new horse already pawned, And a new, etc. With a new Cassock lined with Cotten, With Cardecues to call his Pot in, With a new Gun that ne'er was shot in, Under a new Captain very hot in A new Command, and hardly gotten. And a new, etc. With a new Head-piece shot, ne'er hit, With a new Head of greenish wit, With new Shirts without louse or nit, With a new Band, not torn as yet, With a new Spear, and very fit, For a new, etc. With a new Jacket made of Buff, With new Sleeves of Spanish stuff, With a new Belt of Leather enough; With new Tobacco-pipes to puff, And a new Brawl to take in snuff, Like a new, etc. He's newly come to sixteen years, And gone abroad with his Mother's tears, With his Monmouth Cap about his ears, With new Bravadoes void of fears, And a new Oath by which he swears To be a new, etc. With a new Nose that ne'er met foe, With a new Sword that ne'er struck blow, With a new red Breech to make a show, With a new Copper Lace or two, And new Points on his wings also, To a new Country he will go, To drink old Sack, and do no moe, Like a new soldier of the Kings, Oh, the King's new soldier. Catch, Or Song 215. THe Hunt is up, the Hunt is up, And now it is almost day, And he that's a bed with another man's wife, It's time to get him away. Mock-Song 216. OH Love! whose power and might, No creature e'er withstood, Thou forcest me to write, Come turn about Robin Hood. Sole Mistress of my heart, Let me thus far presume, To crave in this request, A black patch for the Rheum, Grant pity, or I die, Love so my heart bewitches, With grief I howl and cry; Oh how my Elbow itches. Tears overflow my sight▪ With floods of daily weeping, That in the silent night, I cannot rest for sleeping. What ist I would not do To purchase one sweet smile? Bid me to China go, I'faith I'll sit still the while. Oh women you will never, But think men still will flatter; I vow I love you ever, But yet it is no matter. Cupid is blind, they say, But yet methinks he seeth; He struck my heart to day, A Turd in Cupid's Teeth. Her Tresses that were wrought, Much like the golden snare, My loving heart hath caught, As Moss did catch his Mare. But since that all relief, And comforts do forsake me, I'll kill myself with grief, Nay then, the devil take me. And since her grateful merits My loving look must lack, I'll stop my vital spirits With Claret and with Sack. Mark well my woeful hap, jove, rector of the Thunder, Send down thy Thunderclap, And rend her Smock in sunder. Mock-Song, in Answer. YOur Letter I received, Bedecked with flourishing quarters Because you are deceived, Go hang you in your Garters. My beauty, which is none, Yet such as you protest; Doth make you sigh and groan; Fie, fie, you do but jest. I cannot choose but pity Your restless mournful tears, Because your plaints are witty, You may go shake your ●ars. To purchase your delight, No labour you shall lose, Your pains I will requite; Maid, give him some bread and cheese. 'Tis you I fain would see, 'Tis you I daily think on; My looks as kind shall be, As the Devils over Lincoln. If ever I do tame, Great jove of Lightnings flashes, I'll send my fiery flame, And burn thee into ashes. I can by no means miss thee, But needs must have thee one day; I prithee come and kiss me, Whereon I sat on Sunday. Song 217. IF she be fair, I fear the rest, If she be sweet, I'll hope the best, If she be fair, they say she'll do, If she be foul, she'll do so too; If she be fair, she'll breed suspect, If she be foul, she'll breed neglect. If she be born o'th' better sort, Then she doth savour of the Court; If she be of the City born, She'll give the City Arms, the Horn, If she be born of Parents base, I scorn her Virtues for her place; If she be fair and witty too, I fear the harm h●r wit may do. If she be fair and wanteth wit, I love no beauty without it. In brief, be what she will, I'm one That can love all, but will wed none. Song 21●. THere's none but the glad man, Compared to the mad man, Whose heart is still empty of care; His fits and his fancies Are above all mischances, And mirth is his ordinary fair: Then be thou mad, and he made, mad all let us be, There's no men leads lives more merry than we. Song 219. GAze not on thy Beauty's pride, Tender Maid in the false tide That from Lover's eyes do slide. Let thy faithful Crystal show How thy colours come and go, Beauty takes a foil from wo. Love that in those smooth streams lies, Under Pity's fair disguise, Will thy melting heart surprise. Nets of Passions finest thread, (Snaring Poems) will be spread, All to catch thy Maidenhead. Then beware, for those that cure Loves disease, themselves endure For reward, a Calenture. Rather let the Lover pine, Than his pale cheek should assign A perpetual blush to thine. Song 220. A Beggar got a Bailiff, A Bailiff got a Yeoman, A Yeoman got a Apprentice, A Apprentice got a Freeman, A Freeman got a Master, And he begot a Tease, And soon became a Gentleman, Then a Justice of Peace; This Justice got a Daughter, And she is come to light, She stepped into the Court, And there she got a Knight. A Knight got a Lord, A Lord an Earl begot, An Earl got a Duke, This Duke he was a Scot: This Duke a Prince begot, A Prince of Royal hope, He begot an Emperor, The Emperor a Pope. The Pope got a Bastard, He was a Noble Spark, He lay with a Nun, And so begot a Clark. A Clerk got a Sexton, A Sexton got a Vicar, A Vicar got a Parson, And all of them got liquor, Till they were all made prebend's, And so they got a Dean, A Dean got a Bishop, A Bishop got a Quean. Song 221. I'll Sing you a Sonnet that ne'er was in Print, 'Tis truly and newly come out of the Mint, I'll tell you beforehand, you●l find nothing in't. On nothing I think, and on nothing I write, 'Tis nothing I court, yet nothing I slight, Nor care I a pin, if I get nothing by't. Fire, Air, Earth, and Water, B●asts, Birds, Fish, and Men, Did start out of nothing, a Chaos, a Den; And all things shall turn into nothing ag●n. 'Tis nothing sometimes makes many things hit, As when fools among wise men do silently sit, A fool that says nothing, may pass for a wit. What one man loves is another man's loathing, This blade loves a quick thing, that loves a slow thing, And both do in the conclusi'on love nothing. Your Lad that makes love to a delicate smooth thing And thinking with sighs to gain her and soothing, Frequently makes much ado about nothing. At last when his Pat'ence and Purse is decayed, He may to the bed of a Whore be betrayed; But she that hath nothing, must need be a maid. Your flashing, and clashing, and slashing of wit, Doth start out of nothing, but fancy and fit; 'Tis little or nothing to what hath been writ. When first by the ●ars we together did fall, Then something got nothing, and nothing got all; From nothing it came, and to nothing it shall. That party that sealed to a Covenant in haste, Who made our 3 Kingdoms, and Churches lie waste; Their project, and all came to nothing at last. They raised an Army of Horse, and of Foot, To tumble down Monarchy, Branches and Root; They thundered, and plundered, but nothing would do't. The Organ, the Altar, and Ministers clothing, In Presbyter jack begot such a loathing, That he must needs raise a petty New- nothing, And when he had rebed us in sanct'fied clothing, Perjured the people by faithing and trothing. At last he was catched, and all came to nothing. In several Fact●ons we quarrel and brawl, Dispute, and contend, and to fight we fall; I'll lay all to nothing, that nothing wins all. When War, and Rebellion, and Plundering grows, The Mendicant man is the freest from foes, For he is most happy hath nothing to lose. Brave Caesar, and Pompey, and Great Al'xander, Whom Armies followed as Goose follows Gander, Nothing can say t' an action of slander. The wisest great Prince, were he never so stout, Though conquer the world, and give mankind a Rout, Did bring nothing in, nor shall bear nothing out. Old Noll that arose 〈◊〉 High-thing, 〈◊〉 Low-thing, By brewing Rebellion, Nicking, and Frothing, In seven years distance was All-things, and nothing. Dick (oliver's Heir) that pitiful slow-thing, Who once was invested with Purple-clothing, Stands for a cipher, and that stands for nothing. If King-killers bold are excluded from bliss, Old Bradshaw (that feels the reward on't by this) Had better been nothing, than what now he is. Blind Colonel Hewson, that lately did crawl To lofty degree, from a low Cobbler's stall, Did bring Awl to nothing, when Awl came to all. Your Gallant that Rants it in Dell'cate clothing, Though lately he was but a pit'ful low-thing, Pays Landlord, Draper, and Tailor with nothing. The nimble-tongued Lawyer that pleads for his pay, When death doth Arrest him and bear him away, At the Gen'ral Bar will have nothing to say. Whores that in silk were by Gallants embraced, By a rabble of Prentices lately were chased, Thus Courting, and sporting, comes to nothing at last. If any man tax me with weakness of wit, And say that on nothing, I nothing have writ, I shall answer, Ex nihilo, nihil fit. Yet let his discret'on be never so tall, This very word nothing shall give it a fall, For writing of nothing I comprehend all. Let every man give the Poet his due, 'Cause than it was with him, as now it's with you; He studied it when he had nothing to do. This very word nothing, if took the right way, May prove advantag'ous, for what would you say, If the Vintner should cry, there's nothing to pay. Song 222. BY Heaven I'll tell her boldly that 'tis she, Why ●●●uld she ashamed or angry be, That she's beloved by me? The Gods may give their Altars o'er; They'll smoak but seldom any more, If none but happy men must them adore. The lightning which tall Oaks oppose in vain, To strike sometimes does not disdain, The humbler Furzes of the plain. She being so high, and I so low, Her power by this doth greater show, Who at such distance gives so sure a blow. Compared with her all things so worthless prove, That nought on earth can towards her move, Till 't be exalted by her love. Equal to her, alas, there's none; She like a Deity is grown, That must create, or else must be alone. If there be man who thinks himself so high, As to pretend equality, He deserves her less than I. For he would cheat for his relief, And one would give with lesser grief, To an undeserving beggar than a thief. Song 223. WHen I drain my Goblets deep, All my cares are rocked asleep, Rich as Croesus, Lord o'th' earth, Chanting Odes of wit and mirth, And with Ivy Garlands crowned, I can kick the Globe round, round. Let others fight while I drink, Boy, my Goblet fill to th' brink; Come fill it high, fill it high, That I may but drink and die. For when I lay down my head, 'Tis better to be drunk, 'Tis better to be drunk, Dead drunk, than dead. Song 224. Be not thou so foolish nice, As to be invited twice; What should women more incite, Than their own sweet appetite? Shall savage things more freedom have, Than Nature unto woman gave? The Swan, the Turtle, and the Sparrow, Bill and Kiss, then take the Marrow; They Bill and Kiss, what then they do, Come Bill and Kiss, and I'll show you. Song 225. PHillis on the new made hay, Phillis on the new made hay, In a wanton posture lay, Thinking no shepherd nigh her, But Amintas came that way, And threw himself down by her. Hotly he pursued the game, Hotly he pursued the game, She cried pish▪ and fie for shame; I vow you shall not do it; But the youth soon overcame, And eagerly fell to it. When alas to vex her more, When alas to vex her more, He e'er she began gave o'er; For such was the adventure, He made his compliment at door. And could not stay to enter. In great rage she flung away, In great rage she flung away, He ashamed, and breathless lay; But though he had displeased her, He rallied, and renewed the fray, And manfully appeased her, Song 226. COme jack, let's drink a Pot of Ale, And I shall tell thee such a tale Will make thine ears to ring: My Coin is spent, my time is lost, And I this only fruit can boast, That once I saw my King. But this doth most afflict my mind, I went to Court in hope to find,, Some of my friends in place: And walking there I had a sight Of all the Crew, but by this light, I hardly knew one face. 'Slife of so many noble Sparks, Who on their bodies bear the marks Of their integrity, And suffered ruin of Estate, It was my base unhappy fate, That I not one could see. Not one upon my life, among My old acquaintance all along, At Truro and before: And I suppose the place can show, As few of those whom thou didst know, At York or Marston Moor. But truly there are swarms of those Whose chins are beardless, yet their Nose And backsides still wear Muffs: Whilst the old rusty Cavalier Retires, or dares not once appear, For want of Coin and Cuffs. When none of those I could descry, Who better far deserved than I, I calmly did reflect: Old servants they by rule of state, Like Almanacs grow out of date, What then can I expect? Troth in contempt of fortune's frown, I'll get me fairly out of town, And in a Cloister pray: That since the Stars are yet unkind To Royalists, the King may find More faithful friends than they, Song 227. I Marvel Dick that having been So long abroad, and having seen The world as thou hast done: Thou shouldst acquaint me with a tale, As old as Nectar, and as stale, As that of Priest and Nun. Are we to learn what is a Court? A Pageant made for fortune's sport, Where merits scarce appear: For bashful merits only dwells In Camps, in Villages, and Cells, Alas it comes not there. Desert is nice in its address, And merit oft times doth oppose Beyond what guilt would do; But they are sure of their demands, That come to Court with Golden hands, And brazen faces too. The King indeed doth still profess, To give his party soon redress, And cherish honesty; But his good wishes prove in vain, Whose service with the servants gain, Not always doth agree. Ah Princes be they ne'er so wise, Are fain to see with others eyes, But seldom hear at all, And Courtiers find their interest, In time to feather well their Nest, Providing for their fall. Our comfort doth on him depend, Things when they are at worst will mend. And let us but reflect On our condition another's day, When none but Tyrants bore the sway, What did we then expect? Mean while a calm retreat is best, But discontent if not suppressed, May breed Disloyalty: This is the constant Note I'll sing, I have been faithful to my King, And so shall live and die. Song 228. 'TWas then we had a thriving Trade, When Lackeys brought our work unto us; The Lady with her Amorous blade Then did Compliment and woe us, But now the world's turned upside down, The Righteous too are monstrous wicked. The Vest, the Tunick, and the Gown, Hang all upon the feeble Ticket, And when a Dun is sent, like Lords They swear and swagger at their Tailor, But nor their Swords, Nor Dam words, Shall Hector, Constable, or Goaler. Song 229. PHillis I pray, Why did you say, That I did not adore you? I durst not sue, As other's do, Nor talk of love before you. Should I make known My flame, you'd frown, No tears could e'er appease you, 'Tis better I, Should silent die, Than talking to displease you. Song 230. COme Chloris high we to the Bower, To sport us ere the day be done. Such is thy power, That every slower Will open to thee as to the Sun. And if a slower, but chance to die, With my sighs blast, or mine eyes rain; Thou canst revive it with thine eye, And with thy breath make sweet again. The wanton Suckling and the Vine, Will strive for th' honour, who first may With their green Arms encircle thine, To keep the burning Sun away. Song 131. THough I am young, and cannot tell Either what Love or Death is well; And then again I have been told, Love wounds with heat, and Death with cold. Yet I have heard they doth bear Darts, And both do aim at humane hearts; So that I fear they do but bring Extremes to touch, and mean one thing. Song 132. UPon the Change where Merchants meet, 'Twixt Cornhill and Threadneedle-street, Where Wits of every size are hurled, To treat of all things in the world, I saw a folded Paper fall, And upon it, these words were writ, Have at all. Thought I, if have at all it be, For aught I know 'tis have at me; And (if the consequence be true) It may as well be have at you: Then listen pray to what I shall In brief declare, what's written there, Have at all. I am a Courtier who in sport, Do come from the Utopian Court, To whisper softly in your ear, How high we are, and what we were; To tell you all would be too much, But here and there a little touch. Have at all. I was not many years ago, In tattered trim from top to toe, But now my ruin'd robes are burned, My rags are all to Ribbons turned: My patches into Pieces fall, I cog a Die, swagger and lie, Have at all. Upon my Pantalonian Pate, I wear a Milliner's estate: But when he dun me at the Court, I show him a Protection for't; Whilst he doth to protesting fall, And then I cry, Damn, you lie▪ Have at all. Since Venus' shaved off all my hair, A powdered Periwig I wear, Which brings me in the Golden Girls, Wh●ch I procure for Lords and Earls; When Love doth for a Cooler call, My fancy drives at maids and wives, Have at all. My Lodgings never are in quiet, Another dun me for my Diet, I had of him in fifty three; Which I forget, so doth not he; I call him saucy fellow, Sirrah, And draw my Sword to run him thorough, Have at all. Yet once a Friend that saved my life, Who had a witty wanton wife, I did in courtesy requite, Made him a Cuckold, and a Knight; Which makes him mount like Tennis-ball, Whilst she and I, together cry, Have at all. But yet these Citts are subtle slaves, Most of them Wits, and knowing Knav●●; We get their Children, and they do From us get Lands, and Lordships too: And 'tis most fit in these affairs, The Land should go to the right Heirs, Have at all. A Soldier I directly hate; A Cavalier once broke my pate; With cane in hand he overcome me, And took away my Mistress from me; For I confess I love a wench, Though English, Irish, Dutch, or French, Have at all. A Soldier's life is not like mine; I will be plump, when he shall pine: My projects carry stronger force, Than all his Armed Foot and Horse; What though his Morter-pieces roar, My Chimney-pieces shall do more, Have at all. Thus have I given you in short, A Courtier of Utopia Court, I write not of Religion, For (to tell truly) we have none, If any me to question call, With Pen, or Sword, Hab Nab's the word, Have at all. Song 233. POor jenny and I we toiled, A long long Summer's day, Till we were almost spoilt, With making of the Hay. Her Kerchief was of holland clear Bound low upon her brow, I see whispered something in h●r ear, ●ut what's that to you? Her Stockings were of Kersey green, Well stitched with yellow silk, ●h! sike a leg was never seen, Her skin as white as Milk. Her hair was black as any Crow, And sweet her mouth was too, Oh! jenny daintily could mow, But what's that to you? Her Petticoats were not so low, As Ladies now do wear 'em; She needed not a Page I trow, For I was by to bear 'em; I'z took 'em up all in my hand, And I think her Linen too, Which made a friend of mine to stand, But what's that to you? King Solomon had wives enough, And Concubines a Number; Yet I'z possess more happiness, And he had more of Cumber; My joy surmounts a Wedded life, With fear she lets me mow, A Wench is better than a wife, But what's that to you? The Lily and the Rose combine To make my jenny fair, There's no contentment sike as mine, I'm almost void of care. But yet I fear my Ienny's face, Will cause more men to woe, Which I shall take for a disgrace, But what's that to you? Song 234 AH! Celia, leave that cruel Art Of killing with those conquering eyes, Your triumph o'er a tender heart, Makes a sad Victim of your prize. Such Soldiers little Honour gain, As trample o'er a Captive slave; That use of Victory is vain, Pursues the Foe unto his Grave. But prisoner-like as when reprieved, Sad sighs I will no more approve, Nor think 'tis happy to be grieved, Nor sacrifice myself too Love. Though 'tis most true, your Beauty last. As powerful as it was before, But having felt its fatal blasts, I'm warned to give devotion o'er. If now at last you will be kind, And just, as I have been to you, I then may once more change my mind, And be for ever, ever true. But if you will be cruel still, And constant zeal can nothing move, Then be you wedded to your will, And I'll divorce myself from love. Song 135. COok Laurel would have the Devil his Guest, And bade him home to Peak to Dinner, Where Fiend had never such a Feast, Prepared at the charge of a Sinner. With a hay Down, Down a Down, Down. His stomach was queasy, he came thither Coached, The joggings had caused his Cruets to rise, To help which, he called for a Puritan poached, That used to turn up the white of his eyes. With a H●y, etc. And so he recovered unto his wish, 〈◊〉 s●t him down, and began to eat: A Promoter in Plumb-broth was the first Dish, His own Privy-Kitchin had no such meat. With a H●y, etc. Yet though with this he much was taken, Upon a sudden he shifted his Trencher, As soon as he spied the Bawd and Bacon, By which you may know the Devil's a wencher. With a hay, etc. Six pickled Tailors sliced and cut, With Sempsters and Tirewomen fit for his pallet, With Feathermen and Perfumers, put Some twelve in a Charger, to make a Grand-sallet. With a hay, etc. A rich fat Usurer stewed in his marrow, With him a Lawyer's Head and Green-sawee, All which his belly took in like a Barrel, As though till then he had never seen Sawee. With a hay, etc. Then Carbonadoed and Cooked with pains, Was brought up a Sergeants cloven Face, The Sauce was made of a Yeoman's brains, That had been beaten out with his Mace. With a hay, etc. Two roasted Sheriffs came hot to the Board, The Feast had nothing been without them, Both living and dead were foxed and furred, And their Chains like Saucages hung about them. With a hay, etc. The next Dish was the Mayor of the Town, With a Pudding of Maintenance put in his belly, Like a Goose in her feathers, in his Gown, With a couple of Henchboys boiled to a Jelly. With a hay, etc. Next came the overworn Justice of Peace, With Clerks like Gizzards stuck under each arm▪ And Warrants like Sippets, lay in his own grease, Set over a Chafing-dish to be kept warm. With a hay, etc. A London Cuckold came hot from the Spit, And when the Carver open had broke him, The Devil chopped his head up at a bit, But his horns had almost like to choke him. With a hay, etc. A fair large Pastry of a Midwife hot, And for cold Baked meat in this story, A reverend painted Lady was brought, Long coffu●d in Crust till now she●s grown hoary. With a hay, etc. The loins of a Lecher than was roasted, With a plump Harlot's Head and Garlic; With a Panders Petti-toes that had boasted Himself for a Captain, that never was warlike. With a hay, etc. Then boiled and stuck upon a Prick, The Gizzard was brought of a holy Sister, That bit made the Devil almost so sick, That the Doctor did think he'd need of a Glister. With a hay, etc. The Jowl of a Jailor served for a Fish, A Constable soused pissed Vinegar by; Two Alderm●n Lobsters laid in a dish, A Deputy Tart, and a Churchwarden Pye. With a hay, etc. All which he devoured, then for a close, He did for a Draught of Derby call, He heaved the Vessel up to his Nose, ●nd never left till he had drunk up all. With a hay, etc. Then from the Table he gave a start, Where banquet and wine was not to seek, ●ll which he blew away with a Fart, From whence it●s called, Th' Devil's Arse in the Peak. With a hay Down, Down a Down, Down. Song 236. THirsis, Thirsis, I wish as well as you, To Honour, to Honour, there were nothing due, Then would I pay my debt of love, In that same Coin, In the same Coin which you approve; And now you must in friendship take, 'Tis all the payment I can make, Friendship so high, that I may say, 'Tis rather love, 'Tis rather love with some allay; Then rest contented, since that I As well myself, as you deny, And learn of me bravely to bear The loss of what I hold so dear; And that which Honour does in me, Let my example, My example work in thee. Song 237. OH! the little house that lies under the hill, Oh! the little house that lies under the hill, There's Ale, and Tobacco, and Wenches at will, Oh! the little house that lies under the hill. Song 238. ON a hill there grows a Flower, Fair befall the gentle Sweet, By that Flower there is a Bower, Where the heavenly Muses meet. In that Bower there is a Chair Fringed all about with Gold, Where doth sit the fairest Fair, Mortal ever did behold. It is Phillis fair and bright, She that is the Shepherd's Joy, She that Venus did despite, And did blind her little Boy. This is she, the wise, the rich, That the world desires to see; 〈◊〉 i● Ipsa quae, the which, There is none but only she. Who would not this face admire, Who would not this Saint adore? Who would not this sight desire, Though he thought to see no more? O fair eyes! but let me see, One good look, and I am gone, Look on me, for I am he, Thy poor filly Coridon. Thou that art the shepherd's Queen, Look upon thy silly swain, By thy virtues have been seen, Dead men brought to live again. Song 239. SInce life's but short, and time amain Flies on, and ne'er looks back again; Le's laugh and sing and merry be, And spend our hours in jollity. Good wine makes the Pope religiously given, And sends all the Monks, and little Friars to heaven, Then take a merry glass, Fill it just as it was, And let no man take it in dudgeon; He that makes any stir, Is no true drunken Cur, Hang him up that is a Curmudgeon. 'Twas Ioves refreshment when his mind was shrunk With cares, to make himself with Nectar drunk; So heavenly drunk, his brain ran like the spheres, Round, and made Music to his ears. He's a Right honest man, you may believe what he'll tell you. If he hath a jolly Nose, and a beautiful belly. Then take a merry glass, etc. Great Alexander to inflame his heart With courage, drank two Gallons and a quart At six go downs, and then in Raptures hurled, He went and conquered all the world, Darius lost Persia, and the Macedon won it, But if he had not been drunk he could never have done it. Then take a merry glass, etc. Song 240. LOve I must tell thee, I'll no longer be A Victim to thy beardless Deity; Nor shall this heart of mine, Now 'tis returned Be offered at thy shrine, Nor at thine Altar burned, Love like Religion's made an airy name, To awe those souls whom want of wit makes tame. There's no such thing as Quiver, Shaft, or Bow, Nor does Love wound, but we imagine so; Or if it does perplex, And grieve the mind, 'Tis in the Mase'line Sex, Women no sorrow find; 'Tis not our Parts or Persons that can move 'em, Nor ist men's worth, but wealth makes women love 'em. Reason, not love, henceforth shall be my guide, Our fellow creatures shan't be deified. I'll now a Rebel be, And so pull down, The Distaff Hierarchy, Or Females fancied Crown. In these unbridled times, who would not strive To free his neck from all prerogative? Song 241. THe Spring's coming on, and our Spirits begin To retire to their places merrily home, ●nd every soul is bound to lay in A new brewing of blood for the year that's to come. They're Cowards that make it of Clarified whey, Or swill with the swine in the Juice of the Grains; Give me the Racy Canary to play (And the sparkling Rhenish to vault) in my veins. Let Doctors go teach our lives are but short, And overmuch wine a new death will invite, But we'll be revenged before hand for't, And crown a lives mirth, with the space of a night. Then stand we about with our glasses full crowned, Whilst every thing else to their postures doth grow, Till our heads and our caps with the houses turn round, And the cellars become where the chambers are now. Then fill out more wine, 'twill a sacrifice bring, We'll tipple, and fiddle, and fuddle all out This night in full Draughts, with a health to our King, Till we baffle the States, and the Sun face about, Whose first rising Rays when shot from his throne, Shall dash upon faces as red as his own, And wonder that mortals can fuddle away More wine in a night than he water in a day. Song 242. LOve is a Bubble, No man is able To say it is this, or 'tis that, 'Tis so full of passions, Of sundry fashions, 'Tis like I cannot tell what. 'Tis fair in the Cradle, 'Tis foul in the Saddle, 'Tis either too cold, or too hot. An errand Liar, Fed by desire, It is, I and it is not. Love is a fellow, Clad all in yellow, The cankerworm of the mind, A privy mischief, And such a sly thief, As no man is able to find, Love is a wonder, 'Tis here, and 'tis yonder As common to one, as to more, So great a cheater, Every man's better, Then hang him, and so let him go. Song 243. DEar Love, let me this evening die, Oh smile not to prevent it; But use this opportunity, Lest we do both repent it; Frown quickly then, and break my heart, So that my way of dying, May though my life prove full of smart, Be worth the world's envying. Some striving knowledge to refine, Consume themselves with thinking, And some whose friendship's sealed in wine Are kindly killed with drinking. And some are racked on Indian coast, Thither by gain invited, And some in smoke of battle lost, Whom drums, not lutes delighted. Alas, how poorly these depart, Their graves still unattended, Who dies not of a broken heart, In love is not befriended; His memory is only sweet, All Praise no pity moving, Who fond at his mistress feet, Doth die with overloving. And now thou frownest, and now I die, My Corpse by Lovers followed Shall shortly by dead Lovers lie For that ground's only hallowed. If the priest take't ill, I have a grave, My death not well approving, The Poets my estate shall have, To teach the Art of loving, And now let Lovers ring the Bells For the poor youth departed, He which all others else excels, That are not brokenhearted. My grave with flowers let Virgins strew, But if thy tears fall near them, They'll so excel in scent and show, Thyself will shortly wear them: Such flowers how much will Flora prise, That on a Lover's growing, And watered by his Mistress eyes With pity overflowing? A grave so decked will (though thou art Yet fearful to come nigh me) Provoke thee strait to break thy heart And lie down boldly by me. Then every where the Bells shall ring, While all to black is turning, All Torch's burn, and each Choir sing, As Nature's self were mourning, And we hereafter may be found (By Destinies right placing) Making, like flowers, love under ground, Whose roots are still embracing. Song 244. YEs, I could love if I could find A Mistress pleasing to my mind, Whom neither pride, nor Gold can move, To buy her Beauty, sell her Love, Goes neat, yet cares not to be fine, Who loves me for myself, not mine. Not Lady proud, nor City coy, But full of freedom, full of Joy, Not childish young, nor Beldame old, Not fiery hot, nor Icy cold; Not gravely wise to guide a State, Nor vain, as to be pointed at; Not rich, nor proud; nor base, nor poor, Nor chaste, nor no reputed whore. When such a Lass I shall discover, Cupid entitle me a Lover. Song 245. YOu maidens, and wives, and young widows rejoice, Declare your thanksgiving with heart and with voice Since waters were waters, I dare boldly say There ne'er was such cause for a thanksgiving day; For from London Town, There's lately come down Four able Physicians that never wore Gown, Their Physic is pleasant, their Dose it is large, And you may be cured without danger or charge. No Bolus, no Vomit, no Potion, no Pill, (Which sometimes do cure, but oftener do kill,) Your taste, nor your stomach, need never displease, If you'll be advised but by one of these: For they've a new Drug, Which is call●d The close Hug, Which will mend your complexion, and make you look smug A sovereign Balsam which once well applied, Though grieved at the heart, the patient ne'er died. In the morning you need not be robbed of your rest, For in your warm beds your Physic doth best, And though in the taking some stir required, The motions so pleasant you cannot be tired, For on your back you must lie, With your buttock raised high, And one of these Doctors must always be by, Who still will be ready to cover you warm, For if you take cold, all physic doth harm. Before they do venture to give their direction, They always consider their patient's complexion, If she have a moist palm, or a red head of hair, She requires more physic than one man can spare, If she have a long Nose, The Doctor scarce knows How many good handsuls must go to her Dose. You Lady's that have such ill symptoms as these, In reason and conscience should pay double fees. But that we may give to these Doctors due praise, Who to all sorts of people their favours conveys, On the ugly for pity sake, skill shall be shown, And as for the handsome they're cured for their own, On you silver, or Gold, They never lay hold, For what comes so freely they scorn should be sold. Then join with these Doctors and heatily pray, Their power of healing may never decay. Catch or Song 246. POmpey was a mad man, a mad man, Pompey was a mad man, a mad man was he, So long he was a glad man, a glad man, So long he was a glad man, a glad man was he, Till Caesar in Pharsalia, routed his Battalia, 'Cause he was a madder, a madder far than he, Then be thou mad, and I mad, and mad let us be, And the Devil himself shan't be madder than we. Song 247. OH Anis quoth he, well Thomas quoth she, What wouldst thou say man unto me? I love thee quoth he, dost love me quoth she, Ch'me the more beholding to thee. To bed then quoth he, no Thomas quoth she, Not till the parson hath said all unto me, I'z bump thee quoth he, wilt bump me quoth she, Ch'im the more beholding to thee. How lik'st it quoth he, well Thomas quoth she, So thou com'st but once more unto me, That I will quoth he, sayst thou so quoth she, Ch'im the more beholding to thee. Song 248. BOnny Kate, Kenny Kate, lay thy leg o'er me, Thou be'st a bonny Lass, fain would I mow thee, Feign would I mow thee, ans thou wouldst let me, Bonny Kate, Kenny Kate, do not forget me. Out away jonny lad, I'll am a Virgin, There is no hope for thee for to get pergin, For to get pergin, I dare not let thee, Out away jonny lad, I'se must forget thee. Thou be'st young, so is I, let us be doing, There is no better thing than to be mowing, Than to be mowing, ans thou wouldst let me, Bonny Kate, Kenny Kate, do not forget me. Why dost thou whimper so, thou knowst my mind Io, Would mother suffer me, I would be kind Io, I would be kind Io, a●'s she would let me, Bonny lad, jonny lad, I see ne'er forget thee. Song 249. I Went to the Alehouse as an honest woman shooed, And a knave followed after, as you know knaves wooed Knaves will be knaves in every degree, I'll tell you by and by how this knave served me. I called for my pot as an honest woman shooed, And the knave drank it up, as you know knaves wooed, Knaves will be knaves, etc. I went into my bed as an honest woman shooed, And the knave crept into't, as you know knaves wooed, Knaves will be knaves, etc. I proved with child as an honest woman should, And the knave ran away, as you know knaves wooed, Knaves will be knaves in every degree, And thus have I told you how this knave served me. Song 250. Hung fear, and cast away care, The Par'sh is bound to find us, Thou, and I, And all must die, And leave this world behind us; The Bells shall ring, The Clerk shall sing, And the good old wife shall wind us, And john shall lay, Our bones in clay, Where the Devil ne'er shall find us. Song 251. NAy prithee don't fly me, But sit thee down by me, For I cannot endure The man that's demure, A pox on your Worships and Sirs: For your Congees and Trips, With your legs and your lips, Your Madams, and Lords, With such sinical words, The Compliment you bring, That doth spell nothing, You may keep for the Chains and the Furs; For at the beginning was neither Peasant nor Prince, And who the devil made the distinction since? Those Titles of Honours, Do remain in the Donors, And not in the thing, To which they do cling, If his soul be too narrow that wears them; No delight can I see, In the thing called Degree, Hone● Dick sounds as well, As a name with an L, That with Titles do swell, And hums like a Bell, To affright mortal ears that do hear 'em: He that wears a brave Soul, and dares honestly do, Is a Herald to himself, and a Godfather too. Why should we then dote on, One with a fools Coat on, Whose Coffers are crammed, Yet he will be damned ere he'll do a good act, or a wise one? What reason hath he, To be Ruler o'er me, Who is Lord o'er his Chest, But his head and his breast Are but empty and bare, And puffed up with air, And can neither assist, nor advise one: honour's but air, and proud flesh but dust is, 'Tis the Commons makes the Lords as the Clerk makes the justice.. But since it must be Of a different degree, 'Cause some do aspire To be greater and higher, Than the rest of their fellows and brothers; He that hath such a spirit, Let him gained by his merit, Spend his wit, wealth, and blood, For his Country's good, And make himself fit By his Valour and Wit, For things above the reach of all others: honour's a Prize, and who wins it may wear it, If not, 'tis a badge, and a burden to bear it. For my part let me, Be but quiet and free, I'll drink Sack and obey, Let the great ones sway, That spend their whole time in thinking, I'll not busy my pate. With the matters of State, The News-books I'll burn all, And with the Diurnal Light Tobacco, and admit, They are so far fit, To serve good Company, and Drinking; All the name I desire is an honest good fellow, For that man has no worth that won't sometimes be mellow. Song 252. WHy shouldst thou swear I am forsworn, Since thine I vowed to be? Lady, it is already morn, And 'twas last night I swore to thee, That fond impossibility. Have I not lov●d thee much and long, A tedious twelve hours' space? I must all other Beauties wrong, And rob thee of a new embrace, Should I still dote upon thy face; Not but all Joys in thy brown hair, By others may be found, But I must search the black, the fair, Like skilful Mineralists that sound, For treasure in a plough d-up ground. Then if when I have loved my round, Thou provest the pleasant she, With spoil of other beauties crowned, I loaden will return to thee, Even sated with variety. Song 253. THe May pole is up, Now give me the Cup, I le drink to the Garlands around it; But first unto those, Whose hands did compose, The glory of Flowers that crowned it; A health to my Girls, Whose husbands may Earls, Or Lords be, granting my wishes; And when they shall wed To the Bridal bed, Then multiply all like to fishes. Song 254. FArewel fond Love, under whose childish whip, I have served out a weary prenticeship; Thou that hast made me thy scorned property, To dote on those that love not, and to fly Love that wooed me: go bane of my content, ●nd practice on some other patient. Farewell fond hopes, that fanned my warm desire, Till it had raised a wild unruly fire, Which no sighs could, nor tears extinguish can, Although my ey●s out-flow the Ocean. Forth from my thoughts for ever, thing of air, Begun in error, finished in despair, Farewell false world, upon whose restless stage, 'Twixt love and hope, I have fooled out an age. Ere I will seek to thee for my redress, I le woo the wind, and court the wilderness, And bury●d from the days discovery, ●inde out some slow but certain way to die. My woeful Monument shall be my Cell. The murmurs of the purling Brooks my Knell, And for my Epitaph the Rocks shall groan Eternally, if any ask that stone What wretched thing doth in that compass lie? The hollow Echo shall reply, 'tis I, 'tis I. The hollow Echo shall reply, 'tis I. Song 255. GO with thy staff the Sea divide, And with thy whistle stop the tide. Catch the wild winds fast in thy fist, And let them blow but when thou list, Creep into Neptune's watery bed, And get a Sirens maidenhead, Then sore more high, and fetch me down Fair Ariadne's starry Crown, So that with it I may wear Some of Beronice's hair, Make Mars and Saturn's aspects mild, And get the Virgin Star with child, But if thou hast a daring soul, Go whip the Bear about the Pole, All this thou mayst long ere thou can A woman find, a woman find, that's true to man; For women's hearts take new desires Far sooner than the powder fires, Their flashes are more violent Than those flames, and sooner spent. Like Torrents women's loves rise high, Make a noise, decrease, and die. Then let no wise man think it strange That women are so apt to change. No creature underneath the sun, Bears such relation to the moon, He than that for their love is sick, Is worse than they, Is worse than they, he's lunatic. Song 256. A Bggar a Beggar, A Beggar I'll be, There's none leads a life more jocund than he, A beggar I was, And a beggar I am, A beggar I le be, from a beggar I came, If as it begins our trade do fall, We in the conclusion shall beggars be all. Tradesmen are unfortunate in their affairs, And few men are thriving, but Courtiers and Players; A Craver my Father, A Maunder my Mother, A Filer my Sister, a filcher my Brother, A Canter my Uncle, That cared not for Pelf, A Lifter my Aunt, and a beggar myself; In white wheaten straw when their belly's were full, Then I was begot between Tinker and Trull. And therefore a beggar a beggar I le be, For there's none leads a life more jocund than he. When boys do come to us, And that their intent is To follow our calling, we ne'er bind them Apprentice; Soon as they come too't, We teach them to do't. And give them a sta●f and a wallet to boot, We teach them their Lingua to Crave and to Cant, The Devil is in them if than they can want. And or he, or she, that beggars will be, Without Indentures they shall be made free. We beg for our bread, yet Sometimes it happens, We feast it with Pig, Pullet, Coney, and Capons, For Church's affairs, We are no men-slayers, We have no Religion, yet live by our prayers. But if when we beg, men will not draw their Purses, We charge and give fire, with a Volley of Curses. The Devil confound your good worship we cry, And such a bold bazen faced beggar am I. We do things in season, And have so much reason, We raise no rebellion, nor ne'er talk treason, We bill at our mates, At very low rates, Whilst some keep their Quarters as high as the gates, With Shinkin ap Morgan, with Blew-cap or Tege, We into no Covenant enter, nor League. And therefore a bonny bold beggar I le be, For none lives a life that's so jocund as he. For such petty pledges, As shirts from the hedges, We are not in fear to be drawn upon sledges, But sometimes the whip, Doth make us to skip, And then we from tithing, to tything do trip, For when in a poor bousing ken we do bib it, We stand more in dread of the Stocks than the Gibbet, And therefore a merry mad beggar I'll be, For when it is night in the barn tumbles he. We throw down no Altar, Nor ever do falter, So much as to change a Gold chain for a halter, Though some men do flout us, And others do doubt us, We commonly bear forty pieces about us, But many good fellows are fine and look fiercer, That owe for their clothes to their Tailor and Mercer, And if from the Stocks I can keep out my feet, I fear not the Compter, Kings-bench, nor the Fleet. Sometimes I do frame, Myself to be lame, And when a Coach comes I do hop to my game, We seldom miscarry, Or ever do marry By the Gowns, Common-Prayer, or Cloak Directory; But Simon and Susan like birds of a feather, They kiss, and they laugh, and so lie down together. Like Pigs in the Peas-straw entangled they lie, Till there they beget such a bold Regue as I. Song 257. I Dreamed we both were in a bed Of Roses, almost smothered; But than I heard thy sweet breath say, Faults done by night will blush by day, I kiss thee (panting and I call) The night to record, that was all; But ah! if empty dreams so please, Loye give me more such nights as these. Song 258. GO treacherous hopes, by whose uncertain fire I cherish my tyrannical desire; Love is a more uncertain guess than care, And my fate's such, That will cost as much, To love as to despair. 'Tis true our lives are but a long disease, Made up with real care, and seeming ease, Ye Gods that such uncertain favours give▪ Oh tell me why, It is so hard to die, And such a task to live, Song 259. WWhy should we boast of Arthur and his Knights, Knowing how many men have performed fights, Or why should we speak of Sir Lancelot du Lake, Or Sir Tristram du Leon, who fought for Lady's sake, Read old Stories, and there you shall see How St. George, St. George, he made the Dragon flee. St. George he was for England, St. Dennis was for France, Sing Hony soit qui mal y pense. To speak of the Monarches, it were too long to tell, And likewise of the Romans how far they ●id excel; Hannibal and Scipio they many a field did fight, Orlando Furioso he was a valiant Knight, Romulus and Rhemus were those that Rome did build, But St. George, St. George, the Dragon he hath killed. St. George, etc. jephtha and Gideon they led their men to fight, The Gibbonites and Ammonites, they put them all to slight, Herculeses valour was in the Vale of Basse, And Samson slew a thousand with the Jawbone of an Ass, And when that he was blind pulled the Temple to the ground, But St. George, St. George the Dragon did confound. St. George, etc. Valentine and Orson they came of Pepius blood, Alfrid and Aldricus they were brave Knights and good, The four sons of Ammon that fought with Charlemagne, Sir Hugh de Boudeaux and Godfrey de Bullaigne, These were all French Knights, the Pagans did convert, But St. George, St. George pulled out the Dragon's heart, St. George, etc. Henry the fi●th he conquered all France, He quartered their Armies, honour to advance, He razed their Walls, and pulled their Cities down, And he garnished his Land with a double triple Crown, He thumped the French, and after home he came, But St. George, St. George, he made the Dragon tame. St. George, etc. St. David you know loves Le●ks and toasted Cheese, And jasan was the man brought home the golden Fleece, And Patrick you know he was St. George's boy, S●ven years he kept his Horse, and then stole him away, For which knavish Act a slave he doth remain, But St. George, St. George, the Dragon he hath slain. St. George, etc. Tamburlaine the Emperor in Iron Cage did Crown, With his bloody slag displayed before the Town, Scanderbag magnanimous Mahomet's Bassa did dread, Whose victorious bones were worn when he was dead, His Beglerbegs, his corn-like-dregs 〈◊〉 astriot he was called, But St. George, St. George, the Dragon he hath mauled▪ St. George, etc. Ottoman the Tartar he came of Persia's Race, The great Mogul with his chest so full of Cloves and Mace, The Grecian youth Bucephalus he madly did bestride, But these with their Worthies Nine St. George did them deride, Gustavus Adolphus was Sweedlands warlike King, But St. George, St. George, pulled forth the Dragon's Sting. St. George, etc. Pendragon and Cadwallader of british blood 〈…〉 oast, Though john of Gaunt, his foes did daunt, St. George shall rule the roast, Agamemnon and Cleomedon, and Macedon did feats, But compared to our Champion, they are but merely cheats, Brave Malta Knights in Turkish fights their brandish Swords outdrew, But St. George, met the Dragon and ran him through and through. St. George, etc. Bidia the Amazon, Porteus overthrew, As fierce as any Vandal, Goth, Sarazen, or jew, The potent Holofernes as he lay on his bed, In came wise judith and subtly stole his head, Brave Cyclops stout with jove he fought, although he showered down thunder, But St. George killed the Dragon, and is not that a wonder? St. George, etc. Mark Anthony I'll warrant you, played feats with Egypt's Queen, Sr. Eglemore that valiant Knight, the like was never seen, Grim Gorgon's might, was known in fight, Old ●evis most men frighted, The Myrmidons and Prester john's, why were not these men Knighted? Brave Spinola took Bredah, Nassaw did it recover; But St. George met the Dragon and turned him o'er and over, St. George he was for England, St. Dennis was for France, Sing Honey ●eit qui mal y pense. Song 260. SWift as the feet of Leda, I Will to Olymphus flowered bosom sly, And there lie quaffing in mortality, Who tastes such sweets, those hearts can never die. The Cyprus Queen's not half so fair, Beauty herself can't with my Love compare, She doth impale all things the Gods count rare, Come vy with her what Sublunary dare? Her Neck's a tower of Snow, her head A Rosy Globe with curling Amber spread, Whose darts are able to amaze the dead, And make them leap from their cold shady Bed. When she first opes her cased Eyes, You'd swear two Suns at once broke through the skies, Or that they were bright Lamps of Paradise, The saucy Gazer on those splendour dies. Her Ivory Brows a Throne erect, To arbitrate betwixt each Lover's Sect, Her footstool with majestic Arch is decked, It frowns to death Loves wanton Heretic. Descending hence a little, grows A lovely Gnomon, rustic called the Nose, Each side two blushing Hemisphere's disclose, Where th' lily's youthful Bridal with the Ros●. Her lips like Gates of Rubies show, And opens where two Sets of Pearl doth grow, In Coral Sockets, bending like a Bow, Whose worth the Lapidaries do not know. Hence breaks a Voice such harmony, Is able to transform a Deity, And cause the dead to live, the living die, Orpheu● and Amphion at it mute doth lie, Have you not seen at Sacrifices How chaffed Incense with brewed Spikenard rises, In Clouds of Perfumes, or in flaming Spices, Just so her breath my senses each surprises. But on her Breast two Hills advance, Would cost a Pilgrim an eternal Trance, On this the Nymphs, on that the Grace's dance, Here Cupid lays his Bow, there Mars his Lance, Beneath this Vale's a Plain revealed, Eden itself no such delight doth yield, Where the bold Champion, though his back were steeled, Sounds a Retreat, but vanquished qui'ts the field. O stay Olympia, I have not done, These Plains I wander are Elysium, Oh let me herein blessed for ever room, Whilst in a babe we met, Olympia come. This is the Theatre of Love, In this sweet labyrinth let me endless rove, And like the Orb about thy Centre move, So I'll not change my Scene to be a Jove. Song 260. FEar not, my Genius, to unfold thy silent thoughts of these; Women are born to be controlled, receive them as you please: Their long-usurped Monarchy, Hath made me hate such tyranny. 2. Let them and their magnetic charms, as Harbingers before 'um. Possess themselves of Cupid's arms, as Baits for to adore 'em: I'll ne'er commit Idolatry, With Subjects born, as well as I. 3. Their Deity with them must fade●punc; this cannot be denied; Yet since the pretty things were made out of old Adam's side: We'll love them still, but know as thus, We do't because they're part of us, And let it then suffice the Elves, To say we love them as ourselves. FINIS. The Table of Letters contained in this Book. Page A Tender of service to the Kings most excellent Majesty▪ 25 A Tender of service to the Queens most excellent Majesty 26 Respects from an Honourable Lady to the Queen. ibid. A Person of Quality to a worthy Lady, the one a Protestant, the other a Roman Catholic. 27 One Lady to another with Compliments of extreme kindness. ibid. A Letter of kindness from one friend to another. 28 Another from friend to friend. ibid. A Lady to a Gentleman, concerning his sick Mistress. 29. The Gentleman's answer. ibid. The Lovers first address to his Lady. 30 The Lovers Complimental Letter to his Mistress. ibid. The Lady's return to her servants lines. 31 A Ladies forewarning her friend of another Lady's Society. ibid. One Lad●●● advi●● to another near Marriage. 32 A Lover to his false Misstriss, 33 A Letter on sending a Book. 34 A Lady to her discourteous Lover, 35 A Brother on occasion of his Brothers not writing. ibid. A Gentleman to a Lady on his friend's behalf. 36 Another to the same purpose. ibid. Compliments from one frieud to another. 37 An Answer to the former Letter. ibid. The Lover to his deliberating Mistress. 38 Civil Compliments from one friend to another. ibid. A Gentleman to his Lady, whom he fears would make a new choice. 39 A Rich old Gentleman to a fair young Virgin. 40 The Answer of a fair young Virgin, to a decrepit old Gentleman. 41 A Letter of Courtesy from friend to friend. 42 One Gentlewoman to another in behalf of a friend. ibid. The forsaken Maid to her treacherous friend. ibid. The Lady to her importunate Lover. ●● The Answer of a Lover to his threatening Lady. 44 A Letter of Enquiry from friend to friend. ibid. Comfortable advice to a friend, on the death of a Son or other near Relation, ibid. A Tender of service to a Mistress. 45 The Answer of a disdainful Lady to her servant. 46 A sick Lady to a Gentleman. The Answer of a Gentleman to a sick Lady. ibid. The Lover to his unbelieving Mistress. 48 The Answer of a Lady to her Lover. ibid. The Lover to his Mistress, having gained her affection. 49 A Gentleman to his Lady, on his taking a journey. 50 The Answer of a Lady to her Lover, upon his taking of a journey, ibid. A cracked Virgin to her deceitful friend, who hath forsaken her for the Love of a Strumpet. 51 The Lady to her slandered servant. 52 The Answer of the slandered Lover to his Lady. 53 The jealous Lover to his beloved. ibid. T●● Answer of a Lady to her jealous Lover. 54 Civilities from one Lady to another. 55 A Gentleman's request (for a sum of money) to his friend. 56 A Lady to a Gentleman on his recovery from sickness. 56 The Answer of the Recovered Gentleman. 57 The Lover to his Mistress, upon his fear of her entertaining a new servant. 58 A fair young Virgin, to an old Rich Miser, whom her Guardian had designed should wed her. 59 The ingratiating Gentleman to his angry Mistress. ibid. A Gentleman of good Birth, but small fortune, to a worthy Lady, after she had given a denial. 60 A Lover to his Mistress who had lately entertained another servant to her Bosom and her Bed. 61 The Answer of the Lady to her Lover in defence of her own Innocency. 62 A Lady to him whom she affects. 63 The Answer of a Lover to his Amorous Lady. ibid. The affected Lover to his Mistress. 64 The Answer of a Lady to her affected Lover. 65 A Lady to her despairing Lover, who had deserted his Suit at the first repulse. ibid. A Gentleman to a fair Lady, whom he accidentally discovered at a window. 66 A Sick Lady to her Lover, enjoining him to forbear his visits she being infected with some malignant distemper. 67 The fearful Lover to his supposed, unconstant Mistress. ibid. The answer of a Lady to her fearful Lover. 6● A wife to her extravagant Husband. 69 A Lover to his distempered Lady. 70 A Lady to her servant, that for some private reasons concealed his Birth and Fortunes. 71 The absent Lover, to his supposed unconstant Mistress. ibid. A Gentleman's advice to his Mistress how she should blind the eyes of her watchful friends. 72 A Gentleman to his new Mistress, upon his relinquishing an old one. 73 A Captious Lover to his Virtuous Lady. ibid. The Answer of a Virtuous Lady, to her Captious Lover. 74 A Lover in Commendation of his Mistress. 75 A Ladies thanks to a Gentleman for a civility lately received. ibid. A Gentleman to a sick Lady. 76 The Answer of a sick Lady to a Gentleman. 77 A Husband to his lascivious wife. ibid. A Gentleman to his friend, returning thanks for sending him a Book. 78 A Gentleman's request to his friend for a sum of Money. ibid. The Answer of a Gentleman to his friend, that sent to borrow Money. 79 A Lover to his Mistress. ibid. The Answer of a Lady to her Lover. 80 A Gentleman to his Rival. ibid. A Virgin to her Parents, that would have her matched to one whom she cannot love. 81 A Gentleman's first Address to his Mistress. ibid. Another to the same effect. 82 A Courteous Lass to her Paramour, who had gotten her with Child. ibid. A Gentleman to his (once scornful but) now affectionate Mistress. 83 A kind hearted Gentlewoman to her boasting favourite ibid. The Lover to his unconstant Mistress. 84 The Table of Songs contained in this Book. A Page AS in those Nations where they yet adore, 85 Amarillis told her Swain. 92 A woman's rule should be in such a fashion. 120 A pox on the Jailer and on his fat Jowls. ibid. Amintas he once went astray. 122 All in vain, turn again, why should I love her. 129 All the Materials are the same. 133 Among Rosebuds slept a Bee. 147 About the sweet bag of a Bee. ib. Alas poor Cupid, art thou blind? 148 A Tripe well broiled cannot be ill, 157 Arm, Arm, Arm, arm, the Scouts are all come in. 161 A curse upon thee for a slave. 162 A silly poor Shepherd was folding his Sheep. 174 After the pangs of a desperate lover. 178 A maid I dare not tell her name. 181 A young man lately in our town. 185 A King lives not a braver life. 295 A maiden fair I dare not wed, 196 Ah Chloris that I now could sit. 207 All Joy unto the happy pair. ib. A maiden of late, whose name was sweet Kate. 212 At dead low ebb of night, when none 217 A Beggar got a Bailiff, a Bailiff got a Yeoman. 233 Ah Celia leave that cruel art. 245 A Beggar, a Beggar, a Beggar I'll be. 263 B BReak, Break, distracted heart. 87 Beyond the malice of abusive fate. 89 Be thou that art, my better part. 96 Bess black as charcoal, was found in a dark hole. 103 Be gone, be gone thou perjured man. 107 Be not proud pretty one, for I must love thee. 145 Bring back my comforts and return. 149 Bright Aurelia I do owe. 152 Beauty and Love once fell at odds. 153 Brightest since your pitying eye 154 Bright Cynthia scorns, alone to wear horns, 214 By Heaven I'll tell her boldly that 'tis she. 236 Be not thou so foolish nice. 237 Bonny Kate, Kenny Kate, lay thy leg o'er me. 257 C CAll for the master, Oh, this is fine. 94 Courtiers, Courtiers, think it no scorn. 103 Chloris it is not in your power. 105 Celemana of my heart, none shall e'er bereave you. 106 Chloris farewel, I now must go 110 Commit thy Ship unto the wind 137 Cast your caps and care away 142 Cupids no God, a wanton child 146 Chloris, my Chloris, comes in yonder Bark 148 Chloris when e'er you do intend 151 Come fill with wine this lusty bowl 159 Come let us be friends, and most mendly agree 160 Calm was the Evening, and clear was the sky 179 Come hither sweet melancholy 193 Chloris forbear a while, do not o'rejoy me 204 Come away, bring on the bride 217 Charon, O Charon, thou wafter of the soul 221 Come jack le's drink a pot of Ale 238 Come Chloris high we to the bower 241 Cook Laurel would have the Devil his guest 246 D DEar give me a thousand kisses 109 Down in a Garden sat my dearest love 125 Drink to me boy, here's to thee boy 150 Disputes daily arise, and errors grow bolder 154 Dear love, let me this evening die 253 F FAirest Nymph, my delay shames me a lover 85 Fine young folly though you wear 96 Fair Phydelia tempt no more 123 Fly, Oh fly, sad sighs and bear 133 Fear not dear love, that I'll reveal 160 Fear not my Genius 270 Fond love what dost thou mean 171 Fain would I wake you sweet, but fear 172 From the fair Lavinian shore 177 Fear no more the heat o'th' Sun 185 Fair mistress I would gladly know 220 Farewell fond Love, under whose childish whip 291 G GOod Simon, how comes it your Nose looks sored 119 Good Susan, be as secret as you can ib. Give me more love, or more disdain 163 Good people give ear, whilst a story I tell 190 Go happy heart, for thou shalt lie 206 Gaze not on thy beauty's pride 232 Go with thy staff, the Sea divide 262 Go treacherous hopes, by whose uncertain fire 265 H HElp, Help, Oh Help, divinity of love 114 Hang sorrow, cast away care 117 Have you any work for a Tinker ib. Have you observed the wench in the street 118 How merrily looks the man that hath Gold 119 He that will win a widow's heart 121 How happy and free is the plunder 130 He that marries a merry Lass 136 He deserved much better than so 147 He that will look for a swallows nest 155 How long shall I pine for love 158 How happy art thou and I 165 He that a Tinker, a Tinker will be 174 Help love or else I sink, for know 116 Have you any work for a Sowgelder Ho 197 Haste sluggish morn, why dost thou stay 202 Hold, Hold, thy Nose to the pot, Tom, Tom. 223 Hang fear, and cast away care 258 I I Dote, I dote, but am a sot to show it 98 If any so wise is, that Sack he despises 118 If she be not kind as fair 121 In the merry month of May 125 I'm sick of love, Oh let me lie 131 I feed a flame within which so torments me 132 I keep my Horse, I keep my Whore 1●5 I won not go to't, I must not go to't ib. I loved a lass, a fair one 143 I love thee for thy sickleness 149 I am the Evening dark as night 150 Jo Hymen, Jo Hymen, Jo Hymen 162 In faith 'tis true, I am in love 169 I happy saw, and faithful loved ib. I can love for an hour when I'm at leisure 182 I courted a lass, my folly 190 In love away, thou do me wrong 166 I am a Rogue, and a stout one 198 If she be fair I fear the rest 231 I le sing you a sonnet that ne'er was in print 234 I marvel Dick that having been 239 I went to the Alehouse as an honest woman shooed 257 I dreamed we both were in a bed 264 L LEt Votaries rearing up Altar and Shrine 88 Look, see how unregarded now 108 Little love serves my turn, 'tis so enflaming 109 Ladies though to your conquering eyes 121 Love is a sour delight, a sugared grief 127 Last night I dreamt of my Love 131 Like to the falling of a Star 137 Like a ring without a finger ib. Love and Wenches are toys 154 Loves empire, as the world, is wide 166 Let the Bells ring, and the boys sing 173 Lawn as white as driven Snow 184 Let's have a dance upon the heath 201 Look out bright eyes, and bless the Air 222 Love, I must tell thee, I'll no longer be 251 Love is a Bauble, no man is able 252 M MMy Lodging it is on the cold ground 146 Make ready fair Lady to night 187 May I find a woman fair 189 My Muse denies to Apollogize 201 N NEver more will I protest 102 Now fie on foolish Love, it not besits ib. No more, no more, I must giive o'er 109 Now, Now, Lucatia, now make haste 115 No, No, thou all of red and white 167 Now that the Spring hath filled our veins 175 Now by my love, the greatest oath that is 127 No man loves fiery passion can approve 213 Now I confess I am in love 224 Nay prithee don't fly me, but sit thee down by me 258 O ON yonder hill a Beacon stands 90 Oh Chloris 'twas unkindly done 113 Oh how I hate thee now, and myself too 116 Oh Chloris, would the Gods allow 166 Our ruler hath got the Vertigo of State 170 Oh Cupid turn away thy Bow 172 Once was I sad, till I grew to be mad 187 Oh love whose power and might 229 Oh the little house that lies under the Hill 249 On a Hill there grows a flower Oh Anis quoth he, well Thomas quoth she 256 P PHillis though your powerful charms 122 Peace and silence be the guide 162 Poor Artaxander long hath wooed 171 Pish modest sipper, to't again 175 Phillis on the new made Hay 237 Poor jenny and I, we toiled 244 Phillis I pray, why did you say 241 Pompey was a mad man, a mad man 256 S SWeetest Bud of Beauty, may 93 Sweet jane, sweet jane, I love thee wondrous well 104 Strait my green gown into breeches I'll make 108 Shall I wasting in despair 111 See, see, Chloris my Chloris comes 148 Silly heart forbear, those are murdering ey●s 171 Sigh no more Ladies, sigh no more 180 Stay, shut the gate, another's quart 1●8 Strephon, what envious cloud hath made 103 Sure 'twas a dream, how long fond man 222 Since life but short, and time amain 250 Swift as the feet of Leda, I 268 T TEll me gentle Strephon, why 91 'Tis not i'th' power of all thy scorn 93 The thirsty earth drinks up the rain 95 To friend and to foe, to all that I know 96 Turn Amarillis to thy swain 102 Take a pound of butter made in May 103 The glories of our birth and State 103 Twelve sorts of meats my wife provides 107 To little or no purpose, I've spent many days 111 The wise men were but seven 100LS The morning doth waste, to the meadows let's haste 125 The pot, and the pipe, the cup, and the can 127 Then our music is in prime ib. There was three cooks of Colebrook 131 'Tis true fair Celia that by thee I live 134 The parched earth drinks the rain 136 The wit hath long beholden been 140 The silver swan who living had no note 146 Thy love is chaste, they tell thee so 15● This is not the Elysian grove 151 The master, the swabber, the boatswain and I 152 Tell me, where is fancy bred 156 Take her and hug her, then turn her, and tug her 158 'Tis late, and cold, stir up the fire 160 Tell me prithee faithless swain 163 Tell me no more you love, in vain 164 Thou deity, swift winged love 172 The Spaniard loves his ancient steps 176 Take, oh take, those lips away 180 Tom, and Will, were shepherds swains 183 'Tis a merry life we live 186 The Beard thick, or thin, 218 The hunt is up, the hunt is up 229 There's none but the glad man 232 'Twas then we had a thriving Trade 240 Though I am young and cannot tell 242 Thirsis, I wish, as well as you 249 The Springs coming on, and our spirits begin 251 The Maypole is up, now give me the cup 261 V VIctorious beauty, though your eyes 105 Under the green-wood Tree 156 Upon the Change where Merchants meet 242 W WElcome blessed hand, whose white outvies 87 When Phillis watched her harmless Sheep 89 When cold winters withered brow 90 When Celadon gave up his heart 93 Why should we not laugh and be jolly 100 Wh●n as Leander young, was drowned 115 When wives do hate the husband's friends 120 Were Celia but as chaste, as fair 124 Why should I not dally, my dear 128 Where the Bee sucks, there suck I 154 Who is Silvia, what is she 155 What shall he have that killed the Deer? 157 Wedding is great juno's Crown ib. Why should only man be tied 165 Wake all ye dead, what Ho, what Ho 168 When Daisies pied, and Violets blew 178 When Icicles hang by the wall 180 When Orpheus sweetly did complain 204 When Celia I intent to flatter you 211 What creatur●s on earth, can boast freer mirth 213 When I see the young men play 214 With an old motley coat, and a malmsy Nose 224 With an old song made by an old ancient pate 225 With a new Beard, but lately trimmed 228 When I drain my goblets deep 137 Why should you swear, I am forsworn 260 Why should we boast of Arthur and his Knights 265 Y YOur merry Poets old boys, of Aganippe's well 95 Yonder he goes, takes corns from your Toes 116 You spotted Snakes with double tongue 155 You that choose not by the view 156 You say you love me, nay you swear it too 205 Ye Fiends and Furies come along 206 Your Letter I received 231 Yes I could love, if I could find 245 You Maidens, and Wives, and young Widows rejoice 255 Books Printed for Samuel Speed Bookseller, between the Two Temple Gates in Fleetstreet. PHaramond, the famed Romance, written by the Author of those other two Eminent Volumes, Cassandra and Cleopatra, in Folio. Palmerin of England, in three Parts, in Quarto. The destruction of Troy, in three Parts, in quarro. Quintus Curti●s his life of Alexander the Great in English, in quarto. Montelion Knight of the Oracle, in quarto. Primaleon of Greece, in quarto. The Jewel-House of Art and Nature by Sir Hugh Plate, in quarto. The Woman's Lawyer by Sir john Dodridge, in quarto. Divine Law; or the Patron's Purchaser, by Alexander Huck-ston, in quarto. The complete Parson, by Sir john Dodridge, in quarto. Star-Chamber Cases, in quarto. Actions of the Case for Deeds, by William Sheppard Esq in Folio. The life of Henry the Great in English, written by the Bishop of Rhodez, in Octavo. The Villian: a Tragedy, by Tho. Porter Esq in quarto. Observations of the Statesmen and Favourites of England, since the Reformation, their Rise, and Growths, Prudence, and Policies, Miscarriages, and Falls, during the Reigns of K. Henry the Eight, K. Edward the Sixth, Qu. Mary. Qu. Elizabeth. K. james, and K. Charles the first. By David Lloyd. A.M. in Octavo The Precedency of Kings, by james Howel Esq in Folio. The Description of Tangier, with an account of the life of Gayland the Usurper of the Kingdom of Fez. in quarto. The Golden Coast, or a Description of Guinney, in quarto. An Abridgement, of the Reports of Sir George Crook, three Volumes, in Octavo. An Abrigements of the Reports of Sir Frances More' in Octavo. The Complete Lawyer, by William Noy of Lincoln's Inn, in Octavo. The Tenant's Law, a Treatise of great use for Tenants and Farmers of all kinds, and all other persons whatsoever. Wherein the several Natures, Differences, and Kinds of Tenors, and Tenants are discussed, and several Cases in the Law touching Leases, Rents, Distresses, Replevins, and other Accidents between Landlord and Tenant, and Tenant and Tenant between themselves, and others, especially such who have suffered by the late conflagration in the City of London; with Rules for Determination of Differences, without troubling the most Honourable Court of Judicature by R. T. Gent: in Twelves. Memoires of the Lives, Actions, Sufferings, and Deaths of those Noble, Reverend, and Excellent Personages that suffered by Death, Sequestration, Decimation, or otherwise, for the Protestant Religion, and the great principle thereof, Allegiance to their Sovereign, in our late intestine Wars; by David Lloyd A. M, in Folio. Arithmetical Recreations by W. Leybourn, in Twelve The Reports of Sir Henry Hobert, in Folio. The Complete Coppy-Holder by the Lord Cook, in quarto. Machiavels Discourses, and Prince, in Twelves. The Roman History of Lucius Flerus, in Octavo. The City and Country Purchaser, and Builder, with Directions for Purchasing, Building, and improving of Lands, and Houses, in any part of England, by Stephen Primate Gent. in Octavo. A brief Chronicle of the late intestine War, in the three Kingdoms of England, Scotland, and Ireland. From the years of our Lord 163●. to the year 1663. by james H●ath Gent. now reprinting, in Folio. The new Academy of Compliments erected for Ladies and Gentlemen, containing Variety of Compliments and Letters fitted to the occasions of all persons of both Sexes, with an exact Collection of the Newest and Choicest Songs Alamode, both Amorous and Jovial, in Twelves. Systema Agricultura: Being the whole Mystery of Husbandry, made known by I. W. Gent. in Folio. FINIS.