PHILOMYTHIE or PHILOMYTHOLOGIE wherein Outlandish Birds, Beasts, and Fishes, are taught to speak true English plainly.  
By Tho: Scot Gent.  Philomithus est aliquo modo philosophus: fabula enim ex miris constituitur. 
The second edition much enlarged.  
LONDON for Francis Constable at the white Lion in Paul's church: yard. 1622  
TORTI TOTO MUNDO   

A PRAEMONITION TO THE INTELLIGENT READER.  
Lest he finding his affection or opinion crossed in the praise or dispraise of some particular, should thereby be drawn to read or reject the rest with Prejudice.  

WHO safely in the stream would swim,  
Must free from weeds keep every limb;  
Lest sl●●e unto himself he grow,  
And vulgar humour draws him low;  
Or v●n●ring in the deeps (too weak),  
Opinions windy bladder break.  
" We ought both in ourselves and friends,  
" To hate all acts with doubtful ends;  
" And love even in our foes the good  
" Which may be severed from their blood.  
And if the times misled us so,  
To soothe those sins we would not do;  
At least (like freemen) let us think  
What's good and bad, although we wink.  
To this free nature if you find  
These busy papers much inclined;  
Yet pardon them, and judge aright,  
A free man (not a slave) did write.  
Read for your pleasure, close the Book,  
On th' innocent out side all may look.  
Th' intelligent within may prie:  
But bar th' Intelligencers eye.  THOMAS SCOT.   

SARCASMOS MUNDO: OR, The Frontispiece explained.  

HOw apt is Man to err? Antiquity  
Thinks it sees right, and yet sees all awry.  
Our sight is impotent, the help we have  
By 
a Ar●s are Nature's sp●ctacles to be● imperfection● If ●hey be n● whole and 〈◊〉 for the part● that useth them, th●● rather ●ure than inlight● induement.  Artful sp●ctacles, doth much deprave  
The truth of objects; And tradition saith  
Books use to ly●, And 
b The Romi● Catholics oppose the written word wit traditions, 〈◊〉 unwritte●● vanities, as the falsely ca●● them.  Books deny her faith.  
Eclipses of the Sunn● were wonders thought, 
Thales.   
Till sage Milesi●● the cause out-sought.  
And man had not the wit to make a doubt  
Of half the world, till fortune found it out. 
Columbus.   
But what this Age hath s●ene, makes that sleme truth 
Democr. Alex. Ma●.   
The laughing wiseman wrote, which made the youth  
Shed tears to read it; that more worlds remain  
Still undiscovered then are yet made plain.  
De●pe diving Paracel●us finds the ground  
With minerals and metals to abound;  
More proper for our humours then the weed●s●  
Herbs, plants, & flowers, which spring from weaker seeds●  
This earth we live on and do steadfast call,  
Copernicus proves gid●y-brainde, and all  
Those other bodies whose swift motions we  
So wonder at, he settled finds to be.  
Till sanctified 
c The f ●e● o● the e●uits.  Ignatius and his brood  
Found out the lawful way of shedding blood,  
And proved it plainly that a subject might  
Murder ●is Prince we fond used t'indite  
Such persons of high treason: Now before them  
We kneel, we pray, we worship and adore them.  

●e mireris ●bsecro, s●ationes de ●s ●●fe●re ●on po●i●a: saris ●ctu● pu●re debes, i non mi●us proba●les quam ●u●uis ali●s, ●ationes ●ttuler●m. ●e●uum●●st memi●s●e & m●●ui disierā, & vos qu● udicabitis ●omines ●ste: ut s●●●●babilia 〈◊〉 ●●hil 〈◊〉 req●●●tis. ●la●● in ●imaeo.  For with their merits now w'ar● mor● acquainted  
And know for zealous Pa●riot● they are sainted.  
His power that doth it, till of lat● we doubted  
But now who qu●stions it to death are flouted.  
Th●n l●t what I propound no wonder sleme,  
Though doting age new truths do disesteem,  
For time may mak● it plain, and reason too  
May bear it out, though sure with much ado.  
Causes for●g●●●ff●cts by course of kind,  
Yet first th' ●ff●ct and then the cause we find.  
And so much I do here, propound the thing,  
But stronger reason aftertimes may bring.  
Attend my Doctrine then. I say this Earth  
On which we tread, from whence we take our birth,  
Is not, as some have thought proportioned round,  
And Globe-li●e with s●ch zon●s, and girdles bound,  
As Poets or (more liars) Travellers s●y,  
But shaped awry, and looks another way.  
It is a monstrous Creature like a M●n,  
Thrust altogether on a heap, we can  
Distinguish no part, goggle eyes, wide mouth,  
Ears that reach both the poles from north to south,  
Crump-shouldr●d, breast, & back, & thighs together,  
The legs and feet all one, if it hath ●ither.  
In brief it is the greatest Master D●uill  
Thro●ne down from heaven, in whose womb● every evil  
Is radically fixed, and from thence springs  
Infusing native evil, in all such things  
As it doth bre●d and nourish. The place of H●ll  
Is in his womb, there lesser devils dwell.  
And when he stirs a limb, or breaketh wind,  
We call't an earthquake, and the danger find.  
Kings, Emperors, and mighty m●n that tread  
In ●ighest state, are l●ce upon his head.  
The Pope and all his train are skipping pleas  
That know no bounds, but leap lands-law and seize  
The r●st are nits or body-lyc●, that crawl  
Out of his sweat, s●ch vermin are we all.  
From heaven this monster fell, and now doth lie  
Bruzde with the fall, past all recovery.  
Neither alive, nor dead, nor whole, nor sound,  
Sinking, and swimming, in a sea profound  
Of sinn●, and punishment, of pain, and terror,  
Of learned ignorance, and knowing error.  
No wonder then, that we who liu● and dye  
On cursed earth, do all things thus awry,  
Being monstrous in our manner's, and our minds,  
And mixing in the lustful change of kinds.  
That we are full of passions, doubts, and fears,  
And daily f●ll together by the ears.  
No wonder that the Clergy would be Kings,  
King's Churchmen; Lords and Ladies equal things;  
So like in painting, spotting, starching, all,  
That Lady's Lo●ds, and Lords we Madams call.  
For even as Hares change shape and sex, some s●y  
Once ●uery year; these whores do eu●ry day,  
So that Hirquittall and his wife were waken  
By Succubus and Incubus, mistaken.  
No wonder that Divines the Parasites play  
In jest and earnest; Actors every way.  
No wonder that some the●ues do Lawyers prove,  
Since all these evils by course of nature move,  
So f●rre; that it is questioned 'mongst the wise  
Which now is virtue, and which now is vice.   

Two Croo●backs (not the third Dick Gloster, height,  
We will have none of him, for he would fight)  
Debate this question, each assumes his part.  
Aesop for virtue stands, and all his art,  
Is to instruct the world to leave the sin,  
And folly, which it lies encompassed in;  
Weeps to behold it circled so with vices,  
Whose serpentine and poisoned sting, entices  
To f●ding pleasure, and to deadly pain,  
By use soon caught, but hardly left against.  
He wries his neck at earth; but 'tis to see  
How out of order every part will be.  
He wills each R●●der if my tales be dark,  
To judge the best, the moral still to mark.  
And w●ere they find a doubtful meaning, there  
To hold an eu●n course, and with compass● steer.  
But where strict rigour might enforce a doubt,  
T●incline to ●auour, and to help me out.  
On th' other side doth learned ●ort●s stand  
Concomitant, and bears the world in hand  
That Aesop and some Stigmatics beside,  
(In shape and wit) did call well-favoured Pride  
A vice, because themselves were so deformed,  
At every pleasure they with malice stormed;  
But wiser much, he doth with better face,  
With equal wit, worth, knowledge (but less grace)  
Confront such fond assertions, looks awry  
On all the world of virtue, gives the lie  
To judgement, and with crooked mind and back  
(T●●●sites-like) vnloades this learned pack.   

He teacheth first that Aesop was a slave,  
" But Man's free borne, and freedom ought to have,  
" To work h●s own good pleasure, fair content;  
" Who lives not thus, hath his whole life misspent.  
This rule he follows, and lays violent hands  
On all; that his pride, lust, and will, with-stands.  
Calls his affection reason; his desire  
And appetite, sets all his world on fire.  
His child, his wife, his neighbour, or his friend,  
Is for his pleasure loved; without that end  
No King, no great Lord, can forget so soon,  
And slight d●sert; as he hath often done.  
Bastards are true legitimates, he ●aith:  
And enemies than friend's, have far more faith.  
His neighbours are most strangers, and before  
A modest wife, he likes a shameless whore.  
For many whores (he ●aith) he often kept  
Without disturbance; but one night, having slept  
In twenty years with his true wife, th' assault  
Of many Summoners did correct the fault.   

What we term cowardice, he doth valour call,  
And in that valour he exceedeth all.  
An oyster-wife once beat him; bravely he  
Bore all her blows, but wanted heart to ●lec.  
He will on Sundays with an Abbot dine,  
On Fridays, with a brother Libertine.  
And every day drink health's up to the eye:  
He treads not right unless he treads awry.  
The Maa of sin himself, is not more free  
In doing all forbidden sins than he.  
For what he spea●es or te●cheth, writes or reads,  
Only speaks pleasure, and to pleasure leads.  
Had 
d ●he ●ault Seneca ● Sir ●●as ●erbury.  Ner●'● froward Tutor too precise)  
Been like our Philo●●rch●●, pleasure wise,  
And pliant to all humours but the good,  
He had with ●ur●●ts dyd'e, not lac●e of blood●  
Learned A●●tine he reads, and can expound  
His modest pictures with a touch profound.  
That part is his of ●uery tongue, and ar●e,  
Which stricter Ia●●●● tremble at, and start  
To hear● recited. This, this man is h●e  
Who on the forefront you with Ae●ope see.  
Ae●op● that loo●es awry on all m●ns vice;  
But this on virtue casteth scornful eyes.  
Ae●ope m●kes birds, beasts, fishes, sp●ake and live  
As if their lives should M●n example give  
To practice virtue. This (with apt behests)  
Doth teach all men how to become li●e beasts.  
And 〈◊〉 whose life these creatures m●st resemble  
Comesn●●rest tru●●, and s● doth lea●● di●●emble●  
Th●t Nature is the best g●ide, if w● pl●●se  
To follow her, than we must ●ollow 〈◊〉  
For these observe her rules, and are not spoiled  
By art, nor have their able organ● foiled  
With abstinence and lac●e of use, but still  
Directed are by appetite and will.  

e Look on 〈◊〉 front.  In Kings he would no other virtue see  
Then what in Lions, and in Eagles b●e:  
To pray on all, to make their will a law,  
To tyrannize, to rule by force and awe,  
To fear no higher powers, to do no good,  
But live to gl●t themselves with guiltless blood.  
Courtiers he would h●ue fashioned like to apes,  
So fond their gestures, so deformed their shapes:  
So full of idle imitation found,  
That scorn in them, our stages might confound.  
That they should starch & paint white, red, blue, yellow  
And then all black, that other fools might follow.  
Divines of Owls he would have learn to shriek,  
As if they hated all the world did like;  
But having got a tree and Iuy bush,  
He then would have them mute, and dumb, and hush,  
To serve all purposes, to hate the light,  
And prove right Blackbirds, children of the night.  
Men that want wit, yet have great place in State,  
He woul● have like to Parrots, learn to prate  
Of others, till with Almonds they w●re fed.  
The rest like Foxes he would still have bred  
Clos●, crafty, indirect, to get by stealth  
The goods both of the Church and Commonwealth.  
All subjects and inferiors he would have  
Themselves like G●●●e, and Asses to behave.  
Rich men and ●●●rers to swallow all  
Directed by the Dolphin, and the Wh●le.  

f Many of his sch●ll●r have learned this le●●on.  All m●n like Dogs to flatter, and to bite,  
And misinterpret what we speak or write.  
He wills all those that on my payers look,  
To make each line a libel in my book:  
To poison with their eyes what●'ere they see,  
And make themselves sport, and make work for me.  
Not to believe the moral, but to seek  
Another meaning whatsoever they like,  
And call it mine; and swear I meant the same,  
Although I would not persons plainly name.  
And then he wils them laugh to seek the jest.  
" Another's mischief, makes a merry feast.   

This Doctor is our Ages guide and Tutor,  
The world his School, the flesh his coadjutor.  
No wonder then if we live all awry,  
When on our Master we cast steady eye.  
For 
g Regu ad ex●mplum. etc.  ● Alex●nder● neck can teach us this,  
" The School and Court by greatness fashioned is.  
Thus our great Master's crookedness is spied  
In us his followers, who no good parts hide  
That he hath learned us, but proclaim aloud  
The cause which makes our virtuous Tutor proud.  
If any seek his name, and list to come  
To school, inquire for M●rus & Antrum.    

A SUPPLY OF THE description of 
* Quasi d●rsus pandus.  monsieur PANDORSUS WALDOLYNNATUS, that merry American Philosopher, or the Wiseman of the New World; being Antipode to Aesop, placed with him as parallel in the front. Done according to the simple truth of his own naked delivery.  
And dedicated to THOMAS THURSBY Esquire, no less fit to be public, then desirous of retirement and privacy.  
YOU shun all office, though your state and wit  
With long experience makes you truly fit;  
Wherefore Pandorsus wils me prick you here  
Sheriff in my book, who might be in the Shear.  

AS the East and West are opposite, so stand  
These Wisemen in the front on either hand.  
Aesop well known an Eastern witty thing:  
But our Pandorsus Western fame I sing;  
Whose picture in the Front, whose marks before,  
Behind, within, without, I late did score;  
Yet lest that picture, nor these marks, should make  
His worth enough apparent, briefly take  
His life anatomiz'de, but chiefly where  
It may our sucklings with example rer●.  
The lines are drawn even by his own true light,  
From partial flattery free, and envious spite.   

Within that Stir where Hinds with dumplings fed,  
Beget best Lawyers, was Pandors●s bread:  
But for his Parents' were of better rank,  
And in a Coast Town● dwelled, they Claret drank,  
And wrie-mouthed Pl●i●● br●ts butts● and 〈◊〉 did eat,  
And crooked Crabs with such prodigious mea●e.  
Thus for a wonder they prepared in feeding:  
And such he proved, who from that root● had breeding.  
Though no P●n lora yet P●ndorsus he,  
For vice as famous, as for virtue she.  
Each God gave her a grace, and g●ue so much  
As more than Momus thought there was no such.  
But what to her they gave, from him they took,  
And now in vain for grace in earth we look.  
Look for effects according to the cause:  
" Our children's faults a●e moulded in our maws.  
T●is salt-water-daintie diet f●d  
The parts concupiscible, and there bred  
An itching humour, whence extracted was  
This quint essence of contraries, this mass  
Of Nature's shreds and parcels, who partakes  
A part of all, which imperfection makes.  
A Foxes brain●s, knowing m●ch wrong, no right;  
Gote-bearded, sweete-faced, like a Catamite;  
Toung'de Lawyerlike, all term without vacation;  
A Baboon●s loins, desiring occupation;  
Crumpe-cammell-shouldered, necked as strait as ●ynx,  
One eye like to a Molls, t'other like Lynx;  
A Lion's stomach; not to fight but feed;  
A Hare in heart, and yet a Snail in speed.  
This is the man whom we Pandorsus call.  
Whose arms or Rebus thus we blazons shall.   

Upon a stately wall Saint George doth ride  
(Wanting a horse) in pomp and armed pride;  
Beneath there is a Den, in that the Dragon.  
This tells his name, whose worthy parts we brag on.  
It is his own device, let all men know:  
So is the rest which we in order show.   

His Mother's Husband (who reputed was  
His Father) being rich and well to pass,  
A wealthy Merchant and an Alderman,  
On foreign shores did travel now and than:  
The whilst a Gallant Soldier, new come forth  
From war b●got this man of much worth.  
This gallant Soldier, then from ●Belgia brought  
A wondrous Mandrake (with much peril bought)  
Sprung (though some thin●e it fabulous) from seed  
The gallows drop (for so this root doth breed,)  
Which whilst his mother did in pleasure eye,  
Our Mo●nsurs shape, she did conceive thereby.  
Much like that Mandrake, written, turning round,  
As from the gallows he had dropped to ground.  
And l●t no doubtful Reader much admire,  
A Myrmidon should be Pandorsus Sire,  
For as there's none with us get braver men  
Than Lawyers, or the tender Citizen,  
So none more cowards g●t, than those which are  
Our bravest Spirits, most renowned in war.  
The cause I know not, or I list not tell,  
But so it often falls, and here so fell.  
None bolder than Pandorsus Sire, than he  
None fearfuller; and yet he needs would be  
A Soldier, where the Muster-book he filled,  
But fought with none, nor ne'er saw any killed.  
Artemon was more hardy though afraid  
Of his own shadow. Wagers have been laid,  
That let an enemy fart, he would outrun  
An Irishman, for fear 't'had been a gun.  
Where learned Spencer maketh harna'st Fear  
Afraid the clashing of his arms to hear,  
That apprehension he from hence did gain,  
Our Monsieur did, what Spencer did but fain.   

But stay, I have forgot to let you know  
His education, and to show you how  
(Being nuzzled up in Letters) he in sport  
His time wore out at School and Inns of Court,  
Yet so as once a Gipsy, who did look  
Upon his Palm, said he, should live by's book;  
Which fortune some conceive hath doubtful scope,  
As if his book should save him from the rope:  
But since he proves, it meant another thing,  
That teaching Tongues, he should live like a King;  
And so he now doth, living as he lust,  
And by his own will measuring what is just.  
For being set to School when he was young,  
He of all knowledge learned both tail and tongue.  
Th' Italian, Latin, Spanish and the French,  
He grew as cunning in, as at a Wench.  
A Dictionary of all words of Art,  
And Lullie's old-ends, he hath got by heart.  
Th' apparel of all knowledge he doth wear,  
And 'bout him Bias-like) his wealth doth bear.  
And now (grown ripe) he doth religion choose  
That's most in fashion, as our great ones use:  
But otherwise for truth he'll never burn,  
Th' advantage of his wry-necke helps him turn:  
He knows the way, and wills the world ne'er doubt,  
That coming raw in, he'll go roasted out.   

In youth he took to Wife a lovely Dame,  
Not height the chaste Penelope by name;  
But worthy such an attribute, for she  
Her wand'ring loose Ulysses did not see  
In twenty years, and yet 'tis thought her bed  
She kept unstained, and un-ad-horned his head.  
But what a blessing was, he thought a curse,  
His wife had better been, had she been worse,  
Her goodness made him hate her; she had died  
But that a dozen must be killed beside.  
He knew not then (as I have heard him say)  
Th' Italian trick, but the plain English way,  
Of simple Country poisoning, now he knows  
To do 't by inches; Court perfection grows.  
Lopus and Squire, are not so skilled as he,  
And scarce Rome's Conclave in that mystery.  
He can a Nullity work, divorce the life  
'twixt soul and body, sooner than some wife.  
And if his rick be known, men ne'er will seek  
A doubtful way by law, but do the like.   

His wife thus scaped a scouring, so did he,  
When being merry once in company  
And passing Smithfield (then unpaved) too late  
With rich Canary having lined his pate,  
The owle-eyde Sharkers spied him, how he felt  
To find a post; his meaning soon they smelled:  
And then the sturdiest knave, with sodained rush,  
Our wavering Monsieur on his knees did push,  
The whilst another kindly to him spoke;  
Helped him out of the dirt, and changed his cloak.  
This cloak he wore next day, and passing by  
A Broker's shop, the apprentice loud 'gan cry  
Sirs stop the thief, the cloak this fellow wears  
Is mine: with that they swarmed about his ears,  
Conveyed him to a justice, where one swore  
He had been branded stagmaticke before.  
Another said, he was the man that hung  
Three days beyond Seas, as the ballad sang;  
The cause why he his neck awry, did hold,  
Was for he hanged long, and was ta'en down cold  
But to the justice being throughly known,  
For carrying letters where't must not be shown,  
And for his skill, each modern language speaking,  
And wondrous Art, to silence doors from squeaking,  
With loss of his good cloak, he slipped the hook,  
And thus he once was saved by his book.   

Thus far I stretch my lines, thus far he lives,  
And more I'll write, when he direction gives.  
But if I die, these lines shall be the glass  
His worth to show, and how I thankful was.    

To the overwise, over-wilfull, overcurious, or over-captious Readers.  

I fain would tell some Tales, but I'd be loath,  
To have men be so wise to think them troth.  
This is● wondrous witty age that sees  
Beyond the truth of things, forty degrees,  
Each Riddle now hath Poison in't; each Rhyme  
On the blank Almanak points at guilty time.  
Aesop must make no Lions roar, nor Eagles  
Shriek loud, nor wolves r●●in, nor swift Beagles  
Yelp with their slavering lips after the Fox,  
Nor must he meddle with the Ass, or Ox,  
For fear some querke ●e found, to prove he men●  
Under those shapes, a private spleen to vent  
Against wise vigilant Statists, who like janus,  
Look both ways squint, and both ways guard and sa●e v●.  
Or that he closely would great Lawyers yerk,  
Who build their nests, with ruins of the kirk:  
Or that he touched some Churchman, who to rise  
One Steeples height, would tell Canonical lies.  
The Ghost of Virgil's Gnat would no● sting so●  
That great men durst not in the City go  
For fear of petty-Chapmen, with a Sergeant,  
And a sly Yeoman, noted in the Margeant.  
If Spencer now were living, to report  
His Mother Hubberts tale, there would be sport:  
To see him in a blanket tossed, and mounted  
Up to the stars, and yet no star accounted.  
I dare not for my l●se in all my tale,  
Use any English Bird, Beast, worm, or Snail,  
Or fish that in the narrow Seas do travel,  
(Although each Pirate dares) le●t some should cavil,  
And find it did belong in times of yore  
To some blue sleeve, (but shall do so no more)  
Or that the Maker of new blood, the Marrold,  
(Cleped in our w●lch-Scotch and English Harrold)  
Had (too too cheap) for five pounds it entailed  
On some bold Britain, and by warrant nailed,  
To him and to his house, and double voucher,  
Fine and recovery; and then who dare touch her?  
Not I, I love my ease too well, my money,  
My eared, my liberty; he longs for honey,  
That mo●gst the angry Wh●spes thrusts his boed fingers,  
And from their nests in Summer, hunts those stingers.  
My valour is less hardy, my desire  
Less hot I'll bl●sse and blow, not kiss the fire.  
Therefore avaunt all catholic Locusts, ●●me  
Into my tale nothing one this side Rome,  
Nor in Virginia, though't be ours by lot,  
And yet perhaps it may, perchaun●'t may not.  
I would not● if it lay in me to choose,  
Meddle with any thing we Christians use:  
But would all dealing with our own eschew,  
If other world, and elements I knew.  
But since that Nature doth some gifts disperse  
Alike to all within the Universe;  
And in a cicular globe, tie those to these;  
Mixed us ●n common with th' Antipodes:  
I ca●not choose but do as nature doth,  
Mix many names and things well known to both.  
Thus if by chance I use Bird, Fish, or beast,  
Which is no dainty at a Mayor's feast:  
But oft familiar food for every Swain,  
That in our Country, Coast, and Wood remain.  
Yet still concei●● (I pray) those names I take  
Not properly, but for your ignorance sake.  
Or if they proper be, of all one kind,  
Yet difference in their place of birth we find.  
And in the●● natures. For though man be man,  
Yet sure an Indian is no English man,  
And so an Indian Ass, or ` Daw, or Trout,  
Though we have such, are none of ours no doubt:  
But would we wonder here, and purses pick●,  
Since none but travellers ●uer s●y the like.  
Excuse me then though with such names you meete●  
They are not those that travel in our street,  
But foreigners to us and to our Nation,  
Except by trade, commerce, or transplantation  
Made our acquaintance. Hence thou subtle spies  
Stretch out my tails to justify your lies.  
If aught beside the moral you in●ent,  
Call it your owne● By me'twas never ment.  
My tale shall sort all Atheists well, and be  
Of their religion, heathenish and free.  
It shall make lust a Gospel and a Law,  
(Not for the truth) but to keep fools in awe,  
That when our Gospel or else Law doth thware  
O ur wills, we then may neither reck a f—.  
Come Ibis, Led the way; eat one snake more  
And by my fury; usher on before    

1. IBIS.  
DEDICATED To the religious KNIGHT Sr EDMUND MONDEFORD, and his Lady a true lover of LEARNING.  

in. lib. 8. ●spae ●iunt corporibus ●uorum ortuorum: ●es ranarum iortuarum: ●nae ver● & ●gues ex● utrefactioe aquae. comment. 〈◊〉 lib● 1● Arist M●aphy. bis ●erpentibus ●st inimica ●ostro enim, ●os percuti● nterficit & levorat. Arist.  KNowledge and Grace, are antidotes to you,  
Who killing Serpents, do not Serpents grow.  

EGYPT oppressed with Serpents, either growing  
F●om slimy NILUS fruitful overflowing,  
Or from the envious banks of Tiber sent  
To tell what farther harm the Romans meant:  
Or by the foggy Southern winds brought o'er  
From sandy Lybia to this fertile shore:  
Made ●bis Keeper of their lives and states,  
Who like a watchful Porter, kept the gates  
Where this infected Crew did use to enter:  
And (as they came in poisoned troops) did venture  
Maugre their sting, and teeth, and venom too,  
To swallow th' envious Asps with small ado.  
So long shefed, that Egypt now seemed free,  
And scarce a Serpent in the land could see.  
" But ouer●f●eding hurts● as some men say,  
" ●hough food be good than surf●t soon we may  
" B● poyson●d bits. And Ibis found it true. 
Diode Sicul● lib● 3.   
So that her glutted gorge sh●e's forced to spew;  
The noisome stink wher● of infected more  
Than by these Serpents had been stung before,  
And Ibis' self (corrupted with the food)  
Grew Serpentine, and did more harm then good,  
She ke●ps no ●ntrance now, but lets them pass,  
And of their faction, and their treason, was  
A cunning aider, and a close contriver;  
Al-gate She se●m'd a diligent, faithful, diver  
Into their darker holes to search them out:  
But truth it was to put them out of doubt,  
That She their friend, they need not fear a foe,  
But might at pleasure through the kingdom go,  
Whilst all neglected their increase, supposing,  
Ibis their trusty warden, had been closing  
The lands strong Ports, with skill to keep thesein,  
And others out, till all had eaten been.  
But she had other aims, and under hand,  
Placed Cockatrice's all about the land:  
And such as these (who kin to serpents were)  
Did she make Captains, and to place prefer 
Plin. lib. cap● 22. Cacoble alias. Ca● cotheph●   
Of chief command in war: with hope to bring,  
The Basilisk to be th' Egyptian king;  
The Basilisk that at the head of Nile,  
With deadly poison doth the spring defile.  
Thus Ibis failed them, and betrayed their trust,  
And now or die themselves, or kill they must.  
And scarc● was't in their choice. Such quick increase  
" Hath bad things more than good, in time of peace.  
Yet the Egyptians from securer sleep,  
Of foolish pity, and remissness deep,  
Or fond credulity, and easy faith,  
At last awaked, whats'ever Ibis saith,  
Suspects of ●r●ud, of double-meaning, doubt,  
And with quirk search do find the treason out.  
Whic● Ibis●eeing ●eeing to be past prevention,  
Past skill ●o cloak and coner with invention:  
With ●alice, envy, fear, and horror swelling,  
And other poison in her bosom dwelling,  
She burst asunder, and pre●eut● the pain  
Her cri●e de●er●'d, but not the shame and stain:  
That the Egyptians left for a●ter tim●s,  
To read and wonder at in these few rhymes.  
" Whom nature made good, custom made unjust;  
We trusted Ibis, but she failed our trust.  
Let Reason rule, and Reason thus exhorts,  
●Make not your will wardon of your Cinque Ports.   

Epimythium.  

ut. in vit● ex● mag.  PLutarch in the life of Alexander the Great, writes of a Woman brought to a Serpentine and poisonous nature, by feeding ordinarily on Serpents. This hath so●e resemblance with this tale, whose Moral is● that man should carefully, guard himself from others, and from himself: From others, because though we come near sin, with a purpose to punish it; yet being full of contagion, the effect is hazardous: much more when we converse with it daily; as they witness, who keeping company with profane, dissolute, and blasphemous persons, do often come out such themselves, seldom otherwise. Beware therefore of evil company, and evil custom. 
Psal. 1  To walk in the counseil of the wicked, leads you to stand in the way of sinners, and causeth you to sit in the seat of scorners. To converse with Heretics under whatsoever pretence is dangerous. Thus therefore guard yourself from outward invasion, from others; but keep one eye to look inward. The worst company is at home, within a man's self. His senses stirred up to pleasure, are so many Serpents in his bosom, seeking his destruction: neither will they easily be charmed. The sting of sin is sweet, but deadly Set your unsanctified appetite and will to govern these, and you are undone. The flesh will let in the world and the devil, in stead of God and Heaven. But let your sanctified Reason be your governor, and you are safe at home and abroad. Mortify therefore 
p Colo c● 3. v.  your members which are on the earth; fornication, uncleanness, the inordinate affection, evil concupiscence, and covetousness, which is Idolatry, etc. The place of greatest danger where your foe may land and enter, is the Cinque-ports, the five senses: watch therefore over these, and over our affections, and you are safe.    

2. Venaticum Iter.  
Dedicated To the example of Temperance, Sr HENRY BEDINGFEILD Knight, and to his LADY the example of Love..  
You hunting love, your fields are spread with sheep,  
Look that your hounds, your folds from foxes keep.  
Foxes and Wolves in sheepskins range about:  
Within opinions; Parasites without.  

TH' Egyptian Shepherd armed at all assays  
With Dogs and Sheephookes, sat upon the Lays,  
At pleasure piping many a learned sonnet  
Of fixed stars, and each course keeping planet:  
Of thunder, lightning, meteors, and the c●use  
Of changing kingdoms, and translating law●s:  
Why pestilence did rage, why good men di●,  
Why Nilu● overflows the banks so high,  
Why kill frosts, and such abundant snow,  
That ruin falling, ●uine as they thaw:  
Why th' earth should barren be, and famine breed  
In the fat soil●, though ●owne with better seed.  
Why water, air, the earth, and cheerful fire  
Should (being made for man) 'gainst man conspire,  
And of themselves (by nature never bidden,)  
Bring forth such cross effects, unheard and hidden,  
To plague poor man, and living him t'intombe  
In his one ruins, ere the day of doom.  
The cause of this, they wisely found to be  
Man's open sins, and close Hypocrisy.  
And of this Theme discoursing too and fro,  
Proving it was, wishing it were not so.  
The King came by, and with him many Nobles,  
Whose pestered train the sheep and shephead troubles.  
Poor Country, thou findest this in corn and cattle,  
When most remote from Court, thou most dost battle   

The King a hunting rides; the shepherd's dogs  
Would needs a hunting too, and onward iogs  
These jolly Curs: the Shepherds whoop amain,  
Hollow and whistle too, but all in vain.  
The Huntsmen rate, and like to mad men ride;  
The Curs suppose they cheer them when they chide:  
So on they go, and do as others do,  
Throw up their curled tails, spend their weasands too,  
And when thy cannot top the rest, run after  
●o ●ong, till anger now is turned to laughter;  
And now the King delights the Curs to hear.  
For they are ever busy in his ear;  
And coming home to trencher-food they fall,  
●rouing good bloodhounds some, good harriers all.  
●hey can draw dryfoot to the harmless game,  
Whilst Wolves and Foxes pass their noses tame.  
●hus fed by fat sweet bones, they all prove gluttons,  
●nd where they wont to guard, now kill our muttons,  
They learned have Court lore, and nothing fails;  
Can fawn and flatter, nimbly wag their tails;  
And snarl, and bite, and beat ●he better hound  
Out of the Court, who their false hunting found.  
And now the time draws on, the King again  
Rides out to hunt, and with him all his train.  
These dogs are fore-most, and pursue the chase  
With eager stomaches and with equal pace.  
But being trencher-fed, the weather ho●,  
Themselves unbreathed, to hunting used not,  
They soon are shaken off, and waxing slack  
Become the lag and hindmost of the pack;  
And strait lose ●ight, sent, hearing of the rest.  
So then to Nilus-ward they hold it best  
To turn their course, with the cool waves to slack  
The heat they got, for double diligence ●ake.   

The roughest, rudest, cursedest Cur of all,  
Which want upon the gentlest Dogs to fall,  
(And neither being Hound nor Mastiff bred,  

Lyci●ca.  But of a mongrill kind, by she-wolves fed,  
Did silence such as spent their sweeter voice  
In turnefull tones, which Hunters ears rejoice,  
Whilst he nor at the fold would watch in dark,  
Nor bite the Wolf, nor with his harsh voice bark,  
Nor here amongst the Hounds once open wide  
His monstrous chaps, except, to bite, or chide,  
Or ravine and devour the daintiest meat  
Which the industrious, not the slug should eat:  
And in despite of whips, though crouch and cry,  
Would never mend, nor better grow thereby)  
Led on the way, for he would still be fi●st,  
His impudence was such, and such his thirst.  
●or would he suffer avy their to drink  
●ill he had done. Ambition's eye doth think  
To swallow all, and all too little to,  
For him that least deserves, and least can do.  
●ut see a just reward, whilst thus he lies  
●ending his pleasure, from the waves doth rise  
〈◊〉 cruel subtle Crocodile, who snatcheth  
●t him with her sharp sangs, quickly catcheth  
●he lazy Cur; which struggles, cries, and str●ues.  
●ut all too late. Th' amphibious monster diues  
●nder the waves; the Dog r●sists in vain,  
●eath swallows him, the rest run home amain;  
●ome to the Sheepfolds, and attend the trade  
●hey were by Art trained to, by Nature made.  
●nd fearing now the like, forewarned by this,  
●hen hot and dry they waxe● their custom is,  
●t banks of Nile ne'er to rest and stay, 
A●lianus I. ●. Praet●rc●rrunt autem ripam, & suffurantes bibunt, quant●● est capere: iterum aeque iterum.   
●ut here and there to lap, and so away;  
●est otherwise some Crocodile being hid,  
●hould serve their sloth, like as the other did.   

Epimythium.  

This tale doth teach, each man himself t'apply  
To his Vocation; not to look awry  
At Honours, Riches, Pleasures, which are baits  
The devil lays in our way, and in them waits  
To swallow us, whilst eagerly we seek  
To swallow and engross what●'ere we like:  
Without respect what's honest●iust, and fit,  
●o we by any means can compass it.  
Each hath his element, his toil, and sport.  
The clown the country, and the King his Court.  
The Nobles in the Council or the field,  
The Sea, and Burse, doth like to Merchants yield.  
Each tradesman in his shop, housewives at home●  
" They range too far, that o'er the threshold room.  
Lawyers upon the bench, Divines within  
their studies, schools or pulpits; else they sinne●  
Who takes the plough in hand, must never s●acke,  
" Nor look about, for then ●e looketh back,  
Who takes the Crown and Sceptre, still must thin●  
" When others sound sleep, he must but wink,  
Who goes to war, or counsel must advise  
" The shame or honour on the Noblest lies.  
Who guides the Helm must still his compass mind,  
" And cheer his mates, and sail with eu●ry wind.  
Who by Mechanic Arts doth hope to thrive,  
" Must be a Bee, and make his shop his Hive.  
Who sits to judge, the Person must neglect,  
" Not look asquint, but to the truth direct.  
Who will Episcopize, must watch, fast, pray,  
" And see to work, not oversee to play.  
They have a double charge, to rule, and teach,  
" Whilst they neglect to preach, neglect they preach●  
Each must his Diocese tend; or if at Court,  
What others dare not he must still report.  
Yet nought but truth, ●or all truths but the good:  

Ps●l. 106. 13.  (So Mos●s in the gap of vengeance stood)  
What others dare not whisper he must sing,  
And like a golden trumpet ●ouze the King,  
With wise alarms from securer sleep,  
Wherein frail flattering flesh doth greatness keeps  
●or greatness, both in state, wit, strength, and all  
●hat we call great one earth, is apt to fall●  
with greatest danger, greatest violence,  
●nlesse upheld by greatest diligence.  
●nd he is only worthy to be great,  
who with a virtuous freedom holds the seat  
Of Moses, and inclines to neither hand,  
But both upright only for truth doth stand,  
●uch tend their flocks; whilst they attend the Court,  
Their pastime'tis to moderate each sport.  
They season all raw humours. Seldom glance  
On honours or on pleasures, but by chance:  
And then to recreate their spirits they do it,  
Taking a snatch, and fall the harder to it.     

GRYPS.  
DEDICATED To the Courtly and accomplished Knight, Sr. HENRY RICH, and his most equal Lady.  
ALL Men seek greatness: goodness is the way.  
he's oft less King that rules, then doth obey.  
Add● to Gods work your own, his image then  
Shall be repaired, for that's the crown of Men.  


Gripe animal pennatum & quadrupes. Hae belluae di●untur ess● in Scythian & cum Arimaspis qui unicum haben● oculum, auri causa quod custodiunt● assiduè bellu● g●rere. Plin. lib● 10.  THe Griffon (well allied, and great in power)  
Made challenge to be general Emperor  
Of beasts, and birds; whose title to decide,  
A general Council was proclaimed wide  
Through all the world, and every bird and beast  
Together met, the greatest, and the least.  
Mongst these some crawling serpents, some with feet,  
And some with wings did at this Council meet,  
And claimed the place of beasts, and did allege  
Full many ancient laws of privilege  
●or their high honour; b●t the chief was this; 
Gen. 3 1. Serpens enim erat as●utus, astu●●or quavis bestia agri.   
●hey proved themselves beasts, out of Genesis.  
●ut when that Law was read, and it was found,  
●heir treason brought a curse upon the ground;  
●hat ever since their poison did annoy  
●oth birds an●●●●sts, and oft did both destroy;  
Cloaking their ●●aud, guilding their villainy  
With ancient universall-unity;  
Betraying truth with dark ambiguous lies,  
And cozening man of blessed Paradise:  
Adulterating, purging of the sense  
Of holy Writ, under a good pretence:  
They had by general voice, strict banishment  
from coming near this Court of Parliament.  
And now the rest proceed; but by the way  
Arose another cause of some delay,  
Coming to choose a Speaker, bold jack daw 
Goodmatters may be propounded with an ill mind.   
Would interpose his skill, and vouch a Law,  
(The law of Parasites) that each one might  
Speak what him list, 'gainst reason or 'gainst right.  
And that no Speaker needed, aught to be,  
Where such a mixture was; for if quoth he,  
We choose a bird, the beasts will all dissent;  
If they a beast, we shall be discontent.  
This speech, though true in pa●t, did all offend,  
B●cause they saw his busy tongue did bend  
To cross all business, and his wit de●ise  
To change the firmest knots to nullities.  
So they agreed together in this sort,  
To cut his nimble tongue a little short,  
For sa●cie tattling, where he should not teach●  
And being silent where he ought to preach.  
But he aveides his sentence with a quirk,  
Pleading of old he longed to the Kirke,  
Though seldom he came there; and each one took  
Him for no Clerk, until he claimed his book  
Then they perceived his skill; and soon discerned  
How he to flatter and backbite was learned;  
Could mount a steeples top and with the wind  
Turn like a weathercock his ready mind,  
Serving the time. Therefore they onward pass  
To choose a Speaker; some would have the Ass,  
Because he could diminish nought nor add,  
But truth deliver, were it good or bad:  
Yet most misliked that choice, and those pronounce  
The Parrot fit, and some the nimble Ounce;  
Some the sweet Nightingale, and some the Dog,  
And some the Fox, the Baboon, some the Hog;  
Some Robin redbreast, or the speckled Thrush,  
Some Chantecleere, and some the Woodcock flush.  
Some chose the Ape, and some mislike his voice,  
So sundry factions rise from his herded choice.  
At last the Elephant persuades with all,  
To take an equal course, and Man to call  
As Speaker, judge, and Umpire in this thing,  
Being by nature the world's general King,  
And the most fit t'appoint and to depute  
His own Imperial bird beast substitute.  
To this they all consent, and to this end  
In humble wise to Man this Message send,  
That he their Patron, Governor and Lord,  
Would deign this mighty difference to accord  
With reason and authority. His consent  
Is soon obtained: now 'gins the Parliament.   

In which the Griffon thus begins his plea.  
Grand Emperor, of Air, Earth, and Sea;  
I challenge by prerogative, and birth,  
To be your Vicar general on the Earth,  
O'er birds and beasts: The beasts I ought command, 
Gryps quadru Gryps ter vol● recitate Deut. 1●   
Because upon four feet like them I stand.  
The birds I ought to rule, cause I can fly  
With these my wings like them, and soar as high.  
I do surpass the beasts in having wings,  
The birds in legs, in tail, and other things:  
My force doth match the Lions, and my heart  
The Eagle, or excels them in each part.  
Your doom I therefore claim, that I may be  
Placed equal to my worth in sovereignty:  
And next yourself the Emperor be of Earth,  
According to the privilege of my birth.  
Then spoke the Elephant, and said, that he  
Ought over beasts the only Lord to be.  
His strength was great, and more than others far, 
Elephas animal quod ma nitudine inter om nia anim lia quadr● pedia excellit: I●. tellectu & memoria multum vigens. Plin. Solit. Regulus, or, Reg●liolu●   
His honours purchased more in manly war:  
His learning more, the letter's understanding,  
And aptly doing all, wise Man commanding.  
'Gainst him up rose the Sire of Banks his horse,  
And challenged him to try, wit, worth, and force.  
This grew to heat, but then the mighty Rucke  
Soon parts the fray, each did from other pluck;  
Desires she might be heard, her challenge was  
To rule all birds, since she all ●●rds did pass.  
The Wren strait hoped about, and said, his ●ame  
Did show from what a royal stock he came.  
And every bird and beast, the great and small,  
Had his ambitious aim to govern all●  
Which having made, in silence all sat down  
Being over-awed with man's Imperial frown.  
Each feared, each hoped, until at length the Man  
Rose up, and to determine thus began.  
I was your Master made, you made for me,  
And whatsoever in the Globe there be  
Hid or revealed, 'tis mine. And I alone  
Sole Emperouram, under that only One.  
Nor doubt you this; the question now in hand  
Is for the under-king-ship of my land;  
For 'tis not fit that I should troubled be  
With every toy, when subjects disagree:  
But that my Precedent should still be nigh,  
Your doubts and iarrest ' appease and rectify.  
It only rests to show what parts are fit  
For government. That's courage, strength and wit,  
Mercy and justice, and the guard to those,  
Awe to command, dexterity to dispose.  
If any part of these be separate,  
The rule is most imperfect, and the State  
Falls to contempt; the laws are trodden down,  
The Sceptre broken, and despi●'d the Crown.  
This shows how many her● have vainly sought  
For one good part, the wreath that many aught.  
That nor the Ruck, the Elephant nor Ho●se,  
Are fit to govern for their matchless force;  
Nor for their wit alone; for then the Ox  
Might make his claim too, and subtle Fox:  
Much less the silly Wren for honoured house,  
Nor the catt-fearing, Elephant-frighting Mouse.  
For these would breed contempt, and Athens Owl  
Might challenge so night-rule of every Fowl.  
Nor is it meet this Griffon should obtain  
What by pretence of right he seeks to gain.  
Because his title halts on either side,  
Except in halves, himself he will divide. 
Gryphs Capite●● alis Aqu similis● 〈◊〉 quo cor● re simile Leoni. Isid. l. 1ST   
He is no beast: his talents, wings, and head  
Conclude against his challenge in my stead.  
Nor yet a bird: his body, legs, and tail  
With evidence his garments all do quail.  
But if where proof lies hid, we may proceed  
By probabilities; from spurious ●eede  
He took his being, and would neither love,  
Being like to neither, but a Tyrant prove.  
And where he boasts his wondrous strength and heart,  
It's false he doth pretend, because that part  
Which shows him Lion-like in shape, hide, hair,  
Doth of the kingly-Lyon stand in fear.  
And that birds part which he from th' Eagle took,  
On the sky-towring Eagle dares not look.  
The Lion therefore I ordain and make  
The King of beasts; his awful voice shall shake 
Aquil● mas●   
The proudest spirit. And the Eagle shall  
Be King of Birds, and overlook them all.  
This sentence past, the Parliament arose,  
And with these rules of truth the Sessions close.   

Epimythium.  

Who seeks two swords to sway, hath right to none● 
Vnum opus optim● fi● ab vno● Arist. l. 2. Politic.   
Who seeks two offices, is not fit for one:  
Who seeks two callings, takes too much in hand:  
Who hath two faiths, doth true to neither stand.  
One sword, one office●calling, and one faith,  
Is fit for one Man; so this story saith.   

Who seeks two swords to sway, hath right to none.  
The Pope challengeth not only Peter's keys and Paul's sword, but hath found two swords in Peter's hand, with which he (like another Alexander) cuts asunder the knots he cannot undo. The band of marriage betwixt man and woman: The hand of loyal obedience betwixt subjects and Sovereigns; The band of conscience betwixt God and man; he cuts asunder by dispensing with marriages, allegiance, and others, etc. By his behaviour therefore in these things, it may be judged whether he be fit to have many swords that cannot use one well. Edged tools are not to be put into the hands of drunkards: He is scarce sober that makes all other drunk with the c●p of his abominations.   

Who seeks two offices, is not fit for one.  
To the late Queen of famous memory, a Courtier who had great place about her Majesty, made suit for an office belonging to the Law. Sh●e told him he was unfit for the place. He confessed as much, but promised to find out a sufficient Deputy. Do (saith she) and then I may bestow it upon one of my Ladies, for they by deputation may execute the office of Chancellor, chief justice, and others, as well as you. This answered him, and I would it could answer all others: that ●it men might be placed in every office, and none how great soever suffered to keep two. They should take offices for the Commonwealth's benefit; but they take them like Farms for to enrich themselves. This discourageth all professions, both in the Church and Commonwealth: one place is fit for one man.   

Who seeks two Callings, takes too much in hand.  
The Church hath some of these, who are better Physicians, Lawyers, Merchants, or Handicraftsmen, than Divines. The Commonwealth hath many of these, some who receive tithes, buy and sell Church-livings, retain Deanryes', and Prebenda●ies. and are well seen in all occupations, but in that which they were bound to profess. To be a Merchant, a Maultster, a Brewer, a Grazier, a Sheepe-master, a Farmemonger, an Usurer, a Devil and all, is ordinari● in e●ery Country, and he is thought no good husband that is not all or the most of these.   

Who hath two faiths, doth true to neither stand.  
Our miraculous example in these our days, hath demonstrated this beyond denial, which but lately though we knew, yet we durst not v●ter for fear of censure. With what Tyranny doth vice guard itself from knowledge? How rankly doth that Fame stink now, against which but lately we durst not stop our noses? This is a maxim grounded from this example. No honour, preferment, or respect can assure our ●aith, if the band of faith, religion, be not entire with us.     

4. SPHINX, HYENA.  
DEDICATED To the wise and valiant Soldier, Sr. JOHN POOLY Knight, and to his good Lady.  
YOu loved my Brother, he is gone, I stay,  
T' acknowledge first a debt, and then to pay:  
Love looks upon the will, which easily can  
Prove there's no bankrupt but the thankless Man.  


ena cru●is es● be●similis ●o, etc. ●cuit do●g per no●m & hu●nà prout ●est ●ingi●●em Isid. ●icuiusque ●men ●n●●it, quem ●ca●●●o●laceret. ●d:  HY●n● was a subtle beast and bloody;  
To ruin man was his whole trade and study.  
He scorned the sheep, the shepherd was his prey,  
His nightly plots got, what he missed by day.  
The shepherds of Arcadia, beguiled  
By his feigned voice, were murdered oft and spoiled.  
For in the night he want like some good friend,  
To call them out, and then a pieces rend.  
One only wiser shepherd thought it best  
Hire Sphinx to watch his house whilst he did rest:  
Whose subtlety foresaw, and still prevented,  
What else his Master had too late repent.  
For when the false Hyena went about  
Calling for help, to train● the Shepherd out,  
Feigning distress as if he rob were,  
Or missed his way (a weary traveller);  
Sphinx soon perceived his counterfeit complaining,  
And laughed outright to hear his crafty feigning;  
But would not let the credulous shepherd go,  
(Whose tender heart pitied his mortal foe)  
Till day appeared, and that the Sun shone bright.   

Together with the Sphinx full many a night,  
An Indian Ass and Musk. cat, safely slept,  
Whilst Sphinx the shepherd's house & household kept.  
Nor did they always sleep but often heard  
What at the first to think upon they feared;  
But custom at the length bere●t all awe,  
And they afraid were when they nothing saw.  
So envy wrought, and Ignorance, and Pride,  
That they the wiser Sphinx dare now deride.  
And moved the Shepherd, to prevent the charge  
Of keeping more, to let the Sphinx at large.  
Persuading there was no such cause of dread,  
But they might well supply the Sphinx his stead:  
Who feigned those fears, and did imagine treason,  
To win th' opinion of much wit and reason.  
The Shepherd fond credits this; and strait  
Le's lose the Sphinx, and these in order wait.  
The Indian Ass● he trusted being plain,  
Supposing he would nei●herlye, nor fain.  
And the Musk-cat, was pleasant to the smell,  
And very watchful; needs must these do well.  
The night is come, the Shepherd sound sleeps  
As he had wont, no scar his conscience keeps.  
These two stand Sentinel, and now ere long,  
Comes the Hyena, and with smoothing tongue  
Saith; Is your Master waking, gentle swains?  
If not, a●ere him, tell him all the Plains  
Are up in arms against our common foe,  
The false Hyena that beguiled us so.  
He cannot scape their hands, for they have found  
The Cave he keeps in, closely under ground.  
Bid him awake and rise and come away,  
For all the Shepherds for his coming stay.  
This tale believed, the Ass and Musk-cat hie,  
To make their Master to make haste to dye.  
He r●seth rashly, opes the door, goes out,  
And is devoured ere he can look about.  
Nor can the watchmen scape, but both are slain:  
Though one be sweet, the other true and plain.   

Epimythium.  

" Not simple truth alone can make us fit,  
" To bear great place in State without great wit.  
" For when the Serpent comes to circumvent us,  
" We must be Serpents too, or else repent us.     

HIPPOPOTAMUS.  
DEDICATED To the magnificent KNIGHT Sr. HUGH SMITH, and his worthy LADY.  
YOur Auon's quiet, no such Monsters feed  
'Bout sandy Severne, as in Nilus breed:  
●t Nilus-like your bounty o●erflowes,  
●●ence good report, and ●ame, and honour grows. 
Hippopotamus in Nilo editur, Crocodilo inimicus. Pli. lib. 8. c. 25. Crocodile animal quadrupes in terra & in aquis valens.   

THe Sea-horse, and the famous Crocodile,  
Both challenged to be Kings of fruitful Nile;  
●nd sundry fields they fought, where many died  
●f either ●action, still the cause untried.  
●et often had they single, hand to hand,  
●ncountred in the flood, and on the land:  
●nd parted still with equal harm away,  
●or both the blows bore thence, but not the day;  
Yet each invincible himself did call,  
And so they were, but to themselves, to all.  
But when they coped, success did thus conclude;  
Courage remained, strength only was subdued.  
And so for want of strength they often sundered,  
Though at their wondrous strength all other wondered  
Thus o●t they met, and o●t assayed in vain,  
Who should th' Imperial crown of Nilus' gain:  
Till both grew weary of these wars at length,  
And 'gan lay by the use of arms and strength.  
And truce proclaimed a while on either part,  
A feigned truce, no friendship from the heart.  
For underhand by stratagems, and friends,  
And secret plots, each sought their several ends.  
But much more noble was the Crocodile,  
And wiser much, though not so full of guile  
As Hippopotamus, so th' other hight,  
Who cared not what he did, or wrong or right,  
By falsehood, bribes, or treason; so he could,  

Seruo enim non ●as est ve●um dicere, quod Hero suerit incommodum Enti● Chameleo● mutat s●●m ●olorem infl●tus A●ist, Hist. Animals lib. 11. cap. 11.  The foulest fact, to his advantage mould,  
And thus he called Chameleon on a day,  
With Polypus, and unto them 'gan say:  
You two my bosome-fri●nds, my Minions are,  
My privy Counsellors in peace and war.  
And I have found you pliant to my will,  
Faithful to me, but false to others still.  
And now I crave, your utmost Art and reason,  
In conquering of the Crocodile by treason;  
Which thus I purpose: Both of you are made,  
By nature apt to colour and to shade,  
With fit resemblance all the objects nigh,  
On which you shall reflect a steady eye,  
●ou can seem otherwise, than what you be,  
●nd cover hate with close hypocrisy,  
●ou can take any shape, any disguise,  
●nd soon beguile the most inquisitive eyes;  
●eare any Livery, all companies fit,  
●nd to each humour change your ready wit.  
●his you have done before, and oft made plain  
weighty intelligence, and can so again.  
●ut each his proper element retaining,  
chameleon in the air, and earth remaining,  
●ou Polypus at sea. To sea then hie,  
●nd with rich promises Torpedo buy  
●o our close service: he in Counsel is  
●o our great ●oe, a greater friend of his.  
about wealth is our best friend, and that corrupts  
●The purest mind, and friendship interrupts.  
●ith gifts and promises pervert him so,  
●hat he may call us friend, count him a foe:  
●ill him he would, when fitting time doth come,  
●ith his slow touch, secure, bewitch, benumb,  
●ur adversary, and his sense astonish,  
●hat it may seem a crime him to admonish  
●f our apparent practices preparing,  
whilst he attends his sports, no danger fearing.  
●hen to the Water-rat Ichneumon go●,  
●nd you to Cuschill●● and will them too, 
Phi●● lib. 8, cap● 26●   
●hen next they pick his teeth, and scratch his head,  
For they are near him still at every stead,  
●nd highly favoured, (chiefly Cuschi●●us),  
●hough both in fee and pension be with vs),  
●hat they would join their wits and force together  
●o murder him; and for reward come hither.  
So when your plots he closely thus conveyed,  
And all your trains and tew in order laid,  
Then mix yourselves in either element  
With the profuse, the needy, discontent,  
The desperate, the bloody, and the bold,  
Whom nought but fear do from rebellion hold;  
Of such you shall find many in this State.  
For he's remiss, and doth all business hate,  
Whereby he gets contempt, and opens wide  
A ready way of entrance unespide  
To our high aims. Full many you shall find  
Of our close faction, fitting to our mind.  
Those that are such encourage, others frame,  
A●d what you will speak largely in our name;  
Promise, and swear, and lie, to make things fit,  
That our designs may prosper by our wit.  
●way, and for the rest leave that to m●.   

The spies instructed thus fit agents be,  
And post with speed, and with a speed too good  
Dispatch all Scenes fit for the Act of blood.  
And now the wise, learned, valiant Crocodile,  
A hunting hies unto the bank●s of Nile:  
Where having sported long, and fully fed,  
The slow Torpedo strokes him on the head,  
Whispers within his ear, and charms him so  
That in the Sunshine he to rest must go.  
But as he goes drowsy and reeling thus,  
Meets him the Indian Rat, and Cu●chillus,  
And lowting low with music him presents,  
And antique she●es, and mas●ing merriments;  
Striving to hide their treason with such Art,  
That their true care almost betrayed their heart,  
●his wise Alcedo (one that many a dish  
●ad for his King prepared, of daintiest fish),  
●id soon suspect, and with shrill voice 'gan cry,  
●ir King beware, for enemies are nigh;  
beware of him that's busy with your ear,  
●nd tells you lies, that truth you may not hear:  
beware of him that's scratching of your head, 
Regnum potius ab assentatoribus quam ab hostibus euertitur●F. Patr. Seu. Comm de Inst. Prince lib. 5.   
beware of him that's making of your bed.  
beware of ●im that doth extol you so,  
●nd like a God adores you as you go:  
beware of him that doth so humbly fall  
On his false ●nee; good King beware of all.  
With that the Crocodile 'gan look about,  
Being half asleep, from a sweet dream waked ou●,  
●nd would have heard more, but the charmers kept  
The bird away by force; and so he slept.  
●e slept, and Cuschillus did sing the while,  
And picked his ●eeth, and used many a wile  
To open his over-chap (for only he  
●oth move his over-chap, the neither we): 
Solus inter animali● superiorem maudibulā movet Crocodile. Isid.   
At last he tickled him, and forced him so  
●o yawn and gape: then Cuschillus doth go  
●nto his belly, and the Indian Rat  
●eapes quickly after; where they first search what  
●lose counsels, secret purposes did fill  
His darker bosom, were they good or ill.  
But were they good or ill, it matters not,  
For they pursue and prosecute their plot:  
They gi'en to gnaw his bowels, and to rake  
●is entrailes with their nails; which pain doth wake  
●im from his latest sleep, and makes him cry  
Aloud this counsel: Princes see ye trie●  
Before ye trust, Those servants that be ill  
" At your command, for others money will  
" Betray you too: he easily will dispense  
" With greatest sins, who hath of small no sense.  
" Beware of such as flatter by traduction,  
" they'll first be others, then be your destruction.  
" Beware of privy whisperers and spies,  
" The truth they tell is but a sauce for lies.  
Beware of Ledgers, for legerdemain  
With others beside jugglers doth remain:  
" And cheating and crosse-biting Great ones may  
" In great things use, as Little ones at play.  
Beware of Clergy men their colour changing,  
And in each place with lawless freedom ranging.  
Take heed of Pensions, they have often slept,  
In privy Chambers, and at Counsel kept.  

Philip Commineus. lib. ●. c●p. 2,  And if it be a truth which some have told,  
Good men have had large sleeves to put up gold.  
With that he dies, and those that were within,  
Striving who first should greatest credit win,  
By carrying news of this accursed deed,  
Hinder each other in their hasty speed:  
And issuing out just as his chaps did close,  
Did their reward, life, fame, together lose.  
" Yet ill report finds wings in every place;  
And this unto the Sea-horse flies apace;  
Who (making too much haste) in top of pride,  
Nothing before, behind, nor 'bout him spied,  
And so, for lack of care, himself betrayed  
Into a pitfall which th' Egyptians laid.  
There he doth pine to death, and dying cries,  
" Who lives by treason, thus by treason dies.   

Epimythium.  
THe Crocodile is a Hieroglyphic of Honour or Nobility.  
The Hippopotame, of Impiety, Ingratitude, and lenesse.  
1. These two have continual war: and in that ●melion and Pol●pus (the types of subtle dissimu●ion, and crafty hypocrisy), join with Hippopotam●●ainst ●ainst the Crocodile; it gives honour warning to be●re of such who adapt themselves to please humours, sooth gross follies: for these though perhaps they ●me of their colour, wear their liveries, follow 〈◊〉 religion whom they depend upon, will notwithstanding for gain, judas like, kiss and betray ●em.  
2. In that the time when this was done, is said to in peace after sport: it shows that Honour which ●ings from action, decays with affectation of peace, ●d sleeps to death with immoderate pleasure in the ●mes or bed of security.  
3. The touch of Torpedo warns Greatness from ●oth, and to beware of such charming Counselors hide the truth of dangers from the eyes of States.  
4. Alcedos warning the Crocodile, tells us no danger ●mes without admonition: Wisdom cries out in ●e streets, it is our own fault if stopping our ears ●e perish wilfully.  
5. In that Ch●schillus sings the Crocodile asleep, tells us, flattery is the ruin of honour; yet the flat●rers note is sweeter, and welcomer to the ear, than the admonition of friendship and true love.  
6. In that Ichneumon and Cuschillus leap into belly, it shows Treason will pursue the blackest p●iect with most bloody and bold violence; and 〈◊〉 strive to double that sin with slander and misrepo● which once they contrived, applauded, and perh● persuaded Greatness to commit.  
7. In that Hippopotame falls into the Aegypti● trap, it shows what the Psalmist saith, Who dig● pit for another, falls therein himself. Treason e● betrays the Traitor, else it were not right treason.  
If any man inquire farther after this tale, let h● call to mind the late death of that renowned King France, whose life was terrible to Rome and her a● her●nts.  
He had many admonitions to beware of Iesuitic● practices, but would not take heed, his confident might rather be termed presumption then courage.  
I have heard a story of him which may be as true its strange: the probability is great.  
Monsieur D. Plessis (that glorious star of o● age) being ever bold with the King, because the ki● knew him honest, and durst trust him farther than Protestant Prince may trust a Popish Catholic wi● safety, told his Master that all the world did wond● at the sudden repeal of that edict of banishment solemnly made by the Parliament against all ●esuit● upon so just an occasion as the wounding of his sacr● person by one of their disciples. He humbly besoug● him to give him licence to put him in mind ho● once professing the reformed religion, even in arme● he had been defended from the treacheries of his enemies by that God whose cause he fought for. But now in the arms of peace, he was endangered by them who pretend his protection, for that they thought that howsoever for some respects he carried himself, he could not be in love with their darkness who had been acquainted with the true light: And the Protestants thought so likewise, the rather induced hereunto by God's miraculous deliverance of him from the horror of that bloody attempt, not suffering any part to be punished but his mouth with which he had offended. But he besought him to remember that the hearts of Kings are in the hands of God aswell as their heads; and if they forsake or forget him and what he hath done for them, he in justice often gives them ou●r into the hands of their enemies.  
I enforce no man to believe this Narration; the probability, with the credit of the Relator, and the success, have prevailed with me to accept and reportest. As his death was the damnable act of a jesuitical Assasinat of the Romish religion, so this admonition ●eares the shape of a true Israelit● and one of the house of peace.    

PHOENIX.  
DEDICATED To the honourable KNIGHT Sr. ROBERT rich, and his noble LADY.  
THere's but one Phoenix, is there had been more,  
Your names had stood within, but now before.  


Phoenix unica dicitur este, avis, & in toto orbe terrarum singularis. Isid.  TH' Arabian Phoenix, being noble, young,  
And newly from his father's ashes sprung,  
Seeing how other birds did lovers take  
Of their own kind, would needs like tr●● ma●●  
And thought by what good course he might prevent  
His doubted ruin, and seem provident,  
Where nature (as he judged) defective stood,  
In leaving single, such an absolute good.  
His means was marriage, married he would be,  
But where to choose a Mate he could not see:  
For choose he might and please his curious eyen,  
Each bird made suit to be his Valantine.   

The Pehen dressed herself and spread her tail,  
The Turkey●hen advanced her spotted sail.  
The Turtle left her mate to join with him,  
The Siluer-Swan, in ruffled pride did Swim,  
The Parakite, and Goldfinch,, City heirs,  
Offered him love, and what beside was theirs:  
The courtly Pheasant gaudy Pop●niay,  
In varied colours dressed themselves that day:  
The sweet Canary singer strove t'excel  
The merry-making mournful Ph●lomel;  
Who left deploring, and did mirth preferre●  
Wishing the Phoenix would have ravished her.  
All these, with all besides the rest excelling,  
Did woe him, proffer love, their passions telling.  
But all in vain; the bird of Paradise,  
Had with her pleasing form bewitched his eyes.  
He woos, and wins her too, with small ado,  
" Where both desire, both parties seem to woo:  
And who would not desire so rare a one,  
Whom ●ll desire, him to enjoy alone?   

They married are. Opinions equal voice,  
Say both are happy in each others choice.  
For she was fair, and rare, and rich, and young,  
And wise, and noble, and full sweetly sung;  
In ●ll complete she was, only did fail,  
Having too small a body for her toil.  
This fault she took by kind, it cost her nought,  
From her birth place the frailty first she brought.  
And though by all good means she strove to hide  
This natural blemish, still it was espied.  
And spied the more, because this corporal ill,  
Being single here, did each man's fancy fill.  
" That disproportion doubles in the mind,  
" Where we it single in the body find.  
And so it fell out here; not long they dwelled  
In peace, but love's fire alteration felt,  
And 'gan to slake and cool, where it should not,  
And where it should be cool, it waxed hot.  
She now did hate and loath, the sweet she had,  
And linger after something that was bad.  
Her tail was too too large for him to tread,  
He too too little her to overspread.  
To overspread her body was not much,  
But her insatiate tail, and mind was such.  
So weakest stomaches strongest meats desire.  
So greatest smoke riseth from smallest fire.  
So slender wits great matters undertake.  
So swift pursuit, doth slow performance make.  
So th' appetite, by impotence is moved.  
So she (though little) every great thing loved.  
She loved all great things, and all rare things sought,  
But what she had that she esteemed nought.  
She had what others longed for, and enjoy  
What all desired: and that enjoying cloyed.  
And now she gins to hate, and wish in heart,  
A fit occasion offered were to part.  
But wanting such, she frames one: doth traduce,  
And wound his honour for her own excuse.  
And still pretending modesty a cause,  
Immodestly, she trial claims by laws.  
Although the Phoenix her with tears did woe,  
She separation sought, and gets it too.  
The sentence past, she Cynosure doth wed,  
An unknown fowl, by th' air begot and bred.  
He (following kind) trod oft, and quenched her heat,  
And she laid oft, filled many a nest and seat  
With addle eggs; but never bird did spring●  
Out of those shells, nor other living thing.  
Yet some in their opinions counted wise,  
Say that such eggs do hatch the Cockatrice.  
Yet nothing from these spurious Embryos came  
But naked promises, and open shame.   

In memory of whose unhappy womb,  
That brought dead fruit forth, like a living tomb,  
(Dead fruit, much like fair apples all of smoke,  
Which grow in Sodom, and the eaters choke,)  
Each courtly lady now upon their head,  
Do wear a bird of Paradise, instead  
Of a light feather; which doth warning give,  
How free from lightness, Ladies ought to live:  
How constant they should be, how firm in love:  
Not feather-like, apt with each breath to move.  
How well proportioned, not so great below,  
But less in show, and more in truth to know.  
To fit the bottom with an equal sail,  
And not to overtop the head with tail.  
All this it tells them, and doth show beside,  
" How addle eggs spring out of lust, and pride.  
" How noble houses by ignoble deeds,  
" Bury themselves and their own ruin br●eds.  
" How beauty and all virtues of the mind,  
" Conjoinde with wealth, adorn not woman kind:  
" Except with these, true chastity be placed,  
" And that again, by modesty be graced.  
And now I will proceed to tell my story,  
How sad the Phoenix was in mind, how sorry  
To be so slighted and so ill respected,  
By her for whose sake, he had all neglected.  
This wounds his heart, and he resolves too late,  
All second matches for the first to hate;  
To live alone, and never mor● to mind  
Fond alteration, in the course of kind.  
But grief perplexed him so, he feared to die,  
E●●●e were fitted for posterity.  
And so his nest unmade, he quickly might,  
Both life, and nam●, and memory lose outright  
This to pre●ent, his ●light he nimbly takes  
O'er hill●s and dales, o'er deserts, rivers, lakes,  
O'er kingdoms, countries, bounding East and West,  
And spices gathers up to build his nest.  
Which made, and finding still ●is former grief,  
Not cured but growing desperate of relief,  
Him better seemed by privilege of kind,  
To kill his body, and renew his mind:  
To leave grief where it breeds with earth on earth,  
And recreate his spirit with spritely birth,  
(Lisiere, which touching powder strait resolves  
T●● grosser parts; and each itself involves  
In its own element) then so t'out wear  
And tire away with grief six hundred year,  
(For so long lives the Phoenix) but thought he,  
" So long ●e dies that lives in misery.  
And ●herefore soon betakes him to his nest,  
Wherefore-prep●r'd he finds his funeral dressed.  
The Sun shi●es bright and hot, he with his wings  
Makes more the heat: & sparkling diamond brings,  
Whose strong reflection, or retention rather  
Either beats back the heat, or heat doth gather.  
Which kindled (like dried leaves with burning glasses)  
Consumes the nest, and bird, and all to ashes.  
Upon these ashes fruitful dews descend,  
And the hot Sun his active beams do b●nd.  
So heat and moisture 'twixt them procreate,  
A silly worm unlike the bird in state.  
But time doth give it growth, and shape, and feathers,  
And still perfection from each hour it gathers.  
Till to the former equal it appears,  
Or rather all one bird, except in years.   

The ravenous Vulture wondering long had stood  
To mark all this, within a neighbour wood.  
Which having seen, ambition pricks her so,  
That she resolves what'euer power saith no,  
Example and direction hence to take,  
Herself and hers all Phoenixes to make.  
So calls she first the He, and then the young:  
And thus 'gan speak to them with ravished tongue.  
How much my power hath done, how much my wit,  
You know, yet know some repetition fit.  
I do the Eagle rule, (the birds brave King)  
And work him to my mind in every thing.  
He preys on whom I list; still on the best;  
Eats what I stint him, and leaves you the rest.  
I govern every Hawk, or bird of prey;  
Such as confront the Eagle, me obey;  
And make me sharer in their richest prize,  
And how to please me best, best means devose.  
I that despise Religion, scorn all law,  
Do bind all other birds to both by awe:  
To both for my advantage, else you know  
I can profane the Temple well enough;  
Pollute the Altar; search the grave, each tomb,  
And dig out of the privileged womb  
Of hallowed earth, dainties for you to lurch,  
Man's flesh, enshrined in the sacred Church.  
You know I foster Soldiers not for love,  
But to breed wars; the slain my prey still prove.  
All sorts, professions, kinds, I pray upon,  
When their sweet flesh is turned to carrion.  
For carrion is my food, let others kill  
And hazard life for life, we safely will  
Eat the unfortunate, the weak, distressed,  
Whom want enfeebled, mighty power oppressed.  
This is our practice. But I called ye now  
For higher aims: to give you notice how  
We may aspire in royalty and pride  
Above the Eagle, and all birds beside.  
Much time, much study, with full large expense,  
Have I bestowed, to gain● intelligence  
Of a rare secret, which exceedeth far  
Th' Alchi●isters Idol, called th' Elixir.  
This is, to understand and know aright,  
What course to take, and how we compass might  
The glorious eminence, the singular grace,  
The famous Phoenix hath in every place:  
How to attain her nature, beauty, state;  
And without copulation procreate.  
At length my wit, my industry, and chance  
Concurring, did this happiness aduance●  
For watching lately, as I often did,  
In desert vast, among thick bushes hid,  
I saw (unseen) the mystery throughout,  
And can resolve each rite, each scrupulous doubt.  
The circumstance were needless, whilst the fact  
Shall manifest each several Scene, and act,  
With happy issue; and accomplish so  
Our wishes, that we shall amazed go;  
Amazed go, to see ourselves so low,  
So soon to such a pitch of glory grow:  
So soon translated, metamorphosed,  
And new created from the foot to head:  
Beyond our hopes, report, the present station  
Of other birds, almost to adoration.  
Inquire not how, but each prepare t'obey,  
What I command; performance leads the way.  
High on, hie all, to several quarters fly,  
And through the whole world make a scrutiny  
For aromatic drugs, perfuming spices,  
Rare precious stones, rich jewels, strange devices.  
Bring them together, lay them on this hill,  
And the success refer to my deep skill.   

The young ones all obeyed, but then the Male  
Stayed long t'enquire the reason of this tale.  
Yet long he durst not stay, lest she from thence  
Should beat him for his arrogant offence:  
For females of all ravening fowls bear sway,  
And the black Vulture is a bird of prey.  
The male ne'er meddles with young, meat, or nest:  
But she commands, and he sits like a guest.  
He seeing her incensed, away doth post  
o'er many Seas, and many an unknown Coast,  
And all the world surveys from East to West,  
From North to South, and gathers what is best;  
Sweet odoriferous spices, ambergris,  
The Castor's stones, the Ermines spotted fleene,  
Rich lucerns, Sables, martin's, and the horse  
Of the most precious-seld-seen Unicorn.  
The Musk-cats cod, with Rubies blushing red,  
Quick-sparkling Diamonds cutting glass like lead;  
Bright shining Carbuncles, and Saphires blue,  
With jasper, jacinth; Emerals green in view;  
Perspicuous Crystal, orient Pearls large, round,  
And Gold, for which man doth the Centre sound;  
Black, white, green, marble; in-laid Porphyry,  
With Alablasters for Imagery:  
Truth-trying Touchstones, making things distinct,  
And what rariety else within precinct  
Of ample Nature dwells, they hither brought;  
With which a curious nest she neatly wrought,  
To match whose wealth remaining earth was base.  
Her s●lfe, Mate, young, each by themselves had place  
In this most royal building. Then in state  
Herself sat down, and next her musing Mate.  
Her young ones, then in order, One by One,  
And now the Sun shined hot on every stone  
The spice 'gan kindle. Now quoth she I find  
Myself half made immortal changing kind.  
The fire flamed fiercer then, and singed their wings:  
Be constant Sirs quoth she, you shall be Kings.  
" Gold crownes are heavy, toil is hard but gainful;  
" There is no excellent sweet but first is painful.  
They would have flown away, but 'twas too late.  
Quoth she the Phoenix dies to live in state.   

With that she sinks, her nest and all combust  
Her glorious hopes, and projects turned to dust.  
Which tells us this: Pride still doth over-build.  
●Folly is not in architecture skilled.  
●Wit frames his Plot according to his state,  
●And to a small house makes no lofty gate.  
about overbold Ambition fires her nest,  
●And proves her houses shame, her house a jest.   

Epimythium.  
The Phoenix betokens unity in Religion. This was proper to the Iew●s, but they forsook it, as the bird of Paradise did the Phoenix. Then it came to the Gentiles and seemed to return to its own nature to be universal, not tied to place, or Nation, or person. The Phoenix died, and out of the ashes arose a new Phoenix. Christ came not to destroy but fulfil the Law. The old faith remains which was first preached in Paradise, the ceremonies only are abolished by the presence of the thing signified. That seems another, which is the same truth. We Christians possess what the jews expected. They are divorced (with the bird of Paradise) for their unfaithfulness and unbelief; now they are wedded to the Cynosure their own wills and stiffnecked opinions and traditions. They tread and cackle, and lay eggs; addle eggs or rather adders eggs, eggs of wind without fruit, which never prove birds. They expect in vain an other Messias to save them, till the true Messias is ready to come to judge them. They are a scattered people, hateful to all where they inhabit.  
The ●Vulture and her brood is the Clergy of Rome; where the she or female prevails. She will be called the Mother Church, which is truly the whore of Babylon, the malignant Church, the Adversary, the Antichrist. She builds to her own ruin, her power and policy shall overthrow itself. She shall burn in her own nest. Let all such therefore as love the truth, and would save their souls, come out of her.    

UNIO.  
DEDICATED TO THE TRUE LOVER OF HIS COUNTRY Sr. ARTHUR HEVENINGHAM Knight, and his truly Religious LADY.  
YOU know the moods of Men, the tempers too  
Of Climes, of States, of Elements; Then who  
May better read this tale? The mind that's free  
Can judge diseases, and distempers see.  

THE Mole, Chameleon, and the Salamander,  
As near the Ocean they together wander,  
Spying at sea the Lamprey, hailed him thuss  
Good day my friend to you and eke to us.  
We three are met to argue and debate  
Which of us liveth in the happiest state;  
Whether the air, the earth, or fire doth give  
To what they breed best sustenance to live.  
And we would gladly hear how far the sea  
May with fire, air, and earth compared be.  
You happily we met as we would wish,  
Being a prompt, deep diving, subtle fish,  
And ablest to resolve us. Come then show  
The life you lead, and learn our lives to know.  
The Lamprey soon consents. And first the Mole  

Demogorgon omnium Deorum primus, in media terra degen●, crassissima n●bula circumdatus, situ obductus est. Ima Deorum ex Boccacio. Quoth non e●t cognitum est ens. Arist lib. 8 de gener. & corr. Impossibile ●st scire quid est ignorare, si est. Posterior. lib● 2. Plut●rch. vita The●istocl. Socra. Hoc scio me n●hil scire. Ouid. Met-lib 1. ● Omne quod fit a natu●a ●it secu●dum ordinem. Arist lib. 16. Animal.  Doth thus begin. Dear friends I left my hole  
To breathe the open air (whose light I hate)  
T'acquaint ye with the blessings of my state.  
And to persuade ye, if you love your rest  
To live with me in peace, and plenty blest.  
It fits me first to speak, for I had first  
My being, long before the earth was cursed.  
Darkness was not created; 'tis as old  
As that great workman which the whole doth mould  
But light was made long after, and doth show,  
That ignorance is elder than to know.  
The workman's self in cloudy darkness keeps;  
For no eye sees or when he wakes or sleeps.  
He loves not every curious fool should see  
What joys, what treasures, in oblivion be.  
The worthy Grecian would have learned that Art,  
For ignorance is wisdoms better part.  
When all was Chaos first the Centre stood,  
And all the solid parts, called Earth. The flood  
Was next being ponderous. The air flew higher;  
And as a hedge to all was placed fire.  
What first was placed was worthiest, & brought fort●  
The first of creatures, and best things of worth.  
And first it brought forth things that were below;  
The root had life, before the fruit did g●ow.  
And we (earths darlings) had our shape within  
Ere you without. Nor do th' effects of sin  
(Ambitious sin which light and'knowledge sought  
And (fond curious) blind obedience thought  
A base director) so afflict and kill  
Us h●re within; as you who share in ill  
Of punishment and guilt, with foolish man;  
Yet no way from his rule acquit ye can.  
You dwell with him, and dye with him. But we  
Are earth by nature, procreated free.  
And our forefathers customs still obey,  
Do as they did, and follow their blind way.  
Not striving busily our wits t'approve  
By searching doubts, but rather show our love,  
By loving eu●n their errors that are gone, 
Humnm degerit Talpa, & radices subt●a comedit & corrodit. Isid●●. 12.   
Or reverently believing they had none.  
Our diet is most choice, on roots to feed,  
And relish first the sweet of every seed.  
You live on th' excrement, and do not know,  
That fundamental virtue springs below.  
Besides you live like slaves, but I am free,  
Though bloody-minded Man oft seeks for me.  
The Lion did pretend because I have  
Four feet, that I by nature was his slave:  
He called for this a Council, sent for me  
To swear to his servile supremacy.  
But I (refusing th' oath) to spite him more  
Did undermine his councel-chamber flore  
And had not light (damn d light) my plot bewraide●  
He had to hell s●nke by the train I laid.  
But light discovered me, and since that deed  
I loathe light more, and so in darkness breed.  
Darkness thou sweet companion, friend of sleep,  
How I delight in thee. With thee doth keep  
All that man seeks for, every secret plot,  
Dark mystery, close sttatagem; what not?  
Invisible wealth, with treasures manifold,  
But chief Man's soul, his god, almighty gold.  
This Man knows well, and knowing learns of me  
To dig and delve till in his grave he be.  
Then all proclaim him happy: say he is  

Omnia corrumpuntur in ea ex quibus sunt. Ar● lib. 3. Metaphy.  At peace and rest, and doth emoy all bliss.  
And such say truth: for he returns again  
To his first being, and doth so remain.  
" Contentment with dark ignorance doth dwell,  
" And light and knowledge only maketh hell.  
Then without farther strife live all with me,  
If you will taste no pains, nor errors see.   

The changeable Chameleon laughed outright,  
To hear the blind Mole rail so much at light.  
And said; Your darker spirits can't conceive,  
The blessed fruit, that we from light receive.  
Let fools depend on faith implicative,  
Wisemen into the depth of truth will dive.  
Darkness and ignorance, which you suppose  

Tenebrae sunt privatio luminis. Arist. l. 2. de animal Arist● de gener. & corrup. lib. 1.  Had an eternal being, are the foes  
Of all eternal beings; and indeed  
Are void in nature without fruit, root, seed.  
Darkness is but the absence of clear light.  
As error is the ignorance of right.  
So these two are vacuities, want being;  
Not seen by others, nor yet others seeing.  
From nothing, nothing springs; something there was  
From whence this universal frame, this Mass  
Of strange agreeing contrarieties,  
Had essence: and 'twas something that had eyes:  
For sure it was not ignorance, nor night,  
They could not see to order things so right.  
But it was knowledge, wisdom, light, and truth,  
Figured in mature age, and active youth.  
The privilege you plead, Antiquity, 
Talpa sol● odit & fugit Isid. Omne animal generans; sibi similes habet oculos praeter talpam, etc. Arist.. Talpa non hab●t oculos quia in generatione e●us naturale editur. Arist● l. 4. de animals Talpa rostrum habe●●d modum porci.   
Proves only, that of old you us the to lie;  
And that all truth you hate, for truth doth run  
Still to the light, and you the light do shun.  
And where you challenge your creation first;  
It is not like, Nature would make the worst  
Before the best; except this can prefer  
Your claim, that as young workmen use to err  
In their first works; so Nature first did try  
To make right eyes, by making yours awry.  
Much rather truth it is, she did bestow,  
Labour in framing others; but for you,  
She left you to corruption, night, and chance,  
Which made you● eyes such, such your countenance.  
And your tame-blinde obedience well befits  
Such earth-bred, doltish, dull, and sluggish wits.  
But airy Spirits acquainted with the light,  
Will not be led by custom from the right.  
No love, no friends, no predecessor shall  
Pervert their judgements; they examine all.  
And for the food ye boast to eat boast still;  
No root, herb, fruit of yours, I handle will.  
They are corrupted. Air doth only give  
True nourishment, and happiest means to live.  
The sick-man shows this, who the weather fair,  
Remooves for health, from close to th' open air.  

Talpa. Cor●um rump●tur qu●●do incipit mo●i, & ●um ●●●pit ap●rire oc●los● A●●st.  And for the light, your death doth it approve;  
When only then your eyes are seen to move.  
Then you begin to see, and loath the kind  
Which being blind themselves brought you up blind,  
Bereaving you of many a bles●ed sight,  
Which we enjoy, ●ho love and live in light.  
Your freedom from all beasts I like. 'tis ill  
●o be subjected to another's will:  

A●r fit Cam leonti cibus. Chameleon gyrat oculos ●uos frequenter circumqueque. Arist.  B●t that to your superiors I do hate,  
And therefore am exiled from every state:  
I live a poor thin creature, by the air;  
Myself I feed with hopes, others with prayer.  
My eyes I oft lift up, and roole about,  
Desiring to be s●en to be d●uout.  
But neither with my bulk, nor with my back  
Supply the lest defect of others lack.  
I bear no Wooli to cloth, no flesh to feed;  
Let sheep, and Calves, relieve the poor that need.  
I ravished go with a distracted look,  
A●d turn my mind, still, as I turn my book,  
My will doth lead my conscience, not my wit.  
And every riddle for my purpose fit:  
Hating whatsoever is old, I love the new  
And to all purposes, change my ready hue.  
My flesh is low, my spirit high and proud  

Illud. quod est in corpore ●uo est modicae carnis.  Doth contradict what order hath allowed.  
I fast when others feast, feast when they fast,  
And with Angelical food, I do outlast  
All Gormandiz●rs. Come then, live with me  
All that love life, and light, and would be free.   

The Salamander hearing this discourse,  
Said. Sure you both do argue without force.  
Dark ignorance our nature doth contemn:  
And curious search wise Magistrates condemn  
By blindness we our wants and dotage show:  
To those, not reverence but reproach is due.  
Not privative blindness, our antiquity shows,  
But only that which by long seeing grows.  
But you blind Mole do ignorance affect,  
Which breeds derision, scorn and disrespect.  
For what a senseless part is this in you,  
Your father's ●aults and errors to allow?  
And not much rather to reform your own,  
By shunning the defects, which they have shown?  
Your food is gross and earthly; dirt and mould  
Mixed with old roots, do much corruption hold.  
Yet (though they gi'en to die, with age and wither)  
The good with bad (being old) you cram together.  
This makes my fiery spirit scorn to keep  
I● your dark celles, where knowledge seems to sleep.   

But you Chameleon with a hand too bold,  
Oppose, contemn, and scorn, whatsoever is old.  
You only love to see, but not to do,  
You dote on knowledge and on error too.  
" 'tis error, in our sight to overseen,  
" And but our own, all judgements disesteem:  
" 'tis error to be fond overwise,  
" Too pure, too just, too perfect, too precise.  
There is a meane● For knowledge sure doth live  
" Only, where it doth good to others give.  
You too too saucy hidden secrets handle,  
And too too fond your o●ne conceits do dandle,  
And cocker with observance: being so  
A friend to superstition, though a foe.  

Corpus pellucidum illum inatur per reflectionem, corpus coeleste solum per se. Com. in Arist. lib. 1. Met. Lux est visibilis per se: colour verò mediaute luce. Com. in Ar. l. 2. de Anima.  The light you use, is borrowed not your own,  
The colours that you see, their ground unknown.  
Your dark imperfect, double glimmering sight,  
Is but th' extended beams of greater light.  
Arising from vicinity of fire,  
To which the purest elements aspire  
In their refined parts; the earth in gold  
And precious stones, do most resemblance hold;  
The sea in salt, in Pearls, in dews that rise,  
And to the Sonne-ward with ambition flies;  
The Air in colours and in Meteors bright,  
Which the Sun's place usurp in darkest night.  
'tis fire alone that searcheth and refines,  
And doth divide the gross from purer mines.  
'tis fire that makes grass, herb, andtree to grow:  
Meltes the seas Icy chains, and th' earth's cold snow.  
It cheers the young, it cherisheth the old,  

Omnia elementa putresiunt preter ignem. Arist. l. 4. Meteo.  Revives the dying, makes the Coward bold.  
Nothing without it can be said to live,  
whatsoever hath being, it doth glory give.  
Which makes me to determine, that the light  
Which you invisible call, is but a spirit  
Made by your fear, and strong imagination,  
Without true being, essence, or foundation.  

Stellae e●●● non vidatur de die propter lumen solis ●om. Ar. l. 2. de Anima.  For light the greater 'tis, doth more appear;  
So should that light of lights, if such there were.  
My judgement therefore in this rule doth run,  
There's nothing greater than the glorious Sun,  
Here I set down my rest. And for the schools,  
That teach belief, let them still tutor fools.  
From your contention, my instruction sprung;  
And thus I learned to think when I was young.  
The Mole doth feed too much on earthly meat,  
And the Chameleon nought but air doth eat.  
I neither like your fast, nor yet your feasting, 
Salamar● drae tantus est rigour, ur ignem tactu extingu●t sicut glacies. P●●n l. 10. fructus arborum inficit, aquas corrumpit. Ex gu●bus s● quis comederit vel. biberi● mox necatur. Plin. l. 10. Murena non à suo simili concip●tur, sed à serpent. I sid. l. 12. cap. 6.   
For 'twixt you two all earnest turns to jesting.  
And doth persuade me think, there is no food,  
In earth or air, that doth or hurt, or good.  
So all my knowledge, practice, life, doth chime,  
According to the current, state, and time.  
I think they're only gulls that live in awe  
Of any thing but want, death, and the law.  
I quench all fiery zeal wheresoever I co●e;  
And would have Policy speak, Religion dumb.  
I poison with my breath, both foe and friend,  
And to my pleasuredo● each project bend:  
In brief I only am a freeman borne,  
Who love my s●lfe alone, and others scorn.   

The Lamprey hearing this damned Atheist tell,  
A tale befitting none b●t Machivael,  
Thrust his eye-guarded h●ad above the brim,  
Of the ruged waues● and to the shore did swim.  
And on his slippery belly 'gan to slide,  
Till he came near the Salamander's side.  
Thou cursed slave (quoth he) though I proceed  
From some of thy near kin, of serpent's seed.  
And am half serpent, as thou wholly art,  
Yet I am half a fish; and even that part  
Provokes me contradict the cursed note,  
Which thou didst vomit from thy venomed throat.  
Thy Pedigree is lineally detived  
From that great Serpent, which at first deprived  
The rest of feet; and being overwise  
Gulled credulous man of glorious paradise.  
Still thou partak'st that nature, and each tree,  
Thy tongue or teeth touch, so infected be  
In root and fruit, that who so eats doth die,  
Poisoned b'accurst, cold infidelity.  
Too light belief, and too too earnest thirst  
Of curious knowledge, caused de●th enter first:  
But now thy skill hath brought it so about,  
That hearing, seeing, feeling, still we doubt.  
And flying one extreme, we fond fall  
Into the contrary; wise, fools, and all.  
" Yet blindness better is, then having eyes,  
" Not t'acknowledge truths, but count them lye●.  

Dubitato. ●um solummodo ●st veritatis inquisit●o. A●stot. Me●. l. 3. " 'tis better to be doubtful what we know,  
" Then to be Truths professed and open foe.  
The Mole and the Chameleon better are,  
And nearer truth, than thou thyself by far.  
Yet the Chameleon somewhat doth resemble  
Thy nature, but he can more close dissemble.  
He is not so profane, so impious, bold,  
To call all truth in doubt, both new and old;  
Though he gives darkness not the praise he ought,  
And too too curious, after knowledge sought:  
Yet he confesseth that there is a light  
He cannot see, through th' impotence of sight.  
But you all light and knowledge do confine  
Within the Sun, as if it were divine:  
And like a desperate traitor, foolish thief,  
From art and nature steal, to kill belief.  
Come then good fellows (quoth the Lamprey) take  
This monster up against us; let us make  
Him an example of our justice shown,  
Upon Truths foe, so manifestly known.  
With that he nimbly twines himself about  
The Salamander (being quick and stour:)  
Chameleon and the Mole, the Lamprey aid  
Which makes the Salamander much disinayed.  
Yet he doth lay about with tongue, teeth, nails,  
And bites them all, but odds at length prevails.  
And they remaining victors cast him down  
F●om the steep cliff, and so the Atheist drown.   

Then coming back, they two the Lamprey pray  
His wi●e opinion of their strife to say:  
That they may know to which part he inclines  
Whether to darkness, or where splendor shines.  
He soon consents, and tells how he (by kind  
B●ed and brought up in ●u●) is of the mind  
The Mole spoke truth. For happiness (quoth he)  
" Consists in what we have, not what we see.  
And sight provokes us wish, and covet change  
And so in boundless, endless, toil we range.  
" He that knows most, knows best what he doth miss,  
" The loss of Paradise is only this.  
" Th● simple innocent truth this instance fameth;  
" Man in the dark being naked nothing shameth.  
Thus he discoursed, then tells how he behaves  
Himself in darkness, underneath the waves.  
How he prefers old gnorance, before  
N●w Knowledge, and (I wot) knows cause therefore.  
Shows how for this opinion he was brought  
Before the Whale, yet lo●g in vain was sought:  
Tells how he escapes the search b● many creeks  
And winding holes, when Hipp●a him seeks:  
For they (Phoenician Crevishes being swift)  
Are Pursuivants which he can hardly shift:  
Yet he hath learned counsel, who directs  
His whole proceeding when he aught suspects.  
First subtle Polypus to whom he cleaves,  
And seeming part of him the search deceives.  
The turbulent Cuttle, who doth raise the mud,  
And such a colour mingle with the flood,  
That no eye can discover where he lies,  
And so he often escapes the crafty spies.  

L●mprey quasi Lampetra● Of licking rocks. Camden.  Then creeps to stones that lie on silt and sand,  
(Not to the cornerstone on steadfast land●)  
And if by chance they find him spite of these,  
And so attach him, than he can with ease  
Slip through their fingers, or himself unwind,  
By leaving some part of his slime behind.  
He can equivocate, and double so,  
That ●uery way at once he seems to go.  
Yet once he taken was, and brought to trial,  
Where with his doubtful answers, stifle denial,  
Low crouching, smooth conveyance, flattering guise  
He scap't th' Exchequer, Prison, and th' A●s; si●e.  
Then being asked, why darker ignorance  
Before the light he did in speech advance.  
He answers, first it was to try his wit;  
Not that he held it, to be true or fit.  
Again, because ●inall use of light he had,  
He to make some fools like himself was glad●  
With these sly answers, and great friends beside,  

Bribes are faithful friends, for gifts corrupt the wise.  And faithful bribes, he did from danger glide:  
And such fe●'d friends he had in every Court,  
And every office, at the least report  
Of threatened danger rounded him in th' ear  
To shift ●is scat, before the storm came near.  
●en shows he how the better to disguise  
●is double face, he had two rows of eyes:  
●s though he loved all knowledge, and all light.  
●ut (quoth he) only two of these have ●ight;  
●he rest are hypocritical and blind:  
●et their appearance calms the Whales fierce mind  
●hose easy nature open to abuse,  
●akes show for substance, colour for excuse.  
●hus adapt and frame myself to follow  
●he Whales command, although my hea●t be hollow,  
●iue at quiet, offices obtain,  
●ace in the wars, and in the Coram gain.  
●ll which shall turn unto the Whale's destruction:  
●euer great fish, move but insurrection:  
●or I'll discover all when time shall fit;  
Who trusts a half friend, hath not half his wit.  
whilst thus he argued, and the Mol● grew proud,  
●o hear affected ignorance allowed:  
●nd that so many in that large dominion,  
remained upholders of his stiff opinion.  
●he thin Chameleon 'gan look big and swell,  
●nd each complained himself he was not well,  
●ut then too late, they found how they were stung  
●nd poisoned by the Salamander's tongue.  
●here was no help, but die they must. In vain  
●hey weep; and each to other show their pain,  
●ill justice did by death their pain conclude,  
●ith tragic end closing their interlude.   

Epimythium.  
The Mole is the blind, obstinate, refractory Romish Catholic, who hath no other answer or reason for any article of faith, or point of religion, but this: My predecessors were of this opinion, and they were wiser than I am. His Positions are. 1. Ignorantia est matter de●otionis. 2. Caeca obedientia meruit ex condigno. 3. ●ides implicativa sufficit. He obeys that which he calls the mother Church, before God, who is his heavenly Father. For he had rather break ten of his commandments then one of hers. God's Sabbath day is his playday, and every Saint's day, his Sabbath. What he spends on Christmas day, he spares on Ash-wednesday, and Goodfriday. And this is his general rule, two fasting days, makes the third a glutton.  
The Chameleon is in England a Familist, at Amsterdam a Brownist, further on an anabaptist He lives by the air, and there builds Castles and Churches● none on the earth will please him. He would be of the triumphant and glorious Church, but not of the terrene militant Church, which is subject to storms, deformities, and many violences and alterations of time; he must findeout Sr. Thomas Mores Utopia, or rather Plato's Community, & be an Elder there: In this point, and in that of r●●isting civil governors, he seems the same with the Romish Catholic. But they are tie only by the tails, like Sampsons' foxes, their heads like janus look diverse ways. They are Boutefewes & carry betwixt them a firebrand to inflame all Christendom. They have in the imagination an Idea of ●uch a Church, and such keys as the Romanists mad● boast they possess: but they will not have them the ●me, nor to resemble theirs. Foolish Alchimisters●hey ●hey are both, seeking a Philosopher's stone, and neglecting the true Elixir, the Corn●r-stone. They boast ●o build gold on the foundation, when what they ●aube on is adulterate stuff, laid b●side the foundation. They beggar themselves in s●●king for wealth abroad, whilst at home they neglect that Pearl of in●●tinable price, for which the wise M●rchant gives all ●hat he is worth. If ever I could hear Papist clear ●he Pope from being Antichrist and prove he must be ●ne singular person, I would then believe that he ●hould not spring from a ●ew of the tribe of Dan, as ●hey fable, but from a promiscuous conjunction betwixt two fugitives, to Amsterdam, and Rome.  
The Salamander is the Atheist, he is contrary to himself, and hateful to others; he poisons all with whom he con●erseth, and knows some Philosophy ●no Divinity. He seeks all wisdom in himself, where the Tutor is the Master fool; and is so inquisitive after the cause, that he forgets both the ●nd and the causer. His reason is his god, and that being false, is not able to direct him to search & see the true God. Thus he is drowned in the sea of his own foolish and boundless imaginations● and being 〈◊〉 a pretty child, is brought up for his mother's Cocknie, spends 
Lamprey, quasi Lampetra Of li●●ing the r●ck●. Camden in Worstershire.  his youth like a witie fool, his Manhood like a reasonable beast, and his age (if judgement cut him not off) like ● devil incarnate.  
The Lamprey is the subtle shotten Catholic or Church Papist. He cousins the law and his own sou● too. He is worse to trust then the open and professed 〈◊〉 cusant. He hath no good conscience, for Conscientia 〈◊〉 scien●ia cum alia scientia. N● good zeal, for zeal 〈◊〉 Intentio virtutu● theologicarum (An opposite to Hypocrisi●, with which h● cloaks himself from all pena● statutes). H● is neither fish nor fle●h; but half fish, an● half Serpent, as they s●y which write of the generation of the Lamprey. A man m●y easily surfeit of such meat, and a S●ate so ●ne endanger itself by suffering such to increase. There is no law can meet with thei● fraud. The Churchwarden is the Coppiholder. The Parson is his Chaplain. These dare not present him. A fine will undo the first, and a prohibition begged the other: yet these the law presumes must first speak or none. If these do their office, the I weary are perhaps his tenants; he is a justice of peace, a great man their neighbour. If they find him guilty, there are pillars in the exchequer: or if these fail, a friend or kinsman in Court makes all sure. These escape thus themselves, and shelter others in their houses and abroad. Because the State through connivance accepting a weak and imperfect show of conformity, gives credit to their conversions, and entrusts them in place where they may do much hurt. The goods, leases and moneys of the meaner and more resolute sort are passed over to these, and pass free under their privileges and protections. The Character to know these is this. They come to Church once a month, and then when Prayers are done and the Psalms sung, perhaps at the beginning of the Sermon. They are pragmatical, and have for the most part travailed and ●rought home ignorance: They are stiff and inflexible, and call it strength to oppose truth and reason. They extol foreign government, and slight all domestic graces. They magnify the Infanta, the Archduke, and Spinola; but vilify his Excellence and the States. They will dispute scandalls● or what may seem scandalous, and that only at tables, where if you stop their mouths with argument, they pretend they could say more, but that their mouths are stopped with meat. They travail still on Sundays, and remove against Easter.    

Struthiocamelus.  
DEDICATED To the virtuous Knight, Sir john Heveningham, and his charitable Lady.  
WHat on ourselves we spend, doth through us pa●  
And leave us ●aked, as this Ostrich was:  
This makes you on the poor bestow so much,  
And no expense but own yourselves to grudge.  

A Wealthy Merchant late in Barbary,  
Through sandy deserts passing; chanced to sp●  
An Ostrich eating iron which he found,  
By Travellers scattered upon the ground:  

Tantae caliditatis est Stru●hiocamelus quod ferrum deglutit, dirigit & co●sumit Isisid.  Quoth then this Merchant; prithee let me know,  
What nourishment, can from those metals grow?  
Th● Ostrich answers; Sir I do not eat  
This iron, as you think I do, for meat.  
I only keep it, lay it up in store,  
To help my needy friends, and friendless poor.  
I often mere (as far and near I go)  
Many a fow●dred horse that wants a shoe:  
Serving a Master that is moneyless:  
Such I relieve and help in their distress.  
With travellers I meet that are beset  
By thieves and ●obbers often. Then I beget  
Myself a●ong the thickest, and present  
Out of my ●aw a pistol ready bend,  
A sword and dagger, or some such like tool,  
To help the true man, and the thief to cool.  
The Merchant mus'de (as well he might) at this,  
And thought within himself; this fellow is  
Most fit for my employment, I will strait  
Hire him to be my Bailiff. No deceit  
Lurks in his simple show; he'll surely keep,  
My plow-yrons, when my lazy hinds do sleep.   

This to the Ostrich motioned, he agrees,  
The wages are set down, the veils, the fees,  
The livery, with circumstance enough,  
And they come home● And now God speed the 〈◊〉  
The Ostrich carefully lays up the rakes,  
The pitchfork teines, the yron-pointed stakes,  
The wedges, hammer, hatchet, and the nails,  
Th● scythe, the sickle, and the biles of pails,  
The share, the coulter, heele-yorne, and the cock,  
The whip, the horse● shoe, with the key and lock.  
He needs no lock and key to keep them under,  
But keeps both lock & key, where you would wonder.  
Then comes into the house, puts up the gun,  
The sword and dagger; and when this is done,  
Devours the dripping-pan, the cob-irons, spit,  
And swallows all the iron bit by bit.  
The Merchant praised his fortune, that he had  
Got one so good, 'mongst many servants bad.  
Told him he shortly would his state prefer,  
From being Bailiff, to be Treasurer;  
For he could not invent a surer hold,  
Then th' Ostrich had for silver, or for gold.   

And now the Merchant leaving one at home,  
That he may well trust, goes abroad to room:  
Neglects his house and lands, thinks all is well,  
And as he want to do, doth buy and sell.  
Mongst other things he sold, because the wars  
Began afresh, he truct for iron bars.  
For he was one of those that would for gain:  
Sell bullets, where they were shot home again,  
And did our Mines and Woods on Ordnance wast,  
Which spite of laws, he to the Enemy past,  
Much iron he had at home, and sold beside  
All kind of armour fit for such a tide.  
So home he comes glad of so good a mart,  
For here he knows the Ostrich plays the part  
Of a good Bailiff. He may easily thrive,  
When such a full wind doth his fortune drive.  
His land he finds untilled, he wonders then  
And thinks the fault rests on his lazy Men.  
They say they wanted irons for the plough,  
He wonders, for the Bailiff had enough.  
He finds his house all naked, not a bit  
Of meat prepared, the Cook wants pot, and spit●  
He goes to bed, the thieves assault his house:  
He hath no weapon to resist a Mouse.  
H● riseth early, looks for his munition,  
The place remains, no iron in fruition.  
His bars are gone, his householdstuff, and all,  
Now to account his Bailiff he doth call.   

The Servants join in their petition first,  
And show their griefs, ●ow hard he was, and cursed.  
How he kept back their wages and their meat,  
And gave them work, but gave them not to eat.  
How he near hand had made a monstrous nest,  
Where whilst they fasted, he and his did feast.  
And thither he conveyed the iron work  
Where the she Ostrich and his young did lurk;  
Who swallowed all: for they have maws as large  
As culverins, which would as soon discharge  
The iron load; and sooner far would spend,  
And bring a world of wealth to lavish end.   

The Ostrich to excuse himself bewrays  
The place where safely he this iron lays.  
Carries him to a private hole, where still  
He dunged, when he his maw did overfill.  
Quoth he if you can good distinction make,  
Each several piece you may from hence uptake.  
The plow-geares, cart-geares, and the tool for war, 
Stercusferri eximium rarumque medicamentum ad omnesiocineris & splenis obstructiones. Mathiol● Medicamentum ex●ccacatorium. Idem Mathiol.   
Spits, pots, and cobirons, here together are.  
Each wedge, knife, hammer, and the smallest nail,  
Drawn lymbic wise through stomach, guts & tail  
It's a rare chemical extraction now,  
Better than all the drugs the Mountebanks show.  
It passeth our elixir, or the stone●  
Sought for by many, but attained by none.  
Th' obstruction of the Liver, and the spleen,  
It opens, mollifies, and purgeth clean.  
A secret 'tis assured, for madness, folly,  
Wild jealousy, and cloudy melancholy,  
It cures the Gout, and qualifies the cause,  
Suppling a hidebound purse like th' oil of laws:  
It dries up humours, humours that a bound,  
And man's weak body it makes safe and sound.   

The merchant stood amazed, but at the last,  
He seized upon the Ostrich, held him fast:  
Made him be tide be●inde a horse, and stripped,  

They are called his eggs, because he trod the hen that laid them.  (His buttocks bare as now they be) and whipped.  
Ransacked his nest, and broke before his face  
His eggs, though his poor Hen in hope of grace,  
Did sue for their reprivall. But in vain,  
He look●s to find his Iron there again.  
Which missing he proceeds, exiles him quite,  
And then upon his gate this note doth write.   

Let Rich-men wisely fear,  
All such as feathers wear,  
It's lost whatsoever they borrow,  
And soon their maws goes thorough:  
The substance they consume  
To nought but smoke and rheum;  
But th'use they never fail  
To pay with tongue and tail.   


Naturaliter equum odit Aren●m fodit & ibi ponit ova ●ua quae fabulocooperit & regi●  The Ostrich ever since his breeches lost,  
Goes like a naked rogue at whipping post.  
He hates a horse to death since he was stripped,  
And for his fault, tied at his tail and whipped.  
He hides his eggs, and covers them from sight,  
Lest man should find & break them. Thus they write.   

Epimythium.  
THe Merchant. figur●th Parsimony, the Ostricl prodigality; what the one gathers, the other spends. Ages, nations, and particular persons have their alternal variations and vicissitudes, even in gathering and expense, as in all other passages. ●There be few scraping father's, but their children prove witty scatterers, or foolish retainers: experience of many ages scarce produce one contradiction to this general observation. The father useth no more diligence in damning his soul by getting goods unlawfully, than the son doth in spending them prodigally: Let this therefore learn Usurers, Engrossers, and Oppressors of all professions, (if they love their wealth, and would not have it wasted; or love their children, and would not have them undone) to secure their estates rather from their children, then for them. It is not the want, but the enjoying of abundance that undoes many men. The rich father who dares bestow nothing on himself; and the prodigal son that spends all on others, and keeps nothing for himself, are the miserablest beggars in the world. Others have pity and provision to help them, t●ese nothing but derision and scorn. No Hospital will entertain them; only the father finds room in Bedlam, and the son a hole in the Counter, or a dungeon in Newgate.    

ONOCROTALUS.  
DEDICATED TO THE RIGHT hopeful KNIGHT, Sir THOMAS SOUTHWELL.  
YOur name hath long been mist, now fairly rise  
And make your Country flourish. All our eyes  
Are cast upon your actions; then on us  
Reflect your love. eat Onocrotalus.  


●nocrotaus est avis luos ha●ens vte●os. In uno ●ecipit, in 〈◊〉 deco●uit. Isid.  Whilom within the Persian gulf did haunt  
A fowl much like our greedy Cormorant,  
Called Onocrotalus, who used to prey,  
On fish, or fowl, or beast which past his way.  
He had a crop under his bosom wide,  
In compass like a sack, and thereto side.  
Much harm and spoil he did, for none could pass  
But filled his pouch, if bird, beast, fish, it was.  
At length th' oppressed birds, with fish, and beast,  
Petition to their Sovereigns, and request  
Aide and protection 'gainst the open wrong,  
This tyrant daily did, and had done long.  
The beasts unto the Lion made complaint.  
Birds to the Eagle. Fishes did acquaint  
The Seas great Emperor the Whale. with grief,  
They all sustained, and all implored relief.  
Long was it ere they could be heard, for still,  
The Cormorant, (for so we call him will)  
Had many friends in every Court, which he  
Maintained with large shares, and full liberal fee.  
For still his gorge full laden, ready stood,  
And when they missed elsewhere they here had food:  
Food of each kind, for every stomach fit,  
And such as favourites were, had part of it.  
Long thus he put them off, yet at the last,  
By counter-bribes, their weak petitions past.   

The Eagle first did seek him, and he found,  
The thief where he would wish, upon the ground,  
Quoth he, well met, are you the fowl that prey,  
Upon our harmless subject's night and day,  
That none can this way pass and use his trade,  
But is a subject to your fury made?  
Not I sir (quoth the Cormorant) I am one,  
That live in contemplation all alone.  
This poke I beg with, to sustain my need,  
And I no fowl am but a beast indeed.  
Quoth then the Eagle, wherefore serve thy wing?  
O (quoth the Cormorant) thou mighty king  
Of feathered fowls, these two are my forefeet,  
Held up to honour thee, with reverence meet.  
And that thou mayst be full resolved, and know  
That I unto the Lion duty owe,  
As subjects to their Sovereigns, not to thee,  
Without thou wilt usurp authority,  
And into other neighbour Realms encroach  
(Which to thy justice were a fowl reproach)  

●strum ●aquam ergens ●rridum● cit ●o●m, Asino mor●. id.  Hear but my voice. With that he steps aside,  
And in the water thrusts his weazand wide,  
And like an Ass 'gan bray. The Eagle strait  
Hearing his voice, suspected no deceit,  
But p●●● away to seek what now he saw.   

When the late noise he made did thither draw  
The kingly Lion, who did hunt about,  
As th' other did to find th' oppressor out.  
And when he spied him; What art thou quoth he  
The beast 'gainst whom so many plain to me?  
O noble Lion, quoth the Cormorant,  
I am a fish, the water still I haunt.  
And here I take my food, and lead my life,  
Free from oppression, and each cause of strife.  
Why, quoth the Lion, now I heard thee bray  
Like to an Ass. True, True, my Lord ye say,  
(Quoth this smooth hypocrite) for I would fain  
Be like an Ass, so innocent and plain.  
I love beasts well, and next your excellence,  
The humble Ass, for still his patience.  
And now to put your highness out of doubt,  
Behold me swim and dive, (so launched he out  
Far from the Lion's reach) If beasts quoth he,  
Can swim and dive thus, I a beast may be.  
With that he diues, saying, Sir fare you well,  
Your fair commends to the King Whale I'll tell.  
The Lion parted thence; the Whale that way  
Had sought this Monster all the livelong day;  
And seeing such an uncouth thing glide past,  
Within his Kingdom, with such nimble haste;  
He called and bade him stay, and willed him tell,  
If he were Onocrotalus, that fell  
And cruel murderer, who havoc made  
Of all that in that wealthy Rode did trade?  
O mighty Emperor (aloud he cried)  
I hardly scap't even now his cursed pride  
For being by my noble Master sent,  
(The Eagle King of fowls) you to present  
With birds and other junkets in my crop,  
He needs would me from your glad presence stop;  
And but he heard you coming, I surmise,  
His lawless force had made me lawful prize.  
Quoth then the Whale, I search to meet that slave.  
But what art thou that canst so well behave,  
Thy tail and nimble fins? Art not a fish?  
That I were such (quoth he) it is my wish.  
I like thy milder reign where subjects say,  
For love, and not for dread, they thee obey.  
And would armed in white scales, if I might choose  
Serve thee a fish, and my black feathers lose.  
But Nature this forbids; yet still I strive,  
Even from my youth, fish-like to swim and dive:  
And understand their language, and converse  
With them whose civil manners, are less fierce  
Than beasts or birds be. For they drink far more  
And eat much less, than we do on the shore.  
This drinking I delight in, and have tried,  
By all good means to make my belly wide.  
Yet see, I am a fowl. So up he hies,  
And takes his wings with speed, and far thence flies?  
The Whal● then found his cunning and strait sent  
A privy letter of his close intent,  
Both to the Eagle and the Lion stout,  
To meet and join, and find this Outlaw out.   

They met, and joined, and then this Outlaw found  
Nor in the Sea, nor yet upon the ground:  
Nor flying in the air, but in a hold,  
A hollow tree, whose strength made braggart bold.  

●in litoquies●ēs ●rum su●uper ●um eri●Et sui us acute con●nsul●um ●ipitris ●raemu●s●d.  They spoke him fair, but he discerned plain,  
Their drift, and crider Fair words make Idiots fain.  
They threatened him, but threats he doth deride,  
And saith, by threatening words none ever died.  
The Eagle would have ventured on his nest,  
But he his bill held right upon his breast,  
Like a stiff souldi●rs pike, sharp, long, and armed;  
And no way but right down he could be harmed.  
The Lion would have torn with teeth and nails  
The tree up by the root, but wanted sails  
To swim so far, for it in waters stood.  
The Wh●le then thought to toss it in the flood,  
But in a rock it grew, and growing so,  
He bade them do their worst, he feared no foe.  
They said, they would besiege and starve him out;  
He laughed amain, and showed how 'gainst that doubt  
He was provided, having store to serve  
So long, till if they stayed, they all would starve.  
Then each bethought himself of many a wile  
And warlike stratagem, how to beguile  
This politic Rebel, and to force him yield  
Or starve within, or venture to the field.   

All works the air, the water, or the land  
Did ere produce, these Captains understand:  
B●t none found able to enforce his strength:  
The warlike Ly●n yet conceived at length  
How to effect it. Great confederates hear,  
(Quoth he) what I propound. There's vought I fear  
But what I speak of. Once I did rebel  
Against out General Sovereign Man: to tell  
This fault doth touch my honour, but you all,  
I ●now have been copartners in my fall,  
And his most gracious pardon. Then, O then  
I kept within my fort, a hideous den  
Carved out of rock it was; and no way he  
Could force me out, or make assault on me.  
At last with indignation moved, he takes  
A mighty flint up, and with hurling, breaks  
The same against a rock, which flying sings,  
And sparkles from the air betwixt them springs  
As from a red-hot iron, when a Smith  
With heavy hammer beats it on a stith.  
near hand he had before laid leaves with rose  
From Okes torn with a Northern blast, and moss  
Dried in the parching Sun: and wood which died  
By kill age, and stood my den beside.  
The sparks inflamed this stuff, which in the mouth  
Of my dark Cave he placed: the wind then South  
Forced in the smoke, and this ayre-thickning smoke  
Infored me thus, either come out or choke.  
The issue you remember: this alone  
Must be our project now; or Art hath none.  
High therefore brave-bird brother, quickly take  
'twixt your strong talents this great flint, and make  
Experience of my plot. Mount with it hie  
And let it fall, that fire may from it fly:  
Which kindled once, fan gently with your wing,  
And cherish with soft breath: then let the king  
Of fishes with his mighty nostrils puff  
Till it flames fiercely, and burns hot enough.   

This counsel they applaud; but th' Eagle thought  
How purer, hotter, flames might soon be ●ought:  
And up he nimbly fares the milk-white way,  
Where (being a minion known) he finds no stay;  
Each door ●●ies open alone, till to the ear  
Of mighty love he gets, and let him hear  
His business and his suit, which was for fire  
And thunderbolts; love grants his full desire.  
Down quickly he descends and makes a train  
About the place where this thief doth remain:  
Then powder he applies unto the root  
Of t'hollow tree, and thence the slave doth shoot.  
He shoots him thence into the air as hie,  
As th' Eagles self could follow with his eye.  
And down he comes and doth descend the deep,  
Where the still Centre doth no motion keep.  
Then up again above the swelling maine,  
He bounds, there floating without sense or pain.  
And ere he can recover labouring breath,  
That's lo●h to part, the Whal● from underneath  
The traitor doth attach, and straightway brings  
To be arrayned before the other Kings.  
Him they examine, but he will confess  
No truth, but what they know as he doth guess.  
Then they do rack him (being rend before)  
Yet he no truth, but many a lie doth roar.  
Till with the violent torture and constraint,  
Life almost failing, and with sufferings faint,  
His gorge he vomits and bewrays with pain  
The truth, for which they sought so long in vain.   

And first (preposterously) he casteth out,  
All slimy lubric meats, Eel, Gudgeon, Trout;  
The City heirs, Gilt-head and Golden-eye,  
Belonging to the Sea-kings sovereignty.  
And with this evidence convict, the trial  
Proceeds to prove him guilty in denial  
Of farther wrongs done. The Woodcock, Parrot,  
The Goose, the Dotterel, lack●daw prone to parrot,  
The Sea●gull and the Cinclos weak and friendless,  
And of poor widow- Turtles numbers endless,  
With diverse subjects to the royal Eagle,  
He doth as easily void, as erst inveigle.   

Yet still unto the Lion he denies  
Himself a trespasser, but all those lies  
He lately made, and late was taken in,  
Afford presumption of his farther sin.  
For which again they rack him one pin higher,  
And then he utters more than they desire.  
A foolish Coney, and an innocent Lamb,  
A credulous Cal●● new weaned from the dam,  
And yet in wardship; a ridiculous M●use  
For fear of Cats leaving her sheltering house:  
And last of all, (for which the Lion grieved)  
A Hare, from execution oft repreeved.  
All these with easy utterance, doth declare  
That he did fowl, nor beast, nor fishes spare  
But preide on all, and so became a prey  
To the Eagle, Whale, and Lion, every way.  
Which proved and made by demonstration plain,  
Beyond the power of impudence to feign:  
He than excepts against th'undue proceeding,  
They in his apprehension used, not heeding  
The law of Nations, but by force constraining  
(Himself) an others subject, remaining  
In peace, and league with them, to be arrayned  
Like to a Traitor, and with tortures pained.  
He saith the place he kept in was without  
Their jurisdiction, and he made no doubt  
To prove it with large privileges blessed  
A sanctuary for the poor distressed.   

They slight his cavils; And the Whale demands  
In whose unknown, strange government it stands  
If not in one of theirs? For air, earth, sea,  
And all they have (but Man and what Man's be),  
Do properly belong to one of these,  
Who may dispose of all, as they best please.  
I pray then (quoth the Cormorant) relate  
To whose Imperial crown, and to whose state,  
My envied nest belongs? which of you three  
Claim th' interest as Lord by right of fee?  
For if it proper be to one, the rest  
Have done much wrong, t'usurp his interest  
Whose it should be. This question he did make  
Hoping thereby their settled loves to shake  
●y covetous ambition, whilst they all  
●ould make their claims, and so asunder fall.  
●ut the foreseeing Eagle bids him mind  
●is own affairs, and not to think t'vnwinde  
●he snares true justice lays about his life,  
●ut interposing such slight cause of strife  
betwixt such firm friends, in strong league combined  
And with all strength of intercourse entwinde.  
And yet to satisfy this curious doubt,  
Know (quoth the Eagle) that being hemmed about  
With floating waters, it belongs to him  
Who governs all that in the waters swim.  
But as it on the steadfast earth doth stand,  
It longs to him that is the king of land.  
And the large tree which spreads his spacious bows  
In th' open air, within my kingdom grows.  
Thy nest thus longs to all of us, thy food  
Stolen from our subjects, in th'air, earth, flood:  
And thou thyself must needs, if thou be'st either  
Beast, bird, or fish, be one of ours; if neither,  
Say what thou art, or whose thou art; for all  
But Man and Monsters in this number fall.   

Then (quoth the Cormorant) I do belong  
Unto the fearful Dragon, whose black tongue  
Threats death to each of you, and keeps in awe 
Draco maximus est cunctorum serpentium à spelnuci● abstractu● sertur in aerem.   
Your humbler spirits, making his will your law,  
He is the king of serpents, whose strong breath  
Confounds your strength with all-subduing death.  
He rules the upper region, purging fire  
Which searcheth hell, and doth to heaven aspire.  
This, this alone it was which I obeyed  
When that strong law unto my nest you laid.  

Excitatur propter ●um aer, & mare contra eius ventu● contumescet. Isid. lib. 12. Solum habet venenum in lingua & in fell. Plin. ●  But you that sprightly power by intrusion  
Falsely usurped to my devout confusion.  
Fire only to the Dragon doth belong;  
To him, and unto me, you have done wrong.  
To him I do appeal; and have resort  
In this great cause to his infallible Court.   

This speech inflamed their hearts with heat & scorn  
To be confronted thus, thus overborne  
By a base villain who did proudly brag on  
The free protection of their foe the Dragon.  
So with a full resolve, they all agree  
Each for himself and his revenge to be.  
The Lion takes, feet, head and throat away:  
With those he walked and like an Ass● did bray.  
The Eagle seizeth on his wings and tail,  
With these he bird-like in the air did sail.  
The Whale his body swallows at a bit  
Which he used fish-like, dived and swum with it.  
Thus Traytor-like he's quartered out and carved;  
Would land and water Pirates were so s●ru'd.   

Epimythium.  

The water Pirate every one doth know  
They rob our Merchants, and allegiance owe  
To no command; duty to none will give,  
But outlaws, like the sea wherein they live.  
Our Pirates on the land have sundry kinds,  
And sundry objects. Our goods, bodies, minds.  
Law-state-Church Pirates, when no Church, state, law,  
Can their irregular lives to fashion draw.   

The first pretending government of all,  
And freeing such as into danger fall;  
Do kill in curing, and oppress with easing  
Both the delinquent, and the free displeasing.   

The second guard our land from foreign force,  
Whilst they themselves (perhaps) afflict us worse.  
Stranger's may not devour us, yet we are  
By peace eat up, more than we want by war.   

The third are of two kinds; our own and others,  
Who not in doctrine, but in fact are brothers.   

Our own feed few (for the dumb dog still lurches)  
They'll not teach one, but swallow many Churches:  
They unto ignorance our souls betray;  
And to seducing devils give silent way.   

The other knows, no king, but knows their subjects,  
And feigns to reconcile, but make them abjects.  
No place is privileged, no law, no Nation:  
For all the world his parish is and station.  
Rome gives him licence, and although he swim  
In the whole sea, there is no room for him.  
He cries where s'ere he comes; all's mine, give room;  
And if it be oppos'de a fatal doom  
Becomes his usher. King's must kiss his foot,  
If curses, pistols, poison, hell can do't;  
But if nor these, nor hell, then Faux more skilful  
Will charm the open earth, blow up the wilful.  
These Cormorants my bleare-eyde Muse hath spied:  
But there are many Cormorauts beside.   
If any man seek a true body for this shadow, let him read Commines his fourth book; where he shall see Lewis of Luxe●b●rgh Earl of S. Paul & Constable of France, playing the right part of Onocrotalus with Le●is the XI. King of France (shadowed by the Eagle● because he over-sored the other Princes in wisdom and policy, and because that kingdom hath been honoured with ●he Imperial crown and arms) As also with the King of England Ed●ard the fourth shadowed by the Lion (both in regard the Lion is part of the Arms of England, and for that the said King was a most valiant Prince, having been personally present in nine set battles, and remaining Conqueror in all. And lastly with Charles Duke of Burgu●die, shadowed by the Whale (both in regard he was strong by Sea, as also for that he was terrible and cumbersome to all his neighbour Princes) If any seek farther they seek without me, and must be their own guides.    

The ASS.  
DEDICATED. TO THE LEARNED and judicious KNIGHT Sr. HAMOND LE-STRANGE. 
Pol. Virg. lib. 1 c. 19 de invent. rer▪   
Some beasts are ominous some birds are so,  
But Massolanus and ●our self say no.  
He slew the Augurs bird● My ●illy Ass.  
May ●o a wiseman without peril pass.  

ALthough in ●taly, in France, and Spain, 
Asinus est● animal maxim● frigoris● impatiens. Plin. lib. 8. cap. 4●   
And all those hotter Regions, there remain  
Great store of Asses? and with us but few,  
Save some that our late Travellers do show.  
And though the Pope and Roman Clergy ride  
In every lowly, patient, humble pride  
Upon these beasts, or on their bastards rather,  
As fits each single, simple, holy father.  
I would not have you think my meaning such  
A beast of theirs or of our own to touch.   

The Ass I talk of, bred in Thess●ly  
Came to a country man, a neighbour by  
And made great moan, that every savage beast  
In woods and fields, the greatest and the least  
Misus de him, wronged him, made it all their sport  
To trouble him, who had no remedy for't.  
The Man seemed pitiful, inclined to good,  
And gave the Ass advice to leave the wood,  
To dwell with him who able was and strong,  
His weak Retainers to protect from wrong.  
True (quoth the Ass) your wit, your strength I know,  
But how can I deserve the grace and show?  
What benefit or pleasure whilst I live  
Can I do you, who must my livelyhoood give?  
Quoth Man, for my protection, and my meat  
You shall afford me but your dung and sweat,  
Those excrements t'enrich and lust my ground,  
That it with corn and vintage may abound.  
And when I chance to travel far and nigh,  
You like a friend, shall bear me company.  
The Ass was glad the covenants were so good,  
And strait agrees, nor long consulting stood.  
The articles were drawnet read openly,  
Sealed and delivered interchangeable.  
And homethey go, and long together dwelled  
Without repentance; neither grievance felt.  
But man in innocence remained not long,  
And since is apt to do all innocence wrong.  
Sure here it fell out so. The crafty Man  
Woe say and unsay, lie, and cavil can,  
Went to the Ass, and (all enraged) demands?  
Why all that while he had not dunged his lands?  
Sir (quoth the Ass) such compass as I yield  
I have with daily care laid in your field.  
True (quoth the Man) but that will not suffice  
To dung my ground, that plenty may arise;  
Yet so you undertook. Then out of hand  
See you provide enough to serve my land.  
And yield what you keep back good store of sweat 
Tria● ver● cum sint● opus, cibus. & cast●gatio. etc. Arist. Oeconomic lib. cap. ●.   
Or I'll give store of blows, but not of meat.  
The Ass finds he is wronged, but sees not how  
To right himself; weak men to stronger bow.  
He does what man commands, and rather more  
Till Man grows rich, and so grows proud, with store.  
Then man must travail, must his kinsfolk see  
And other countries how they fashioned be.  
The Ass must go with him, so 'twas agreed  
To bear him company. Well mote they speed,  
The Man a saddle sets upon his back,  
A hal●er on his head, which wit doth lack.  
What mean you master (quoth the simple Ass)  
These will but make me weary as I pass?  
Fool (quoth the Man) think you i'll have my Page●  
Not suited to the fashions of this age?  
I should be shamed to s●e you near me stand,  
Without a cloak, and 'bout your neck a band.  
Proud was the silly Ass, to hear he stood  
So high in favour, and doth onward skud  
With willing pace, not like a sleepy snail,  
But tossing of his ears, wenching his tail.  
Long travailed they, till to a brook they came,  
Wherein a many silver fishes swum.  
A bridge was n●●re, but Man withheld his eye,  
And would not see the bridge, some reason why.  
The Ass went through the water: quoth he then,  
All beasts are far more happier than all Men.  
You are by nature safely clothed, and armed,  
'Gainst cold, heat, drought, and wet; we easily harmed  
With any small annoyance. You are free,  
And 'gainst all these extremes must patient be.  
The Ass being praised, upon no ground stood still,  
But must turn back again to show his skill,  
To boast his valour, let his Master know  
All his good parts, and services a-row.  
Now sir, quoth he, you on my back I'll bear,  
Safe o'er this water● G●t up, nothing fear●.  
The Man leapt lightly up. Dissimulation  
" Doth neither stirrup n●●d, nor great persuasion.  
The Ass doth quickly pass the Ri●er. Then  
He stays, and prays him light. No, (s●ith the Man)  
Proceed upon your journey you can bear,  
I dare not light, to fall I stand in fear●.  
I'll kneel then (quoth the Ass) and down he knelt,  
The Man strait raised him with his whip and heels.  
O Master (quoth the Ass●● you promised meat,  
You● cou●nant gives no liberty to b●at.  
●oole (quoth the Man) the word expressly meant,  
Wages for work implies a punishment  
For sluggishness and sloth; make haste away,  
Our business and the time permits no stay.  
So on they go, till the Ass now almost tired,  
Asked pity of the Man, and ease desired,  
Th●t the would deign a little while to light.  
The Man denied it, and then laughed outright.  
And doubled blows with whip, with heel, & staff. 
Verberās● absque ira peior, est verberā●e cum ●ra● Com. in Arist● 1. 6. Metaph.   
O tyrant (quoth the Ass) dost fight and laugh?  
Are these th' effects of promises and words?  
Is this the peace your law, bond, faith, affords?  
Keep you your covenants thus? O man think how  
You make us traitors, when you, break your vow.  
Why (quoth the Man) my covenants are unbroke,  
I have performed whatsere I wrote or spoke.  
I give you meat, my meaning likewise was,  
To give you blows, if that you played the Ass.  
I was to have your excrements and sweat.  
I cannot have those but by work and heat,  
Therefore I ride you. You were to attend  
In all my journeys on me like a friend.  
And what is liker to a friend I pray,  
Then a man's drudge, that toils both night & day?  
That carries him through thick and thin with pain,  
And a sure stud for all turns doth remaine●  
O (quoth the Ass●) the world was never good,  
Since other on mental reservation stood.  
I only was to bear you company,  
True (quoth the Man) to bear, that's carry me.  
O damned equivocation, who at first,  
(quoth the poor Ass) this double Doctrine nursed?  
No Merchant, Trades-man, Lawyer, nor Divine,  
Though much from truth they warp, from grace decline,  
Could be the author's of this ample evil,  
But truth's professed foe, that juggling devil. 
You be ●s Gods knowing good ●u evil.   
That Devil who taught it first, and practised too,  
In paridise, unto our general woe.  
That Devil which doth renew in every age,  
By this alone his kingdom and image.  
For without this his kingdom would decay,  
And without this his image wear away.  
This only murder's truth, opposeth faith,  
Deceiving, whether true or false it saith.  
If true we dare not trust it fearing ill.  
If false, like truth it looks, and tempts us will.  
Quoth Man, thou preachest well; and well mightst pass  
Couldst thou speak Latin too, to say a Mass.  
Thy folly was in fault rashly to draw,  
Thy articles without advice at law.  

●hat is a comnon cas●.  There wanted stops, pricks, letters, here and there,  
And by your leave some words the truth to clear.  
Nay quoth the Ass, had every word, stop, letter,  
Been left unwritten my estate were better.  
This is the plague, when power expoundeth laws  
Not as the truth requires, but as the cause.  
When every letter may an error breed,  
To help the rich, and beggar such as need.  
When tyrants do capitulate and treat  
Not to conclude, but to deceive and cheat.  
When your false minds are candi'de over with words  
As your gay sheaths conceal your bloody swords.  
Now (quoth the Man) I think that Balaams' Ass,  
Or golden Apuly's, thy Tutor was.  
Thou art so eloquent, so learned, witty,  
As if thou hadst been taught in Athens City.  
In Athens? (quoth the Ass) now I espy,  
You speak no truth, but when ye think to lie.  
I was a Cockny once, of noble blood,  
Trained up in Athens Court, and in the flood  
of pleasure, bathed my youth, (but not in Art,)  
Which caused this transformation, tears, and smart.  
Yet went our Master, and was well allowde●  
(With many of my kin) in that thick crowd,  
When Philip did so learnedly dispute,  
And made Demost ●enes with wonder mute.  
I was in favour then, and then did pass,  
For brave and wise, though now I be an Ass.  
For no Man ought to judge by form, or face,  
By favour, or employment, or by place,  
Which are the wise and foolish. Dunces oft  
●Passe by great doctors. Baboons leap aloft.  
And they may prove like me, (li●e to be switcht,)  
If they my fortune meet, to be bewitched.  
How I bewitched was, you now shall hear.   

There is no true accomplished Cavalere,  
That hath not travailed. And there's few of these,  
Which scape bewitching, passing over Seas.  
When I first travailed, my brave Spirit did move,  
T'attempt great Ladies and to purchase love.  
I purcha'st love so long, till all I had,  
Was purcha'st from me, and myself full glad,  
To leave both Court and City, and to try,  
A better Country fortune to espy.  
With much much toil, and many courtly shifts,  
At length I did arrive 'mongst craggy cliffs,  
And barren rocks, t'a smoky house which stood  
Alone, besides a fearful desert wood.  
There with a withered witch I long time stayed,  
A Beldame that had been Mede●es maid.  
She turned me to an Ass that very day,  
Th' Odcombian wit, did oddly scape away,  
He may his good shoes praise, pray for his heels,  
By those he scap't. And yet I fear he feels,  
His brain, was turning, if he ever pass  
That way again, he will turn perfect Ass.  
And so will many more as well as I,  
Except they stop their ears, as they pass by.  
No (quoth the Man) this is a pretty fable,  
Fitting the end, so near unto the stable.  
I'll now alight, we two are perfect friends,  
My journey and thy tale together ends.  
So they went in to rest, but ever since,  
The Man mounts on the Ass, although he wince.  
There is no remedy, and he must obey,  
That's saddled, bridelled, and bound every way.  
He might have looked before he made his match:  
Now ti's too late, when time was past to watch.  

Aquas transire & pedes in eyes figere multum horret. Ari. 5. de Animal.  Yet ever since he letters hates and learning,  
When there's no fault in them, but his discerning.  
He shuneth water too, all that he can,  
The cause which made him first a slave to Man.   

Epimythium.  
We must learn from hence these lessons.  
1. 
Eccles. 8. 13.  First to beware with whom we deal: for if he be stronger either in person, or by friends, we shall become his prey: if he be richer, high gold will weigh dow one silver: if he be more eloquent, his lies will be belecued before our truths: if he be the judge, he will give sentence according to his honour, or at least according to his own profit. This is seen by general experience, and especially in that man of sin, who pretends to judge of all controversies, and expounder of all doubts; d●termin●s the darkest things to be clear in his own behalves; and the most clecre and pregnant proofs brought against him, to be dark and obscure.  
2. Secondly, we must beware of whom we take counsel; they may be our enemies to morrow, that are our friends to day; we often show our evidences to such, who for a larger free given by our adversaries, know how to betray us, and open a gap for the overthrow of our cause.  
3. Thirdly, to whom we slay for protection from wrongs, lest shunning the Buzzard, we become a prey of the Sparhauke. Many poor men are swallowed in this pitfall: we make laws to tie our own wings. So much of every act is taken as will screw for lime-twigs to take us; the rest which should reform, lies use less. We receive strength into a town, which being once in possession, hold for themselves, and plague us worse the than enemies would have done. So the Brittai●es (our fellows) called in the S●x●ns (our fathers) and all histories are full of like examples. We●el might the last year have looked into this glass, now it is too late. The hand which holds it, hath practised the Falconers first proverb in many places before. It knows how to hold fast: and knows no other honour, but profit. But C●llis was wiser, who would rather yield itself to the Archduke then expect proffered deliverance by us. The French durst not let us have footing again in France, we had taught them too well before how hardly we are entreated to let go our hold in so good a Country. Let this then teach us to beware.  
4. Fourthly, let us take heed to whom we give And what we give. A talon is too much for a Cynic to receive; a groat too little for a King to give: discretion must guide liberality. Many bounties have miscarried, and been lost, undoing both the giver and receiver, whilst they were not proportioned according to the worth and respect of both parties. Our age may look in this glass. Who gives some the first penny, gives him earnest money to beg still, encouraging rather then relieving. Give such the whip. We often give presents to our betters, & they expect the custom still: power demands that of duty, which was first granted by way of bencuolence.  
Lastly let us beware what we receive from others and what we put on. It may be a saddle, which we think an ornament, and a bridle which we think a 
Ca●den. Hist Antiq. Ir●●.  grace. divers foreign overtures show this, and at home the inu●stitures of Ireland, made by the Pope to Henry the second whereby that Sea challengeth right in Ireland. All other titles and prerogatiues●which come from thence, are of this nature; and were sent to this end, to be witnesses of their interest. Doubtless the Devil pretends thus to be author of our 
G●●. ●. 5.  knowledge; & saith but for him we had never known good and evil asunder. Our laws and privileges written in the Norm●n● tongue are evidences to prove our subjection to William of Norm●ndy; as the universal speech of the Latin proved the world's slavery to Rome, though none were thought free men, and brave fellows, but such slaves as spoke that tongue; the rest Barbarious. Merchant's will trust us to draw us into their bookes; they bridle and saddle us with gay clothes, (like foot-cloths to Asses;) then they girt us up sure, and mount our backs, whilst we can walk free in no ground, not in the streets. Our stable is the Counter, where we are mad● right Asses: Hither many Courtly Gallants make haste to come, and to stand at livery in the HOLE.    

CURIALE.  
DEDICATED TO the good acceptance of Master FLYODE, Admiral to the Queen's Majesty, and of her Counsel.  
The Court from Flies and fleas you cannot free,  
Whilst such sweet meats, good fires, soft beds there be:  
Yet guard your eyes and ears well, for we know,  
Princes both hear and see by such as you.  

THe Fly and Flea having in Court got place,  
Saw all such Courtiers as were chief in grace.  
Still present with the King: how in his ear  
For being busy, some rewarded were:  
Others they saw get wealth with standing nigh:  
But none did thrive that were not in his Eye.  
They thought since these alone grew rich and brave,  
They would as nimbly too themselves behave.  
●hat they were black could be no hindrance thought,  
●or many black gowns their preferment sought.  
●ut their ambition reached t'engross all grace,  
●nd shoulder others from so wished a place●  
●nd thus resolved, the Flea leaps up alo●t,  
●nd in the King's ear falls with footing soft.  
●he foolish Fly did mount with speedy wing  
betwixt the Eyelids of th' amazed King;  
●ho with his nimble hand did apprehend  
●he rustic Courtiers, and their hopes soon end.  
Quoth he, Ye saucy Traitors, Dare ye thus  
presume our presence never called by us?  
Or being come, Is there no other place  
●n all our Court to please you, but our face?  
And in our face no room can you espy,  
●ut our reserved ●are? our tender eye?  
●n all my kingdoms you might freely range,  
And varied pleasures every minute change  
Without my perturbation: only here  
Your boldness you shall both with life buy dear.  
And though the Eagle takes no Fleaes nor Flies  
Y●t for presumption both by th' Eagle dies.   

Epimythium.  
THis tells inferiors that they must not aspire too 
Principatu● virum o●tendit. Ari●t. l. 5. Metaphys. Tacit● Hist● lib. 1. cap. 7.  high, nor presume too far●e. All persons are not ●it for all places: fools mistake, and overdo; wise-men warm themselves at the fire, where children turn their fingers: many seeking to be in grace, disgrace themselves. None was thought fitter to be Emperor then Galba, till being made Emperor he proved himself unfit. Or age hath seen many of these Babel's, whose ruins seem greater far of● then at hand. In a dark night each Mete●r, each I gnis fatuus seems a Sun; but the day, coming near the Sun, they cannot be seen. There be many ofthese, who if they had not attained preferment, would have thought themselves wronged, and the world would have thought them unfortunate; as if envy had crossed honour from beholding them with equivalence: when now having attained what their ambitions desire, they see their own insufficiencies, and the world judging them unworthy of such eminence, say they serve for nothing but to keep out better Men. Their high flight rather helped by the winds strength, (by favour and grace) then by their own wings (virtue and true worth,) serves only to show the world it's own blindness, and their weakness; for being aloft in the top and pride of their pitch, they make many plains, and dare not come freely at all occasions; but they soon stoop to the lure of the dead quarry, having good stomaches, but bad hearts; what they speak, what they do, as not out of their own strength and sufficiency, but from others direction. They are french soldiers and Statesmen; their horses, their servants must be Knighted, for these did the service; It was not the Rider, his care was only to keep the saddle warm and to sit sure.  
Again, it tells Superiors that the poorest and 
Exod. 8● 17  most despised creatures may annoy them. Lice presume into ●●araohs bed-chamer, in spite of the Guard, the Ushers, and Pensioners, the Squires of the body, the Gentleman, and the Grooms; where none durst come before but Minions and Favourites. Worms crawl into Herod's womb, even then when his flatterers 
Act● 12 23.  and all the people cry out, vox De● & non hom●nis. He spoke well but he did nothing: he used eloquence and learning to his own glory not to Hands: God therefore showed him that he was a worm and no man, who a little befote did both in place and 
Psal. 82. ●.  voice show himself like a god. A ●lie skips into Pope Alexander's cup and into his throat and kills him, who a little before challenged to have the keys of life and death in his hands, and with his cup of abominati on's poisoned not only the poor flies (the subjects) but 
Reu. 17. 2. Iudg● cap. 4. 17. cap. 9 53. Gra●ton.  the Eagles (the kings) of the earth. Despise not therefore little ones. Remember how Sisera and Abimelech fell by the hand of women. And Sigebert king of the Westsaxons was slain by a swineherd of Combra●●s, even in that place where Sigebert had slain Combranus before, for the good and wholesome counsel he gave the unthankful King.    

SOLARIUM.  
DEDICATED. To the absolute and open enemies of Ignorance and Darkness, and the true Lovers and Followers of Light and Knowledge, Sr. john Crofts and his happy LADY.  
THe Clock that chim'de your praise, went right for still  
The Dial ruled his tongue the Sun his Will.  
And as these led him right, you follow may,  
To heavenly glory, through the Milk-white-way.  

IN some part of the World, I know not where,  
But sure S●. Thomas Mard●uile was there.  
Betwixt a Clock and a Sunne-dyall fell  
A difference which I with sorrow tell.  
With sorrow, for this error calls to mind  
Th' uncertainty, which we in Story find;  
Where computations cross, and make us doubt 
Cambden in his Brit. Alluding to the ages of the church. 1. The Prin●●tiue, by ●●ason of outwards persecution, being obscure. 2. The second under the Spiritual persecution of Antichrist, being fabulous. 3. The third being our Age, where Controversies are tried by the clear Sunshine of God's Word, and so certain and Historical. Pol. Virg. Rer. ●nuen. Cap. 14. lib. 1.   
Of what we all seek, cannot one find out.  
How to agree, and reconcile th' obscure,  
The fabulous, and curtains Age of our.  
The Age obscure; is that before the Flood:  
The Fabulous, on feigned Wonders stood  
The race of gods, on gold●n Legends told,  
Where for sad truths, mad ●ictions were enrolled.  
This latter Age more plain and clear, we call  
The certain Age, or th' Age Historical.  
Yet hours, and day's, and years have sure been lost  
In some of these, which our accounts have crossed.  
And so they easily might, when from the Sun  
To lying Clocks for our accounts we run.   

This tale makes all apparent, or at least,  
Makes probable, what some have thought a jest.  
Within a Churchyard once a Dial stood  
Upon a square hewed Marble, which the Flood  
In vain with envious waves had often sought  
To spoil, when it the whole world under brought.  
But Seth's wise sons had fastened it so sure,  
It could all stormes● and stre●●e of times endure.  
And thereon they had carved the Art, and lore  
They learned of their Grandsire long before●   

Upon a Church or steeples side near hand  
A goodly Clock of curious work did stand;  
Which over paysde with lead or out of frame,  
Did time miscall, and every hour misname.  
Th● Dial hearing this, aloud 'gan cry  
Kind neighbour Clock your glib tongue tells a lie.  
Reform your error, for my Gnomon●aith ●aith  
You gad too fast, and miss an hour's faith.   

Fool (quoth the Clock) reform thyself by me,  
The fault may rather in thy Gnomon be.  
Hadst thou told ever truth, to what end then  
Was I placed here, by th' art of cunning Men?   

The weathercock upon the steeple standing  
And with his sharp eye all about commanding,  
Herd their contention, wiled them to appeal  

Motus ●raec●d●t e●pus ●aturali●er, & Tempus consequi●u● mot●m. A●ist. Physic. lib. 4. Causatur autem motus primo & princ●pal●ter à circumuolutione Coel●. A●ist. Motus est transitus à termino ad terminum. Tem●us ●st re●um mu●abilium men●u●●. A●ist.  To him the Chief of all that Commonweal.  
Told them that he was set to Oversee  
And to appease, to guide and to agree  
All difference in that place; and whatsoever  
He setteth down from justice cannot err.  
For from the wind he information takes  
Which searcheth through the world, & swiftly make●  
A true survey of every proof and cause,  
And doth of Reason know the ground, and laws.  
He bids them boldly speak, and bring their pleas,  
And he'll define th' infallible truth with ease.   

The Dial than begins. The globe-like world  
From Centre to circumference being whorled  
In never-resting motion, maketh ●ime  
In sundry revolutions fall and climb.  
This Time the measure of all mutable things  
Comes with lead-heeles, flies hence with fiery wings;  
Sleeps with two eyes, hath two eyes ever waking,  
'twixt minutes, hours, days, nights, distinction making  
And though the difference and degrees of change,  
In several years, be wonderful and strange;  
Some by the Moon, some reckoning by the Sun,  
And some the great year, when th' heavens having ru●  
Their complete course, do to that point arrive  
Whence the first mover, them did motion give;  
Yet the most general certain count of all 
Vigila● tempus cum dormire videtur: dumque vigilat s●mul dormire Idem. que cum si● stit, volat; & cum volat, consistit. Vince Chartarius. Sunt anno●um diversa genera. 1. Annus Lunaris. 2. Annus Solarus. 3. Annus Magnus.   
Is measured by the Sun, whose rise and fall  
Makes day, and night, and noon, and midnight too,  
Spring, Summer, Winter, Autumn, and the two  
Solsticiums', Equinoctials, and the hours  
Now naked, and then decked in gaudy flowers.  
This Adam to his Grandsons having told,  
With other Arts, and wonders manifold,  
How all the world both fire and flood should try;  
They placed me here, to tell posterity  
Such hidden mysteries; And to direct  
The wiser Souls deep-diving intellect.  
About me they have graved seven liberal Arts,  
The Sciences, with their diviner parts,  
A circle and a Gnomon set above  
With Characters; which as the Sun doth move  
In his ascent, or low declension, tells  
The certain hour, degree, and all things else.  
But for my speech was slow, and cause the Sun  
Did often under clouds for pleasure run,  
Succeeding ages did this Clock out find  
T'attend on me, and to declare my mind,  
From me intelligence and rules ro gather 
Persecutions are l●ke clouds and storms, which benight the Gospels The Morning is deliverance from e●●o●.   
To measure night, close storms, and cloudy weather:  
And in the Morn, finding his reckoning wrong,  
By my strait rule, to tune and set his song.  
But this forgetful Clock at random strikes,  
Not as I bid, but fond what it likes:  
Robs short-lived Man of his most precious time,  
And orderless, doth others orders chime.  
It will not follow me, but wanting wit,  
Would have the Sun and Me to wait on it.  

and darkness by the Gospel; which obtains free passage, and clears and reforms the abuses of superstitious times.  This matter so apparent, though I might  
Wild Weathercock, except against your right  
To judge, and think you partial at the least,  
Since you o're-cloude me when the Sun comes West,  
And will take part with it, that's in the name,  
In nature, and in sight, almost the same  
With you; yet know I'l● not refuse  
Thy censure, but high place with honour use.   

Thus did the Dyal end, and then the Clock  
Low-louting to the powder Wether- Cock,  
Began his plea. Thou mighty Sovereign  
Which dost the universal ●udge remain  
In all those places, where thy piercing eye  
Can see, or my shrill voice be he●rd to cry.  
Behold this impudent, poor, neglected post  
How it 'gainst me, and 'gainst thy sta●● doth boast  
Embasingthy great worth, neglecting mine;  
As if the glorious Sun did n●uer shine,  
Nor his sweet influence on us l●t fall,  
But that the Dial had engrossed up all.  
When all the world knows thou were't placed there  
The sleepy Hind● up to his work to rear,  

Pausanias' ●cribit Grae eos gallu●● generatos e●●e, ut Apollini sacrum; Is enim ca●tu mane ●olis adventum anuncia● Vin. Cha●●.  To call the Scholar to his book, and wake  
The The●●e which at thy shrill voice 'gins to shake.  
Thou art the cheerful day's Ambassador,  
In whose praise once these lines composed were.   

A crowned King, a complete Knight,  
An armed Captain, fit to fight,  
A plumed Courtier, fairly clad,  
A lover that was never sad,  
A Trumpeters the house wife's Mate,  
Who riseth early, sleepeth late,  
A Chorister, the poor man's Clock,  
All this is our great Weathercock.   

This sacred Anthem all the world doth sing●  
To thee the Sun's bird, ●ho doth tidings bring,  
O● his approach and rising: as for me  
I here was seated, next thee in degree  
To give thee ease, to tell the wondering people  
What thou discouer'st from that lo●tie steeple,  
The whilst thou keep'st thy voice from ●ub●les,  
And art for silence honoured with large fees.  
The Dial is my ward, first placed there  
That Common Persons who presume not near  
Thy hallowed thron●, may have intelligence  
And learn from me the close and hidden sense  
Of all those Characters, and not expound  
As list themselves, dark riddles, so profound:  
Nor contradict, nor yet correct by force,  
According to the Gnomon, my true course;  
But the false Gnomon rather to correct  
By my advice, whose way is still direct.  
Who knows not, that the Sun in his round race,  
Many degrees is gone from his first place,  
And like a drunkard reeling to and fro,  
With giddy steps doth shift his circle so;  
That where he was even now, he comes no more,  
His course is all confused, behin'ds before?  
Needs must the Dial then deceived be,  
Which trusts a Guide that doth so disagree  
Within itself, and without judgement shines  
Alike on all, making of fools Divines.  
And teaching Fishermen to see as far,  
As learned Shepherds, without other star.  
Too common in this Guide, to guide aright;  
Or if he could, where is the Guide for night?  
I then am present still at every need  
Poor erring man, in ignorant night to lead.  
Then why should this bold Dial, dare to speak  
Against my greatness, or the orders break  
Of custom and consent? since all make choice  
To feed, fast, pray, or play, led by my voice?  
And that all bargains made, all wagers laid,  
Not by the Dial but the Clock are paid?  
Which truth, whilst all the world dare never doubt,  
This Dial seems to question, and (grown stout)  
Exc●pts against thy judgement too, that thus  
He might be free and seem to govern us.  
But since our causes are so near of kin,  
Let that respect some grace and favour win  
With thy high holiness, that thou mayst see  
To give just sentence for yourself and me.   

The weathercock thrice turned himself about,  
As taking care to mind the matter out;  
And thrice returned, as if he were as free  
From prejudice, as from integrity.  
Then thrice he claps his wings (which courage shows)  
And thrice aloud his senseless sentence crows.   

To give a reason, wherefore, how, and what,  
When, where, by whom, or fond this or that,  
Might argue reference to higher power;  
But what is he whose place doth equal our?  
We are the rule of reason, truths clear law.  
Hear then with reverence, and obey with awe.  
Without more question, argument, or trial,  
The judgement I pronounce against the Dial.  
The Dial shall be guided by the Clock●  
This is the sentence of the weather- Cock.  
Which when the Cl●ck had heard (puftup withp●ide)  
He gins the wronged Dial to deride;  
And sits his tongue at large, too much, too soon;  
Twelve times he fetched his breath, & laughed out none.   

The Dial then with indignation moved  
By this invective speech their fault reproved.  
Poor silly Clock (quoth he) rejoice thy ●ill,  
Time will reform thy ignorant zeal with s●ill,  
Stay thy distempered course, which hurried now,  
By mad-braind humour, goes it knows not how.  
Time that's my pupil, shall thy Tutor be,  
And teach a difference 'twixt thyself and me;  
Then thou wilt know thy error, and recant  
That ever thou wert proud of so much want.  
But as for thee (thou judge corrupt and base,  
Who bindest all knowledge Prentice to thy place)  
Know this, th' allseeing Sun thy folly knows,  
And to each vulgar eye thy shadow shows,  
That they may plainly see how poor thou at  
Thy head deformed, defective every part.  
And that those high prerogatines of state  
You challenge proper to yourself, are late  
Upstart intrusions, usurpations new;  
Forged by the force or flattery of some few.  
The promise which you boast, to have the wind  
Blow where you list, and alte● when you mind,  
Is false, and foolish; but 'twas promised still  
To blow and guide you right, if that you will.  
And so it doth, so it doth others too,  
If they consent, not whether they will or no.  
For when they would the point and quarter know  
Where it doth breath, on me they look; I show  
The truth to them and thee, if you look right,  
If not, you are misled by your own sight.  
But how canst thou others from error keep  
When as thyself folded in error deep,  
Shun'st reformation, and wilt neither mind,  
My grave directions, nor the powerful wind?   

I can remember, long before thou Wert  
When wise Alcedo stood where as thou art.  
He calmed all storms, and pacified the wind  
To patient sufferance, bend his humble mind.  
He to the fisher, and the Seaman gave  
Directions, how their storme-tost bark to save.  
When by the Lee-shore, when to launch the Main,  
And when to lie at Hull, when to remain  
In harbour Anchor-fast, and when to sail  
With a full wind, and when again to veil:  
How, where and when, to cast their nets, and lay  
Their hidden hooks, where all the skull do play.  
Some of each kind, yet at each corner stand,  
Who still love truth; in spite of thy command:  
Their heads look south, because the wind blows there,  
Thy tail stands south, thy head the wind doth feare●  
Ill might he fare that in Alcedos place,  
Set thee, who springest from a bloody rac●.  
His error, and thy pedigree behold  
As it in ancient story is inrould.   


●hocas.  A traitorous Slave, his Master having slain  
Did sole Commander of the world remain.  

Luk. 22. 〈◊〉.  But whilst he slept; a chicken of that Cock  
Which Cephas checked when he denied the rock,  
And forced him to repent, to sigh, and weep,  
Did with his voice the murderer wake from sleep,  
And would not suffer him to rest in sin,  
But he would rouse his conscience still within  
This Murderer, a Cock of kind did get,  
And him to kill this kinder Cock did set,  
Who soon performed the task he took in hand:  
For chantecleer would ●uffer, not withstand.  
He watchful was and tended his vocation,  
To stir up others to their occupation:  
He loved the pearl more than the barley corn;  
To crow, and not to quarrel he was borne.  
So he was slama, and slain by one of those  
From whence thy proud succession strangely rose  
Who hight Alectrion, and while-ere had been  
The Pander unto Mars and Venus sin, 
Luc●an.   
And then (being Captain of great Mars his guard),  
Stood Sentinel, and kept both watch and ward,  
For fear that Phoebus all discovering eye,  
Should them unwares at their stolen pleasure spy.  
But ouert'ane with sleep, he did not wake  
Till Vulcan's net did both the lechers take;  
For which the angry God (inrag●d and mad)  
His sleeping soldier, all in feathers clad,  
His sword turned spurs, himself a Cock of kind,  
His arms and body changed, but not his mind;  
That's bloody still, and too far prone to sight  
Without respect of persons, cause, or right.  
Els● would he ne'er have been so mad to kill,  
A harmless Cock, who had no thought of ill.  

Pholas ha●ing slain Mauritiu● ga●● the title of universal Bishop to Boniface then Bishop of Rome. The Crosse● Omnia haec tibi d●bo. Math. 4. 9●  But him he falsely slew, and having ●●aine  
Did for this murder, of a murderer gain  
Too great preferment, to be set up here  
In triumph t'ouersee all, far and near;  
To be ador'de with universal praise  
And triple crowned with Olive, Oak, and Bays.   

Him thou succeed'st both in thy mind and place,  
An armed Champion, of that iron race,  
A Soldier, none of his whose badge thou bearest;  
But rather one of his whose crown thou wear'st;  
Thy narrow heels are sharp, thy tongue is short:  
To prey, and not to prayer fit t'exhort.  
Thou wilt not crow to ro●se the world from sleep,  
But with thy silent charms, it drunken keep.  

Servus Seruorum.  When thou most servant-like thy head dost bear  
Down to the ground, than Cocks their crowns ma● fear.  
Thou seekest a feigned quarrel then to pick,  
And wilt with both wings mount, with both heels strick●  
At every feather come, stab either spur  
Up to the hilts; and furiously bestir  
Thy ready parts, t'attain thy bloody end,  
And all the world to thy own scope to bend.  
Thou trumpet'st wars and curses over all,  
And ouer-c●owes, but wilt not crow to call  
Thyself and others of thy rank, and place,  

Culpas huius redarguere prae●umit mor●●lium nullus●  From looking on the Earth, to view the f●ce  
Of the all-searching Sun, and by his light  
To measure truly what is wrong and right.  
The Cock is killed that Peter cause the to weep,  
Th● Petrean Pastor now may safely sleep.  
●leepe though he hath denied his master too;  
●or none t●admonish him hath aught to do.  
Craven awake, behold how I deride  
●●y mutability, thy sloth, thy pride,  
●●ou standest where he stood who claimed all the world, 
Diabolus st●tit super pinnas Templi. Math. 4. 5.   
●●d shalt with him from that steep height be hurled.  
●bout thy head each prating bird that perks,  
●a●e take the name and place of learned Clerks,  
And vn●o royal Eagles offer laws,  
when each eye sees, they are but jangling daws.  
And though all Lions in the desert fear,  
And crouch, when they thy crowing voice do hearer  
Our Lion scorns thee, when he hears thee crow;  
And with his ●oaring voice the world doth show,  
How poor thou art, how cowardly, how weak,  
Who shak'st & tremblest when thou hearest him speak.  
And yet how proud art thou, t'usurp a place  
Of judgement over me, in this dark case,  
And to prefer the Clock for want of wit,  
When I should be the judge of thee and it?   

The Sexton comes, he'll mend all this anon.  
With that the angry Clock in rage struck one.  
The Sexton came indeed, and one did tell,  
Looked on the Dial, saw all was not well.  
For that said twelve, the Clock said one and past.  
He took the weights off, which caused too much haste,  
Surveyed the wheels, for there the fault might be,  
And found some cog supply the place of three.  
Some wheels were taken off, and borne to Court,  
To trundle up and down, and there make sport.  
And some with dust, and rust, were dulled and foiled,  
And some stood useless, so the Clock was spoilt.   

Which to reform, he mends the wheels forthwith  
Files, oils, and beats them throughly on a stith:  
Makes weights and wyere fit, then by the Sun  
Sets the new course, which it doth truly run.  
Then going up the steeples top he spies  
The weathercock how palpably it lies.  
For at each Corner the Kings-fishers stood,  
Full South; and that the Dial proved good.  
But the fond Weathercock (being weather-wise)  
From the Calm blast turned his scornful eyes.  
The Sexton took him down, and strait did see  
An easy way how he might mended be,  
His head was too too great, with 3. combs crowned  
Which ever when the wind blew turned him round.  
His tail was too too weak, when every feather  
Was bend with storms, and broken with the weather  
The Sexton cut his crowns, and gave more sail  
With them and with the spurs unto his tail  
So humbled now in habit, look and mind,  
He waits with due obedience on the wind:  
Knows his high place was not to rule, but serve,  
And means no more from this strict course to swerue●   


Epimythium. Prin●ipium plus ●st quam dimidium totius. Ari●t. ●. 5. Pol. 2. King. 9 32.  This tale no mortal needs, it is not dark,  
But points a work fit for our learned Clerk  
Who by the Dyal may reform the Clock,  
And by king's fishers turn the Weathercock.  
We have the wind to help us and the Sun,  
And works are half accomplished when begun.  
Then who'll begin? who is on our side, who?  
Where words, wind, writings fail, resolve to Do.   
I had thought this Tale should have needed no other ●ongue then it's own to be rightly understood. But because I see it too misty for some apprehensions, whose wills are as desirous as others to know truth, I have added this by way of illustration to enlighten such as accept well of my good meaning, which is to inform others according to that which I have received, and to be reform where I err myself.  
1. First the teaching part of the militant Church, which consists of the Clergy, I have veiled under the Cl●cke●. The wheels are the distinct degrees and offices they en●oy of superiority, and inferiority; wherein the Harmony of the whole consisteth. The weights are the privileges, immunities, prerogatives and donations of several kinds, bestowed upon the Church in several ages, by good Kings, liberal professors and benefactors. The challenge the Clock seems to make here to rule the Dyal, resembleth the controversy the Church of Rome raiseth in the Catholic Church about the exposition, the restraining or publishing of the Scriptures.  
2. The Dyal is the written word, which is of itself dead and unprofitable, without farther illumination. Since none of the Philosophers, nor Solomon himself by the me●re strength of Nature, could from thence draw saving knowledge, without saving grace. But as the Dyal hath reference to the Sun; so hath this to the Son of righteousness. Neither am I without warrant for using this bold Allegory, since the sweet 
Psal. ●16. v. 105.  Singer of Israel compares the same word to a lantern, and the spirit to a light, when he saith elegantly, and like a Divine POET, Thy word is a lantern unto my feet, and a light unto my path.  
Now as it is absurd that the Dyal should be set by the uncertain gadding of the Clock: So is it more absurd that the Clergy should so judge of the Scriptures, as to conclude o● teach any thing by w●●● pretence soever against it, or to vouch unwritten verities (as some call them) or traditions contradictory to the written word. But much rather as the 〈◊〉 ought to be set by the Dyal; so ought the Church to subject itself to be directed by the Scriptures. and to prove and examine itself by the same rule whether it be in the faith or no. And finding i● sel●● in the right, it ought by manifest proofs and arguments from thence to show forth the same faith 〈…〉  
3. Thirdly, the Weathercock who 〈◊〉 himself as judge in this controversy between the Dyal and the Clock, is that Pope of Rome, who challengeth the same prerogative iure divino, over the Church and Scriptures. How falsely he doth this, and yet how impudently, is well known to all.  
For I know not what the Pope hath more to do with the rule of the Catholic Church, than the Weathercock (because he stands upon the top of the steeple) hath to do with the government of the Clock and Dyal. I have heard and read the reasons upon which the contrary opinion is grounded, but for my own part can see no strength in them able to turn any but Weather-cock●. The priority of place, the whole Church perhaps would be content to yield him for the general peace, and to express the true humility of holy Pastors, who follow the example and doctrine of their master Christ. But for him (that turns and returns as uncertainly with every blast of humour or occasion, as any Weathercock at ●e change of the wind) to challenge not only the immunity from errors, and the infallibility of judgement, but also to be Christ's Vicar General upon earth, 〈◊〉 Peter's Successor, the Apostolical Prince, and Universal Bishop of the whole Church, to have all power in Heaven and on Earth, and all jurisdiction both temporal and spiritual, impropriated to his Cha●re, and annexed to his place, this seems strange; and they ●ustly deny it him, who are not giddy with standing ●oo near him, or troubled with the same vertigo, by ●eason of the height of place, from whence they look ●pon the rest of the poor afflicted and distressed ●ocke of Christ jesus. But for this proud challenge ●hey know truly how to style him the great Antichrist, and crown him with this triple Crown; the Man of sin, the Whore of Babylon, the Vicar General of HELL.   

CERTAIN PIECES OF THIS AGE PARABOLIZD.  
viz. Duellum Britannicum. Regalis Justitia jacobi. Aquignispicium. Antidotum Cecillianum.  
By THOMAS SCOT Gentleman.  
Scire tuum nihil est.  
LONDON, Printed for Francis Constable. 1616.   

DVELLUM BRITANNICUM.  

DEDICATED To the eternal memory of that admirable Combat performed by two valorous Knights, Sir Robert Mansell appellant, and Sir john Heydon Defendant; where both equally expressing fortitude and skill in giving and receiving wounds, scaped death, notwithstanding by the only favour of Providence.  

SInce you have done more than I can relate  
(A miracle in conquering Death) what hat●  
Is that, than death more deadly, which survives  
To cloud the glory of your after lives?  
Be reconciled; we show most strength and skill  
In mastering our strong frailty, our weak will.    

Duellum Britannicum.  

HOMO HOMINI DAEMON   

Man may Man persuade amiss,  
But the skill and cunning is,  
To rule him right, to cause him do●  
What true wisedom●●o●gs ●nto.  
See how the busy Lawyers throng  
'twixt Man and Man for right and wrong●  
Those Papers, all those books are writ,  
To reconcile Man's jarring wit.  
Pistols, Muskets, Rapiers, Swords,  
All the Engines war affords●  
Are for Man prepared, not hell:  
There no foe like Man doth dwell.  
" Man for sport baits Lions, Bears,  
" Man alone Man hates, and fears.   

GReat Volumes in few lines epitomised  
Are easiest apprehended, and so prized.  
Large Countries in small Maps are best surveyed,  
Because the sense (in these abridgements stayed)  
Keeps company with Reason, never flitting  
From that firm object their joint powers fitting.  
Thus the whole world is in one Man expressed,  
And every part described and judged best.  
Then noble Britain● do not scorn to see  
Thy own face in this Glass I proffer thee:  
Two of thy children, whose fortune tells,  
What danger and assured destruction dwells  
In thy dis-union; and how fond they are,  
Who with false reasons nurse thy civil war.   

The two (two Worthies, nobly borne and bred;  
Enriched with virtue, and upon the head  
Of Court and Kingdom plac●d, (as jewels worn  
For use and ornament) now rend and torn,  
Remain sad spectacles; and cry aloud  
O Man, why, being mortal, art thou proud?  
Why art thou proud of beauty? Roses blast;  
Or of thy wealth? the mines of India waste;  
Or of thy strength? since sickness, age, or wounds  
Let lose the stiff-strung joints, and spirit confounds.  
Or of thy honour, and thy high-born blood?  
Since to be great is not worth praise, but good:  
Or of all these? since all these, and much more  
Wh●rton and Steward had, lost, and died poor.   

Much more they had; so much, that hard it is  
To tell what either wanted. Earth's chief bliss,  
(Their Prince's favour) like the Sun above  
In his hot Solstice stood, and did improve  
Their blooming youths with ripened fruit, before  
Their thoughts could hope: o what could they wish more?   

Friends sought them, fortune blest them; blest them so,  
That which might happiest seem was hard to know,  
Neither had cause of Envy; except thus,  
As th'eies● hands, feet, which guide, guard, carry us;  
Whose self like shape, and equal use admits  
No war, but fellow-feeling of such fits,  
Griefs, and diseases, and each part sustains;  
So shared they in all pleasures, toils, sports, pains.  
Nor had these other cause of war at all,  
" And causeless war is most unnatural.  
Yet (oh) that subtle Spirit incensed rash blood  
With frantic rage, that enery ill seemed good.  
They first must pray; so undeserved gold  
" Ill got, we waste, and have no power to hold●  
Then they proceed to words, from words to blows;  
" The way to ill is easy; but who knows  
The Clue that we return by? hence proceeds  
A Challenge from wronged Wharton: Steward needs  
No such stale provocation: Mischiefs feet  
" Are swift to blood: their quick desires soon meet,  
And (met) soon fight; bold Steward falls by Fate;  
Wharton by Chance: those powers each other hate.   

So I have seen from th' Indies East and West,  
Two Ships well rigged and manned upon the breast  
Of Thetis dancing, spreading flags abroad  
For joy of their long-wisht-for English road;  
Past now all dangerous Ro●ks● Gulfs, Pirates, Sand,  
Ready t'vnlade their rich fraught on firm land,  
And tell the story of their perils past,  
And frolic with glad friends in peace, at last.  
When spying each other so bedecked, adorned,  
With outward pomp: ones pride the other scorned,  
And from that envious scorn some word proceeding,  
And from that word some blow, from that blow bleeding.  
Then giving way to fury, all enraged,  
Both are in desperate terms of fight engaged.  
The fire in water, Led in th'air, their centre  
Do madly seek; and both these r●dely enter  
The strong ships womb, and ransack every hold,  
For precious life, neglecting Indi●n gold.  
The shot seems thunder, but the dying groans  
Of slaughtered souls, shrike louder, deeper tones  
Than roaring Cannons, whose thick charging rout  
Le's water freely in, and pours blood out.  
In this hot fight both firmly do defend,  
Both nimbly do assault, both madly spend,  
Strength, skill, and all to hurt. Conquest inclines  
To neither part as partial. Equal lines  
Are drawn betwixt them both by Fate and Chance;  
Till th' one his topsail fairly doth advance  
To win the wind, and in that vantage flies  
With force and fury on his foe; who plies  
All means to salve this loss, and to regain  
Fair odds, or equal standing once again.   

But all in vain, fortune, the wind, and sea,  
Confederate with the adverse seem to be.  
So this to sink (rather than yield) resolves,  
And half his tattered sides the Sea involves.  
When th' other (covetous) grapples with his foe,  
To board and rob him: and (being chained so)  
The s●ip that leaks sinks, and with his weight draws  
The Conqueror with Conquest, to death's jaws.   

So fares it with these noble Combatants  
Both equally of blood and honour vaunts:  
Both envied and beloved alike, both friends,  
Both young, both valiant, and their life and ends  
So parallel, and twinlike like in all  
That they obtained one grave, one funeral.   

One grave, one funeral, they obtained, yet lost  
The ●ame and honour their youth thirsted most.  
Because their quarrel on false grounds begun,  
Could not produce true praise, nor true blame shun.  
The wounds thou gav'st stout Wharto● had been good  
Against thy Kings or faith's foe; and thy blood  
Heroic Steward, had been nobly shed,  
Against such slaves; so both had bravely bled.  
And your brass Monuments had spoke the fame  
Of wharton's noble, Steward's royal name.  
Then the fierce challenger for his quick charge,  
And stout assault with wounds given deep and large;  
His apt command of every part soon shunning,  
All wounds save one, given more by chance then cunning  
And the Defendant, who so long time stood  
Drowned (yet undaunted) in his own life blood;  
And deadly wounded, past all hope of living,  
Death in his death to his hail fooeman giving;  
Had filled the largest leaves of Fame's fair story,  
And both worn wreath of triumph, conquest, glory●  
And then like patterns ●o both Realms, set out  
By virtue for example; the wise and stout  
Had been your scholars, and their lessons read,  
In those green fields, where both so boldly bled.  
But now (ay me!) as rocks, bars, sands, at sea,  
Or marks set up to show ships where they be,  
Or rather as some wracked ships self, whose mast  
Ore-looks the waves, and yet still sticking fast  
In th' eating silt, bids the wise Pilot fly  
The tracklesses path, where such hid dangers lie.  
So stand these two, the signs of woe, and ruth,  
Of shipwrackt honour, fortune, valour, youth;  
And by their deaths confirm this speech for good,  
" Virtue hath greater privilege than blood.  
" Our souls are Gods, our bodies are the Kings,  
" And he that in his private quarrel brings  
" Either of these in question doth betray  
" The King's part, and gives God's part clean away.   

England, behold in Wharton what thou art,  
And Scotland see in Steward every part  
Of thy best power; shun enmity and strife,  
None but yourselves have power of either's life.  
Let no slight toys (the snares and trains of hell)  
Breed war betwixt you two; but kindly dwell  
Within this I'll as in one house, the rather  
Being thereto wooed by your good King, kind father.  
If not, peruse this glass, and let not me  
The fatal Prophet of such ill news be  
To your succeeding times; but choose you whether  
You'll still live friends, or like these die together.   


DVELLI FINIS:   

A cast of Falcons (in their pride  
At passage scouring) fowl espied  
Securely feeding from the spring,  
At one both aim with nimble wing.  
They first mount up abou● Man's sight,  
Plying for life this emulous flight  
In equal compass, and maintain  
Their pitch without a lazy plain.  
Then stooping freely (lightning like)  
They (counter) dead each other strike.  
The ●owle escapes● and with her wings  
Their funeral dirge, this lesson sings.  
" Who aims at glory not aright,  
" Meets death, but Glory takes her flight.    

Epitaphium Georgii Whartoni Milit.  

TH' offence was great, worse the report,  
The ini●r●e Revenge acquitting,  
And life with many wounds ta'en for't  
Arg●'de a mind true honour fitting.  
" For sluggish Cowardice doth shame  
" Anoble Stock, and honoured name●    

Epitaphium jacobi Stewardi Armigeri.  

WIth an undaunted heart I fought,  
Revenge and Choler me assailing,  
In fight I fell, with courage sto●t,  
My life and ●oes, together failing●  
I dig'de my grave out with my sword,  
And stroke, whilst life would strength afford.      

JUSTITIA JACOBI.  

Dedicated to the grave, reverend, and judicious Knight, Sr. ROBERT GARDINER, sometime Lord justice of Ireland.  

SO many men press now for place in State,  
Desert and Worth cannot come near the gate:  
●ut happy were it for the State and Us,  
●f we (as Rome did) sought for Curius.  
●here should we find him, far from Court, with you  
perhaps a Gardener, or perhaps at Blow.  
●et even the same which Pyrrhus did withstand,  
●amnites, and Sabines ruled, as you Ireland.  
●hen should our Kings clear justice shine too brigh●  
●o suffer potent wrong, cloud impotent right.  
●hen should this act of justice so above  
●ll precedents, make others like it moo●e.  
But wretched we, whilst few the door can pass  
Of high preferment, but the L●den Ass.    

Regalis Justitia JACOBI.  

DEUS VIDET.   

Man, Angel, nor the Fiend of Hell,  
Can Man's heart see, search, and tell,  
That God alo●e doth understand,  
Closing all thoughts within his hand,  
He better knows then Priest, judge, Scribe,  
Who gave the last cause-carrying bribe.  
He sees, when sentence goes aw●y,  
Where the hidden ground doth lie.  
He knoles if it be true or no,  
The doubtful witness swears vnto●  
He marks the jewrie and their leader,  
And observes the lying Pleader.  
He notes the Council what they do,  
And the King's heart searcheth too.   

HOw hateful is this silence? I have stood  
Wishing, expecting, musing long, who would  
With honest thrift, this fair advantage take  
To fame himself for ever, and to make  
This senseless age conceive (perhaps commend)  
The good we now enjoy, not apprehend.  
Time was, King's words were like to apples, snatched  
From the Hesperides, so obs●ru'd●, so watch'de.  
None ●●ffer'd to drop down; all highly prized  
Preserved, recorded, apothegmatizde.  
But now their words (though Or●cle● to those  
Of former times, though verse unto their prose)  
Are slighted by this lip-wise age of ours;  
Whose rootles knowledge bears no fruits but flowers  
Where is the Man whose better fate, admits  
Him place, time, means, to hear the King of wits.  
Discourse like Solomon, of every thing,  
Begot betwixt the winter and the spring?  
Determine every doubt that doth arise  
'twixt heaven and earth, the idiot and the wise?  
That doth for private use, or public good  
Make known how Sab●-like, he understood?  
And did not (like the pictures) wait for show  
To fill place only, but to learn to know.  
This man is yet no Courtier, or at lest  
No daily waiter; scarce s●●ne at a feast.  
Too poor and plain to travail, and bring back  
The ●ongue and heart of treason; he doth lack  
A face t'outface his wants, and doth bewray  
His ignorance in every arrogant way.  
He means good faith and speaks it, though the lip  
Of censuring law, his state and body stripped  
Of coin, and ears, and freedom; it's no crime,  
To speak truth (he thinks) though't be out of time.  
He is no chamber Traitor from hell sent,  
To undermine the Souls high Parliament.  
He cannot candy poison; wants the ways  
To tickle truth to death, with her own praise.  
He dares not wear a desperate suit t'undo  
Himself, a Mercer, and a Tailor too:  
And then make that the preface how to ask  
Towards his unknown loss in the last mask.   

But such as can those Courtly Mysteries  
Want time for this. Themselves are histories  
Not easily learned; 'twill ask a perfect Man  
To read them daily o'er, do what he can.  
And ere he learns by heart each attribute  
Appropriate to the body, and the suit,  
Himself grows old, or a new-fashion springs:  
Which shifts the Scene, the form, and face of things.   

Thus silkworms spend their times, & scholars too  
Have idle work enough to turn them to.  
Perhaps a pair of feet and a tongue strove  
Who should walk fastest, and most countries rove.  
In fewest hours to smallest purpose; these  
At length return (their travails finished) please  
To publish their fond journal. But (alas!)  
Neither themselves, nor their huge work can pass  
Our press unpraisde. O Courtiers thither high,  
Gallants, Wits, Poets; Let your Muses fly  
Not to reform, or settle this light brain,  
But render him more wild. Yourselves shall gain  
Much wonder by't; extolled shall be your skill,  
For writing well in jest, in ●●rnest ill.  
Or if not this, some other witty task  
Stays your continual leisures, and doth ask  
Ink from your pens, t'asperge, deform, defile,  
States and their instruments, with libels vile.  
No man must live without your fawning praise,  
Nor no man die without your rounddelays.  
Death makes you sport, & strokes which force the State,  
Stagger and reel; your humours elevate.  
" Vice living, is preferred to Virtue dead,  
" The present, no time else, is honoured.   

If you attend on Kings, it's to observe  
Their imperfections, where their frailties swerve  
In rash attempts or passionate words unstaid,  
From juster rules, their intemperate bloods once laid  
As if Kings were not men, weak, frail, and poor,  
Like to their Subjects, and subjected more.  
As if at Rome (whether you send this news)  
All there were Saints, & your Pope's Court no stewes●  
As if that you a Patent had from Hell  
All things to say or do, but nothing well.  
O! if you yet retain a grain of that,  
Which your high aims would seem to level at:  
Or if no faith (but that you Atheists be,  
And nothing but unhallowed Reason see)  
If but a spark of that remain entire,  
Which you seem to monopolise (the fire  
Prometheus filched from lou●) let that bright flame  
Kindle your zeals for self, kings, country's fame,  
To use those opportunities, parts, places,  
Intelligences, means, friends, fortunes, graces,  
You have 'boue other, for the public good,  
That we may understand you understood.  
Learn Saba- like to hear, observe, report,  
The good our Solomon speaks, doth at Court.  
Not Shemei- like to slander, curse, deride,  
Religion's Nurse, Arts glory, virtue's pride,  
But you contemn my admonition. Go  
Feed ●at for hell, the place you co●et so.  
And let my humble Muse, applaud, admire  
And celebrate heaven's grant to our desire.  
Tell what thou seest and feelest. Ingratitude  
" Receives, craves swallows, a whole multitude  
" Of gifts and graces, without thanks or cense,  
" And with dull silence beats heaven's blessings hencel  
" It is Detraction to conceal due praise,  
" When good related, might more goodness raise.  
" It is not flattery to report truth well;  
" True glasses both our faults and favours tell.   

Here then receive this one work royal ●ames,  
Which now reflects upon thee, and more fames  
This Church and kingdom, than thy birth, crown, pen,  
Or ●hat else makes thee the good King of men.  
I sing thy justice, whose clear rays gives light,  
To neighbour Princes in this ignorant night  
Of misty error, and corrupt Respect,  
How to inform aright their intellect.  
And (having here on earth, 'mongst Christian Kings  
And Pagans shone) it mounts the winds swift wings  
Calming the sea, bounding her ebbs and tides,  
And in her monthly change the moist Moon guidest  
Then sores up higher, and informs the Sun,  
How 'mongst the signs in an even line to run;  
How to make days, and nights; and higher yet  
Mounts, till it be in the first Mover set.   

Two warlike kingdoms linked in happy peace.  
When they beheld how common fewdes did ●●ase  
And saw how strongly blest that concord stands,  
Where brethren join first hearts, and after hands,  
Resolved that course; turned matches into Masks,  
And revelling tissues wore for massier Casks:  
Steeds trained for ready fight, learnt now to peace,  
And knew no foes but Bucks and Hares; nor race  
But on smooth plains for wagers, or for sport,  
Not for loved life; where Camps lay, lay the Court.  
Keene swords that bit the bone, abated now  
Kissed without making scars, or helped the plough  
To draw long furrows on the fruitful earth,  
Lest Peace should (breeding teeth too fast) breed (dearth.  
Blunt foils were on sharp pointed Rapiers set,  
And so Lord Sanquier and poor Turner met.  
They met to play: there Sanqu●er lost an eye.  
O Britain! canst thou nothing further spy,  
In this then his loss? Look up now and see;  
Security hath ta'en an eye from thee.  
Ill didst thou ward that blow; If sport hurt so,  
O what will open force and malice do?  
Thy King rides, hunts and falls. Are horses then  
Turned traitors too? will beasts prove like to men?  
Can Kings find sportful peace so hazardous?  
To arms than Caesar, shun the Senate house.  
Like poison, poniards, pistols, Death above  
Attends on ‛ Princes when they feed, sleep, move;  
Beneath like powder, that the ground they tread,  
Seems all one continent, to quick and dead.  
And is't not so with others too? behold,  
This silly Fencer, in his ignorance bold  
Think's his submissive sorrow will suffice  
For that unhappy thrust at Sanquiers eyes;  
And begging pardon, seems to have it then.  
What fool dares trust the unseald words of men?  
Yet Turner will. A reconciled foe  
" Seems a true friend, to him would have him so.  
He thinks (now Dunne is dead) to die in peace.  
" but blood cries out for blood, and doth not cease  
" Till vengeance follows. Vengeance even at hand  
Whaits like a treacherous Groom of Sanquiers; and  
(When Turner nothing of his near death thinks,  
But laughs, & plays, & to his deathsman drinks.)  
Let's his charged pistol fly, whose mouth spits lead  
With fire-winged speed, striking the Fencer dead.  
" No ward avoids that blow: Pal● Death we see  
" A fellow-gamester in all sports will be.  
The Murderers flee; Iusti●e pursues with speed,  
Th' Abettor, Actor, Author of this deed;  
Who (apprehended) apprehend too late  
(If friends help not), the issue of their fate.  
But friends will help. One steps unto the King,  
Kneels and thus pleads. Liege Lord, you are the spring,  
From whence Nobility flows. And all our blood  
The nearer yours it comes, the nearer good:  
As you first gave, so let your power preserve  
Those that are set a part the Crown to serue●  
Others by fit election, these by fate  
Are made hereditary to the State;  
Distinguished from the common rank of those  
Who only know they are not, when they rose  
And priuiled●ge above the rascal rout,  
Whose words and deeds have reference to account.  
Else why did our bold fathers, with the loss,  
Of limbs and lives, honours for us engross?  
O why do these new Nobles de●r●ly buy  
Those attributes for which they dare not die?  
Or why should land or gold● which all things can  
Be given for ●itles, if they mend not man,  
And something add besides an empty sound,  
To recompense the gloss of gold and ground?  
If honour doth nought but a name afford,  
A Lordship than is bette● than a Lord.  
" Nobility this privilege doth bring,  
" It makes the owner something like a king;  
" Exempting him from penal laws, which crack  
" With heavy pressure the poor Commons back.  
This (Sir) I speak t'excite your royal power  
To rescue Noble Sanquir, who this hour  
Is by the too-stricked vnrespectiu● laws  
Condemned to die a villa ines d●ath. The cause  
And quarrel this. The Baron chanced to play  
With a rude Fencer; where both did bewray  
Their best ability at Rapier foils.  
The ●encer to uphold his credit toils,  
But wanteth skill; which makes his hate arise;  
And with an envious thrust at Sanquirs eyes,  
The wicked and enchanted foil deprives  
An eye of sight; worth many Fencer's lives.  
The suffering Lord forbears to kill him then  
But being after scorn'de by watermen,  
Fiddlers, and such base instruments of hell  
For this foul blemish, his great heart did swell.  
And (full of noble courage) loath to do  
So black a de●de himself he puts it to  
His man's performance, who obeyed too soon,  
Repentance came before the deed was done.  
The equal laws to equals doth appoint  
An eye should have an eye, joint answer joint.  
But where suc●●ddes of persons be, I guess  
An eye should have a life to boot, no less.  
Yet not on this or that doth Sanquir stand;  
His death, his life, his doom is in your hand.  
He doth confess the foulness of his guilt:  
He sorrows for the blood that he hath spilt.  
Your mercy (royal Sir) he doth implore  
For this rash act, who never begged before.   

Scarce had he don●, and e'er the king could speak,  
An other thus begins. If you should wreak  
Each English peasants life with blood so high  
As noble Sanquir is, No memory  
Of your fair train, of Native Scots, should stand,  
To let times know the glory of that land.  
Soldier's must doff their arms, and gowns put on,  
If villains so foul may pass upon  
Lords vnreueng'de; or if those antique names,  
Those honours, trophies, and eternal fames,  
We got by killing many Englishmen,  
Be for the death of one, thus lost again.  
If thus to quench the feud you pleased are,  
You thereby quench the heart of lawful war.  
Remember what a soldier he hath been;  
How easily might forget it was a sin.  
And think he did but chastise one of those  
Who'gainst his Leader muteni'de, and rose.  
Many of th' English have been pardoned  
For treasons capital. Some honoured  
For their knee-seruice, and no other merit.  
Then (Sir) let us who lineally inherit  
Allegiance, worth, and honours; sometime find  
You left not all your Scottish blood behind:  
Nor mean to leave us in the hands of ●hose  
Who kill with law more friends, than fewdes kill foes.   

Thus ended he; And then as in a Queer  
Of solemn singers, one shall ever hearer  
After the Trebles hath the Anthem sung,  
(And their divisions with shrill utterance ●ung);  
The Base, the Tenor, Counter-tenor sweet,  
With Howboyes, Cornets, Trumpets, Organs meet,  
And join their hye-stretcht notes, that all the ring  
Seems Echo-like, their sonnets to resing:  
So did the grave and gallant troop, which stood  
About the King (like a dew-dropping wood)  
Convey their powers to make this consort full  
And cried; Be styled King ●ames the merciful.  
Or (if to satisfy the course of law,  
And stop Opinions wide-gull swallowing jaw)  
Life must have life, take Carlis●e, one for one,  
And one to boot too; so this Lord be none.  
With that (as if all aims would this advance)  
Comes from the Regent and the King of France,  
Letters, entreating for their Pensioners life;  
And last, as if the difference of a wife  
Should from this fact take characters, to know  
A true good wife, from a good wife in show:  
Comes his forsaken Lady all in black,  
(W●ose youth from him did due benevolence lack)  
Weeping, entreating, for her lost Lords sin,  
And then like fullomes that run ever in  
A bail of Gossips (some true beggars borne,  
Pitying this Lord more than the Lord of Lorne)  
Beg his remission with obstreperous voice:  
But 'mongst the rest, she that made loudest noise,  
Was Turner's Widow, whose shrill throat did yell,  
That she was satisfied, and all was well.   

The king abhorred it, and his upright heart,  
Beholding these assaults on every part,  
Made it his glory to be only good,  
And from his crown to wipe those stains of blood.  
Thus he repliest" The crown for justice sake,  
" Heaven placed upon our head; which none can shake  
" Or touch, till with unjustice we make way,  
" And (for respect) that strict rule disobey.  
" God is our Guard of proof, that we may be  
" A guard to you unpartial, just, and free.  
" And this stands firm; If one hand goes about  
" To sign a crooked line, th' other blurs it out.   

O magnanimity, above a Man!  
O justice more confirmed than that which wan  
Zeleuchus so much fame! Corrupt with gold  
States, Cour●iers, Law, or Wi●es that will be sold.  
Pervert with passion every solid heart,  
Move Stoics, or melt marble with thy Art,  
justice sits still untouched, with kingly care,  
Not pardoning till true mercy bids him spare.  
And then not striking, though the life he gives,  
Repines, and envies that the giver lives.   

Denied they vanish, as the clouds disperse,  
When the hot-shining Sun looks red and fierce.  
The law proceeds; the Actors suffer first,  
A death too-good, too-bad; the best the worst.  
The Author than submits him to his doom,  
And dies a Catholic; That's a man of Rome●  

Romulus & Remus nur●ed by a Wolf, ●omulus●ew ●ew his ●rother R●nus for lea●ing over ●he walls of ●is City ●ome.  O Rome! lives yet that Wolf which was thy Nurse  
When (growing great) thou grew'st the whole world's curse?  
May none yet leap thy walls, or leave thy Sea  
Unslain, though he a King and brother be?  
Retain'st thou yet that savage kind, to pray  
On the distressed flock which shuns thy way?  
Do all that suck thy breasts, for milk suck blood?  
Dare not that spring from thee die well, do good?  
Must Gibbets only rock them to their rest?  
Do they desire that death? become theyed best?  
Must Traitors, Murderers, only be thy Saints?  
Wear none white robes but such as scarlet paints?  
Else why do all evil men so soon drink up  
The deadly lees of thy enchanted cup?  
Or why do fools so credit what Rome saith,  
But for they easily learn implicit faith?   

If Rome keep heavens keys, (as'tis out of doubt),  
None dare bar Lambert, or Lord Sanquir out:  
Nor need they fear, where jesuits have to do,  
Garnet shall be a Saint, and ●udas too:  
Their writings and examples murder teach;  
They'll not condemn the doctrine which they preach.  
This makes our desperate Ru●●ins, Romans die.  
And our cracked Virgins seek a Nunnery.   

justice's rise Lion-like out of thy sleep,  
The Western Wolves worry the ●rish sheep:  
And here at home thy borders swarm with those  
Who do imitate, breed, beget thee foes.  

Union.  The t scar thou thinkst to close, these make more wide,  
" True faith unites, but their faith doth divide.  

●nno 1. ●acob.  The Grimes are banished, but worse Foxes earth  
In those vast places, through the Gospel's dearth.  
The Humour that feeds these, affects the heart,  
And doth dilate itself through every part  
By secret influence, though it closely lurks,  
" Causes are best discovered by their works.  
" Examples though they do no other ill,  
" Rebel against the Laws in being still.  
" They countenance give to error, and curb in  
" Bold reprehension, making truth a sin.  
" Who hides his questioned faith he ought reveal,  
" Will utter what perhaps he should conceal.  
Hunt out these Foxes then; it is a sport  
Fitting a King, a Council, and a Court.  
Use Hounds that lie not, or fly out; for such  
Spend freely, sweetly, but thee ground ne'er touch,  
They please the ear and eye, but never mind  
To kill the Game. Those Cubs are of their kind.  
But stay, take off, we riot: leave the sent:  
" Plain Truth cannot be slain, but may be shent.     

Aquignispicium.  

DEDICATED TO THE FREE and bountiful Housekeeper, Sr. Le-strange Mordant, Knight Baronet.  

THou that are almost only left to tell,  
Wherein our ancient Gentry did excel,  
These upstart plants, be still thyself, till we,  
For shame reform our lives, and wax like thee.  
So plain, free, upright, honest, open, just:  
But sure first die, and rise again we must.    

Aquignispicium.  

A CAPITE, VSQUE AD CALCEM   

The State is cast; God doth behold  
Eyes blind, ears deaf, tongues dumb with cold.  
Days care to get, gets nightly cares,  
Which memory foils, and judgement mars.  
The faint hearts (slowly beating) tells  
Dull spirits in the slack ner●e dwells,  
The Liver boyles with l●stfull blood,  
Weak stomach brooks no meat that's good.  
Loose palsy makes the hands to tr●mble,  
When they for love shake, they dissemble.  
The gouty knees do stiffly bend;  
The feet walk flow to all good end.  
The Doctor saith; Repent, fast, pray,  
Die, or this diet take we may.   

GOd bends his bow but shoots not; see, it stands 
Alluding to the Rainbow.   
As if the stiff string were in Man's own hands.  
For God first placed it so, that Man might know  
How prone to peace he is, to war how slow,  
That covenant which he made with Noah, he keeps,  
His Mercy ever wakes, his justice sleeps.  
And though our sins a second Deluge craves,  
he'll drench the world no more in those salt waves.  
" What hurt from heaven falls, first from th' earth proceed'st  
" And Man's misfortune, springs from man's misdeeds●  
Misdeeds that from ourselves, friends, country come,  
And where they should on all, light but on some.  
The snow, hail, rain, are by the Sun's pure beams  
Exhalde from standing Marshes, whose streams  
Infect the air with foggy mists, and then  
Are botteld up in clouds for sinful men.  
And for Man's good, in season they distil  
Or out of season, to amend the ill.  
The plagues we feel fall at the head and foot,  
Are shafts 'gainst God our hands first upward shoot.   

Presumptuous sins in Country and at Court,  
Creatnesse, and Grace, and Favour do support.  
The Pulpit flatters; justice sits and smiles,  
Making a gainful skill, of lingering wiles.  
" Who hath great friends lives free, & wanteth faults,  
" But without friends the upright innocent haults.  
Vice now provides us raiment, meat and drink,  
So how't increased not how to kerbed we think.   

Old men wax impudent, lascivious, wild,  
That fits them best, which scarce becomes a child.   

Young men are stubborn, disobedient, stout,  
And rule, and teach, even from the swathing clout,  
They all things know and can but (what they ought)  
Themselves and virtue. These they never sought.   

Fashions from Spain, France, Germany, and Rome,  
And Turkey too, wi●h their Religions come.  
So they are suited fair from top to toe,  
And each new suit in a new faith they go.   

Matrons that are not dead nor yet alive.  
But betwixt both, in some part vegetive,  
Crown their smooth scalps with hair, 〈◊〉 now makes  
A second Mistress ready for the grave  
Young Maids (that go for such) are Mothers known brave  
And such as should be none, are Virgins shown.  
O modesty where dwellest thou? Womanhood  
Is scarce by our high English under stood  
Vice grows so common, tha● it is far more  
Opprobrious, to be chaste, then be a whore.  
All things are out of order. Laws are made  
Strong means not to defend, but to invade.  
Then why should we limit the sea, or fire  
Within their bounds, and not our own desire?  
Southward th' Armado, and the fleets of Spain,  
(Oft beat●n) sleme to threaten us again. 
Ann. Dom. 1588. The seas broke in before West, now East.   
And East and West the Seas would meet we see:  
But that (O wonder!) Northward blest we be.  
The want of water was the cause before  
Those huge built hulks, could not approach our sho●e,  
Who came resolved of conquest: and did stand  
As if they meant to bear away our land.  
Poor I'll so small thou wert, and they so great  
Too scant a sea for them that was thy seat.  
But had they stayed till now, now might they ride  
On the swollen waves at ease in all their pride.  
Andinto every heaven their bold Ships steer,  
As if no sands, bars, shallowes, had been there.  
We know whens'ere they come, God can provide  
Such seas, so high, so uncontrolled a tide,  
Able without their Envy, or their aid  
To bury us; for see how he hath laid  
Our works all level; drains, dikes, sluices, banks,  
Fields, pastures, gardens, manors, farms, and frank●  
With man their owner, and what Man doth feed,  
Are buried with a sea of tears indeed.   

November did we scape thy fifth day thus,  
That every day thou shouldst be ominous?  
Do we so soon forget ●he sixth day last,  
And worst of all days to our Island past,  
That thus we should so oft remembered be,  
From what strange thraldom, we were once set free?  
Or do the waters thus break in, to show  
How humorous and irregular vices flow?  
How Saintlike Sacrilege doth impropriate?  
And calm Oppression swallows Church and State?  
How close Hypocrisy bends his courtly knee,  
And (wanting all faith) would have all faith's free?  
How holy Hymen● sacreds band are broken,  
His torch extinguished, and his rites fore-spoken?  
How Goatish lusts needs all those waves to slake  
His scorching flames, hot as th' infernal lake?  
Or is't for all these crimes, and more untold,  
The faithful Sea, which want our Isle to hold  
In his moist arms, from strange assaults secure,  
Hath changed his love to this sad overture?  
And (for our sins) learns us to fast and pray.  
Bringing in fish, sweeping our flesh away?   

That land which Goshen-like) did flow whil-ere, 
Marshland in Norfolk.   
With all that Man desires or life holds dear,  
So that no spot in all this Isles large field,  
The sith more hay, sickle more corn did yield:  
Where sweetness was the sauce, and fatness fed,  
Whilst Dearth, and Famine from the confines fled:  
Where the stiffe-vddered Cow longed twice a day,  
To meet the merry milkmaid on the way:  
And missing her by chance, wrote on the ground  
With milk-white letters where she would be found,  
Now prostrate lies; the goodly beauty foiled,  
The wealth washed thence, the guards & trenches spoiled.  
O what assurance have we then in clay  
Which (if not Lawyers) Seas thus eat away?  
Build far from waters, that secures thy fear,  
Though less thy profit be, safe dwelling there.   

O no; what's that I see? a raging flame 
New-market burned with many other notable town● in England   
●ounts up in yonder plain, and none can tame  
His hot misgoverned fury. Water here  
Some cry, but no such element is near.  
Like a mad-Dog that through the thronged streets  
Ranging with rage snatcheth at all he meets,  
And all that bitten are, as mad as he,  
Run raging too, that few or none scape free:  
The cry is up, and every man stands armed,  
To do he knows not what till he be harmed;  
And then to save himself neglects the rest,  
And madly mischief does when he means best.  
Or as a town of strength, at dead of night,  
Surprised (by sudden stratagem or slight,)  
The people (with the alarm bell awaked)  
Run out to see what news amazed and naked;  
And meeting death abroad, for life run home,  
And find their houses s●ck'd before they come.  
Then turning back again they know not whither,  
Flock all on heaps and dye like friends together:  
So far'de it there; the fire flew up and down  
Snatching at every house within the town.  
And whilst one thought his neighbour's house to saue●  
He sees his own doth instant succour crave.   

Here stands an Al●house toasting, and the Hostis  
Swearing her false-s●or'de tally burned or lost is.  
The T●pster (wanting water) plies with ale  
The thirsty fire which drinks both new and stale,  
And by that oyly-liquor is not quenched  
But rather Drunkard-like) enraged, incensed.  
The Host (instead of pails) fills pots and swears  
H●e'le use no penny-pots that wants their ears.  
Wisheth his juggs were bigger, he would fill them,  
And (but in vain) on the wild fire doth spill them.  
Here stairs an Ostler whilst the flame makes c●asure●  
On his small bottles and his ostry measure,  
And here a Chamberlain gives quick attendance  
To save his pretty faggots with a vengeance.  
Those pretty faggots which fire-hot being eat  
In a cold morning, scarce would make one sweat.  
Here runs a ravening Usurer doglike tired  
Betwixt his own house and the mort-gagde fired.  
Here flames a barn of some engrossing Farmer.  
And here the study burns of some false Termer.  
Here stands a kennel, there a rack and manger  
For running horses, but both stay the danger.  
A Bawd howls here, and here a ●east of whores  
Burnt oft within, are now burnt out of doors.  
here's a Tobacco shop, and in the Cellar  
Th' Indian Devil, our bawd, witch, whore, man-queller,  
That spirit waster, and that Liver heater,  
Of t'humor radical that greedy eater,  
That breath corrupter, and quick-eye-sight spoiler,  
That wit confounder, and strong Memory foyler,  
That pickpurse, thief, time●cheater, connycatcher,  
That alehouse haunter, and fell mischief hatcher,  
That all compounded evil of every Nation●  
Too bad (almost) for th' English imitations  
Tobacco by the fire was there caroused  
With large pettounes, in piss perfumed and soused.   

Thus what full many thrifty years erected,  
One prodigal flame hath wasted and dejected.  
And now (behold) the prouder Chimneys stand  
As heirs left well● who wasted have their land,  
Of whom the common people use to say,  
It's pity proper men should thus decay;  
Yet none relieves them, or build up their state  
To such an eminent fortune as of late.  
Mongst these one Chimney stands, where passers by  
May read this sentence with a running eye,  
●othing is so close carried or concealed,  
●hich shall not be in his due timere●eal'd.  
Whether by chance or by divine decree,  
(For so all humane actions ordr'ed be)  
This object stands; that all may make good use  
Of what they see, or quit them from excuse,  
He not determine. L●t it be my folly  
Rather than be profane, to be too holy.   

H● t●at once drowned the world, can if he please,  
Drown part or the whole world again with ease:  
But since his word is past, though we abound  
With that which caused the former world be drowned  
he'll keep his promise, and the Sea restrain  
From over flowing sinful flesh again.  
Yet is it in his power the whole t'mmerse  
In variable woes; plagues to disperse  
In the most frequent stre●tes, most fragrant fields,  
That th'air may breathe out death, ●helth now yields  
Or thin cheeked 〈◊〉 (though a stranger borne)  
Who now to know on Fridays th' English scorn,  
Who of all foreigners is worst increated,  
His fashion left, himself in prison seated,  
May be familiar with our countrymen  
(Like a post● Natus, or free Denizen)  
And that without an act, if God think good,  
Though a●l the Peers and Commons it withstood.   

Fire, air, earth, water, all are his: he can  
With or without these, save or punish Man.  
No place is free from him, no thing is hid,  
He knows what Fauk●s, Persi●, and Cate  
Under the ground; and what new plots do come buy did  
From hell, or from hell's Councel-chamber (Rome).  
And this, (and all else) his blessed hand reveals  
To his elect, and with deliverance seals.   

Attend his pleasure then; first we shall see  
Rome burn, and all with Rome that linked bee.  
Then the whole world; and that fire shall disclose  
Each truth, each falsehood, and each cause of those.  
Till then, these waters do but wash the slime  
Of Babel from this too indifferent time.  
These petty fires, kindle our love and zeal,  
(Half-dead) to King, the Church, & commonweal,  
Affliction profits. Strike us (Lord) in love;  
Let thy mild hand each way our firm faith prove.  
But let not Babel triumph in our fall,  
Nor any that on Baal, or Dag●n call.     

ANTIDOTUM CECILLIANUM.  

DEDICATED To the Commonwealth.  

DEsert hath no true follower after death  
But En●y; others flatter with their breath.  
In vain I sought particular Patrons; they  
When life left greatness, ran with life away.  
Blood, kindred, friends, forsook him; so't was ●it,  
We might have doubted else his worth and wit.  
Their compass was too narrow to ●ield shade  
To him that both their roots and fortune's made:  
But gentle England, since he quiet gave  
To thee by his cares, give his corpse a grave.  
And since his wisdom did renown thy name,  
Be thou a Sanctuary to his fame.  
And since he gave for thee his life and health,  
Give him protection, thankful Common wealth.    

TO THE HONOUR of the illustrious Family of the cecils, deserving of this Commmon-wealth, all the Roman wreaths of triumph: The memorable Pyramids of Egypt: And all other Trophies of Eternity.  
AS by one mover, motion, doth commence,  
Even from the Centre, to circumference:  
So from one good Man, many may arise,  
Like-good, like-apt, like-faithfull, and likewise.  
This now is verified; The cecils are  
Statesmen in time of p●ace, Soldiers in war.   

Epicedium.  

What needs, thy Monument be raised?  
What needs, the Muse's singthy worth?  
What needs, thy memory be praised?  
Or what needs Art, thy fame set forth?  
Let Art, time, gold, the Muse, and Men,  
Gild falsehood, folly, ignorance:  
Let them conspire 'gainst thee; and then,  
The more they shall thy worth advance.  
They work, write, rail, or praise to please,  
" But Truth gives virtue, life, not these.    

Antidotum Cecillianum.  

THESAURUS INTUS.   

Darius on a Grave. stone found  
This Epitaph: Who digs this ground  
Shall treasure find. The greedy King  
Digged there, but found another thing.  
Within was written; Hadst not been  
A beastly-minded man, I ween  
The harmless bones of the deceased  
Had in their quiet tombs ta'en rest.  
Who rips the coffins of the dead,  
Finds same and honour thence are f●ed  
With life, the Subject of their Ire;  
Stench only stays to pay their hire.  
" Worth hath his Epicedium sung  
" By envy's shrill and slanderous tongue.   

WHen this rich soul of thine (now s●inted) kept  
Her State on earth, my humble Mu●● ne'er stepped  
Out of that sweet content wherein she dwelled,  
To sing thy worth, th' effects wher● of we felt.  
But now since death hath freedom given to thee,  
To see thy scorn made others flattery,  
And that each mouse on the dead Lion leaps,  
And every rhyming ●en, forged matter heaps  
On thy bright frame, casting their own base dirt  
Upon thy honoured hearse, (minding more hurt  
To thee than ` Death or He●● can do) I may  
And must be bold (or sin) this truth to say.   

Each evidence thy foes bring, speaks thy praise:  
For what can more thy fame and glory raise,  
Then to be railed on by the worst of men●  
Such as like outlaws live, not in the ken  
Of justice, or community? Base slaves  
Whose crimes & sins make their own nest their graus.   

'Twas meet thy virtues eminent and high  
Should not unenvied live, unslandred dye:  
For than we might have feared thou hadst not been  
So absolute a man; now it is seen  
Even by those many shadows Enu● throws,  
That thy worth was substantial, and not shows.   

De●rac●ion●s ●s perplexed, and f●ies about  
Over a world of Acts to single out  
Some one or two in thy whole life to scan,  
And prove by the (what Death did) thou were't man:  
Yet s●eing that past credit, she descends  
To view thy body, and her venom spends  
Not against it but nature, which did shroud  
So great a sun under so small a cloud.  
But we that plainly see men seldom rise  
Though they be learned, judicious, daring wise,  
Except the body somewhat suits the mind,  
And good clothes suit the body too; are blind  
And mad with envy if we yield not thee  
●orth above thought, who to that high degree  
Rose through the eminent parts of thy blessed soul,  
Above contempt, disgrace, scorn or control.  
Nature did recompense thy want of clay  
With heavenly fire; thy body could not stay  
Thy acti●e soul here longer, 'twas too light  
A clog to keep from Hean●n so strong a spirit.   

Well might thy body be a soul to those  
Whose more gross earthen souls did late compose  
Black libels 'gainst thy fame, and raked so low  
Into thy purged excrements to know  
What foul disease durst kill thee, and then found  
Many were guilty: for it could not sound  
They thought like truth, that one disease slew thee  
When they having all yet scape to Deddick free.   

By this they show that whatsoever we think,  
They know all these diseases by th' instinck,  
They are familiar with them and of kin,  
To their first causes of being deadly sin,  
And of the elders house too. For the devil  
(Chief libeler forms all degrees of evil  
And like good boys of his, these labour too  
(More than disease, or Death, or Hell can do)  
To kill the soul, and to belly a fame  
Which laughs to scorn, all scorn, & shames all shame.   

You that stand next the helm and thinkey're free  
From their sharp viperous tongues, it cannot be;  
If death comes, these Ravens follow, and perchance  
(Time favouring their desires) th'eile lead the d●nce  
And rail at you too. 'tis not you they hate  
But our blessed King, Religion, and the State.  
And if (which God forefend) so stood the time  
you'd see they could do worse, than they can rhyme.   

Now I have thrown myself into the way  
To meet their rage, and (if I can) to stay  
Their doglike malice rather on my head  
Then suffer it pollute and wrong the dead.  
If they allege I give him more than due,  
You know their custom, they cannot speak true.  
But if they say I gave him less, their spite  
Shows neither I nor they can do him right.    

Antidotum Cecillianum.  

OPPORTUNE TIBI IN TEMPESTIVE NOBIS   

The Sun passed by degrees those signs  
Which to his southern seat inclines,  
And now in Leo sat aloft.  
The s●eating labourer bans him oft,  
The Shepherd melts, and o'er the Plain  
His new shorne-sheepe seek shades in vain.  
The Merchant, Sea man, every T●ade  
They say by him are Bankrupt made.  
He hears it and (at height of noon,  
Hides his bright beams behind the Moon.  
They sadly know that d●th presage  
Dearth, death, war, want to every age  
And then his late wished absence moan;  
" Fools wisemen miss, when they are gone.   

SInce it's decreed in heaven, found true on earth,  
That all things have an end which had a birth;  
That no estate is fixed, nights follow noon,  
Ebbs second floods, change fills the horned Moon  
Which wanes again at full, and shows the glory  
Of Earth's best essence to be transitory:  
How happy is that Man whose fate expires  
Before declension crowned with his desires.  
And hath his days by virtuous actions told,  
Guessing how much he would had he been old,  
Since young, his noted deeds outvied his days  
And he lacked not true worth but rather praise.  
Few touch this point, yet hither seem to bend  
Preventing ruin with a violent end.  
So Otho, and the Persian Monarch fell,  
But this steep way precipitates to Hell  
Flattering with seeming help our wretched state  
Not curing woes, but making desperate.  
Our way is holy, white, and leads to bliss  
Not by oblique attempts. For nature is  
Made privy with our passage, and we stay  
Till she leads gently on, Grace making way.   

Not every common Precedent can fit  
This golden rule, all aim; but few can hit  
This narrow passage which more fame's the man,  
Then sailing twice through fatal Magelan:  
Or girding all the earth with one small boat,  
Discovering gold, new worlds, things of rare note.   

From hence the ground of thy great praises spring  
O Cecil loved of God, good men, the King,  
Borne up not by stolen imps or borrowed plumes,  
Which lets them fall who with high flight presumes  
Near the sun's scorching beams; thy native worth  
Virtue, and active knowledge, set thee forth  
●is Kingdom's Pilot, where no storm or stress  
●ould make thee lose thy compass or express  
●hew of doubt, but firmly guide our state  
●s th' add'st been ruler both of chance and fate.   

This well thy Master saw, who therefore placed  
●ee next himself, and with high honours graced  
●y great deserts: more couldst thou not desire  
●or earth afford, yet that which we admire  
●as above this, even in the top of these,  
●ing nearer heaven thither to mount with ease,  
●s if th' adst● ta'en th' advantage of the time  
●n Greatness stairs, helped by good deeds to climb.   

O happy thou, but wretched creatures we  
●o s●e thy flight, and yet to slander thee:  
●o feel the fruit of thy life wasting care,  
●hich zealous for our good, no time would spare,  
●o cherish nature, that we thus being free  
●hould only freedom use to rail at thee.  
●ur idleness proclaims thy well spent time,  
●ince by thy means we leisure have to rhyme,  
whilst neighbour States are acting it in blood,  
●hich we scarce hear of, never understood.   

The benefit the Sun gi●es to our sight,  
We see not half so well by day as night.  
Want gives a grace to goodness, when th' enjoying  
confounds and dazels sense like honey cloying.  
●ome needs no target till the sword be lost:  
Whilst Nestor wakes, well may Thirsites boast. 
Plutar in vita Fabii.   
fisher's and expert Masters are all one  
●n calms and deeps, the ship there goes alone.  
●ut when the winds, seas, rocks, and sands do fight,  
●he skilful Master than keeps all upright.  
We fear no storms the Porpuses do play,  
The Dolphin's dance, and Prot●us flocks do stray  
O'er Neptune's watery Kingdom safe and free,  
None casting doubts, or fearing what may be.  
May this calm last perpetual, and faith then  
We ne'er shall need thee Cecil nor such men:  
Others we have to fill thy room thou gone,  
So Aristippus saith, stone sits on stone.   

We yet are senseless of thy loss, and find  
No danger in't. Like some within the wind  
Of a great shot, whose violent thunder drives,  
The sense into distraction, and deprives  
The ear of present use: so did report  
Of thy death make us mad to rail and sport,  
To temporise, lie, flatter; so defaming  
Ourselves, state, manners, law, religion shaming:  
But now the fit being past, 'tis plain to fence  
" Though man for bear's Heaven pleads for innocenc●  
" Virtue o'ercomes by sufferance, and good deeds  
" Are fen●'d by Calumny, as herbs by weeds.    

Antidotum Cecillianum.  

BACULUM TANTUM   

The Cynic sick and like to die,  
To such as asked where he would lie,  
Made answer where you will; the field  
Is large, and room enough doth yield.  
But they replied, the fields are wide;  
Ravenous beasts and vermin vild  
Haunt those places; Kites and Crows  
Who to dead men no mercy shows.  
True (quoth he) but if you please  
Lay a staff to drive hence these.  
'tis only man I fear ali●e,  
From my grave beasts only drive.  
" Though (living) we have staffs for dogs,  
" Dead weare rooted up by hogs.    

EPITAPHIUM.  

Romes' poison, Spain's coplots, the French designs  
Thy skill foresees, discovers, undermines.  
D●g like they licked the dust, crouched low, and faund  
When (living) thy skilled power did aught command:  
But (de●d) they madly rage, grin, some for spite;  
For toothless curs will bark that cannot bite.     


TO THE RIGHT WORTHY, Henry Doile, Esquire.  

THe folly which in man with wit is fixed,  
Must needs have pleasant things with wholesome mixed;  
Else Nature loathe it. Homer's frogs and mice  
Instructs Achilles: Virgil is not nice  
Totue an Oaten pipe. These toys I send:  
Accept; to please, and profit is my end.   
Sic paruis componere magna solebam. Virgi.   

SATYRA AULICA.  

WHo (weary of contentful Country's rest)  
Repairs to Court, with patience had best  
Fore● arm himself, both Fate and Fortune proof  
'Gainst all assaults, or wisely stand aloof:  
For plainness is despised, and honesty  
Is fellow Shakerag with simplicity.  
To be a Scholar, is to be a fool:  
Rude impudency is the Courtier's School.  
Arts are but Lackeys to attend and wait  
On Ignorance, Appearance, and Deceit.  
Canst thou seem wise? Enough. This follows then,  
" Vizards have fairer vizages than men.  
To be a Soldier is to be a slave,  
Danger abroad, reproach at home to have.  
Deep furrowed wounds fresh bleeding in the wars  
Finds less relief and pity then the scars  
Of muskey Courtiers, when their smooth slick skin,  
Is bramble-scratched with a Lady's pin.  
Nor do they now, (as erst they did) delight,  
The stubborn Steeds to manage to the fight;  
To tilt and turnay with strong staffs of oak,  
To fight at barriars with a Brandon's stroke,  
To dance in complete armour, (but alas!)  
To tilt, fight, dance and turnay with a lass.  
The Scholarship they use, is to discourse  
Of my Lord's bloodhound, and his Honour's horse:  
To tell how well the one pursued the chase,  
The other swiftly ran a lusty race.  
Or if more high their heavy wits aspire,  
It's to dispute of lust, and loose desire.  
Their soldiery is swaggering in the Court,  
Where none may strike the urger but in sport:  
To offer strangers, strange and foul disgraces,  
Presuming on their privileged places,  
Which ofttimes is repaid them, when they come  
Abroad from Court, they're welcomed like jack drum  
Their idle hours, (I mean all hours beside  
Their hours to eat, to drink, drab, sleep and ride●  
They spend at shoove-boord, or at penny prick,  
At dice, cards, tennis; or they will not stick  
Rather than not be idle, to delay  
At shuttlecock the precious time away.  
O slaves! regard what slander doth arise  
From your effeminate slow cowardice.  
Have you no Souls? no pens? no swords in hand?  
Behold where cursed Mahom●t doth stand,  
Triumphing o'er the Cross; he jew beside  
And Heathen do our holy faith deride.  
For shame unsheathe your swords, let not reproach  
You sluggish ease is foreign kingdoms broach.  
Cast painted Puppets from your yielding necks  
And scorn to stoop when the stale Strumpet becks:  
Let stallians serve to squench the scorching hea●e  
Of such as marrow, oysters, Ringoes, eat.  
You that are Scholars, soldiers, or such men  
Whose souls seek knowledge, flee this shady den  
Of ignorance; let thither none resort  
But Tailors, Bawds, Perfumers, fools for sport,  
Cooks, Painters, Barbers, Fiddlers; these may hap  
To sleep in fortune's net, and honour's lap.  
In honour's lap? avaunt base dunghell grooms  
You are but shadows: honours lofty rooms  
Must be supplied with men. Though Isis' Ass  
Think men adore his greatness as they pass.  
Yet Isis knows 'tis false; then hence be gone  
And let desert be honoured alone.  
For●une usurp no more, permit not fools  
To triumph over Soldiers, Arts, and Schools.  
Let not the wit for higher actions able,  
Attend for scraps at ●gnoramu● table.  
Fair Cynthia fill thy horn, at length arise  
And chase these black clouds from our troubled skies     

AN IRISH BANQUET, OR THE Mayor's feast of Youghall.  

TAles many have been told by men of yore,  

9 Worthics  Of Giants, Dragons, and of half a score  
Worthies save one, of Castles, kings and knights,  
Of Lady's loves, of Turnaies', and such sights  
As Mandevile ne'er saw; yet none like this  
Which my Mu●e howls: then listen what it is.   


a The old Majors  Saturn grew old, and the gods did agree,  
That 
b New Mayor.  jove should him deprive of Sovereignty,  
And become chief himself. A solemn day  
Appointed was, when all the 
c Aldermen's  Gods most gay,  
Attired in mantles fair, and truses strange,  
Came to behold this Lecher-like loved change.  
The fry of all the Gods was there beside,  
And each his bastard had, his Whore and Bride.  
The milk-white path which to ●oues Palace leads,  
In comely order all this rich troop treads.  

d An old wi●e.  Ceres threw wheat upon Ioues face most dainty,  
Presaging and forespeaking future plenty.  
The well-instructed swine did follow after,  
And for the whe●t left something that was softer,  

e Smell out the meaning.  Civet, like Irish soap. Sweet natured beasts,  
Fit waiters at such civil solemn feasts.  
At length the train reached the high Hall of jove.  
The Gods sat down, the 
f Alderman's w●●es.  Goddesses than strove  
For place and state: but 
Mistress Maiores.  Iun● most demurely,  
Placed and displac'de that day, as pleased her surely,  
The tables stood full crowned with dainty dishes,  
Enough to satisfy the idle wishes  
Of longing Wives, or Maids grown green and sickly,  
With eating fruit, and doing nothing quickly.  
Huge 
h So they call their butter cakes●  hands of butter not yet fully blue,  
With quivering custards of a doubtful hue.  
Stewed prune, and bread that passeth 
i Bread of crud●.  Malahane.  
And honey sweeter far than sugar cane.  
Green apples and such plenty of small Nuts.  
That there with safely one might fill his guts,  
Though he were sure the Cooks were Irish sluts.  
The goblets swelled with pride, themselves to see,  
So full of French and Spanish wines to be.  
Nectar-like Vsqua-bath, or Aquavitae,  
And brown Ale grown in years and strength most mighty  
Was there as a 
k Common Irish drink.  Bonniclabbar,  
That every guest his clean licked lips might slabbar  
In full satiety, till they were crowned  
With Bacchus' wreathes● and in still slumber drowned.  
The fiddling 
l Two fiddlers and a blind boy with a bagpipe.  Spheres made music all the while.  
And rhyming 
m Their poer● Chroniclers.  Bards brave meeter did compile  
To grace this feast: when 
n One of the Aldermen.  Phoebus standing up  
took in his greasy fist a greasier cup  
And drunk to Daphne's health. Bacchus replied  
And straightway quaffed another to the bride  
Of Mulciber. This health past all along.  
Then Mars his feather waged amongst the throng  
Carousing Pallas health (brave wench and wise)  
Which draught cost bonny 
o The fiddler's boy.  Cupid both his eyes,  
Straining to pledge it. Maia's son stood still,  
And stilly marked how Ganymede did ●ill  
The several healths, which swiftly passed around  
Till all the Gods, and Goddesses had bound  

p They were almost all drunk.  Their brows with wreathes of Iuy leaves and vines,  
And each his forehead to his knee inclines.  

q The Sun went down.  Apollo then slipped thence, and being half drunk  
His burning bonnet doffed, and slily sunk  
His head in Thetis lap. So heaven lost light,  
And cheerful day was damned with irksome night.  

r Master Maior called to his wife for candles.  jove yet disposed to mirth, bad juno spread  
Her Starry mantle o'er the world's black head.  
But 
s She was drunk and would none.  she enraged with plump Lyeus' juice,  
And mad with jealousy, without excuse  
Refused to gild the then unspangled sky,  
With th' eyes of Argus her cow-keeping spy.  

t She took Master M ior a box on the care.  And aided by Necessity, and Fate,  
And all the shrewder Goddesses, Ioues state  
She durst assume, and boldly press as far  
As all the Giants in their civil war.  
They first bound jove, than all the other Gods,  
Who were constrained by darkness, drink, and th'ods  
Of this conspiracy, to condescend  
To hard conditions for a quiet end.  

u Mistress Maiores might do what she would.  jove granted ●uno power of all the air,  
Her frown or smile makes weather fowl or fair.  
His thunderbolts and lightning she may take,  
And with her tongue the worlds firmes axtree shake●  
From hence do women their free charter hold,  
To rule 'gainst reason, or else cry and scold.  
Proserpina obtained of her Pluto,  
That such should only speed, who she-saints sue to:  
That all affairs of man in state or purse  
His wife should sway, or women that are worse.  
From whence this custom springs in town and city,  
The wife grows rich, the bankrupt begs for pity.  
〈◊〉 go● leave 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 with an 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
And that no saucy god should once reprove her:  
That Mars and she might dally, whilst Don Vulcan  
Should freely to their pleasures drink a full can.  
Fro whence this use proceeds, that wives once wantoness  
Wage servants, as the French the Swissers Cantons.  
You that are Statists look unto this gear,  
Do not Tyrone and his rash striplings fear;  
Fear not Tirconnel, nor those Gallowglasses  
That cut, and hack, and carve men as it passes:  
Fear those which all these fear, those father's holy  
Which make the whole world their sole monopoly:  
That crown & uncrown Kings, when as they please,  
Play fast and loose like jugglers with slight ease;  
Dissolve all oaths, though made with hand and heart,  
And pardon all sins, 
x The eight deadly sin, and more shunned of the Irishmen then the other seven.  yea an Irish fart.  
Fear these, and 
y Their crosses, their wives.  those they join with, lest too late  
We find our ●le an Amazonian state,  
Where none but women, Priests and Cockneys keep  
As close as young 
z His history is well known.  Papiriu●, and as deep,  
And none but these state mysteries may know,  
Lest they to more fools than themselves should show  
The 
a They plot and consult of nothing else.  treasons, stratagems, and 
b Stories out of the Legend which they believe above God's Word.  golden fables  
Which are projected at their Council tables.  
If this advice be good, cry, jove be thanked,  
And with that short grace close my Irish banquet,    

To all those Knights, Ladies, and Gentlemen, to whom my Dedications are made, a true reason and excuse why I have not placed them in their ranks and distances.  

IF any of you now be discontented,  
To have your names found here, it is repent  
On my part too: for I would no man wrong  
Nor honour, but for merit in my song.  
If here yond find your virtues be not proud,  
But think you are by me and truth allowed  
To wear Fame's livery, which if y'abuse,  
she'll soon pull off again; and as you use  
To deal with your evil servants, put ye forth  
Naked of honour, if you be of worth:  
But whilst you be what now I know and write,  
Your fames guard me, and I give you your right;  
Yet not in place, for I myself profess  
To be no Harold; but if worthiness  
Had as much power, as many hath, to grace,  
You should not (having so much worth) want place.   
FINIS.   

THE SECOND PART OF PHILOMYTHIE, OR PHILOMYTHOLOGIE.  
CONTAINING CERTAIN TALES OF True Liberty. False Friendship. Power United. Faction and Ambition.  
By THOMAS SCOT Gent.  
LONDON, Printed by john Legatt for Francis Constable. 1625.   

MONARCHIA.  
DEDICATED To all the worthy professors of the Law, who make not private-wealth, but the good and peace of the Commonwealth the end of their studies and practice.  

Though you (perhaps) be Clyentlesse and few,  
Friendless and poor, yet 'tis to you I sue  
For kind acceptance. You alone are they  
Who by example guide us in our way.  
You look not on the fee, but on the cause, 
Cambden Insula vectis. This title is given them by our worthy L. chief justice of Eng.   
And follow truth, as truth doth lead the Laws.  
The rest, with vice, and wealths illgotten load,  
Pass on to death, in glories beaten road.   

TH' inhabitants of the I'll of Wight did boast,  
No vermin used to harbour in their coast.  
For they no hooded Monks, nor Foxes had,  
Nor Law * Retrivers who make fools run mad,  
With their strife-stirring tongues; but lived as free,  
From these, as by them others cumbered be.   

And though our whole land cannot boast so far,  
That we from all such vermin quitted are:  
Yet happy is our Isle, that's hemmed about  
With water-walles, to keep our enemies out;  
Whilst we (as Adam did) in Eden dwell,  
And scarce of famine in an age hear tell.  
Where hills are clad with woods, and vales with corn  
Whose laden ears do listen to be shorn.  
Where shepherd neither Lion doubt, nor Bear,  
Nor ravening Wolf which sheep & shepherd tear;  
But each in safety dwell, and silly sheep  
From all but Man, do one the other keep.   

O happy are we if we know our good,  
And if our state be rightly understood:  
To live thus free under so blest a King,  
Just Magistrates and clergymen, that sing,  
The songs of Zion in the holy tongue  
Converting old men, and informing young.  
No spirit-tyrant, Pope, State, Tyrant, Turk.  
Can here their bloody ends and projects work;  
But each in safety may his own possess,  
More free than Kings, because our cares be less.   

But most unhappy are those neighbour lands,  
Where Peace, and Plenty, as two strangers stands;  
Where bloody war, and bloodless famine ride  
Upon the ruin'd top of thankless Pride:  
Where Law destroys, Divinity deceives,  
And where the crown the care of kingdom leaves.  
Where men eat men, as beast devoured by beast,  
The strong the weaker kill, the great the least.  
Where tyranny in triumph mounted high,  
Makes truth and innocence in dungeon lie.   

This tale the difference shows, that weemay know  
How much to God for our good king we owe.  
An aged heart, upon mount Carmel bred,  
Having as Admiral the Navy led  
From Syria through the Seas, to Cyprus shore,  
Where all the I'll with green is covered o'er.  
Happed by a Park to travail, where he spied  
A younger sad heart, standing close beside  
Th' imprisoning pale, and using all his skill  
To free himself from thence, to larger ill.  
Good brother (quoth the stranger) let me know,  
What heavy thoughts they are that vex you so?  
Why do you sadly so yourself bemoan?  
Why having friends within come you alone  
To feed sad melancholy, and invent  
To do a rash act, which you'll soon repent?   

The younger Deer made answer, Can ye muse  
Why I am sad, and wherefore I do use  
All means to free myself, from being thus  
A slave to him that's foe to all of us?  
Know brother, I endure more sorrows here,  
In one half day, than you in one whole year.  
For you have liberty to come and go,  
Though forester and woodman both say no.  
But I by cruel man, imprisoned keep,  
Within this wooden walls, where none but sheep  
Hares, Coneys, Cows, and other of my kin  
Are my associates, simple souls within.  
I have no beast of worth, of birth, or wit,  
With whom I may converse; but fain to fit  
My lofty spirit to the lowly strain,  
Of base companions, sluggish, fearful, vain.  
No Wolves or Dogs come here whereby decays  
The exercise of valour and the praise.  
The traps for vermin, are so thick beset,  
That oftentimes they some of us do get.  
The watchful keeper, every night and morn,  
Commands me rise, and rest with his shrill horn,  
He with his Lymehound rounds the pale about,  
For fear lest we be stolen or broken out.  
He feeds us cheerfully, and doth provide  
Sufficient meat that's fit for every tide;  
But being fat, he chooseth which he likes,  
And through our sides, death's forked arrow strikes.  
Thus all he doth, is his own turn to serve,  
And for his own life doth our lives pres●rue.  
Then gentle brother help to free me hence,  
And my swift thanks shall yield you recompense.   

Stay brother madbrain stay, quoth Light foot than  
If you were out, you'd wish you in again.  
I was in Syria borne, and every year  
A dangerous voyage make, for what you here  
Enjoy with proud contempt. We cannot find  
" Content on earth, without a thankful mind.  
You slight your ease and plenty; we, alas!  
With toil seek that which you with scorn let pass.  
Our meat is grutchd, we like to robbers watched,  
So what we feed on, here and there is snatched.  
The pale you call your prison rather may,  
Be termed your Castle, Garden, Closet, Stay,  
To keep ou● others from those joys of yours,  
Or to preserve you from these woes of ours.  
Whilst we without by Lions, Leopards, Bears,  
Wolves, Eagles, Serpents, and a thousand fears,  
Are hourly vexed, beset, besieged so,  
That as our shadows, death doth next us go.  
Yet none our death's revenge, nor craves account,  
How our neglected blood is lavished out.  
For even that Man (which is your guard) to us  
Proclaims himself a foe, most dangerous.  
He hunts for our destruction cheers the hound,  
Rides, runs, whoops, hollows, and at every sound,  
Rings our shrill death's bell with so fearful blast,  
As charms our joints to hear, whilst hounds make haste  
To finish our desired death, and glut  
With our sweet flesh, each vermins maw and gut.  
Thus do we die abroad, for every man  
Claims right in us, and labours all they can,  
Our weary feet in toils, nets, snares t'enclose,  
When you have friends, to guard you from your foes  
If therefore you have told me truth that there  
You do no creature but your keeper fear;  
O bring me to this prison, show me how  
I may obtain a blessed life with you.  
Direct me to a leap, i'll soon leap in.  
" 'tis happiness, unhappy to have been.  
With that he mounts the pale, adieu quoth he,  
Vain, wide, wild world; who serves the law is free.   

Epimythium.  
There ●ath been long disputation to find out the true freedom. The world holds opinion that Libertines who do what they list, and lust what soever is unlawful are only free men. Cain was founder of this brotherhood. He might do what he list, he was a vagabond exempt from laws, he had a mark of privilege set upon him to keeps him from punishment here. Our jesuits and King-killers being exempt from the tempor all sword are free of this company● But the child of God whose affections are mortified, who obeys law for conscience sake, who is a law unto himself, is the only freeman; for him the Magistrate bears the sword in vain. He would be honest without law, and will be honest if the la● should ●orbid him. Yet would he not resist, but submit himself to power. He is free of that company whereof S. Paul professeth himself one when he saith, I have learned in all estates to be contented. How much more happy are they who live under the protection of a good King, and wholesome laws, than these are who living here like outlaws, go without contradiction out of momentary pleasure and liberty into eternal slavery and punishment.    

The Cony-burrow.  
Dedicated to the lovers of worth, and friends of virtue, who follow truth with a single heart, and speak it with a single tongue.  

Be innocent, but circumspect withal,  
The Turtles mate may be the Turtles stall.  
〈◊〉 wise yet trust not wit. The traps we make  
For others, first do our false fingers take.  
What we delight to use, take pride to wear,  
Take us; as Absalon hanged with his hair.  
Then walk upright, to neither hand incline,  
There's nought frees innocence, but grace di●ine.   

THe Polecat, Ferret, Lobstar, Weasel, made  
A secret match, the Coney to invade:  
Which no way they could compass, whilst he kept  
Himself abroad, when as he fed or slept.  
At last the Polecat to the Coney went,  
With this smooth speech. Good cousin my intent  
Hath been long since t'acquaint you with our kin,  
And tell ye how our cozenage came in.  
Your Grandam was my careful fostermother,  
To your kind S●re, I was a fosterbrother;  
My education, nurture, and my food,  
I from my youth received from your sweet brood.  
In recompense whereof, my thankful mind,  
A fit requital long desired to find.  
The time is come, for I have lately found,  
A secret plot, wherein the cunning hound  
The close dissembling Tumbler, Lurcher swift,  
With Raynard that knows many a subtle shift.  
The Eagle and the goshawk, have agreed,  
Their stomach with your dainty ●lesh to feed.  
First they intent the hound shall hunt you out,  
And by your footing heat ye once about.  
Then shall that hypocrite, the Tumbler tri●,  
To cheat you of your life, with his false ●ie.  
But if he fail, the Lurcher with his speed,  
Will snatch ye up (they hope) and do the deed.  
If not the Eagle, Fox, and Goshauke, swear,  
To eat no meat, till on your limbs they tear.   

The harmless Coney; at this dir● report,  
Ready to sound, besought in humble sort  
The wary Polecat him t'inst●uct and teach  
A way, how he might s●ape his foes long reach.  
Faith (quoth the Polecat) you perhaps might hide,  
Yourself among thick bushes unespide,  
But that the Hounds and Lurcher both are ●here,  
whose scents will quickly find ye out, I fear.  
Again upon the rocks, you might remain,  
But that the Eagle, Fox, and Goshauke sane  
they'll watch ye there; so that no other way  
Remains to scape with life, but night and day  
To scrape and grate with your forefeet, a den,  
Within the earth, where safe from beasts and men,  
And foul, and every bloody foe you shall,  
Your life securely lead in spite of all.   

The simple Coney doubting no deceit,  
Thought treason had not council for a bait●  
And therefore thanks his foe, and (glad at heart)  
To dig his own grave useth all his art.  
A sandy place he seeks, and finding one,  
Free from all clay, or flint, o● other stone,  
He with his forefeet grates, and makes a burrow,  
As deep, as if he meant to travail thorough,  
The body of the earth, and meet the Sun,  
When it unto the Antipodes doth run.  
Which having finished, he prepares a feast,  
And there the Polecat is the chiefest guest.  
The Lobster, Ferret, Weasel too must go,  
To joy him in his house, they love him so;  
And their great friend, the ●iluer-suited Snake,  
Must needs along with them, and merry make.  
He welcomes them, and do●h before them set,  
What iunckets he with purse or pains could get.  
The Lion's Court hath not a dainty dish,  
But he provides it, even beyond their wish.  
" Yet they that long for blood, till blood be shed,  
" Cannot be satisfied, though fully feed.   

Ingratitude! thou monster of the minde●  
Art thou not only proper to mankind?  
Is there a beast that can forget his friend,  
And for his own ends, work his fellow's end?  
Is there a beast whose lust provokes him kill  
The beast that did him good, ne'er wished him ill?  
Is there a beast who under kindness can  
Dissemble hate? O then thrice happy man!  
Thou art not only he that kill'st ●hy brother,  
Some beasts there are that murder one another.  
Some fowls, some fishes, Serpents some there are  
Who pray upon their kind in open war.  
And some that under friendship fal●ly feigned,  
With fellow's murder have their natures stained.  
Nay there is one who can so cover ●uill,  
That man may judge him Angel, find him devil.  
He first with sweet meats poisoned Adam's seed,  
Since when of sweet meats wisest men take heed.   

So need not these bold guest's, they eat and drink  
And then rise up to play; but never think  
Aught fadgeth right, till they have brought to pass  
The purposed plot for which this meeting was●  
Therefore (dissemblingly) the Polecat 'gins,  
To lick and catch the Coney, and so wins  
Hold underneath his throat, which having fast,  
The tragedy begins, the sport is past.  
For all assault him then on every part,  
Some at his sides, some at his head and heart.  
Some at his belly, but the poisonous Snake,  
Doth at his tail a deadly issue make.  
The helpless Coney ●ues, intreat●, ●nd strives,  
But he must die had he ten thousand lives.  
Each foe his greedy go●ge with blood doth glut  
And with his sweet flesh cram each hollow gut.  
" But blood that's sweet in taste, is not so sound,  
" To feed upon, as milk that's easier found.  
The Snake with poisonous touch had venom spread,  
Through all the swelling veins, from tail to head.  
And they had sucked the black infection in;  
A fitting vengeance for their crying sin.  
Strait they their stomach find not well at ●ase,  
And something feel, that doth their minds displease.  
The Weasel first suspects the Snake, for he  
Can never with a Serpent well agree;  
Says, they are poisoned all by one base slave,  
Whose company the Ferret needs would have.  
The Snake replies, he did no more but what  
He was appointed to perform by plot.  
And if they foolishly had eat their last,  
He could not mend with sorrow what was passed.  
They find it true, but find it now too late,  
Each raving dies, and yields constrained by fate.  
Yet ere they die, all do their farewell take,  
By shaking teeth together on the stake.  
Who deadly wounded, crawls but faintly thence,  
Confounded with the guilt of his offence.  
And heeding not his way, by good mishap,  
Became a prisoner to the warriners trap.  
This feast was ended thus, death took away,  
And where they did not well we mend it may.   

Epimythium.  
Some are of opinion that wisdom consisteth i● the ability to give good counsel. But I think the knowledge how to take good counsel and how to discern the differences of advice, is the principallpart of wisdom. That Frog in Aesop which in a great drought spying water i● a deep pit advised his fellow to leap downe● that they might be satisfied and live there, gave good counsel and seemed to be a pattern of the first wisdom spoken of● But the other Frog that refused his advice, and dived deeper than the present time, than the bottom of the pit with this question; But if the water fail us there, how shall we get out, or how shall we live there● was a figure of the second wisdom, and teacheth us that it is harder to take good counsel then to give it. Let us therefore beware in this point, and learn to look a little beyond that good which is first and most apparent in every project, The second and third good is that which we must rest on● for truth is often most remote and neorest the bottome● all that swims uppermost is the froth and false good and fraud.    

The House of Fame.  
Dedicated to all the noble atten daunts of Royalty in the Camp of Virtue, who fight for the honour of the Church, and Commonwealth.  

Till now of late we feared that loud report,  
Of Cressy field, Poicters, and Agincourt,  
Fought by our Kings and Princes heretofore,  
Had not been true, or should be told no more.  
We wondered if those Nobles ever were  
Who●●ame for arms and bounty did prefers  
We doubted all our Countries had forgot.  
The deed of Audely or believed it not●  
we thought our Nation was of worth ●eref●,  
When bows and arrows and brown bills were left.  
But see● occasion now hath turned our eyes,  
To inward wars where greater wonders rise.  
To see affection couquerd, l●st chastisd'e,  
Priae humbled, Murder slain, all vice despisd'e.  
And all old virtues freshly now reneude,  
By fa●re examples as the Sun ere viewed.  
In which bra●e war of wonders (passing far  
All other conflicts that compounded are  
(Of love and hate) each Lord who lends a hand  
To fight against vice for virtue, doth this land  
More ●onor than his ancestors before  
In conquering France, and shall be famed for't more.  
Some for their Prudence who found out and led,  
Others for zeal through whom the enemy flede  
Others for Art, whose skill the squadrons placed  
Others for justice who the enemy chased,  
And some for Constancy's who held it out.  
And still unwearied, not unwounded fought.  
But none more ●ame attained then mercies squire,  
Who begged to give, all sa●ing i● desire,  
He Audely-like taught Courtiers how to crave  
What they might give aways and giving s●ue,  
Save free from fear of forfeiture or loss,  
Or there-begging or the next y●●res cross:  
Or envies eye sore, or the Commons ●ate,  
Or poors complaint, or grievance of the state,  
To him and to the rest, this tale is sent,  
Howsoever taken with a good intent.   

FAme that in Homer●s time a vagrant was,  
Without a house and home, did after pass  
In stately structures all the mixed race  
Of S●mdeities, and every place  
Built her a Court, assisted by the Rages  
Of s●ndry Poets i●succe●ding ages.  
For every one did something add, to frame  
More space and room for their friends narrow fame.  
Which as they purchased, still to her they gave  
And that's the cause, themselves so little have.   

This Fame hath now her house glazde all with eyes,  
The rafts, beams, balks, nerves, sinews, arteries;  
The doors wide open, ears; hanged round about  
With nimble tongues, and covered so without.  
All things are seen and heard the wide world o'er  
Which touch that place, and farthest off the mo●●.  
The House of Fame built up four stories high,  
Stands in an open plain, in which doth lie  
Four sister twins, True ●ame, and good the first,  
And eldest are; false and had fame the worst.  
And youngest pair, yet swiftest are in flight  
And though last borne, yet oft come first to light.  
These last dwell in two darker rooms below,  
Among the thick Crowds where all errors grow.  
There keep they Court, where Scandals, Libels, lies,  
Rumours, Reports, Suspicions, calumnies,  
Are favourites and Governor's of State,  
Whose practice 'tis true worth to ruinated.  
False fame lives lowest, and true Fame above,  
Bad Fame next false, good fame next, true doth moue●  
Yet good fame sometime doth with false fame stay,  
And bad fame sometime doth with true fame play.  
But false and true (opposed) will never meet,  
Nor bad and good fame, one the other greet.   

It so fell out (as oft strange things befall)  
A gallant Knight, arrived at that fair Hall,  
Attended on with such a noble sort,  
Of warlike squires, as filled this spacious Court.  
Who curiously enquiring of the rout,  
Whose Court it was, could no ways find it out.  
For contradictions cross each other so,  
As truth from falsehood he could no ways know.  
Bad fame did call it hers, and said, she was  
A guide to such as unto glo●y pass.  
False Fame did call it hers; he saw they lied,  
For 'boue their heads, two brighter Queens he spied.  
True fame spoke to him then, and let him know,  
That ●he and good fame did the building owe,  
Being elder borne, to Titan and the Earth,  
Before the Giant's war: when th' others birth  
Long since was subject to their reisters' sin,  
And heavens curse which now they lived in.  
For as those Giants 'gainst the Gods did war,  
So these to truth professed enemies are;  
Had by strong hand, and fraud, usurpd her state●  
And to express to virtue v●most hate,  
Had bard all passage other houses hie,  
That mor all men might in oblivion die  
Or have their memories blasted, glories killed  
By eating time, widow hlies and slanders filled.  
She wished him then if he his good desired  
To have repeated, or his spi● it aspired  
To worthy honour as old knights had wont,  
(Whose swords not rust, but too much use did blunt)  
That he would use some means to set them f●ee,  
Whereby his blessed name might ●ternizd be.   

Good Fame than told him, that the only way,  
How he this enterprise accomplish may,  
Was by the help of mercy, prudence, art,  
Iustic● and zeal, and Constancy of heart.  
All their known friends to summon up in arms,  
To force the place, and to disperse those swarms  
Of idle vagabonds; who kept below  
And hated good Fame, would not true fame know.  
Then (since the stairs of fame were broken down,  
And does stopped up to glory and renown)  
She willed him make an engine where withal,  
He might her lodging and her sister's scale.  
And so himself in spite of peril, raise  
Above the reach of envy, or dispraise.   

The Knight (in spirit ravished with delight  
To hear their speech, to see their goodly sight)  
Mounts his fierce Coursers back, with which at hand  
His Squires attend upou his strict command.  
Wills every one of them to take a dame,  
Such as the Ladies of the house did name,  
Who there attended that they might direct  
This high attempt, with order and respect.  
The Squires with willing minds the knight obeyed,  
And each behind them took a lovely maid.  
Prudence directs her Squires to lead the way,  
(Who follows her direction cannot stray,)  
At length they come unto a fruitful wood,  
Wherein a world of upright timber stood;  
Tall Cedars, Cypress, Pine and royal Okes,  
With country Elmes, and Ash for plough and yokes.  
The learned Laurel, and the weeping Myrrh,  
The smarting Birch, and the sweet smelling Fir  
Grew there in order, and all trees beside,  
Where in the thrifty Woodreeve taketh pride,  
The knight surveys all this, yet ●inds not one  
Fit to be field; till Prudence lights upon  
A proud strait Asp, whose waving top did lean  
On a slight Poplar, with some shrubs between.  
The cursed Eldar, and the fatal Yew,  
With W●●ch and Nightshade in their shadows grew;  
Whose sapless tops, with mildews often stood,  
And grew self-seare, and overtopped the wood.  
The Raven & Shreikeowle there did build their nests,  
And at their roots did harbour harmful beasts,  
Which Pruden●e saw, but mercy would not see,  
Till she perceived how every other tree  
Drooped underneath the height of these alone,  
And could not thrive, or grow till these were gone.  
She therefore (joined with Constancy and Zeal)  
Besought sharp ●●stice, who doth evenly deal  
Her wary blows, to fell all these with speed;  
Who soon consents, and soon, performs the deed.  
At every stroke she fetched, the trees did groan,  
The rest did echo laughter to their moan.  
And now they lie along, their branches topped,  
Their bark piled off, their trunks asunder chopped.  
Then Art with rule and line, these useless payer  
Frames (●ngine-lik●) a strait cloud climbing stair  
To mount Fame's house; this every Squire doth reare●  
And bravely on their backs do thy her bear.  
But Mercy seeing all the other meant  
To burn the C●ips, to save them she is bend.  
And, with her Squire, the knight prays, let them lie,  
For he shall gain, and glory g●t thereby.  
Since chips which cut from Asp and Poplar be,  
Do soon take root, each grows a goodly tree.  
The knight co●●ents, and fenceth round the spring.  
Whose forward growth doth hope of profit bring.  
And now, together to the house of Fame  
With speed they pass, where first the falsest Dame  
Salutes them with a lie, and ●aith she hears  
Her Sisters are together by the ears,  
And have destroyed each other; this she had  
From her Twin sister, who tells rumours bad.   

They slight her leasings, and with speedy assay  
To raise the lather, where bold Zeal makes way;  
But false Fame and her Sister, lay about  
To hinder her, with all their rascal rout.  
Slander, foolhardiness and heartless fear●,  
With foolish Pity, and false Lou● was there,  
Damned Infidelity, and secret Hate,  
And treason ●oo, that close dissembling mate.  
Who all with open mouth, and open lies,  
All ways to stop his honoured work devose.  
They rail, and fight, entreat, and curse and ban.  
The Knight proceeds, in scorn of what they can.  
And mounts the ladder, with his sword in hand,  
Which soon disparkles, such as dare withstand.  
Zeal hales him up, and Prudence guides him right,  
True Constancy encourageth the fight,  
Mercy saves all the innocent, who swarm  
For company, not with intent of harm;  
Art order every act, the engine stays  
And helps the Knight step after step, to praise  
The lusty squires below, with sword and lance,  
Withstand bad fame, whilst justice doth advance  
Her heavy hatchet, and strikes off the head  
Of both the leaders, and there leaves them dead.  
Which when their troops discover, they forsake  
Th' usurped fortress, and themselu●s betake.  
To heady flight, into a marsh near hand,  
Where many whispering reeds and Osiers stand.  
There they like outlaws do themselves enclose,  
In wilful banishment, with all the foes  
Of this good knight, whose valour undertook  
This high attempt, that Fame might rightly look  
On all deservers, and that man might find,  
Like freedom for his tongue, as for his mind.  
That virtue might be crowned by true fame,  
And honest meaning live with honoured name.   

Which promise gladly both the sisters swore,  
In solemn form; and now as heretofore  
The freedom of their tongues they both possess;  
And worth is known from base unworthiness.  
The knight they humbly thank, and him they crown  
The Sovereign of glory and renown.  
Which style, Fame's trumpeters the four winds blow  
Through th' earth's four quarters, that the world may know  
Th' extent of virtuous actions; how no power  
Can stop their passage, nor lank time devour  
Their sweet remembrance; which shall live as long  
As nature hath an ear, or eye, or tongue.  
To every Squire than they this favour give,  
That after death their Fames shall ever live;  
For still those Ladies, whose employment they  
So well aduanc't'shall duly night and day  
Repeat heir labours, and prefer them far  
Beyond Alcides' works, as peace doth war  
Surpass in glory, or those works we do,  
When others wills, and ours we conquer too.   

Now 'tis proclaimed that if we tell no lies,  
We may with boldness speak and fear no spies.  
That what this age hath done, this age may hear,  
As well repeated now as the next year.  
That all our words ourselves shall first expound,  
And that no forced construction shall confound  
Our honest meaning, but be't ill or well,  
We may with freedom our opinions t●ll.  
Since no man dares to do the thing which he,  
Would have all the world both hear and see.  
These orders ratified, they fall to sport,  
And fill with masks and revels all the Court.  
The sequel I refer to Fame's relation,  
Whose golden trump sounds us a blessed nation.    

Satellitium.  
Dedicated to all that stand Sen Sentinel, that watch and ward in defence of this kingdom, especially to the strength and guard of the State.  

Be of one mind; Religion ties a knot,  
Which none undoes, by practice or by plot.  
But if in that we differ, be our breed  
Within one house, or womb, of all one seed.  
'Tis severed soon by hate, respect, or gold,  
Which Law can never soldier, art make hold.  
I'faith only joins, what nothing sunder can.  
‛ Beasts love for benefits, for virtue Man.   

WHo guarded round about, with Parthian bows,  
Or Spanish pikes; or hedged and dikt with rows  
Of sturdy janissaries, or the shot  
Of hardy Swizzars, or the valiant Scot●  
And after these with walls of steel and brass,  
Hemmed in so close that scarce the air may pass  
Betwixt the cliffs, is not so free from doubt,  
As is that King whom love doth guard about.  
Whom subjects love doth guard, because that he  
Guards them from all oppression, and makes free  
His noble favourers to desert and worth,  
Spreading his valiant virtues frankly forth,  
That both his own may find, and neighbours know,  
What glorious fruit doth from religion grow.  
How sweet an odor justice sends to heaven,  
How rare example is to Princes given,  
By virtuous deeds, to stop the mouths of those,  
Who vnreform'de are reformations foes.  
Such one sleeps safe within the arms of love,  
Divine regard doth all his subjects move  
To due obedience; and with sacred awe  
Binds conscience, with a stronger bond than law.  
Such heaven informs, whilst hell doth undermine,  
And spit● of darkest plots with grace divine  
Doth hedge about, that naked in the arms  
Of enemy's he is preserved from harms.  
They sleep securely, feed on wholesome cates,  
Angels their beds make, cooks their delicates  
Gives Antidotes 'gainst poisons, doth defend  
'Gainst damned w●tches and their God the fiend,  
No ●esuits at their elbows can do hurt,  
Nor troops of Papists that their courts engird.  
For God doth them in his blessed arms enclose,  
Safe, though their chiefest favourites were foes.   

O happy then good Kings proceed, ride on,  
Grow up in glory, as you have begun.  
Ride on for truth's sake, look on either hand,  
how you are guarded with a heavenly band  
Of blessed spirits, who shall lead you still  
●n holy paths, and guid● your steps from ill. 
Psal. 91.   
These being with you, you shall boldly tread  
Upon the Lion, and the Dragon's head,  
And trample danger underneath your feet,  
As men tread stones, or dirt within the street,  
Which only spraids them; your heaven-garded state  
●s safer far, then that of Mithridate,  
The King of Pontus, unto whom befell,  
What strange adventure in this tale I tell.   

This King perceiving well there was no band, 
Aelianus.   
Of duty, love, or nature, could withstand  
The strong enticement of corrupting gold,  
Or base lust, or humour overbold,  
Or fond ambition (which makes empty slaves  
Swim bladder borne upon the floating waves  
Of false Opinion, with the arm of pride,  
Of borrowed power, and ignorance beside)  
But that these would pervert the faith they had,  
And cause them after farther hopes run mad;  
Did to prevent all this, a guard provide  
Of faithful beasts, whose strength had oft been tried.  
A Bull, a Horse, a Hare, the Captains were,  
Of this strong guard, whose force did nothing fear  
But falsehood, and Ingratitude, and Treason,  
From which they were as free, as man from reason  
Why knowing more than beasts, he should not hate  
As they do, to be treacherous, and ingrate.   

These three together being put to feed,  
And sport themselves till there were farther need  
Of their known faith, together long did dwell  
In peace and love, till on a time it fell  
That they with rest and ease full fed and fa●,  
Had time to play, to dally, and to chat.  
Then did the wanton heart propound a course,  
Betwixt himself and the courageous Horse.  
The warlike Horse did dare the horned Bull  
To make one in the race, who strait way full  
Of burning choler, and adusted blood,  
Bad cowards run, he for no footman stood.  
'twas meet for them that durst not stand it out,  
To use their heels, his heart was too too stout.   

The angry heart replies, there's none of you,  
But may to me as to your better bow,  
I swifter than the Horse, my feet can use,  
And for my head, the Bull i'll not refuse  
To combat with, my courage I am sure  
Is like my strength as able to endure,  
And do, as either of you dare or can,  
And more I am esteemed by royal man.  
Those Serpents which you run from, I seek forth,  
And tear them with my teeth as nothing worth.  
And as my life to man is sweet and pleasing,  
So is my death, each part some sorrow easing.  
My horns all mortal poison can expel,  
My marrow makes stiffe-jointed misers well.  
My fat yields strength and sweetness; that fierce lad  
Achilles, never other spoonemeat had.  
Which made him such a Captain, every part  
Is physical and comforteth the heart.  
Yea even my excrements the dropsy cures,  
My tears, like precious jewels, man allures.  
To seek them up, wheresoever they be shed.  
My skin great Captains wear when I am dead;  
And boast that they have such a coat of proof,  
Which wounds withstands, whence venom stands aloof.  
Then why) O base creatures) dare you brag  
And match yourselves with the long living Stag?  
My life is long, cause I with cost am wrought,  
But nature slights your lives, as good for nought.   

The crested Horse, with fiery eyes did show,  
What inward rage did in his hot blood flgw  
To hear this bold speech uttered, and with head  
Tost in the air his hardened hooves doth tread  
The scorned earth with contempt, than thus breaks out;   

O thou fearful of all the rout  
Of hunted beasts, how haps it that you dare  
With me your master and your Lord compare?  
Forget ye my pre-eminence? the love  
Man bears me? how one spirit seems to mo●e  
Me and my rider? that we start and run,  
Stop, turn, trot, amble, as we were but one?  
Have you at any time been called to war,  
Where none but Captains and great Soldiers are?  
Trusted to hear their Counsels? on your back  
Borne the Commander of that royal pack?  
I have done this and more, borne him about  
Through worlds of danger, and then borne him out  
He trusts me when his legs he dare not trust,  
And when his hand, fail them perform I must.  
Nay when he fails himself in every part,  
I add another life, another heart.  
In war I thus befriend him, in his need,  
And so in peace, I help his wants to feed.  
I till this land that else would barren be,  
Bear all his carriage, and am seldom free  
From some employment, but must near him stand  
As being fit, and apt for his command.  
If he to visit friends abroad doth far,  
I must along with him, true friends we are.  
If he intends to hunt such beasts as you,  
For sport, or hate, or need, he lets me know  
The time, the place, the end, and we agree●  
I see the sport, and hunt as well as he.  
How often have I seen some fearful heart,  
Perhaps your ●ire, at my dread presence start;  
Fly hence with utmost speed, and never slack  
His willing pace, when I upon my back  
Bearing my noble master have at length  
O'retane the lubber, having lost his strength?  
Whilst I still foaming courage, breathing spirit,  
Have sought another conquest long ere night;  
And after that a third, unwearied yet,  
Yet you yourself as Parallel will set  
To match and overmatch my worth, my force;  
As if weak Stags might brave the peerless Horse.  
For physical receipts easily yield,  
Alive I profit man, you being ●ild,  
This makes him seek your death, my life to save,  
Yet being dead my parts their virtues have.  
Which I refer to others to relate●  
As scorning Hog-like to do good so late.  
This only I conclude, If man should choose  
To save but one, he'd both of you refuse.   


●sal. 54●  The armed Bull swelled, pu●t and roared aloud,  
To hear ●he heart so bold, the Horse so proud.  
And all the while they spoke, he tossed about  
With horns and hooves the dust; then bellowd out  
This bolder brave; What ignorance is this,  
That causeth both of you, so much amiss  
To boast your false worths, and neglect the true,  
Which res●s in me, belongs to none of you?  
The Wolf, the Greyhound, and ●ach questing cur,  
Makes thee poor trembling heart keep such a stir.  
To shift thy layer, as if thy life were lost,  
With every faint blast, that the leaves down tost●  
And this courageous Horse, that makes a coil,  
Of wounds in war, and tilling o● the soil,  
With many other uses fit for man,  
(As they that least can do, best cavil can)  
Let this his answer be, the spur and bit  
Shows man trusts not his courage, nor his wit.  
For if he tire or faint, his spur provokes,  
And pricks him forward, with continual strokes.  
And if with headstrong heat, he madly rides,  
The bridle curbs him, and his folly guides.  
" All voluntary acts the actors praise,  
" Not such as others by constraint do raise.  
" Out of our natures, whilst we easily are  
" Made instruments either of peace, or war●  
Else might our horned Herds, the rescue boast  
Of Hannibal and his distressed host, 
Plut●r● in vita Han.   
When he with lights and torches tied to us,  
Escaped the trap, of lingering Fabius.  
But truth is far from such ostents, those deeds 
Cunctando restitui● rem Enniu●   
We call our own, which from our choice proceeds.  
The yoke we bear, and wherewithal we till  
The earth for man, is by constraint, not will●  
What comfort from our flesh, or from our Cows,  
By calves, or milk, or Cheese or Butter flows,  
Or physical receipts, as they are more,  
And usefuller, than what you both before  
Have mentioned, so freely I confess  
Man hath in them the glory more or less.  
His wit and industry, in them is seen,  
And th' Author's goodness from whom first we been,  
War is the good you glory in, which springs  
From man's ambitious ignorance, and brings  
Wants, woe, and death, with many ills beside,  
To scourge us all, through ou● great master's pride.  
Then at the best, you are but slaves to such,  
As feeding you, food to thei● like do grudge.  
And through your force, their own revengements take,  
Whilst you to stout men; cowards equal make●  
For what from you they borrow, they must grant  
They fear their foes enjoy, whilst they do want.  
Thus therefore all the nobler nations use  
To sight on foot, whilst coward rather choose  
To share with beasts in glory, and to get  
Themselves a name, through your fool hardy heat.  
So you on them, and they on you depend,  
Such service judgement never did commend.  
And thus in sportive war, and warlike sport,  
You do your rider from himself transport.  
Whilst you not manlike grow, but beastlike he  
Resembles you, in all these sports we see.  
Yea often to mischance you do betray  
Your heedless rider, and in midst of play  
Precipitate his sudden fortune so,  
That who hath you a fai●nd, shall need no 〈◊〉  
But may himself, a happy man proclaim,  
If by your means he escapes without a maim.  
But now if either of you, think you can,  
Out of your own worths, prove more fit for man,  
And better able to defend, and guard,  
Him whom we serve, from whom we have reward,  
Then I can with my horns, and harnast hide,  
Proceed to trial, I defy your pride;  
And with bold challenge summon you to fight,  
A triple combat, to decide the right.   

They both with eager appetite accept  
These wished conditions, and by this have stepped  
For from each other; all prepared do stand  
At full career, to join this treble band.  
The field triangle wise they evenly cast,  
And each with rage expects, that dreadly blast,  
Which warns them charge. Each roareth out his wrath,  
Nor other need of drums or trumpets hath.  
The heart doth bray, the bounding Steed doth neigh,  
The Bull doth bellow, deep, and loud and high.  
The earth doth tremble, and the air doth shun,  
This dreadful thunder; as when laden gun  
Spits forth its load, in scorn to be restrained,  
The air gives way unto the bullets chained,  
As dreading to resist so mighty force,  
Thus meet the valiant Bull, the heart and Horse.   

The heart and Horse first touch tha'ppointed place  
Being more swift, and apt for the race.  
And let each other, with much dange● feel  
The force of horned head, and armed heel.  
But ere a second bout they can perform,  
In comes the boisterous Bull, like winter's storm,  
And severs them with such a violent push,  
That they amazed, turn giddy with the rush.  
But (nimble both and active they repay  
The sturdy Bull, with all the speed they may.  
The heart with his broadhornes, doth make him reel●  
But the kind Horse, upholds him with his heel.  
The Bull thanks neither, for the one did pierce  
His hollow flank, the other much more fierce,  
Did break a rib, and bruise his shoulder blade,  
And taught him with less choler to invade.  
Yet th'ods is soon recovered with his horn,  
Which hath the belly of the Courser torn.  
And rend one weaker beam, from branched heart,  
As trees by thunder riven, or cloven athwart.  
The subtle heart, then shuns those ruder blows,  
And tho'ds of handistrokes too dear knowest  
The Horse taught by his wounds, doth keep aloof,  
And stands upon defence, with hardened hoof.  
The Bull assaults them both with watchful eye,  
And seeks how he advantages may spy.  
The Horse and heart upon their guard do stand,  
In doubt and jealousy, on either hand.  
The Bull assaults the heart, but he gives way,  
And slips his fury with what slight he may.  
Yet turns not head, as fearful cowards will,  
But wefes aside, to tire his foe with skill.  
The Bull than strikes the Horse a deadly cuff,  
But he requites him with a counterbuff.  
The heart strikes in betwixt, the Bull turns round,  
The Horse leaps right up, doth curvet, and bound;  
So at one instant, fatally they me●te;  
The Bull his death meets from the Horse's feet.  
The heart th' advantage takes, the ●orse aloft  
Strikes his one horn into his belly soft,  
Which there hangs fast; the Horse doth with his fall.  
Breaks the Heart's neck, this is the end of all  
None hath the conquest, all of them are slain.  
Their deaths not doubted, long they there remain,  
Till that the King their Master, having need  
Of their attendance, goes his guard to feed,  
For none might tend them else, lest they acquainted  
With others bribes, by treason should be tainted.   

So enters he the place, and there he spies  
What doth affright him, all his comfort lies  
Dead at his feet, then sadly going near  
Their carrion corpses, he doth a murmur hear,  
As armed soldiers in a City sound,  
Or fire in th'air, or wind within the ground.  
And doubting the success, three several swarms  
He sees prepared for fight, and up in arms.  
Bees from the Bull, Wasps from the Hors● do start,  
And Hornets from the melancholy Hart.   

He motion's peace, and hopes to part the fray,  
They send three soldiers, who sends him away.  
For each of them doth fix his venomed sting,  
Wit●in the flesh of the amazed King.  
He flies with speed from thence, they fight it out;  
The conquest all expect, all fear and doubt.  
But what befell I know not; this I know,  
The King cried out aloud. The evils that grow 
Epimithium.   
From pride, ambition, and excess of grace,  
" Like thankless curs, fly in their master's face.  
" Beasts will be beasts, do bounty what it can,  
" 'tis cast away, that's given to worthless man.   

O Princes banish faction from the Court,  
It sours all actions, leavens every sport.  
And at the last, when it should sweetly close,  
From one false friend riseth a thousand foes.   
FINIS.