A WIFE, NOT READY MADE, BUT BESPOKEN, BY DICUS the Bachelor, and made up for him by his fellow Shepherd TITYRUS.  
In four Pastoral Eglogues.  
The second Edition: Wherein are some things added but nothing amended.  

All Husbands that do laugh or weep,  
Read over this before you sleep;  
Here's virtue in each line and letter,  
To make both good and bad Wives better:  
But they that are resolved for none,  
Were better let this Book alone,  
Lest seeing here the good of Wives,  
They change their Votes for married Lives.   
LONDON, Printed for A. R. 1653.   

TO My Honoured Good Friend Sr Robert Stapleton.  

THou that enjoyest the happiest life  
That ever mortal lead with Wife,  
Who so in goodness doth transcend,  
She neither needs nor can amend:  
Were I as thou, sure I should fear  
That I my Heaven on Earth had here,  
And that which is a sadding story,  
Must bide as long in Purgatory:  
To thee, this Wife will needs address  
To mediate her a Patroness,  
For well she knows thou dost excel  
In knowing more than she cantle,  
And that of Females thou art Master,  
And wilt trust none to be thy taster.  
Of thy great Learning none makes doubt,  
Thou them within know'st as without,  
The greatest Scholars ever deign  
The Sonnets of a Sheephards' Swain.   
R. A.   

Lectori Caelibi. To the single Reader.  

THou with this Wife in Bed mayst lie  
Yet not commit Adultery,  
And though twice twelve empaneled men should find  
Thee guilty, and thy Judges be inclined  
To hang or head thee, for a sinful fact  
Thou shalt avoid the fury of the Act:  
In Curia rectus thou mayst boldly stand  
From dread of Whip or burning in the Hand;  
Abandon Her, she will be well content  
To wave her right and claim to Aliment;  
Nor can the Remedies the Law affords  
'Gainst force and Rape or wresting from her words  
She'll not Inflame the pimping Tailors score,  
To make her such a wagtayl as jane shore.  
Like Act of Pardon penned with finest skill  
She is a Wife and no Wife at thy will;  
A Hochos Pocos tide with such a noose  
Thou at thy pleasure mayst play fast and lose;  
Behold her well, she favours at a glance  
That specious Selfdenying Ordinance.   
J. H.   

The two married Shepherds T. and D. to R. and G. Bachelors.  

YOu both secure in harbour sit,  
And smile at our experienced wit:  
Who plead at Bar before our Wives,  
For Liberties and quiet lives:  
Such Bliss did only Jove obtain,  
That Greeks and Trojanes on the plain,  
From Ida's top, did fight see,  
In far less danger there, than we.  
You move above in single spheres,  
And sport with jealousies and fears  
Of married folks, and household care:  
Your flocks the better surely far.  
The single man no weather feels  
But rising, in the night, all seels,  
To's dearest Lambs doth duly look,  
Bears he a Tinned or Silver Crook.  
Sweet Milk and Honey is his diet.  
His Physic true content and quiet,  
A soup of Cider or brisk Perry  
Will make his heart all blithe and merry:  
And going to his dreadless nest,  
Finds nothing there to break his rest,  
But on a Couch of moss and leaves,  
All worldly Cares and thought deceives.  
His sleep as sweet as short: his dreams  
Of flowery banks, or silver streams,  
Thence early up, in open air  
He leads his flocks through pastures fair,  
Where crystal brooks soft murmuring  
Invite his Heart to sleep or sing  
With Choristers, in neighbour groves,  
Who there recount their mutual loves.  
You Bachelors live merry lives,  
But we'll not change, that have good Wives.   

IF he that hath charactered out a Wife,  
Might see her practic part thus drawn to life,  
He could not but with shouts and acclamation,  
Prefer thy practice to his contemplation:  
So dost thou branch her out in every line,  
That only thou deserv'st she should be thine:  
Oh! were't thou single now, and free, as I,  
No woman, shouldst thou ask, could thee deny;  
So powr'fully hast thou their cause defended,  
And highly, as they well deserve, commended:  
Such goodness thou descri'st in woman kind,  
As never any could before thee find.   
G. H.   

To the Courteous READER.  

BE thou yoa'kd or single man,  
Show her fellow if thou can,  
One may chance seek all his life,  
Yet not find out such a Wife,  
May her Parallel be shown,  
Take her Reader for their own.   
DICUS   

A WIFE.  

The first Eglogue.  Speakers: Dicus, Tityrus. Dicus. 
GOod Tityrus! what shall I do?  
I love, yet am afraid to woo,  
Such freedom is in single life,  
I dread the yoking with a Wife;  
For now I revel, sing and play,  
Go where I list each Holiday,  
Laugh, caroll, pipe: thus blithe and merry,  
I to my Lambs sing hay down derry:  
But if I once turn married man,  
Then say or do I what I can,  
All is too little her to please,  
I fain would wive, yet live at ease;  
I hear some married men, that say,  
That wives will browbeat all the day,  
At night within the curtains preach,  
And men must learn what they do teach;  
Against this how may I provide?  
They best can teach us that have tried.  Tityrus. 
If she within the curtains chide,  
My head within the sheet I hid,  
And either to my prayers fall,  
Or on the Musing Sisters call,  
To help me sing, or else to weep,  
Till in the end I fall asleep:  
Then Great Apollo in a Dream,  
Forbids me strive against the stream;  
By stirring I much dust may raise,  
The lowering Morn's prove fairest days:  
Good Housewives when their pot boils over,  
To cool the Broth take off the cover,  
The simple make it seethe up higher,  
By laying fuel on the fire.  
Thus sweeten I a married life,  
And when I wake behold my Wife  
As kindly falls within mine Arms,  
As if she never meant me harms.  Dicus. 
This Counsel only they can follow,  
Who are acquainted with Apollo,  
But many Husbands find a shrew,  
That never did Apollo know,  
Nor ever supped at the Well  
By which the Musing Sisters dwell.  Tityrus. 
Why! Dicus they may fail to pray,  Dicus. 
That's for the night: But how by day?  
Must I demean to stint all strife,  
With whom I must spend all my life?  Tityrus. 
Indeed it is the depth of skill,  
To lead a Woman by her will:  
For sure there is no other way,  
But let them have their do and Say.  
The Art is to incline them so,  
They may aright both Say and Do.  
Else do I know no other fence,  
But use the Buckler Patience.  
A man may offer with the Waster,  
But 'tis not good to strike the Master  
At School; and it is the Scholars end  
To learn no more than how to fend.  Dicus. 
If thus it be with married life,  
'Tis best to be without a Wife.  Tityrus. 
Thus Husbands say, yet marry seven,  
As some by Crosses come to Heaven:  
The wrecked Merchant under Lea,  
A second venture makes to Sea;  
And I have heard some Husbands tell,  
That they of Wives do like so well,  
Of which they one by one had store,  
That they could wish as many more.  
What cause hath Dicus then to doubt them?  
That sees so few can live without them.  Dicus. 
Sure now I think the greatest blame  
In men thus women to defame:  
Their goodness he knows best that tries them,  
But to be good no man denies them.  
They sure are good by night or day,  
At bed or board, at work or play,  
To follow, or to go before,  
Abroad, or else within the door;  
Things are they which men still have need on,  
But they are best of all to breed on:  
The worst Wives are not so ill wrought,  
But they are good, though good for nought:  
Men err when they would have them all  
Just like their looks, Angelical,  
(And yet we read of Angel's pride)  
She is a rib of thine own side:  
That which is pure in her, lo she  
Derives from Heaven, the rest from thee.  Tityrus. 
Faith Dicus, now thy Fate I see,  
Thou soon a married man wilt be.  
This Tale among the Gossips tell,  
And they will like thee all so well,  
(For to be praised all rejoice)  
That thou of Wives must have thy choice.  
But look to't well, thou art of age,  
Prove not like sullen Bird in Cage,  
Forbear thy meat, and loathe satiety,  
And long again for free variety.  
Oh! be not like the Fish that plays  
About the Leap, in love with Gays,  
But soon as he is in, would fain  
Get out but never can again.  Dicus. 
If so, I shall not be alone,  
To thee I'll never make my moan.  Tityrus. 
Nor t'any else, if thou be wise,  
As thou hast got, so keep thy Prize;  
Look ere thou leap, complaining after  
Will with thy friends breed nought but laughter.  
An honest, cheerful, constant life  
Will better both thyself and Wife.  
But we met here this morning soon,  
And now my shadow says 'tis noon;  
At Bed nor Board, if thou wilt marry,  
Thou must not make thy wife to tarry.  Dicus. 
This is the only way to teach,  
When men will practise what they preach.  
How glad am I of this good hap,  
To see thy Precepts in a Map.  
What's here in colours, to the life  
I'll practise when I have a Wife.  
Farewell: I feel my stomach chime,  
With Melibe 'tis dinner time.   

The second Eglogue.  Speakers, Dicus, Tityrus. Dicus. 
NOw Tityrus, I try and find  
A Wife agreeing to my mind;  
My joys reflected doubled are,  
She shareth half my Grief and Care,  
In what she joys, I joy no less,  
Thus double we our happiness.  
In all things we communicate,  
And come I early home, or late,  
She always ready hath to fit  
Me with some sweet warm dainty bit.  
I find it now the only life,  
To be thus wedded to a Wife.  
Lo, I do get, and she doth spare,  
Abroad I, she at home takes Care,  
A married life's a Haven of bliss,  
Which who wants, half himself doth miss;  
My veins now fresher blood do breed,  
I with a better stomach feed.  Tityrus. 
It is a Rule observed of all,  
Take off the Common to the Stall  
A Beast, and he will better thrive,  
As Bees best gather in a hive.  
Good Dicus, boast not yet too soon,  
It is with thee but Honeymoon:  
When I to School went, than a child,  
My Master first was gentle, mild,  
Yet after he would sound pay  
Me four or five times in a day:  
We men like fools are pleased with change,  
And at the first new Wives are strange;  
Fierce Mastiffs that at home will fight,  
Abroad will neither bark nor by't;  
Weak Cocks away the stronger chase,  
Till they be wont to the place.  
Thou never shalt her Nature know,  
Till she with thee familiar grow.  
Then mayst thou find true old complaints,  
Some wives look like, that prove no Saints.  
Before the Sun comes round about,  
Thy certainty may turn to doubt,  
And Hymen now so frolic grown,  
In other Posture may be shown.  Dicus. 
For mine own part I do not fear,  
My Wife will hold out all the year:  
For certain she is strait and right,  
The same at morning, noon and night.  Tityrus. 
I wish she prove to thy desire,  
That all our Wives may her admire,  
For sure most Wives are like the Moon,  
That altars Morning, Night, and Noon,  
She never doth from changing cease,  
But is in Wanes, or in Increase;  
Yet let it not to thee seem strange,  
Thou feelest not sensibly her change:  
Thou seest not shadows how they move,  
Till Motion plain itself doth prove:  
Observe her well, thy wife will clear  
This Paradox within the year.  Dicus. 
Thou findest such faults in married life,  
I wonder why thou took'st a Wife.  Tityrus. 
Sure even as thine, it was my Fate,  
And now Repentance comes too late,  
Some manage can the cursedest Dog,  
The Ape makes merry with his clog,  
The Haggard proves best once reclaimed,  
And metalled Horses rightly tamed.  
I freely for my part protest,  
Of all I know mine likes me best,  
And I should take it for a curse,  
To make a change, and have a worse.  
And truly, not to be her debtor,  
Not one of twenty hath a better:  
Yet for her sake I cannot strain,  
To say 'tis fair when it doth rain;  
Before I Amorett can decline,  
All Well breaks up, the Sun doth shine.  
Fate ne'er good haps by handfuls brings,  
From out the bad we pick good things.  Dicus. 
Oh now thou cogg'st for fear or favour,  
We'll bind thee to thy good behaviour:  
It much doth go against my mind,  
To hear least ill of womankind:  
Delights of youth, for Middle-age  
Companions, Nurses for the Sage!  
So necessary are all good Wives,  
Not one amongst a hundred thrives  
Without them; They preserve at home  
Whatsoever from abroad doth come.  Tityrus. 
Some call them tackled Ships and Barges,  
Some as they count them Bills of Charges;  
Some the Armies Baggage, Stuffe and Tents,  
Most useful, yet Impediments;  
And they that on their tongues dare jest,  
With Aesop call them worst and best.  
In fine, all scruples to remove,  
The Best and Worst are as they prove.  Dicus. 
Mine proves already passing well.  Tityrus. 
You me another Tale may tell  
Some twelvemonth hence, God give you joy,  
And ere that send a goodly Boy.  Dicus. 
Which being weaned, the Summer after,  
God send me like my Wife a Daughter.   

The third Eglogue.  Speakers, Battus, Dorus. Dorus. 
GOod day, my Friend, how frolic dost thou far?  
Fresh cheerful Gallant free from worldly care,  
As thou wert beaverd up with Ale and Cakes,  
And fed with healing Flesh of Indian Snakes,  
Wedlock abates the flesh, and fills the purse,  
Sure thou hast got a Loving tender Nurse.  Battus. 
My Wife so she may keep the Purse,  
Is sure a sweet indulgent Nurse,  
And for me every Meal provides,  
Twelve Dishes with good Sauce besides,  
Four Fowl, four fruit; and four of Fish,  
Come fuming on her Chafing-dish;  
Her Woodcock, Bitter, Quail and Rail,  
No season of the year do fail;  
Her Carp, her Gudgeon, Lump and Pout,  
She carves to all the Board about;  
Her Fruit as Fish are ay in season,  
Crab, Medlar, Artichoak, Small Reason,  
Besides Green Salads neatly dressed,  
Of which she Pursline liketh best;  
And though I with such cheer am fed.  
I oft go supperless to bed:  
Where she for me alone unshown  
Preserves a warm bit of her own,  
To take for my best health and ease,  
Even, Morning, Midnight, as I please;  
And if I Flesh refrain, her zeal  
Boils up for me a Salmon-Peal:  
Me trust, this is a true Relation,  
No Bachelor hath such accommodation.  Dorus. 
Sure thou dost live a gallant Lordlike life,  
With such a curious Cater, Cook, and Wife;  
Who raw, boiled, baked, she still with so small costs  
Provides, and never fails to rule the Roast:  
I could not think a Shepherd's Swain were able  
To furnish with such rarities his Table.  Battus. 
Bachelors get exceed now and then,  
But not such constant Meals as Married men,  
They seldom have them in due time and place,  
Or to them, after, or before say grace,  
Fall to My Friends, be merry, do not spare,  
You'll find few married men have better Far;  
Who for his Friend prepares a costly Feast,  
Himself harms more by half then good his Guest.  Dorus. 
If as thou sayest this be a Husband's diet,  
Give me a dinner of green Herbs with quiet,  
I better like one dish with single life,  
Then all these choicest dainties with a Wife.  
An Herd-boys life precedes a Lady's Page,  
Give me full Flight, I hate a guilded Cage.  Battus. 
Ploughman prefer their Pudding to a Banquet.  
The Sow you well know what before a Pan-cake;  
Bachelors have good things but oft misguided,  
A Wife is neat and never unprovided:  
Besides you take your Meals most what by halves,  
And boast that change of Pasture makes fat calves:  
But certain 'tis a Beast thrives best of all  
Put off the Common to the several:  
A good Wife surely is a greater treasure,  
Then all the choice and costly Dames of pleasure.  Dorus. 
And I esteem my Phillida with measure  
Above her thou dost count so rich a treasure:  
Yet let it not my Friend to thee seem strange  
Men are as Women often given to change,  
A bone of Fish makes Flesh a better meal,  
The changes always is the sweetest peal;  
A Perch or Gudgeon pulled up by my hook  
Tastes sweeter than a Pullet from the coop;  
A Rook scarce fledg taken new out of the nest  
Eats tend'rer then a Pheasant at a feast:  
'Tis good advice to young men given to tarry,  
And to an old man not at all to marry:  
Certes my friend 'twould vex me to the life,  
A Cuckold to be made by mine own Wife,  
Whereof I by the Courtesy must stand  
Seized for my term of Life as of her Land.  
Wives are as Haggards, which Men lure at ease,  
But they'll come in or lie out as they please:  
We must be always subject to their check,  
And if we'll stand in grace must come at beck;  
Not sit up late at night not rise too soon,  
Must sure come home at dinner just at noon,  
Which hour she keeps, as Cynthia firm and steady,  
That is as soon as she is up and ready.  
If she Recuse, to Church she must not come;  
If she'll to Church he must not stay at home;  
And if the Fit or humour on her come,  
she'll neither go to Church nor stay at home:  
One bed holds both so long as they be One:  
If out, th'whole house too streights for her alone.  
When 'tis her pleasure to go out and play,  
New clothes must on and all keep Holy day;  
And when she home returns I'll do her right,  
she'll make her maids sit up and work all night.  
If thou alone into thy Study look,  
She must come in and be thy only Book;  
To be mine Almanac I well could bear,  
So should I have a new one every year.  
We of a certain Man do read, but no man  
Did ever tell us of a certain Woman;  
Yet this I do advertise all good fellows,  
To shun the fainting Fit they call the yellows,  
For which (besides it Men objects to scorn)  
Wives know no cure but drink out of a Horn.  Battus. 
Upon my Oath our Justice without hearing,  
For this would bind thee to thy good abearing,  
His Wife for not reforming such a fault  
Will never trust him more to grind her malt:  
Now fie I am ashamed to hear thee preach  
Of things which are so far above thy reach;  
Like our Jack-daw, who when his News do fail  
To his good Dames doth on his betters rail,  
Clay lands breeds whitest wheat so you it till,  
That Wife is good that's not extremely ill;  
Thou talk'st of Robin-hood, thou dost not know  
Nor ever yet shotst shaft out of his bow,  
Why shouldst thou thy great Grandams Daughter snib,  
Thou moulded art of dirt, she of a rib,  
Themselves their Husbands and their meat they dress well,  
Worst you can say, They are the weaker vessel;  
Some praise, some blame them, much adoe's about them.  
Few men can well live with them, none without them.  Dorus. 
Let me this story for our Teacher borrow,  
To tell it at our meeting place to morrow;  
For though he by th'whole hour can homely pray,  
He little or nothing to his Text can say:  
Set prayer he abhors as works of merit,  
And method is too costive for his spirit;  
This matter's to his purpose who contrives  
To be a powerful man with all your Wives:  
But lo the Sun clad in a scarlet gown  
Looks biggest at us at his going down;  
The Birds that early with his light arose,  
Do wanting use of eyes their eye lids close.  Battus. 
If Sun sets in a cloud we shall have rain;  
Look all our flocks are scattered on the plain.  Dorus. 
Sweet Battus, prove it fair or rainy weather,  
Lets fouled our flocks though not our heads together,  
I'll home and sleep in cottage void of strife.  Battus. 
And I in th'Arms of my sweet loving Wife.  Dorus. 
To morrow I will come and see her Feast,  Battus. 
And welcome in good earnest or in jest;  
But if thou wouldst continue in her favour,  
See thou be constant to thy good behaviour.  Dorus. 
But what if I bring Tityrus along?  Battus. 
He can us sing a pastoral sweet Song.  Dorus. 
In youth he could both carol, dance and play,  
But with his head, his wit gins to grey;  
Like skilful Lech his Patient he can please,  
Yet be in open war with his disease:  
Malignant humours purged by golden Pill  
Improve a Wife by giving her her will.  Battus. 
When his Grand-master Melibaus died,  
His Freaks and Frolicks all were laid aside.  Dorus. 
Such mirth is most extremely good at Feasts,  
Some Fools are cured by precepts some by jests:  
His labours vain against the stream that strives,  
Good Husbands only know to make good wives.   

The fourth Eglogue.  Speakers, Battus, Dorus, Tityrus. Battus. 
THis Morn my Wife and I did rise,  
Before the Stars set in the skies.  Dorus 
Which made Aurora blush so red,  
To see Sun up and she in Bed:  
This morning's redness certainly declares,  
This heat ere night will melt in Floods of tears;  
But whilst our Flocks are feeding here's a bower,  
In this fair Oak will shelter from a shower,  
Whilst Tityrus whom I have brought along,  
Delights our Ears with Pastoral and Song.  Tityrus. 
In younger years (which I remember still)  
I once lay flumbring on Parnassus' Hill,  
Where surely I a sounder nap had taken,  
Had I not been with hideous noise awaken;  
I thought of Wolves, but proved close by th● 〈◊〉,  
Fierce Mastiffs full of jealousies and fears:  
Upon fresh trail they bellow out like thunder,  
And all within their dint like lightning plunder;  
They cry in Kirk and State for Reformations,  
Thereby to make ours their own Habitations;  
They this pretend for good of all our Lambs,  
Devouring all our Kiddies with their Dams;  
God on the dwellings hath his justice shown,  
They that did covet ours have lost their own;  
May never such devouring greedy hounds  
Uncoupled be again on English grounds:  
Be's name to all posterity a scorn,  
That first up to this hunt did wind his Horn.  Dorus. 
What this to thee? these stirs far North were made,  
Thou Tityrus layst safe here under shade.  Tityrus. 
It is my nature, I more inly groan,  
For others sufferings, then at mine own:  
My bowels yern, my heart within doth bleed,  
To hear th'ill brought on them and their Seed.  Dorus. 
I feared at first, thou out of discontent,  
Hadst shot thy Bolt 'gainst present Government.  Tityrus. 
I loathe to make my Governors a mark,  
No gentle dog will at his Keeper bark,  
They certain that above the Stern do steer,  
Great Atlas' burdens on their shoulders bear,  
I envy not the States that highest be,  
Let me enjoy my self and conscience free;  
The Powers that are, be by the Heavens ordained,  
And none but by that Power can be maintained:  
They feed my Lamb from Wolves and Tigers, I  
Can scarce preserve them from the Fox and Fly;  
These and the like so heavily me press,  
For Muse scared ne'er put on comely dress;  
I broke my Pipe, forbear my Lute to string,  
So as in tune I have forgot to sing.  Dorus. 
Yet Tityrus to imp the wings of Time  
Thou happily remember mayst some Rhymes  
In praise of Wives, for thou hast married three,  
For Battus two, too many, three for me,  
He hath but one, and would learn how to use her,  
I none, and therefore fain would learn to choose her.  Tityrus. 
We old men most ambitious are to tell,  
Of what in youth we think we have done well,  
Then give me leave to tell you mine own Story,  
Not for mine own but for the praise and glory  
Of all good Wives; who from what I relate  
May take a Pattern mine to imitate:  
Most edifying Stories are the Lives  
Of Saints and Martyrs, so of all good Wives;  
I being young and of myself inclined  
To add a second body to my mind,  
First by the Eyes was catcht, then by the Ears,  
For that admired sweet consort of the spheres,  
To Hers fictitious was; an Angel's voice  
In Ivory case did even my soul rejoice;  
A Western gale blew me on this good hap  
Jove never showered gold in a softer lap.  
Our wooing was not long, mine and her friends,  
Our fancies had disposed to self same ends,  
So I soon that great Kesars' fortune run  
I came, I saw her and was overcome.  
No sooner I enjoy her but I find  
Her beauteous outside was unto her mind  
No other than a prison, which the rays  
Of Light Celestial all within begays,  
To hear her talking was a miracle,  
Yet all she uttered was an Oracle;  
With sweetest graceful looks she all would teach,  
A good Divine she was yet would not preach;  
So pious that mine heart began to faint,  
Fearing I for a Wife had got a Saint.  Battus. 
Is't strange some Wives should be good Preachers seen?  
This Land was lately by a Maiden-Queen  
In peace maintained full forty years and more,  
So Sheba, Carthage, Swedes; and many a score;  
Your Abbesses do catechise and preach,  
Their Nuns as them rare works and manners teach.  Tityrus. 
Such Halcyon days ne'er were nor shall be seen,  
As in the Reign of that most glorious Queen.  Dorus. 
No fear of that I oft have heard it said,  
She-Saints abroad do prove best wives in Bed;  
Your strictest Matrons upon such a motion,  
We'll cool in zeal and lay by their devotion;  
I for most certain will relate a Story,  
One took a Sister by the Directory,  
Whose Brother dying and she left his Heir,  
He wedded her by Book of Common Prayer;  
By which is plainly given to understand,  
Less danger is in losing Wives then Land.  Battus. 
Fie Dorus, thou art much too blame to clatter,  
And tell a Story nothing to the matter;  
It argues them of spite and insolence,  
To interrupt the good Wife's Evidence.  Tityrus. 
She free obedience offered me as Head,  
I her all Honour at my board and bed;  
She wholesome meat, not costly, made my diet,  
My Coat was even a Paradise of quiet:  
When 'mongst the shepherdess she was seen,  
All justly her adored as their Queen:  
She as dear Sisters them did use and call,  
And in sweet humbleness outwent them all;  
When in a round they sat them down to sing,  
She triple was and Diamond in the Ring:  
My Coats chief Ornament by day by night,  
The golden Candlestick whence issues light;  
If aught she saw in others worth her heed,  
She practised, and her pattern aid exceed,  
For she not only knew but practised all  
The graces grown in her habitual.  Battus. 
If she transcended so in word and deed,  
Why is she gone and left none of her breed?  Tityrus. 
Heaven's would not so much for one mortal do  
As give him such a Wife and Children too,  
A loss not portable, but that we plain  
Discern our loss was her immortal gain;  
The God of Life when he did her deny  
A power to live, most willing made to die.  Dorus. 
Fie fit thou art too serious once I win,  
I heard thee tell then on a merry pin,  
Of managing young Colts and younger wives  
By gentle handling; who with either strives,  
Against their will, if they at their first taming,  
Get but a trick is difficult reclaiming;  
When thou hadst got within the Stable door,  
Thy Colt, thou first his Saddle laidst before  
Him in the Manger, than didst it on set  
To make him proud, ere thou presumest to get  
Up to his back, thou clawd'st him on the breast,  
And often clap't and coak'st him on the crest,  
And to secure from kicking wouldst not fail,  
To stroke and softly pull him by the tail;  
When thou hadst manned him then thy foot  
Before thou mount oft in the stirrup put:  
Yet foftly, lest him suddenly surprisng,  
Thou shouldst provoke to kicking back or rising;  
Thus up thou without stick or spur wouldst prove,  
How with thee as one body he could move,  
And fitting sure and easy in the Saddle,  
Thee jots no more then in a Couch or Cradle,  
And prancing under's load takes as great pleasure,  
As thou to ride, so thou put on with measure:  
So of a kitten teach a Cat to play,  
She will be loving to her dying day.  
But feed an old one that thou didst not hatch,  
She'll churlish grow and by the fingers scratch:  
That Wives well learned in tongues thereby became  
More crafty, as young Foxes bred up tame,  
And therefore all young Shepherd's didst advise,  
To take no Maids from th'Universities,  
Which Scholars did with so much Logic fill,  
They would by Syllogisms maintain their will,  
Nor heir to Land, for they will by their own  
Revenues make their will and pleasure known;  
Such Emblems home applied, would edify  
Us and our Wives,  Tit. 
applied thyself, not I;  
Such were the Observations of my youth,  
Which now I see are taken up for truth,  
To sport with Muses I do oft take leave,  
The miseries of old age to deceive,  
An ounce of mirth when I the time can spare,  
Is better than a pound of grief and care.  Dorus. 
This of thy second wife, how proud the first?  
Then all for better taken were and worst,  Tityrus. 
That which at first her friends and she did fear,  
Was manifest to us within the Year;  
A Hectic Fever her denied of breath,  
She was unparelleled in Life and Death.  Battus. 
What of thy third?  Tit. 
My Friend 'tis not the Fashion,  
To praise the ' live with Funeral Oration,  
Her heart I ought bedew with double tears,  
As she with me hath doubled both their years;  
If fates require that I shall stay behind her,  
I shall commend of her then as I find her,  
Neat, prudent, frugal, bountiful and grave:  Battus. 
Sure thou intendest a fourth wife to have.  Dorus. 
Soft Bat. For Tityrus I'll undertake,  
He'll never wed another for her sake;  
But lo the Sun comes to his Zenith nighest,  
And lest appears now he is mounted highest:  
But I believe it with thy wife is noon  
Her dinner's dressed betime she risen so soon.  
Come Tityrus thou must see her daily Feasts,  
Where we shall find more dishes far then guests.  Tityrus. 
Two dishes are a plentiful repast.  Dorus. 
There will be more than thou canst wish to taste;  
But lo, I Westward see the Welkin lowrs,  
Before thy wife hath dined there will be showers.  Battus. 
'Tis not the first time I have thus been wet,  
Make haste, the Dishes on the Board are set.  Dorus. 
Great Pan himself had never such a dinner,  
Prepared him at the charges of a spinner;  
She comes, let's first salute this comely Bride,  
Then Tityrus shall sit down by her side:  
We with our mirth will make thy Cottage ring,  
So will we make this dinner for a King.  

Some of Tityrus' Songs than sang by Dorus.  

A Mandee to Grammar Scholars.  

1 TO them that truly Learning prize and love,  
I wish each twig,  
Sweet as a Fig,  
The Ferula as soft as kidskin glove.   

2 In time of Seed no cost or labour spare,  
Who soweth cheap,  
Shall never reap  
Things admirable excellent and rare.   

3 One hour in in youth well spent may go for two,  
When we grow old,  
Our Study's cold;  
The things we learn in youth, in age we do.   

4 Loaves heavy prove that rise not in the Dough:  
Flowers in the prime,  
In far less time  
Than they in Summer or in Autumn grow.   

5 Look but before you plainly shall descry,  
Honours attend  
On them that spend,  
Their youth in sacred Muse's company.   

6 When they that follow worldly vain delight,  
In folly spend,  
What heavens do send,  
And set in mists of sad obscured night.   

7 Hence younger Brethers by their studies raise,  
Their House's name  
To Height of fame  
And build brave Monuments of lasting praise.   

8 Which th'Elder finding ready built to hand  
Their Genius please,  
In Sloth and Ease,  
Or waste in pride and riot, Goods and Land.   

8 Wherefore to him that truly Learning loves,  
In stead of twigs,  
I wish sweet Figs,  
For Ferula's perfumed Kidskin Gloves.    

To his little Valentine.  

A Pair of Gloves of Lambskin leather fine,  
I will bestow upon my Valentine.  
Who is as mild and gentle as a Lamb,  
For why? she sucked no other from her Dam;  
As white and clear as Lily of the Valley,  
Apt to delight, to leap, to bound, to dally,  
How like a Lamb, she only doth not creep,  
And there's good hope she'll never prove a Sheep;  
For so she should degenerate from her Mother:  
To such, if thou be wise, sue, to none other.    

To his Mistress.  

AS I in me, my Mistress fair did see,  
A picking Pipridges, my heart then free  
She stole away: Ah! knew she what she did?  
Picking and stealing is by death forbid.    

To the same.  

WHen I my love to Myra tell,  
She answers always well, well, well;  
That you can speak well I do know,  
But I'd fain learn how you will do.    

A Song.  

APocryphal are Stories not the Lives,  
Of valiant Judith and Susanna chaste;  
They have and shall be Patterns for good Wives,  
So long as any Womanhood shall last.   

No name like Sarah's is so dignified,  
By Moses in his world-creating Story,  
He tells her Beauty, Tomb, what age she died,  
Obedience to her Lord her greatest glory.   

But none th'Almighty doth so much regard  
As his meek Handmaid's Virgin-lowlinesse,  
By whom He for His people that prepared,  
For which all Generations shall Her bliss.   

Rebecca, Leah, Ruth, Vriah's Wife,  
Were silver Pipes for to convey the Seed  
To this Conduct, whence sprang the Lord of Life,  
Whose bruised heel should break the Serpent's head.  
All Stories read over and o'er again,  
You'll find more women bade then good of Men.   

The Pride of Scholars is to prove good Readers,  
The Crown of Women is to be good Breeders.    

A Suitor to his Mistress.  

A Strea that left Earth to Heaven to flee,  
Is now come back and Fair enshrined in thee,  
Not to return, but stay and on me shine,  
Enrich me thus, and all the world is mine:  
Regard a mortal whose faint soul aspires,  
Enlightened by the Beams celestial fire;  
(Compelled to be thy Convert) but to look  
His Lesson o'er in thy sweet Beauty's Book:  
Ohed be my Heaven on Earth, may I obtain  
Under thy Sceptre this my highest aim,  
The Golden Ball will prove lead to my gain.    

An Epitaph.  

THis Widow true to only one man's side,  
Might from her body count before she died  
More Scions than be days in longest year,  
This Honywood did all these Honeysuckles rear.    

His own Epitaph.  

Haec suprema Dies sit mihi prima quies.  
Lord let this last be my first day of Rest.       

A Pair of Turtles. Viz. Two Elegies on the Deaths of EDMUND ALLEYN Esquire, Son and Heir to Sir Edward Alleyn of Hatfield in Essex, Baronet, and MARY his Wife, left by him with Child, and died soon after her Delivery.  

The first Elegy.  

THe times of War and Peace this difference have,  
In Peace Sons Fathers follow to the grave;  
In War the Father mourneth for the Son,  
Here Peace and War do both agree in one.  
And surely Tears more plentifully fall,  
At children's then at Parent's Funeral,  
By which man's frailty's manifestly shown,  
Who wail not others losses but our own:  
For why should we with grief our hearts molest  
For them who quite from cares now live at rest,  
Or plain the shortness of their living day,  
Who unto Heaven have found a nearer way;  
And setting later out do on us gain  
With running, like Ahimaaz by the Plain?  
They that with diligence will heed their ways,  
Attain their Journeys end in fewer days  
Than he that by his oft diversions spends  
Much precious Time, in world's delight and friends,  
Or maketh in his Inn a longer stay,  
Whereby his Reckoning larger grows to pay.  
If here on Earth we ought to lay up store  
For Heaven, that our good deeds may go before,  
What comfort  be at our latter end,  
When Children we before us thither send,  
Who sitting by their sweetest Saviour's side,  
Us Mansions there, as we them here provide,  
Or rather enter on the habitation  
Provided for us, ere the world's foundation:  
Oh! what can add to their felicity,  
That see their Sons preferred before they die  
To higher states, than wishes can advance  
An endless glorious rich Inheritance?  
Of which the 
* Joseph.  Son of jacob's greatest glory  
Was but a Type, this lasts, that's transitory.  
In life thou never envied'st him content,  
Then do not his last happiness lament,  
Who would not change his state one hour to get  
The wealth and honour of a Baronet!  
Believe't thy Son is only gone before,  
Thou him must follow, he'll return no more.  
Then like that good old man thy soul revive,  
Thou hast enough, thy Son is yet alive,  

* Angels.  Heavens Chariots shall thee bring to Goshens plain,  
Where thou shalt living see thy Son again.    

The second Elegy.  

WHat many ancient Histories relate  
Of Turtles constant love unto their Mate,  
She did exemplify, and plainly prove,  
There is no life in living, but in Love.  
The miss whereof made her so much deplore  
Her Turtles loss, who only went before:  
Whom willing she had followed to the Tomb,  
But for the Treasure left her in the Womb,  
Which had it perished by such a cross,  
The world at once had suffered too much loss.  
Now, like another Phoenix of his seed,  
She first another like herself doth breed.  
Long didst thou look, and longing wish to move  
Up to thy Lodestar, which thou eyd'st above,  
But couldst not rise so high, till thou wert light,  
Then up to Heaven to him thou tak'st thy flight,  
As pure Steel needle ardently doth move  
To Loadstone, wherewithal it is in love.  
Why shouldst thou thus go out before thy date,  
And leave us to bewail thine early Fate?  
That all our gain such Virtues to have known,  
Turns loss so soon to see them from us flown:  
As Vines best Clusters soon off are pulled,  
And purest Gold from out the dross is culled;  
So oft the choicest Mortals in their prime,  
May seem hence snatched away before their time.  
But such fair Clusters on heavens board are served,  
The Gold to bear God's image is preserved.  
We here our sorrows breathe out to be read,  
That she in them may live, when we are dead,  
Who living well deserved she might die never,  
And by her dying here, to live for ever.  
Though both were short and sudden, her example  
In Life and Death is as a Volume ample,  
Where all may read aright to live and die,  
And follow her to true felicity.  
But why speak I of Death? her Body's frame  
Is only turned to dust, her virtue's fame  
Like fumes of burning Cedar doth ascend,  
And savour sweetest in her latter end.  
Ay let her blessed memory remain,  
To see if Wives hereafter can attain  
To her perfection: And these sabled Rhymes  
Be patterns for good Wives in following times.  
Thrice happy they that lay Corruption down,  
To gain that rich incorruptible Crown,  
Which them doth more assuredly attend,  
Who like her live, and dying like her end.  
And let one Tomb their ashes here contain,  
Who lived and loved as sure to meet again.  
They in the fair and in the stormy weather,  
Do fly, cry, die, and lie together.   

Our Days are likened to a Tale that's told.  
Which long and tedious grow as men grow old,  
The younger shorter tell: If Death once strike,  
The long and shorter Tales close both alike.  
I care not whether long or short I tell,  
So I can hit it right and end it well.   
FINIS.