Will: Bagnal's Ghost.  
Or the MERRY devil Of Gadmunton.  
In his perambulation of the Prisons of LONDON.  
By E. GAYTON, Esq;.  
LONDON, Printed by W. Wilson, for Thomas Johnson at the Golden-Key in St. Paul's churchyard. 1655.   

TO HIS WORTHY FRIEND Mr. GIFFORD, The Meriting Master of the Counter in the Poultry.  
Worthy Sir,  
(Unto whom being gone from you I am still a Prisoner, and obliged in grateful bands:) Suffer I pray si this escaped Bird out of your Cage (for there it was hatched and fledged) to return (like a Robin in the Winter) to warm itself, at your house, that is, to have the Protection of your Acceptance. I know the Proverb will bite me, and say I am an ill Bird (for defiling or rather publishing some undecencies of my late nest,) it is not Sir, with any intention to increase the dung, but cleanse the Augean Stable wherein your Herculean hands have laboured, and daily do, to the very great applause even of those who are not otherwise so well pleased with their Captivity. Nothing herein reflects upon any one personally, and not in the least thought upon yourself; The passages are true, the mirth innocent, the Author is as he shall always acknowledge himself to be Sir,  
Your grateful Servant E. G.   

Counter-work.  
NO more (will Bagnall) let thy tale  
Be read, of blades, who in their Ale,  
Did spew, and fight, and shit, and stale,  
Ith' scuffle.  
Whether in Wood-street it befell,  
Or in the Poultry, or in Hell,  
The places are alike, and smell,  
o'th' ruffle.  
It was our chance to be in one,  
Wherein I wrote thy name in stone,  
It is the monument alone  
There Written.  
And stands upon the two penny side,  
One pair of stairs, 'bove them that 'bide  
Ith' hole; by which a place is spied  
To shit in.  
Now (Will) thy name, and so thy verse,  
Deserves not to make Bumpkins terse,  
Although of Paper there is scarce.  
(For cleansing.)  
Yet as they did on top of Paul's,  
In thousand leaden scribble scrolls,  
I must be writing like those owls  
Non-sense-In.  
And having nothing in that place  
Of wit, snapped up (by a 
* One W. sergeant at Woodstreet.  hard face  
Had little silver but his Mace,)  
'Twas Copper.  
Tothth' very end of his red nose,  
I did myself in thee repose,  
And spent my time in verse and prose  
Most proper.  
But who shall ever find a night  
Like thine for Tipple, and for fight?  
Or who shall ever, so well write,  
Or fancy?  
When will concentre such a crew?  
Of captain, Parson, and of Lu—  
Ellis, and Lockwood that back flew  
White Tansey.  
No men will so resolved meet,  
To lose their own to make thy feet  
Famous through London and Fleetstreet  
And upward. s  
Beyond the devil, or the place  
Where once the Salutation was,  
And (now in Salts) old Charingcross  
On Cupp-boards.  
Where such a Lawyer as durst speak  
Both broken Latin, French or Greek)  
And thought himself in Law not weak,  
To Ellis.  
Ellis for arms and fisticuffs  
Beyond our Hectors, or the Buffs  
That vapour in their Ale at Huff's  
And tell lies.  
Where shall we find such men or meat,  
Which did themselves, and food defeat,  
And yet had stomachs left to eat  
The fragments?  
Which to a wonder did abound  
The pots and dishes too run room  
And men in meat, and drink were found,  
It augments  
The Bill of fare of the whole Feast,  
Forbeards, and butter were then dressed,  
Mustard and bands which in earnest  
Are licked.  
Two are at dinner with a face,  
Hid in thick Ling and wry mouth Plaise,  
Which they without all fear and grace  
Had kicked.  
When that I fortuned to come in, 
Septemb. 22. 1655.   
Nothing was on the merry pin,  
The Hole was likest to begin  
The frolic.  
But such a dismal night, as that  
Without one Mouse, and but one rat,  
Made all as glumme, as any cat  
With colic.  
Nor shall our fancy here supply,  
Where matter doth itself Deny,  
We will with what we find comply,  
And write on  
The Subjects as they loosely fell, 
The Hole.   
And first of him, that from the Cell  
Did through the yard (O foul to tell!)  
So sh● on.  
That from the hole tothth' two penny ward,  
He had bedighted all the yard,  
And those that came i'th' dark were marred  
In plaster.  
But not of Paris, unless that  
Of the bears homely Garden Platt,  
But straight complaints were brought of that  
Tothth' Master.  
For all the wards from two to six,  
In English mortar foully sticks, 
A poor crazed prisoner.   
These were old Braziers filthy tricks,  
Who thinking,  
To set their feet at liberty,  
(For up all heels full swift did fly)  
Left all his squitterd company,  
Most stinking.  
The Master as his place required,  
The reason of the fault desired,  
(For he saw all his guests bemired.)  
They snifted,  
And gave the Answer through the nose,  
Which made him straight the man suppose,  
Especially when One his clothes  
Up lifted.  
O villain Brasier (said the Master,)  
Art thou foul cause of this disaster?  
That no man can his foot set fast-here,  
But slideth  
As if the stones were all of Ice,  
And all this from a nasty slice-  
I'll mew you (sirrah) for this vice,  
So' biddeth  
Loose Brasier fast, and in the stocks,  
Repents with both legs under locks,  
But his fouled friends with wipes and mocks  
Do fit him.  
For they the nasty fool did jeer,  
And on him do their Breeches clear,  
As he doth sit i'th' woeful chair,  
All shitten.  
Brasier himself thus painted seeing,  
Not able to endure his being  
(And finding well there was no flying,)  
The fellow  
Shook off the stuff, and wide it threw,  
And well dispersed it 'mongst the crew;  
For he did ding it, white and blue  
And yellow.  
So did Sir Simius, 
‖ A Jack an Apes.  when he  
Had laid himself full craftily,  
(For Apes are full of Policy)  
Ith' close-stool.  
In the new minted close-stool-pan,  
Where that her ladyship and Nan  
Her waiting Maid did now and than  
There os-cool.  
But while that he in knavery  
Lay in the stool, full hastily  
Came Nanny to her privacy  
And sliced  
So swiftly on Sir Simius,  
All his new coat was pickled thus,  
In stuff they call Merd-urinus,  
Which hoist  
Sir Simius to such a mount,  
He leapt from out the nasty Fount,  
And called Nann's monkey to account  
For Dashing  
His very fine coat and filthy Face,  
Nanny affrighted left the place  
And ran where that her Sister was  
A washing.  
But Sim (like brazier) afore said  
His shitten pranks ubique played,  
And fowld himself, foul others made,  
He tripped,  
Bedabled so into the hall,  
Where gallants were a playing all  
At dice and cards, the beastly squall,  
All sipid,  
Dances in's livery o'er the boards,  
(And made foul play, but yet no words)  
The gallants all in Nannyes curds  
Were painted.  
Had Jack A long tailed Monkey been,  
H' had drawn it all along each chin,  
For want of that, things were but thin,  
It scanted.  
So that the fewer were the stains,  
Yet those spoilt all the Lady's trains,  
And to the Butler went the gains  
Oth' Table.  
Which were full great, for left behind  
Were Counters rich of every kind,  
Which made the Butlers not much mind  
The dabble.  
But went away with Snift up snout,  
And cast this pretty Proverb out,  
Money is sweet, in shitten clout,  
And thanked  
The Gentlemen for their large veils,  
And for the shattering of the tails  
Of Jack and Nan, and wiped his nails  
In's blanket.  
Now though the first Scene of our Story  
Is in foul paper brought before ye,  
(For which old brazier now is sorry.)  
A cleaner,  
And neater tale, shall next ensue,  
(Which will perfume the sprinkled crew)  
And doth hold forth a man of new  
Demeanour.  
One was too gross, and this too nice,  
This swore the Prison smelled of lice,  
Of urine, and of siege and mioe  
And rats-turds.  
The Man was not so much i'th' wrong,  
('twas true he said,) but for his Tongue,  
Not one amongst the enthralled throng  
A hat stirred.  
Used to those airs, and not to his  
They misled at his vanities,  
And damn Rose water, under piss,  
And vouched  
Tantaublint Fumes, and those of Dungus,  
(Which are for ever smelled among us)  
With cellar stinks▪ and those o'th' long-house  
Ne'er crouched,  
Nor ever should to Benjamin  
Or Storax, or to powder thin  
Which coxcombs on their hair blow in  
With puffins:  
With which they do all floor their capes,  
And look like mealed Shack an Apes,  
All which their Ladies (oft Time shapes)  
Do snuff in.  
Not in th' Exchange, nor grand-le Martin,  
(Wherein nor Major, nor yet comes cart in)  
Affords such wholesome smells and certain,  
As Play now  
About our noses (Sir milk sop,)  
So chucks the fellow under chop▪)  
And straight one lets from his foul shop  
Harry cane.  
That is, a constant wind that plays,  
From lower Ano, nights and days,  
And never in one quarter stays,  
But ranges  
From coast to coast, from side to side,  
And the whole compass through had tried,  
And Nose north-east, nore-west doth ride  
In's Changes.  
So compassed every snout, until  
Tunnells and nostrils had their fill; 
One belonging to the Law.   
And my spruce clerk too (will he nill)  
Had's share on't.  
Which made him reach and spit so fast,  
(That all his stomach ran at wast)  
And those that were about him placed,  
Did stare on't.  
But knowing he belonged to the Law,  
They durst not quarrel with his maw,  
For fear of quirks, or some new Flaw  
Or quillets.  
The clerk did utter all his mind,  
(But not a word let fall behind)  
Though nought in's belly was but wind,  
To Fill it.  
Which made him move unto his chamber,  
Not now so strong of's musk, and amber)  
And up three stories he did clamber  
To a lodging:  
Which when he saw, in scorn he cried,  
Go bring me to the Master's side,  
'tis not a place for to be tied  
A dog in  
Blany the Steward said he must  
Lie there, or in the hole i'th' dust,  
For all the house that night was thrust  
So Fully,  
That he did verily presume,  
There was no place nor empty room,  
But what he made, since in he come,  
In's gully.  
The huffy puffy steward's words,  
Were to our clerk like any swords,  
He sighed and said the Lane affords  
(Called Fetter)  
Both better sheets and braver beds,  
And pottage for our Totty-heads:  
Where dine for three pence the Law reds,  
Far better.  
Then did he think to walk all night,  
(But Candles are a precious light)  
A penny two, with which you might  
See nothing  
Of stools or forms, but cobwebs thick  
Which were both Canopy, and tick:  
But to save charges he was quick  
Uncloathing.  
And there he lay all night, and shook,  
(As if next term had been mistook,)  
And until Candlemas must look  
For incombes.  
Then mumbling somewhat in his bed  
He softly said, no more (Poor Ned)  
Do so again, this is the thread  
From sin comes.  
Ply thine own business Ned, nor let  
Or Shoo●, or Fetter lane, more get  
Or Rutting Alley, what we swett  
At nose for.  
In writing breulates in frost nights  
By Dwindling twinkling small rush lights,  
And fear no devils, nor no Sprights  
That goes for  
The Fenchers not for us, unless  
We spend our half crowns on brown Bess,  
Which is the cause I do profess  
Most justly.  
I am thus mean imprisoned,  
And 'cause I late so highly fed,  
In such a hellish nasty bed  
I must lie.  
And drink my drink, as in some places,  
They eat their porridge, with their faces;  
(For here's no cups, nor canns, nor glasses)  
And liquour  
If that you took it from the shore,  
Where men do piss, and somewhat more,  
It cannot be (I will be swore)  
Much thicker.  
O hard misfortune of just fate!  
O Oxford John's O Oxford Kates!  
Would I were now at any Rates,  
A licking-  
The dishes, where I, and my Trollups,  
Did use to feast it in Scotch collops,  
Which I last night did vomit all up,  
None sticking-  
(Not by the way) so that the relish  
Of all your dishes rare embellish  
Is changed to maukish taste and hellish:  
I am choked  
With base Tobacco stinks, and Salt  
That looks as black as sooty malt,  
With every thing I find just fault,  
(Provoked.)  
And now I must to Sermon too; 
Sunday morning. 23. September.   
Which I must hear, for I can't do  
To pass the time (while he's i'th' pew)  
As others.  
Who both in Hopkins, and King-Psalmes,  
Have never any Conscience qualms▪  
But have their Pots and pipes in palms  
●nd Smother.  
What ever honest Harry read, 
Your Pastor for that day.   
(For he his Reading showed indeed)  
And to the walls indoctrined  
Profoundly.  
And for his Auditors did look  
About the house (and then on's book)  
But they their smoke, no Preachment took,  
Most soundly.  
Only the Raven, 
A tame Raven in the Prison.  they call Ralph,  
Sat under pulpit, t' made me laugh  
To see the Sermon-taking-chaugh  
So pious.  
But Ralph it seems was once complained  
Of, that the Sabbath he profaned,  
And was by Harry's means ordained  
Tothth' dry house. 
The Hole.   
And why not Ravens to the hole,  
Their filthy cawing to condole,  
(Though Birds we know, have ne'er a soul)  
The civil  
Law doth permit transgressing Birds  
As well as Wefts, and strays o'th' herds,  
May be impounded afterwards  
For th' evil.  
'Tis on record a Country Widgeon  
In law contending with a rich one, 
Ploddells' case.   
Without Replevy kept his Pigeons  
(For eating)  
His grain from off the common field  
Ith' pound, (nor were the pigeons seil'd)  
And made the owner to him yield,  
By treating.  
The Raven, the aforesaid Ralph,  
Of all the Prison is most safe,  
For meat and drink he never payeth  
One farthing.  
And can without (good Robin) go  
Unto the Rose, 
A waiter for that purpose.  and to and fro,  
Which for the rest, I tell you so,  
S' a hard thing.  
But there is Jack the boy, 
The cellar Boy.  more raving,  
Then Ralph unfed, and always craving,  
Or else no quietness you have in  
The Prison.  
Who pays, is all h'has learned yet  
And how to carry, and to fett,  
And on your money first to set  
His eyes on.  
But Jack and Ralph differ in notes,  
Jack has' the sweeter, (though sharp notes)  
For he does sing away our groats  
All day long:  
And Ralph is taught to cry Score, Score,  
(But never Ralph said any more)  
Nor Dunns us at out chamber door  
For failing.  
Touch pot touch penny, so that I  
Had rather hear the Raven cry,  
Than Jack should sing so sorrily,  
It grateth  
To pay one's money, 'fore we drink,  
And draw (as soon drawn as our chink,)  
My soul abhors it, and I think  
It hateth.  
But patience (my friends) perforce,  
Pray heaven it be not yet far worse!  
And Jack and Ralph the lesser curse  
Be counted.  
Unless his highness please by's power●  
To open yet the Prison doors,  
And let us pay our Creditors,  
Once mounted.  
Set us but free, and try if we  
Shall not do more at liberty  
Both for our Country, and for Thee  
Redeeming;  
Then if in Soot, and smoke, and damps,  
Eat up with lice, shriveled with cramps,  
For want of common air, and vamps,  
Dead seeming.  
Bring but one smoky Regiment,  
From Woodstreet and the Poultry tents,  
Let them be to Jamacha sent  
And try it,  
If a Mulatto, or a black,  
Or devil himself do fright them back  
If once (they Mexico will Sack)  
Come nigh it.  
FINIS.   


Dignissimo Armigero, pluribus (quàm suo, & tamen suo) nominibus, Colendo; Ephaestioni fidissimo, Compatri Secundo: Cruribus apud Meridionalem Fossam habitanti, tum Salutem, tum Libertatem. Op. Vov.  
Honoured Sir,  
BY more Titles than those in the Front known and esteemed, this South-Work of your Operator in all the points of the compass, desires to be in all gratitudes presented to your large and noble hands. It was made in a Cyclops shop for noise, in a Fair for variety of transient Objects, in a Cloister for restraint. This (Sir) may come abroad at a cheaper rate, than his Master (being termtime) yet it desires you to make a Vacation for it (durante Termino) I have styled the Poem Eurydice. I dare not warrant the music Orphean: It had been penned higher, but that you know it is agreeable with our place.  
Ptelephus & Peleus cum pauper et exul uterque  
Reijcit Ampullas & Sesquipedalia verba. 
Hor. de Ar. Poet.   
Utile & dulce are the best dimension for one in the Rules.  
Who if it were in the Tullianum of his Bastill, would without the leave of molops make his Irons Clinck to the exhilarating of your noble heart: The enlargement whereof in your honoured Persons liberty is the prayer— Sir,  
Of your most obsequious godson, D' Altâ Speciosâ Villâ.   

South-Work.  
Eurydice, or a Droll upon his remove from the Counter to the Upper-Bench so called.  

WHen Orpheus did Eurydice remove,  
And played his Mistress to this world above:  
From her warm quarters (by his Harp or  
Lute,  
'Tis hard to say, and therefore let's be mute)  
Charon said not a word, Sir Cerberus  
Did hang his ears.— No doubt 'twas only thus  
Upon his Instrument; how could he choose?  
Dog's ears are always hanging, and so Jews.   

But this digression, or Parenthesis  
Pardoned, we say again, as first it is.  
When Orpheus had done so, know if this wife  
Were worth the dancing to a second life;  
And if she were ('t may be) whether, or no  
She got, by coming from her friends below.   

The latter of the Queries I shall press,  
Eurydice's exchange and worstedness.  
For she like that Salt Dame in mickel sorrow,  
Enjoyed her pass from Sodom to Gomorrah.   

And by the way, the patterns being alike,  
Perchance the stories on one string do strike:  
For some Divines do think, the place of Hell  
Is, where that first blew burning brimstone fell.  
Then for Eurydice, and Madam Let,  
For causes like, they both went to the Pot.  
Perchance both salt alive and dead, but that  
Strikes at the root, and is not yet so pat.  
Our Master of the string (I don't say Creature,  
For fear of being to a Wit a debtor)  
That tamed had all the Monsters of the forest,  
Himself of all, had been the sad and sorryest.)  
If when all beasts the power of music knew,  
He could not fiddle so, to tame a Shrew.  
Perchance 'twas so, and in some rainy day,  
Pouting, and fasting she e'en dropped away.  
But why then should our doting minstrel follow  
A Shrew so low, into a place so hollow?  
Whence 'twas a thousand pound to a penny  
That he had ere come back, or ever any.   

But sure Eurydice by all this stir,  
Was worth the fetching from the Stygian cur:  
Or Orpheus else (Played he as well as Pan)  
I'll swear he was but but such another man.  
Supposing then, not granting she was chaste,  
Not as they say from girdle to the wast,  
But otherwise, that's downward: why was she  
Translated to the place of Mummery,  
That is to Hell? where silence is inflicted  
For scolds as have at Hicks-Hall been indicted:  
Their Curtain-Lectures, and their Morning peals,  
Are all revenged with lower commonweals;  
Where Vixens sit like honest Nab i'th' Play,  
Gagged up with gingerbread both night and day.  
Others for canting, drabbing, and for guzzle,  
Like to fierce curs are always in a Muzzle.  
Sisters of Billingsgate there sit upright,  
Speechless, to the very roots untongued quit;  
And that same fiery instrument, as' twell  
Deserves, is boiling still in hell,  
Never to cool, or to be ever drier,  
For 'twon't be heat by everlasting fire.   

Eurydice, if in amongst this crew  
Had been penned up in a perpetual mew,  
For though the muzzled Sisters, and o'th' gag;  
Of those their lesser judgements do not brag,  
Yet when they cannot speak (though one's mouth's ope)  
That yet they may at last, it is their hope.  
But all in vain. O therefore Women learn  
This dreadful tale, whom ere it may concern!  
For sure Eurydice mistook her way,  
And had returned without old Orpheus' play,  
And Grissel ne'er came there, O learn of Grissel!  
While yet you may, that you ne'er come to this ill.   

Status questionis.  
EUrydice's concluded was a wife,  
A man desires but one such in his life.  
For had she had but one ill quality,  
She'd ne'er returned unto mortality.  
" Perchance tho Orpheus that now sings not plays,  
" Hath met with such a one in his sad days,  
" The music of his life, not Instrument,  
" Who tames the Beast in him, they call Content.  
" If that Eurydice depart from hence,  
No music here, nor music for her thence.  

Question.  
NOw to the latter query, where's the profit  
Of her remove to Terra firm from Tophet.  
A scurvy doubt as ever was propounded,  
And never yet by any scrupler sounded:  
'Twas easily answered, had it been thus stated,  
And for resolves you should not long have waited.  
Whether from Egypt, or from Canaan,  
From onions strong, and Leeks to cream o'th' pann,  
From clouted shoes, the brown loaf, and the last,  
From a perpetual Lent, and constant Fast,  
To be translated into Boötes and feasts,  
To be made Lord of men, and so of beasts:  
It would be in the affirmative, I'll warrant you,  
No, not one, no, that's nomine negante.  
But 'tis not so (beloved Ephaestion)  
This is the meaning of the doubtful question;  
Whether that Hell, the Grave, or honest Mors,  
Be not far better than a pass to worse.  
From frying pan to fire. Eurydice  
May shift her place but not her Misery.  
And so Comparatis Comparandis  
Whether the Sea-Slave better than the Land is?  
Or plauner yet, whether an old shoe prove  
Not full as good, as is a bad remove.   

Answer.  

WHat were the Counter rarities you have seen,  
And these of Southwark instantly begin;  
Wherein be pleased to follow Metaphor,  
And let our Hell be still at counter-door,  
From which we are removed unto that shore,  
Where's noise enough (and that's not hell therefore)  
One Boat doth serve to Hell, and that is Charon's,  
Hither a thousand ply, and they are fair ones:  
In this like Charon too, or much thereafter,  
He, and our oars do only cross the water;  
And his is Stygian, and our pool is Styx,  
Whence only Hannon got with all his tricks.  
We are in awe, as one in Grammar schools,  
And ever learning▪ yet ne'er out o'th' Rules.  
lily can't save us, lily the Caldee can't,  
lily, whom longing Ladies, and fools haunt.  
lily, who erring on th'Eclyps o'th' Sun,  
Turned Man i'th' Moon (had e'en his wits outrun)   

This Master of the Ephemerides,  
May cast his heart out soon as one of these   

Out of an Execution, though to be  
So, on the other side is to be free.  
He hath paid all, that holes at Tyburn. 'Tis  
All that I know o'th' Tripod Liberties.   

But here is Torment above Gaol to us,  
The Creatures pass as fruit to Tantalus.  
The World moves by us, and before our eyes,  
And we ne'er stir. Copernicus was wise,  
Who found the Earth did move, the Heavens we will  
The upper Bench call, from our standing still.  

* From the Prison gates we see all droves of Kent and Surry.  Oves et Boves, all parts by our eyes,  
(As if the Ark had dropped out of the skies  
Like Argo) and did ply at old Trigs stairs,  
So pass the Beasts in couples to the Fairs:  
And Kentish Apples like Tantaleon fruit,  
Glide by in Dossars, and we come not to't.  
What mean the bleating of the Sheep, and lowing  
Of greater Cattle thus? O Lord▪ they're going,  
Would we were so, but we are in those brambles,  
We shan't get out, though it were unto the Shambles.   

O for an Hebrew 
* An Instrument to hear.  Hotacousticon!  
As the Creation goes Procession  
In constant bleats, and bellowings to know,  
Like Adam's self, what every beast did low:  
By learned Pococks help, it may be known,  
He understands, the whole Creation groans.  
Low on our fellow feelers in the flesh,  
That drover there that made that deadly gash  
In thy pricked flank (it was a Counter-goad)  
Suppose a sergeant of the Counter-Road.  
The graziers that do set these men at work  
Are Creditors enraged, that is a Turk:  
Who hath no longer confidence or Faith,  
Then his submissive debtor money pay'th.  
But to the rest o'th' tortures of the place,  
The Furies of the night I now will trace.   

'Tis now as you must guess, the noon of night,  
That's twelve a clock, if I do tell it right.  
When roused by dismal lights, and hideous noise,  
(Such as Megaera, and her Tribes enjoys)  
And intermingled wheels of swift Caroches,  
I broke off sleep, that is my Bonus-nochius.  
Now when I saw so many flaming links,  
My fancy like to Rumots, straightly princks,  
And I imagine it, a Coarse encounter,  
Such as that doughty Don did once affront there.  
Some Kent Committee-man, or one of Surrey,  
Whom these Caroches to the devil do hurry;  
Dead of a surfeit of Debentors bought,  
Of cheated soldiers of a thing of nought.  
(The purchase of Church-lands) and now this man  
Of Bishop's state is come but to a span:  
It is his last desire to be interred  
In some small Alley that to Paul's adhered,  
Which by its new found name most fitly may,  
Be all all such purchasers last Golgotha.   

But O the error of my whimzied brain!  
Nor so, nor so, and then I looked again,  
And saw some dozen link-men spitting ptrough,  
And smoke and froth from their chafed chaps do blow.  

* Drove of Surrey hogs.  What think you, did they push so with strong breath?  
The ancient burghers of Genesareth,  
Some thousand Swine, who coming nearer whined,  
As if the devil were in 'em, or behind  
Elpenor changed, was not a goodlyer pig,  
Nor oould with these our Surry Porkers swig.  
I wondered at their lights, and pomp, methinks  
It should not be alive, when dead their 
* Cut into sausages.  Links   

Upon no other cause, I guess the 
* certain Jew's which had a Congregation in Southwark  Jews  
Their Temple amongst us did of late refuse,  
Because of these profane and unclean guests,  
Which made them change their ceremonial nest.  
Near to black Madges in the Paris Garden,  
Bears are more clean than Swine, and so's Kate-Arden.  
The hogs and Jews are past, these to the bank-  
Side, those to them who try 'em in the flank.   

And thus deluded in my first conceit,  
I went to bed again, covered my feet,  
And started this same Query, whe're or no,  
There's any happiness in our borough? 
A noble friend of the Authors.   
And truly honoured friend, and guest o'th' leg,  
I must conclude it absolute i'th' Neg.  
And further than the South, as said the wise one,  
There's none, dear friend, not under the Horizon.  
Wherefore we change the cure indeed, not state,  
And our condition is, as 'twas of late.  
Therefore Removers that intend, beware ye,  
You will not mend yourselves in our transmare.   
FINIS.      

Hanons Escapes and Pranks.  
WE have heard of Jupiter's escapes,  
How oft he shifted forms, and shapes,  
To bring about his lustful rapes;  
So Hannon,  
As if begot of Hannon Jove,  
Did all his brains, and man's lights prove,  
To get so many a Remove,  
As any one.  
Yet did he never go or trudge,  
For Habeas Corpus to a Judge,  
He knew they owed him an old Grudge,  
Which made him  
Rather to firemen to apply,  
And Locksmiths his best ingeny  
(Yet feared most things that he came nigh,  
Betrayed him.)  
Jove to get Leda swom a swan  
And loving Mutton put wool on,  
For he was but a Whoring man,  
And rutted  
Through all his Cretan Provinces,  
To Vitiate his Princesses,  
At any thing of comeliness  
He butted.  
But Hannon was not for Love stealths,  
But Robbing states, and commonwealths,  
For picking purse in drinking healths,  
Or blowing  
Up Locks, or bars, or prison gates,  
He could not be controlled by th' Fates,  
If he came to the bars, he sete  
Them going.  
As by Experience we know well,  
At Newgate what of late befell,  
Where he did show such tricks, as hell  
Cannot fellow.  
For he in Prison close was laid,  
And heavy Irons his legs made  
(As his bedfellow often said)  
All yellow.  
So that he did full sore complain  
Unto his Copesmate of his pain;  
And told the man that he could gain  
His freedom,  
For all those Irons, if that he  
Would vow a friendly secrecy,  
And swore that he should instantly  
It see done.  
The fellow was of nature kind,  
(For he before in's heart could find  
To have two wives, as some now blind  
Maintain good.  
And that we may as Turks use do  
Keep wives as many as we know,  
Our' states will serve for to allow  
Drink and food.  
This courteous soul connived long,  
And Hannon with his Water strong,  
Not Aqua vitae, did unthong  
His Irons.  
And every night going to bed,  
He laid his clogs under his head,  
Which in the morn he fastened,  
T' admire ones;  
And what he did to's Iron vamps  
He did tothth' door, and them unclamps,  
For he for those had screws, and cramps,  
And Augurs.  
And so released himself one night,  
From off the place far out of sight,  
All watches guards, spies in despite  
And Maugre.  
This was a quaint device, but he  
From the upper Bench had made him free;  
Before this piece of knavery,  
And feigned  
Himself to be most highly loose,  
Which got him freedom of the house,  
And for few days his back door sluice  
Maintained—  
With mellow Ale, and loosening oil,  
Which in his body kept such coil,  
That he was suffered oft to soil  
In open  
Air, (as they say) he'd cry, I run,  
And made as though his buttocks spun,  
But than he had a way begun  
To gropen  
In the back side, and the next run  
He ran indeed out of Prison  
And stayed no more, but scoured his gun,  
And Farewell  
Tothth' Upper Bench and lower too,  
He'll come no more tothth' stool to you,  
But hopes to hear, how all you do,  
And are well.  
As he at leaving of his load,  
Which he desires may there abode,  
Until he take again that road:  
Which never  
Was in his thoughts to come into,  
H'has business now else where to do,  
In what he left undone, do you  
Perse-ver.  
Thus Hannon now is free again,  
And right secure, ne'er to be ta'en;  
He straight is making for the main,  
And sorts him  
Among the Merchants for a waft.  
But now for all his cunning craft,  
He●s like to have but a poor draught,  
Which a-mor●s him:  
For as at dinner he was frolic,  
He had almost the worst of all luck,  
Which put him to a fit o'th' colic,  
At Table.  
Was one had seen him in the Prison,  
And ever kept on him his eyes on,  
Which made our Hannon to advise on  
A Fable,  
Of passing men unto Barbadoes,  
He hired a vessel with much ado  
And fooled the fellow with Bravadoes,  
And high-words.  
But he did act his matters so,  
That Hannon should him think no foe  
(Although he seemed his face to know)  
By slie-words.  
Then made as if he were mistook  
(One man may like another look)  
And so his leave abruptly took  
Oth' Gallows.  
And left him in his languages,  
But in a trice to the Maior betrays  
This nimble succourer of the ways,  
And follows  
With Officers unto his lodging:  
This crafty Squ●re that now is dodging  
Into the Water like a Gudgeon,  
And took him,  
And in the County guards him brought,  
‛ Most to the place where once he wrought  
His late escape, which ne'er he thought  
To look in.  
And now his noddle he doth ply,  
His moneys to the guarders fly,  
Newgate is even in his eye,  
If once in,  
He shall be tied both neck and heels,  
They will no longer trust his wiles,  
By which he every one beguiles,  
They'll trounce him:  
They paid full deer for his last trick,  
Brisco and Turnkeys still are sick  
Oth' qualms, that this Escaper quick  
Then raised.  
Besides the widows of his friend,  
That for his sake came to his end,  
Thither have vowed Hannon to send,  
Amazed.  
At apprehension of these things,  
(Fear lent him sure and ready wings)  
So from his bribed guard he flings  
Most nimbly,  
And into divers holes conveys  
Himself, and unknown ways,  
And leaves the Bumkins at a gaze  
Most trimly.  
He knows forewarned to have a care  
Of coming out in common air,  
Although the coast be ne'er so fair;  
But whither  
Can Hannon go? what place hath he  
Not cozened by his roguery?  
Nor France, nor Spain, nor States are free:  
For thither  
His thievish arts have carried him.  
From Holland he did lately swim,  
And did a Boor of's money skim  
Most neatly.  
The story I shall now afford,  
As I have heard it word forword:  
'Twas done, and is upon record,  
There let't●y.  
And Hannon now my Lord appears,  
Good clothes as any Lord he wears,  
And as a Lord he rants and swears,  
And topeth.  
And at a boors of good estate  
He lodges, has his servants wait,  
Two rogues that highly of him prate▪  
Which mopeth  
The silly Butter box, that he  
Believed every History,  
And thought him a man of dignity,  
And manners.  
Nothing he talked at meat or play,  
But of Bess of Bohemia,  
And of the French, and Spain's array,  
And Banners.  
So that his Lordship all commands,  
The Froken waited on his hands,  
And with the basin humbly stands,  
And towels,  
To wipe his Lordship after wash,  
For which he gave the Froken cash,  
And promised her beside a lash  
O'th' bowels.  
He gave to her in charge a whelp,  
Which he had stole from one at Delft:  
'Twas very neat, but wanted help.  
His hostess  
Must feed the puppy with a spoon,  
For he intended it a Boon,  
Unto the Queen. And thus in Town  
He boasts.  
The Whelp with all the care is fed,  
A pillow for his shocked head,  
And lie upon his lordship's bed  
Most roundly:  
For she did fill it still so full,  
And hushed it in her German Lull,  
And made it sleep (the doting Trull)  
Profoundly.  
If that his Lordship went abroad  
The Puppy did with her abode,  
And was not an unwelcome load  
Upon her:  
For she would have it in her lap,  
And give it milk, and children's pap,  
And put it in her husband's cap  
For honour.  
When that his Lordship did come in,  
The Whelp was called for, must be seen,  
The servants said that it had been  
it'h Chamber  
With his good Landlady, for which  
My Lord did instantly beseech  
She would his lordship's eye enrich,  
To clamber  
Up to her quarters, which were high,  
And very full of Huswifry;  
And there did hogen's Treasure lie:  
He spied 'em,  
Upon a nail a bunch of keys,  
Which he into his Poke conveys,  
And with good words the Froe betrays,  
And tries 'em,  
There took he gelded, Argent and ore,  
My Lord next day, the Court was for,  
And said he'd send for's Whelp the morrow  
morning.  
She washed the cur, and trimmed the shock,  
From his round crown unto his dock,  
There wanted not a vacant lock  
Adorning:  
Because the good Queen of Boheme  
Must have it as the fool did dream,  
The Puppy looked like clouted cream,  
So white 'tis.  
But my Lord Hannon came no more  
To see the whelp, or the gulled boor,  
Nor came not near the Frokens lower  
Meph●t●s.  
So for all the household veils,  
She had her own and Puppy's tails  
As a kind Foy, while Hannon sails  
With's purchase.  
But like a Slave, he'd robbed the Queen  
Of Casket, and the Plate wherein  
She washed her feet, and left her in  
A poor case.  
Thus fleshed in royal spoils, the gull in  
Less than two weeks arrived at Colen,  
And there pretended to be sullen,  
Or rather  
Sick with a Pox, but from those sots  
He stole the Plate, and drinking pots,  
Of him the Covenanting Scots  
Call Father  
Of their poor Country, and so comes  
Along the land of drums and guns,  
And lists himself among the Thrums  
In Flanders.  
There on the Conquering side awhile  
He served the French, and did beguile  
The Monsieurs of their pay (that's spoil)  
And manders  
They do not Antwerp take, and all,  
And leave the Spaniards not a wall,  
Nor yet an Ox, nor ass, nor stall  
To lie in.  
Thus doth he vapour, and next day,  
The Rogue to Leopold runs away,  
And for the King D' Hispagnia,  
Is crying.  
These voices straight do mount him up,  
With the Austrian Duke he dares to sup;  
And to the Catholic King a Cup  
He swallows  
Of rich Canary, and does vow  
The death of Thurene, that kill-Cow:  
And as he drinks, he knits his brow  
In fallows.  
The Dons entreat this gallant blade  
Unto their Quarters, and there made  
Him welcome, for the words he had  
Protested.  
But in the night, he, and his Rogues  
The Spanish pockets disimbogues,  
And out o'th' house himself collogues,  
And rested  
Not, till he came to th' English shore,  
Where he was at it as before;  
He thought to have robbed the world all o'er,  
But missed it.  
And if he had not made this pass,  
He had been hanged up for an ass,  
Upon the tree near old pan-crass,  
And twisted.  
FINIS.   

A Letter of Hannon from Duynkyrke.  

MY friends of Newgate (late so called)  
Whither I have been often halled,  
And ever by my own wits bailed.   

I do salute you my Signiors  
(Custodes of my Prison doors)  
More kind to Hannon, than you boors.   

For they unto my tricks consented,  
The bolts did yield, and bars relented:  
And not like you have yet repented.   

Much trouble hath possessed my heart,  
About my late unknown depart,  
Indeed I went out like a Fart,   

Ne'er to return unto that place  
We're 'scapes alike, nor of like pace,  
For those do ply about your face,   

Which I must not: For if Bris-co  
Should smell me out, he straight would go  
Unto your Justice for a Quo—   

Warrant, (as they call it) which  
Would bring me forthwith, where my breech  
Would be a cold, in Proverb speech.   

Who would return into your Land,  
To wear at last a hempen band?  
Better to die on Callice-Sand.   

I know some paper hath been lost  
Since my arrival to this coast;  
But the poor Ballad-makers most   

Have suffered, 'cause I suffered not,  
Those may supply my escaped lot,  
To Paper, or to Hang, is all to th' Pot.   

I would have wished my friend of wives  
(More than the English Law connives)  
Had saved his own with their two lives.   

Hab, nab, the fool did simply choose  
Two such (as brought him to a noose)  
Both which a man might gladly lose.   

'Twas true, the man did love the wast,  
But otherwise was vengeance chaste;  
No more words on't (the worst is past.)   

He was no apprehensive scholar;  
Had he but been my follower,  
He'd slipped his neck out of the Collar.   

He was too easy to confess,  
How I did use myself to undress;  
I knew 'twould never come to less   

Than swinging for't. What e'er you do  
In breaking the commands, or so,  
Never my friends break Proverbs too.   

My Breech is now on Spanish plat,  
It scarce has done its pit-a-pat patt,  
It shook like any hunted Wat.   

But got to shelter at Duynk●rk;  
In that small sanctuary I will lurk,  
And be as merry as a Turk.   

Hither if you do please to send;  
The charges of my Vicar friend,  
Who was my proxy to the end   

I shall defray, and for the blacks  
That both his Wives had on their backs,  
Or if that place any blues lacks;   

If in new Prison they chance lie,  
Or in Bridewell the beetle ply,  
I will discharge all willingly.   

'Tis my last asking, let them speak,  
If he alone had that same Freak.  
Have not they changes every week?   

No doubt they have, the man was wild  
To take two persons so defiled,  
To save them, can't he get with child.   

Wherefore my bankers of mol-Friths  
I charge my accounts in Faggots with  
A noble for the field called Smiths;   

In which these widows of small praise  
(For heating others all their days)  
May have their most deserved blaze.   

And thus defying every whore,  
All Prisons, and the English shore.  
Vrv' Roy D' Hispagne, let's loudly roar.   
 
Postcript.  
Farewell, without behanged.  
Your most slippery-friend. Hannon. Duynkirk 31 Septemb. still. novo. 1655.   

CHARACTERS.  

The Preface. Lectori Libero.  
NOne are better Geographers than such, who trusting to their own Observations, write what themselves (not Ptolemy) have discovered. Upon that reason Francis Lord Verulam is accounted amongst many a greater Philosopher than Aristotle, and by all then Pl●ny Senior, because he wrote by experience and costly trial, more than by Books. Belief is good in a beginner. A sucking Mathematician may lap in Sands, Helyn, Drake, Forbisher, and the rest, but it is not manlik always to be fed with a spoon; they must get Quadrants, Cycles, Epycicles, and rules of their own, if they will be good Carpenters; or if there be an obstacle, or prohibition in subjecto, that is at home, (disability) then let them get as good a Master as Aristotle had, and use his purse, as Sir Francis Bacon did his own. For the right forming this Character of a Prison, and some others depending thereupon, it hath been my misfortune to be upon the place (blown thither by an ill wind, and kept in by a worse) so that I have some advantage of those▪ who perchance have adventured on this subject (by the ear.) That pencil-man who will draw to the life, must have the Lady present; a copy of her countenance is not so good. Having therefore given you to understand, that the Decipherer took the lines in full view, you may (if you find fault) say, his Organs were near his Object, and so wanted a convenient distance, that is, a remove to the Rose, or a survey to the three Crane Taverns. Or else, that there is some malignity, or vehemency in the object, which may not be altogehter denied (for the party desired to be further off) or else there is some defect in the Organ itself, or a gutta serena on the optic Nerve, or else Caput malum, which is Caput malorum. In plain, that his brains were ill situate; that is, in a calf's head, or else the time of the Moon (as indeed it was not beneficial, being upon his restraint in the Wane) did not serve for the augmentation of that higher Ventricle; and so (as in the decrease it is evidently to be seen) his rabbits brains perchance, were shrivelled up for want of the Full assistance of that supplying Planet.  
Be it how it will, we must to our work, there is no living in a Mill without grinding, and a blind horse must starve, if he cannot turn round. Take therefore free Reader (and in that most free, that you may chose whether you will or no) these short solaces of him, who laboured to make his Prison of Force, his retiring house of choice, his Tullianum, his Tusculanum. It will be of little or unconsiderable cost to thee, which cost the composer hot water, as they say, and burnt Wine too (thanks to the Donors) for aquae merae potoribus nihil scribitur, as saith the Gentleman of Rome, and a Poet too, who had as good Sack in his own Cellar, as my friend at the half Moon. And so I conclude this Preface, which if it walk abroad before its Master, let the Preface have this for his frontispiece;  Hei mih● quod Domino, &c.  

The Character of a Prison.  
OMne simile non est idem. That is, for fear of misunderstanding, every choler is not a devil: or by way of inference, therefore a Prison is not Hell, though there is devilish doings in it. I do rather believe (though no no red letter man, for mine is a nigrum Theta) that a Prison is Purgatory, for in it are the several L●mb●, Patrum Fratrum, Minorum, et Ma●orum, Virorum, Foemi●arum, and infantum. To be short, here are Cells (that is Wards) for all ages, sexes and provisions; and though a child cannot legally be committed▪ yet a child being Committed for in Prison, may be justly kept there (during the mother's detention.) From the soldier to the Monk, here are places of Discipline; a hard bed for the man of the Cowle, and hard board for the man of the Sword. The Prison yet (that we may not quite be at loss with Hell) is in some descriptions of it very much the same; as especially, from whence there is (without Herculean Friends) never like to be any redemption. It is Purgatory to its qualifications and intentions, for it cleanseth your silver from your dross, by a segregating virtue of extracting your money from your bodies. In this it differs from Hell, because hell gates are always open. In this also it agrees with Purgatory, that you may go in and out for your money. It is cantoned like this last, into Limbos, viz. the Master's side, the threepenny, twopenny Wards, the hole Masculine and feminine (if those make two.) There is Locus in Ca●cere, which Sir Thomas Moor, when Erasmus drank Sack in his Cellar called by the denomination of whole-Hel: and let it go so for the Cellar with us. For here are evident signs of that old Tophet. In the midst of day are horrid lights▪ but not of the Sun, which to one coming out of it, makes the place as dismal, as a candle burning in a horse's head, skeleton in a dark night. The Incense of the place is worse to the Lungs, then that of Brimstone in the other. Cottidian Tobacco horrifying the twilight of the Cell, and making each man look like a devil to a visiting friend, yet hiding our own dirtiness in his proper velope of obscurity, and natural vizard of hot mist. The friendly Offices this Virginian plant (for since the late Imbargos, we take no Spanish nor before) affords the constant plyars of it, are its Salves and remedy against the damps of the Cellar, where fire and water are part of the tormentors, especially when they come to be paid for. As about Bloomsbury, and the utmost parts of Westminster, they cry and sing water up and down the streets; so here, beer and smoke are sung in to the pitiful receivers, who must drop a tear before they taste, either the silver of the eye, which procures forbearance, or else the very gold and blood of the heart, which is ready John. Here (strange to tell) we drink fire, that is, smoke, handsomer than water: for our beer is by word of mouth to one another but our fire is never out of our own mouth, nor to be participated but when we never care what becomes of it, or whither it goes. As in Hell, it is thought the devils are the less tormentors; so here, our fellow Prisoners lie heaviest upon us, and are to a new comer, worse than new flies to a sore leg. The Fees of your brethren, and their expectations, or rather dependencies, being greater than the jailers. The first step to your exhausting is your Garnish, which if your pocket have not, the outward furniture of your body (be it Hat or Cloak) must supply. After this loss you may chance (by being acquainted) get somewhat, which I presume Hell is free of, it being Clibanus Maximus, that is, the fiery Oven, and it is supposed that lice do not like so hot a quarter. The several Wards are (as it is in the place forenamed) in order of sub, & supra, that is subjection. As in the one, Murder may not have the same fiery Chair with mansslaughter; buggery not the same stool with Fornication, (if this be not rather a purgatory guest) nor may pocket-picking be in the nethermost pit with sacrilege. So neither with us do the debts of the lower form presume to mingle with those of the higher. Round O. S. or half moons, or long Megs, must not take place of cartwheels, and the greater Orbs of of chalk, that is for illustration; a prisoner of forty shillings head must not piss by one of five pound. And so respectively unto the Hole, where the Senior Collier or Brasier hath the precedency, and lies upon the Table, That being the Upper Bench, on this side the Water. Something in the hole (for it is filthy coming in, and worse getting out) is like the custom of Conjurers and Witches, who are near of blood to the devil. For as Necromancers are safe in their circles from the Spirits they raise up: so these sons of blackness and darkness chalk out every night the dimension of their undisquieted lodgings, and lie in white enclosures, with never a rag over or under, which they undeniably sleep in; and that chalk is as dangerously wiped out, as that in the Cellar. Solely in these Ivory beds our Knights of the Inner hole, as conspicuous, if you could see them, as the knight's Templars within their Iron Palisadoes in monumental stone. And to say the truth, I know not which bodies are harder. If I were to choose a Perdue-man for my life, I would take him forth from these Probationers. And if he lie not à nocte in noctem, as close as a spaniel, or a setting-dog, let him live on nothing but the quick provisions of his body, without the relief of the almsbasket for ever.  
The whole place may be aptly called, a diminutive Babel, where are all Tongues spoken by persons in as great a confusion; every one is a builder, and every one ruined; lime, sand, and stone, in these words are every day called for, viz. the Interest, the Principle, and Security: these are spoken, not understood and replied to. Here the Spaniard and the French lie lovingly together, and (whatever they do abroad) without the Pope's interpositions, are very well agreed. The Dutch and English tipple stoutly, and not a word here of Amboyna. Butter and Bacon being the great loss on the German side, and twelve shillings a barrel with excise the joint grief of them both. Want of measure, and a scanted Summer, makes Van Helmont look, as if Duked' Alva were rose from a jug pot to torment the Netherlands again. Methinks when I see this Petite barrel of Hidleberge draining the Cellar of all its inundations, it puts me in mind, that the Contractors for the Fens in Lincolnshire, are in a possibility of more curses than ever; that is, that the work may go on. So then, the Epitome of the Universe is a Prison. It is the All-Nation Office without a mistake. It is the Babel, not of dispersion, but collection, and from all corners of the earth we meet in the hole. It is an Ark of men, not of beasts: a Cage, not of birds, unless of Tom Browns, and yet all these are taken. It is (to conclude) a net, but not of fish, unless some sharks may nominate the whole. The characteristical counsel for this place is taken from a Grammar example.  
Redime te captum, quam queas minimo. Spend little, either in foolish words, or vain expenses, and you will have the more for your creditors in the latter direction, and he will have the less against you in the first. So farewell to the Character of the place, I would I could say so to the place itself.   

A sergeant.  
A sergeant is in one respect a Gentleman, for he wears a Man, or rather a Yeoman, a creature of a spaniel kind, who is at a rate to fetch and carry, when he hath found, he spits in his mouth at the charge of the creditor, and damage of his prey, which he mumbles more roughly, than a water-dog a Duck. They are men-setting-doggs, and are as oft beaten as rewarded. The two Counters are their Asylum and refuge▪ where the sheriff is their Romulus: For those walls like his, must not be leapt over. In his own life he is a Libertine, and denies it to all others: six days in the week are for his own use, but the seventh he hateth, because of his own resting, and not arresting: Nothing on that day is a more deadly sight to him, than a prey, that he in vain waited for on Saturday: He curses no Acts but one (and that was the most noble) of spoiling his sport on Sundays. Howsoever he may seem to the public Government, for you may mark him back and breast like a City Coach, he is an hypocrite, for he hath two faces, that is, his Yeoman, and his own; then he hath two carriages, one in his mouth, and another in his hand; he arrests you in the name of O. P. and out of hand with the mace of C. R. His Coat is party quartered, with the Harp and cross on the outside, and the lion, and Luce's in the inside, without a Christo auspice to this, or Honi Soit, or God with us to the other. His station is much like that of wisdoms (in the Proverbs) in the corners of the streets, where if he catch his prey, he is straightway upon the top of the house. His first device, after his arrest, is his prisoner's credit, which for a while he will smother, in some smoky house near his Counter, which is all a Prison, but the name, and for the nature of it more unmerciful. Having housed you (for then he hath a hundred businesses) he leaves you to his man leech (the Yeoman) who is to suck you till the blood comes, and pump each side of you, to know what waters your pockets draw, if he find your silver sucker out of case, and that you have no mettle men to mend it (that is a friend at Maw) he is in such haste to go to his sergeant, as if the devil drove him. In short, they will after a five shillings draining of Sack, be in plain terms with you, and for seven shillings a day, give you leave to lodge a spit and a stride of the Counter, which is the cheaper lodging of the two, and the less offensive, by the want of their society. In what schools of inhumanity they have been bred, I know not, but I conceive 'em to be in tuition to the fallen angels, who with their own integrity, have put off all love to mankind. Their Ambuscadoes and blind stairs are no less incentives to cruelty, being commonly skulking holes about the Butchers at all the bars, or in Beast-markets, where with their brother Drovers, they drink till their own markets call them away. He is only qualified in Rose-Wine not water, and love the mitre for the Sacks sake: soused perchance in a chargeable pickle, you shall have him more man, and reasonable when he is dead drunk, and out of his senses. Then, and then only, the Yeoman is Master, by the politic distance of his place, kept sober against his will: But for the unmerciful usage of the next man, it were good to make man like Master, and so adventure an escape (if you could) into Prison, and leave them for the reckoning: It would confound them in their hair-brained search more, then if they met the creditor that feed 'em, who with two brethren of their own coat, will bring them (if they have good fortune) at once to the prison, and their bail their own Prisoners To conclude the men are of God's making, and their own marring, their Office permissive for a time till Doomsday, which they love, for the reason abovesaid, alike with Sunday, because it puts an end to all arrests; then perchance they may find the mercy of the superior jail, and the kind Officers thereof, who will put them into the hole (if it will hold 'em) where they shall feed upon the fragments and almsbasket of old Nick, and have hot diet for their old charity in s●cula seculorum.   

A Character of a true Friend.  
AMicus certus in rain certa cernitur. Is a ●●re friend to a fast friend In one who visits you in prison, & labours to help you out: spends more money than sighs, is sorry for your misfortune, but more sorry for his own, that he should not alone be able to do all for you. Hates super faetation in courtesies as in conceptions: which makes him a Pythagorean to the story of your mischance, for fear of the danger of Scoggins wife's tale, which made a secret the fable of the whole towns.  
He doth untie his purse for you, and bind himself. He gives physic of two natures, Opening as to your person which by his security he unlocks. And Lenitives and Domulsives to your Creditors. He is his friends Icon Antopsicon, the m r. h r and looking lass whereby he dresses himself, and makes addresses to others, nay, his eyes too, whereby he looks abroad. He is the club and the Hercules, his rescuer and defender his lion's skin to inwrapp him, and the Pillars to prop him. He is a crown▪ not of thorns, to his dear head. The oil, not Vinegar to his wound. He is more practice than counsel, more Samaritan then Levite, more learning than Scribe. He is in his person a physician, in his practice a Christian. The second Edition of Religio Medici, and the first of practice of Piety. He is true beyond the Oath of Hippocrates, and takes not only care for the Bene esse, or state of your body, but your personal state. He is a Civilian in Galen's cap, a Littleton with an urinal. He gives a clyster to the Law, when it is too costive, and he lets it blood before the Calenture of an Execution. He is Galenus, as to his dat opem and dat opes, which is all one with him, he gives both Dose and Fee. he is Justinian in his civil respect and honour of you. He is of all you but bones, which he will take off, though he shackle himself.  
His Originals are è familia Redemptionis: and his rise and procedure of the house of Medici's.  
Uivas ut per te alii vivant,  
vt ego valeam vale.  
Scr●ptum in personaunius ad plurimos magni (licet hic nullius) nominis Medicos.   

A Friend in a Corner, or helpless Friend.  
IS one of a just and true Sympathy, yet wants the Powder, who feels the wound he cannot search, he does not make scurvy faces, and worse shrugs, and say he is under a vow, (that is, to do no good for any man) but inwardly mourns, and condemns that condition▪ which himself cannot help to those that can: He prays for all prisoners and captives, but hath not so done with them. Most men will turn them over to God, but he doth not leave 'em till by God's stewards he have recommendation from heaven. He is too pitiful to censure, and so let his judgements devour his mercy: he looks upon the misery, not the means, how it came about, upon the wounded man, and does not condemn him for riding without a sword, or losing his way or his company He is afraid in that, of being a greater robber than the thieves, to take away reputation is higher felony then to steal clothes, or pick a purse: He is a friend in a corner in earnest, for he dare not show his head in the Street: he dare fight the whole Serjeantry and yeomanry in the open ●ield, but is afraid to meet a man of these in the city. He is a Sunday visitor and prays all the week, he is indeed (except the place) your fellow prisoner for six days, and only bailed on the first day of the week. He is heartily sorry for you, and in fear for himself, that that one day (wherein he may serve you) may be taken from him. He is the goad of the fat Bulls of our Basan, and the whip to the D●ll friendship of the Age, which he drives only upon that day, when all other markets are not suffered. He is in a corner too really of his friend's heart, whence it is a impossible to remove him, as for the other to remove his affection. So that imprisoned to each other (more than for another) they are mutually bound to another, though not for, and stand engaged soul for soul, though not body for body.  
Farewell till we come to light.   

Certain queries, very useful in their resolve●, and Antidoticall to those in Prison.  

WHether Joseph, Paul and other holy men before or after their Imprisonments might owe any money or no?  
Aff. For Joseph, it is very probable he did, or else he was shrewd put to it, for his Brethren took away his Coat from off his back, and those who would do so, would not leave him one penny in his purse; then they sold him to the Ishmaelites for money, but it is not expressed that they gave him one farthing of the purchase, so that it is plain, that he was in a borrowing condition. Now the son of a Patriarch would not steal, nor should the seed of the faithful beg their bread; quid medium? then he must needs borrow and if borrow, owe, and (rebus sic stantibus) is not able to pay.  
Secondly he was a Divine, which is a vates originally, and to this very day that Tribe hath little or no chink.  
Thirdly, questionless the Butler and Baker both lent him money, for he would not sell God's gift of Divination as some do, and make a Trade of Nativities, (a gift not of the same donor.) Then by the event of that exposition of their Dreams. He desired the Butler to remember him when the effects of his augury made him great, which remembrance was not for nothing.  
4. All Commentators do conclude, that the afflictions of Joseph, that is the Church, and adherents to it, are many, but want of money a chief one.  
5. Jeremiah was in such want, that he had not bread to put in his head. And El●ah was so put to it for sustenance, that a Raven, was sent to feed him: it falls out contrary with me, whom two black-Coats endeavour to starve.  
6. Paul was in debt, and for a Brother bound body for body (vide locum) and paid the money, and sued not the Counter-bond.  
7. Peter confessed openly, Silver and Gold have I none. Now 'tis a Catholic and Primitive quality (ever before Usury came into the Church, and the power of lending) to want money.  
Now first may be replied, 'tis just to lend, and as just to have one's own again▪ The merciful man lendeth, that is, freely (Brother) not with interest. The wicked borroweth, and payeth not again (a hard piece of Psalm that.)  
Answer▪ to pay, is either punctual and precise, which is called in scrivener's phrase, Keep touch, that is, to a day; Or it is large, and at long run (a word now obsolete, and out of the notary's understanding, especially good liking) it was in the Primitive times, When God shall enable me, as fast as industry, and ingenious ways shall accommodate him. In this latter and more liberal sense, every one must pay his debts, or else he is an infidel; but for the circumstance of the day, vide Rob. Randall, in Epigram de Aere alieno. 
Vid. Censuram Imperat. Justin. de Imposs.  
Nec Caesari, nec Alexandro licebit numerare  
Pecuniam, ante receperint (haec sufficiunt.)    

Query the second.  
Whether one Christian may arrest another, as is usual in New and Old England. Aff. As to myself, there is evidentia facti, it is done, nor will I dispute the fieri debuit of it. Let the Creditors examine their own & my necessities, and judge of the equality.  
First, I say, (and yet it is not observed) that in Turkey, under an Antichristian Prince, it is contra-Apostolick counsel to do so.  
Now we are all Christians, (God be thanked) and fellow sufferers (God be praised) and may sue one another to the end of the Chapter.  
But all general rules have some exception. Therefore in case thy Brother be not worth a groat, throw no more money away upon him.  
2. If he desire mercy, show as little as you can, because as you meet, so it shall be measured to you.  
3. Take heed of your supposed friend, the Gaol, lest that which you imagine is your politic compulsory for the debt, do not poison the debtor, and so actio moritur cum persona. that is a habeas Corpus that will exanimate a creditor. But to prevent such a ghostliness in mine, I removed to better air, that I might so preserve myself to be their fast friend: Wherefore in such a case take somewhat, and work not for a dead horse.  
4. In New England, if your estate will reach to it, you must pay as far as it will go, take what you can find after eight years' sequestration, there is scarce a sweep left for a Kite.  
5. In old England they make over their Estates to defraud their Creditors. The Estate I had was an Office (durante vitâ) would he were whipped that made it over.  
6. I but your wife may have something (God forbid else) but there's a reason for that, before this of Creditors, the provisions of so near a relation (not being counted cheats) but Law, and jointures, and matrimonial settlements (even in his duris temporibus) have escaped others-gate clutches, than Creditors. In fine, all Casuists count it lawful, under the arrest of two friends, to be his wife's almsman, his Creditors day-labourer; that is, to keep yourself from stirring in the first place: and in the next to discharge a good conscience to others. So I do arrest this question, and for the present lay it up with me in Superiori (ut loquuntur) Banco.   

Query the third.  
WWhether it is more proper or convenient to a Prisoner to sing psalms, or drink Sack? Ad partes.  
I say first, the Query was ill put, and it was ill done to put any difference betwixt Sack and psalms, the two great cordials and consolatories of human necessities should be kept in inviolable friendship, they are like man and wife, not to be separated under a curse (nay not in Prison these) This indeed (beyond Saint Paul's dispensation) does without mutual consent, restrain, and interpose betwixt those enclosed pairs: But by psalms they sing themselves together, and by Sack keep up the tune. Now whether the Hymn should precede, or the Hymenaeal, there's the point. Wherefore to reconcile these two seeming different Sisters, like the two Universities, I will say only this. Distingue tempora et summus eris, &c. as the school says, In sensu diviso, non composito.  
As for example. Before the Sermon, even in a Prison, and so after, a Psalm is most proper, though Sack to the Minister (for spiritual Corroboration) is very comfortable, both before and after, if it exceed not the churchwardens pint.  
But if the Prisoner came lately from his obdurate Creditor, or be in the Collar, or at his short commons, then to call the psalm of All people, were the next way to leave the poor man never a bit. Therefore I do most peremptorily conclude, that a Psalm is not any way needful at such a time, or a very long Grace, for fear of a neighbour thief with a shorter. Sack then (if you had it) is most proper, and according to the rules of physic, very disgestive: but we prescribe rules, not money, you must recipe of that Q. S. e'en where you please. And for your Apothecary, we come in again, go to the mitre, the half Moon, Sun, or the devil, if it be not too chargeable with a waiter to go so far.  
According to the practice of that admirable Physician, Doctor Butler, and prime Grobian of that faculty, and the Sectaries of that opinion, there is hardly any room for psalms, at any time of the day: For ter in Die (that is quotidie) Sack is prescribed, that is, ante caenam (which we render according to our English way of eating) before dinner: Then in ipso prandio, that is in the moment of dinner, though not in the moment of eating, unless you eat, more Senatorio, like an Alderman, and then you may put Sack into Custards and mince Pies; or else more bonorum soc. and so put Claret into your sirloin of Beef, and so the case varies. Then thirdly, which is the sum of all the business, and (unto which few Prisoners can arrive) it is allowed, and perpetual probatum upon it, that Sack (without Falstaffs discovery of Lime in it) is to be taken post prandium likewise, without limitation; 'tis putlers' case, and I will not contend in Sack with so eminent a Doctor.  
I shall not make any long and tedious decision of this scruple (having at this time a cold) which makes me uncapable of bawling or singing either, and requires more appositely some buttered Sack. But notwithstanding I shall not be swayed in deteriorem partem in my conclusion, by any personal partiality, and bodily inclinations. I say therefore, as it was answered to me, scrupling, whether he should best call the Lord's day (for that name did not relish him) Sabbath or Sabbath? friend, you may Say-both. So as for Sack and Psalms, sing not the 119 Psalm, for that is too long a conscience, unless thou art arrested for the Hebrew Alphabet. Nor drink a Runlet of Sack, unless thy grief be so big, that thou must venture to break thy belly, or thy heart will break.  
The wisest of Kings allowed Sack to a sad heart, even to a very plentiful dose, for he advises to drink until a man forget his sorrow, which will hardly be done by a half pint.  
A little wine is prescribed in the person of Timothy to the whole Clergy, so that wine taken in a moderate way (not so uberiously as to quarrels, talking of Divinity beyond our capacity, or going into the houses of the women in the streets) is canonical.  
Psalms are as authentic by the practice of Paul and Silas, who by that rare Church music (for they knew not Hopkins and Sternhold) sung themselves out of the Prison, & the Prison into a Church, which the singing psalms of our days do not bring about. But this younger Sister of single vows hath sung out that elder of Instruments. So that to sing psalms with Paul and his Brother S●las is not permitted to any Prisoners now, those extraordinary gifts ceasing with their persons, and but for a time residing on themselves, for the time came when Paul under the persecution of Nero sung his own Dirge, and so to execution.  
To conclude to my fellow-Prisoners, of psalms you may have plenty, use more of them, of Sack you seldom have enough, use less; but of every lift of the hand to the head, have an I lift my heart to thee, and it is well enough: When you are in the midst of your mirth, forget not that you must return to sit down by the waters of Babylon; and if you would have less of Meribah, drink less of the Merum: But drink some, something proportionable to the allay of your condition, for fear your turning wholly Rechabites (refusers of the Creature-comfort) should lapse into Ichabods, and die the sons of desperate sorrow and disconsolation: which Deus avertat, and so I put an end to these Queries, would I could as soon to your Ceremonies.    
FINIS.