TURN OVERDO BEHOLD And WONDER.   blazon with spread eagle 
Printed at Layghten Buzzard (Brother) within 10 miles of Dunce stable, by the Assigns of Tom Ladle, and are to be sold at the sign of the 7 Wisemen of Goatham.   

 a version of the "we be seven" motif: 3 men mounted on 3 asses 
WE BEE SEVEN    

TO THE MOST MIGHTY and Manifold Numberless Multitude of Natural and Artificial Fools and Asses.  
Kind Fellows, Brothers and Friends, (I dare not call you Gentlemen, though some of you were borne, and some esteemed or made so)  
I have made bold to dedicate this Herculean labour to your Various Censures; entreating everyone of you in particular to do me the favour as to make the six here depictured, to be in number seven; If you be free from all Aspersions and Imputations which are Repeated of in the following Lines: than you are unfit for the Brotherhood; for all fools are not so that wear Coxcombs, Pied Coats and Babbles, and there may be a Golden Ass as well as a Grey one; Will Summer was a Fool by Art, to King Henry the eight, and Patch was an Idiot to Cardinal Wolsey. john Garret, was an indifferent jester, (but all jesters, jeerers, Flowters', Scoffers and Mockers are not to be safely Ranked amongst the number of Fools or Asses,) Tom Derry, was Harmless and Simple, and therein came nearest to the nature and estimation of a silly Honest Fool: But all that is nothing to Archye, for he is of a wise and more wary Garb; he knows a piece of Beef from an Iron Wedge, and a Velvet Purse from a Sows Eare. He is well known from others, and may be trusted with untold Millstones: the truth is, that he is much to be beloved for those Good parts he hath, and sure there are many that did never receive harm by him, or do desire it; And so my good Patrons I leave my Lines and Labours to you, and you to fortune and the world, whose favourites you are or may Be, as she pleaseth to be friend you.   

We be Seven.  

TWo Brothers walking in a Starry Night,  
And viewing well the Skies Illustrious light,  
And how the spacious spangled firmament  
Was wonderful in compass and extent,  
They fell into a serious discourse,  
From Mad to Bad words, and from Bad to Worse.  
The one did wish he had a piece of Ground  
As large or Ample as the Skies great Round,  
The other wished for Oxen, Bulls and Kine  
As many as the Stars, which then did shine:  
The first said, where should all these Beasts have Bait,  
In your ground Sir, the second Answered straight.  
With that the one began to storm and swear  
Without his leave they never should feed there.  
The other said that in his teeth despite,  
His cattles should Graze there both day and night,  
And that they in his Ground should feed and fill,  
Without his leave, or favour, or goodwill,  
Thus were there anger's Raised, both scorned to yield,  
And both each other dared into the field.  
The quarrel great the danger dreadful was,  
Each one well Mounted on his warlike Ass,  
In furious form, and armed as you see  
For bloody Combat, both prepared be.  
When lo! a third man horsed as well as they,  
Road posting in, and thus took up the fray.  
Brethren, quoth he, put up your murdering tools,  
Though we want wit, yet lets not play the fools.  
Our Beasts and we are six, the number's even,  
Except some looker on do make up Seven.  
We are but half a dozen, but before  
We can turn round, our number will be more.  
Though some for beauty, wealth, descent, or place  
Or rich attire, may hold us in disgrace,  
Let each one judge himself, and I durst lay  
A wager, that we shall be seven straightway.  
He that hath passed his word, or used his pen  
In Bonds, and paid the debts of other men,  
And lives in woe and want for doing thus,  
Hath been a kind man, and is one of Vs.  
He that hath Gamed away a good estate,  
And now doth want, doth cheat for  and meat,  
Or beg, or bravely steal, or poorly starve,  
To make our nnmber seven, doth well deserve.  
He that hath drabed away his Time, his Wealth,  
His Credit (if he had it) and his health,  
Although he's poor, and his diseases many,  
he'll make our number seven as well as any.  
He that is Jealous, and no cause can tell  
Wherefore he is so, doth live half in hell,  
And is a Cuckold only in conceit,  
We six will make that man our brother strait.  
The Glutton whom nor Sea, nor Land, nor Skies  
With Fishes, Beasts, Fruits, Fowls cannot suffice,  
Though he be near so rich, I tell him thus,  
he's better fed than taught, and one of Vs.  
He that will let his wife live as she list,  
And please her, fearing both her tongue and fist:  
And lets her go, come, eat, wear what she will,  
He is our Brother, and shall be so still.  
He that oft drinks a friends, or Great man's health  
And drinks his own away, and wastes his wealth,  
'tis not his dropsy or his Giddy Brain  
Shall make us his sweet Brotherhood Refrain.  
He that will for the wagging of a straw  
Or for each toy or trisle go to law,  
And loves contention better than his food,  
He makes our number seven 'tis understood.  
He that delights in Brawls and quarrels picking,  
In rough uncivil words, or dangerous striking,  
Though for acquaintance we do never crave him  
Yet he's our Brother, till the hang man have him.  
He that is toucheous, tasty, washpish, froward,  
And fretful, hasty, every way untoward:  
I do assure you such a tempered man,  
Shall make our number seven, do what he can.  
He that our Church's government doth leer,  
And hates our Reverend Ceremonies here,  
Striving to mar what's well, what's Good to alter,  
he's one of Us, until he catch the halter.  
All these, and many more our Brothers are  
And each of us with him shall have a share:  
Ambition is a stumbling Rampant Ass:  
An Alchemist may for our brother pass:  
Empson and Dudley, were projectors twain,  
And both our Brothers, so are all their train,  
For whose sake, Such proiectours that are bad,  
Are wished to have such wages as they had.  
These that trust Palmistry, or Augury,  
Of fortune telling mad Ass-trology,  
Or to be Great or Rich doth toil and plod  
And makes their belly or their Gold their God,  
All fond Inamour●t●es that are Mad  
For Love (Sir Reverence) That cannot be had,  
How ever such, by wise men may be deemed,  
They shallbe of our brotherhood esteemed.  
In Brief the Worlds a Mass of Vanity,  
A Gallemalfrey of mixed foolery.  
And though men have not all oneself condition  
Yet every man's a fool or a Physician.  
Fool's will be meddling and what ere he be  
That's angry at these lines, is one of we:  
And we do hope that wisemen have such powers  
In Wisdom, not to set their wit to ours.  
And 'tis a Proverb amongst age and youth  
That Fools and Children still will tell the truth:  
Besides an old said saw is not forgot  
Which says a fool's Bolt's soone or quickly shot.  
We seven are fools, six of us are to sell,  
But if we all were Rich, we know Right well,  
For love of us, our lands, our goods and gold,  
We should be begged for fools, not Bought and sold.  
We were esteemed in learned Erasmus days  
Who wrore a worthy Book in follies Praise,  
And this much may be learned in Nature's school  
'tis better to be Borne than made a fool.  
Thus every man that lives one way or other  
Doth make our number seven, and proves our Brother;  
For Mighty States, and powerful Potentates  
That seem to oversway and Rule the Fates  
And with a Nail through Fortune's wheel can drive it  
And at that Point that Nail can clench and rivet,  
Where ●he cannot turn her wavering wheel  
They are Wisemen indeed, (if such there be)  
And are no fellows for such fools as we.  
But till such time as we such men can find,  
(As sure they are excluded Humane kind)  
The Race of man to folly being subject,  
And in one Point or other Fortune's abject.  
For why if any men have Earthly Rest,  
'tis only We that are Right fools professed.  
Thus welcome Brother whosoe'er thou art  
If thou will make us seven, we'll take thy part.    

The Mad-Foole.  
ALL common Drunkards, Swearers, Thiefs and Roarers,  
Decoys, Sharks, Cheaters, Runagates and Shifts,  
All vagabonds, Nims, Prodigals and Whores,  
All Stales, Stands, Rogues, all Cutpursses, and Lifts,  
These are the Mad fools men, a wicked Crew,  
Whom Heaven Abhors, and Hell on Earth doth spew.   

The Sad-Foole.  
ALL Moody, Melancholy, Malcontents,  
The Sons of Envy, Troublers of a State:  
Projecting Humorous Politics, whose events  
Are Machiavellian to beget debate.  
Who laugh at Mischief, Grieve at all that's good  
These are the sad fools Best Beloved Brood.   

The Merry-Foole.  
THose that can jybe, and jeer, Scoff, Mock, or jest,  
Dance, Fiddle, juggle, Tumble, play the Ass,  
Rhyme Roguishly, prate nonsense, smell a feast  
And laugh at nothing All this Crew may pass,  
For Troins true, mad Greeks', and drink old sherry,  
Under the Banner of the Fool that's merry.   
FINIS.