THE Essence, Quintessence, Incense, Innocence, Lye-sence, & Magnifisence OF Nonsense upon Sense: OR, SENSE upon NONSENSE.  
The third Part, the fourth Impression, the fifth Edition, the sixth Addition, upon Condition; that (by Tradition) the Reader may laugh if he list.  
In Longitude, Latitude, Crassitude, Magnitude, and Amplitude, lengthened, widened, enlarged, augmented, increased, made wider and cider, by the addition of Letters, Syllables, Words, Lines, and far fetched Sentences.  
And the lamentable Death and Burial of a Scottish Gallaway Nag.  
Written upon White Paper, in a Brown Study, betwixt Lammas Day and Cambridge, in the Year aforesaid.  
Beginning at the latter end, and written by John Tailor at the sign of the poor Poet's Head, in Phoenix Alley, near the middle of Long Acre, or Coven Garden.  
Anno, Millimo, Quillimo, Trillimo, Daffadillimo, Pulcher.   

In Laudem Authoris.  

MUst Nonsense fill up every Page?  
Is it to save th' expense  
Of wit? or will not this dull Age  
Be at the Charge of sense?   

But (John) though Fortune play the Whore,  
Let not the Vulgar know it;  
Perhaps if you had not been poor,  
You had not been a Poet.   

Your Estate's held in Capite,  
It lies upon Parnassus;  
Complain not then of Poverty,  
You are as rich as Crassus.   H. B.  

Nonsense upon Sense, etc.  

Mount meekly low, on blue presumptuous wings,  
Relate the force of fiery water Springs,  
Tell how the Attic, and Antarctic Pole  
Together met at Hockley in the Hole:  
How Aetna, and Vessuvius, in cold blood,  
Were both drowned in the Adriatic flood.  
Speak truth (like a Diurnal) let thy Pen  
Camelion like, rouse Lions from their Den,  
Turn frantic Wolpacks into melting Rocks,  
And put Olympus in a Tinder box:  
Report how Russian Cats do bark like dogs,  
And Scythian Mountains are turned Irish Bogs,  
Feast Ariadne with Tartarian Tripes,  
Transform great Canons to Tobacco-pipes:  
Make Venus like a Negro, white as jet,  
And puff-paste of the Tomb of Mahomet.  
Then mounted on a Windmill presently  
To Dunstable in Derbyshire I'll fly:  
From thence I'll take the Chariot of the Sun,  
And swim to Scotland, and bring news what's done:  
From thence I'll soar to silver Cintha's lap,  
And with Endymion take a nine years' nap:  
There I'll drink healths with smug-face Mulciber,  
At all the twelve signs in the Hemisphere.  
Tush tell not me these things are past dispute,  
I'll from th' Hesperides bring golden fruit:  
Such as the Poet's Palfrey Pegasus,  
Fetched from the fertile Molehill Caucasus,  
'tis not the Persian Gulf, or Epshams' Well,  
Nor Westminster's sweet Plumbroth (made in Hell)  
Can change my resolution, I have vowed,  
To speak with silence and to write aloud,  
That Bulls of Basan, and the Circean Swine,  
Shall all dance Trenchmore at these words of mine.  
Rouse up thou Ghost of Gusman, and apply  
Thyself to me and let's write Tempe dry:  
Be ruled by me, we'll empty all Helicon,  
In scribbling 'gainst the Whore of Babylon.  
The Dunsmore Cow's milk shall make Sillibubs,  
And our Religion shall be brought in Tubs.  
Make haste unto the fair called Bartholomew,  
And thence from the Heroic Mongrel Crew,  
Take the fine gewgaw hobby horses all,  
Which we will man, and then a Counsel call  
And conquer Calais, Kent and Christendom,  
Knock down the Turck, and bravely ransack Rome;  
What can be done more? What more can be said?  
Let's play at Blind man-buffe for Gingerbread:  
We'll have a dish of Dabs' in Fish-street dressed,  
And with the Lobsters Ladies we will feast.  
For as the Gout is but a pleasing itch,  
The best Bear-garden Bull-dog was a Bitch.  
We have both eight and eighteen parts of speech,  
Whereby I learn Ash burns as well as Beech,  
Gargantua's scull is made a frying pan  
To fry or follow the Leviathan,  
That Gogmagog, Nick Wood, or Mariot,  
Nor Creatan, Miloe, or Iscariot  
Were not such valiant stomached men as those  
That eat the Devils gouty pettitoes.  
Hark, hark, how from the South fierce Boreas rores  
Give me a Sculler or a pair of Oars.  
I'll make the Orient, and the Occident,  
Both friends at Smithfield in the wild of Kent:  
For now Tom Holder's Mare hath broke her Cruppe  
Dress me a dish of Ae-dipthongs to supper.  
The Dean of Dunstable hath bought and sold  
Twelve lies new Printed, for two groats in gold.  
'tis almost past the memory of man,  
Since famous Arthur first in Court began:  
Yet though King Lud did reign in Troynovaunt,  
Will Summer was no kin to John of Gaunt.  
What news from Tripoli? ware horns there ho:  
The West-wind blows South-North at jerico.  
Steer well and steady, boys look, look to th' Helm,  
Fetch Goesberries that grow upon the Elm:  
Like Cormorants let's live upon the Air,  
And of a Whirlpool make a Marble Chair.  
Blind men may see, and deaf men all shall hear  
How dumb men talk, because Cow-hides are dear.  
Go to th' Utopian Kingdom and relate,  
That to their King these lines I dedicate:  
Bid him take note of me, and understand  
He hath not such a Poet in his Land.  
Down by the dale with milk and cream that flows.  
Upon a Hill (below the Valley) grows  
Hungarian Peacocks white as crimson Geese,  
There sat a Rat upon a Holland Cheese:  
No sooner did blind Bayard see the sight,  
Two beauteous ugly Witches took their flight  
To tell the King of China wondrous news,  
How all Scotch Knaves were hanged and English jews.  
Th' Athenian Hydra, and the Bird Torpedo  
Were catcht in France in Mousetraps near Toledo.  
A Scolopendra coming near Pickthatch,  
Made drunk a Constable and stole the watch.  
Do what you can, Madge owlet is an Owl:  
And Beans with Buttermilk is rare wild Fowl.  
The Cobbler's daughter, we three both together,  
we'll match, he'll give a thousand pieces with her;  
Besides the smoke of Keinsam and Bellswagger,  
Who oft at Mims did use his dudgeon Dagger:  
Then shall the Perecranians of the East,  
South, North, and West, with every bird and Beast;  
All knuckle deep in Paphlagonian Sands,  
Inhabit Transylvanian Netherlands:  
'Tis the only gallant way to gain promotion,  
To squeeze Oil from the Cinders of Devotion,  
Translate our Rowndhead Turnips into Carrots,  
And turn the lowest Cellars to high Garrets:  
Let Neptune be a shepherd, and let Vulcan  
Make haste to Greeneland, and there drink his full Can.  
Titus Andronicus hath writ a Treatise,  
Of Molehills in the entrance of Dame Theatis,  
Wherein a man may learn before he looks  
To catch mince-pies with neither nets nor hooks:  
There policy with practice cut and dried  
Were carted both in triumph through Cheapside.  
If Monday hang himself no further seek.  
Henceforth Tuesday shall begin the week:  
No more of that I pray, I am afeared  
there's not one hair upon Diana's beard.  
Great Agamemnon late combined with Hector,  
To preach at Amsterdam an Irish Lector,  
Which shall convert the Horse, the Ass, and Mule  
And all the Beasts in Hipperborean Thule  
If Sunshine will with shadows but consent  
We'll make the winter of our discontent  
To force fierce Crook-back into better tune,  
And turn December's heat to frost in June.  
When this external substance of my soul  
Did live at liberty, I caught wild fowl,  
I was a Caiftiffe in the Court of Spain,  
And played at shuttlecock with Charlemagne:  
Then I did magnify and mundify,  
Then I the Fairy Queen did putrify,  
And purify again, and dignify,  
All such as did her greatness deify,  
Females did edify and fructify,  
And Amplify and coldly gratify.  
The Lake of Lerna I did clarify,  
My Verse the Aethiop Queen did beautify.  
With rage's my patience I would qualify,  
I can both certify and testify  
How Death did live, and life did mortify:  
Fear always did my courage fortify:  
He's crafty that his wits can rectify,  
To vilify, make glad and terrify,  
And with course words old debts to satisfy,  
That man I'll ratify and notify  
To be one that himself will Justify,  
And fie, foe, fum, concludes him with O fie:  
Thus from complexions I have Minerals drawn,  
Brave Captain Fumble laid his sword to pawn  
To ransom Jeffery Chaucer's Cypress Gown.  
Thersitis with a Rush knocked Ajax down  
Imperious Momus wrote th' Atlantic story  
Of wars betwixt Achilles and John Dory:  
IT was dedicated to the Isle of Lundy.  
An Emblem right of transit gloria mundi.  
Thus the great Amadis de Gal was able  
With Nonsense (like sense) to endure a Fable  
Thus Myrmidon, upon the plains of Sarum  
Did beat up Pompey's quarters with alarm.  
Let not the distances of place molest us,  
Abydos is not forty miles from Sestus:  
As Hero loved Leander, I'll agree,  
Though he and she were mad, what's that to me?  
'tis like Cleopatra and Antonius  
Met, but saw not the Cardinal Baronius:  
The Capitol, and silken Rock Tarpeyus  
In a Seadan to Lichfield shall convey us;  
And like a wheel-barrow we'll cut and curry,  
And fetch good news from Shropshire and from Surry:  
There is no Eunuch of the Race of Brutus,  
That either can confute us, or cornute us.  
Old Solon was no jester, nor no jyber,  
And English Thames is better than Rome's Tiber:  
I took a Camel, and to Naples went I,  
Of pickled Sausages I found great plenty;  
The Gudgeon catcher there o'retoped the Nobles,  
And put the Vice Roy in a peck of troubles:  
Brave tag rag multitude of Omnium Gatherum.  
Shuffle 'em together, and the Devil father 'em:  
But now and then was squezed a rich Delinquent,  
By which good means away the precious chink went:  
Renowned was the Rascal Massennello,  
In fifteen days he was raw, ripe, and mellow.  
Laugh, laugh, thou whining Fool Heraclitus,  
And weep thou grinning Ass Democritus:  
The grey Horse is the better Mare by half,  
The Bull at Bear-Garden, and Walthams' Calf  
Are reconciled, but not concluded fully  
Who pleaded best, Demosthenes or Tully:  
I am indifferent, fill the other Can,  
Logic hath art to make an Ape a man.  
I weeping sing, to think upon the Quiblins  
Twixt Roman, and Imperial Guelphs and Giblins.  
How Munster's John a laid, and Knipperdoling  
Were barbarous Barbers in the art of poling.  
From Sense and Nonsense, I am wide, quoth Wallice,  
But not so far as Oxford is from Calais:  
Give me a Leash of merry blades, right Bilboes,  
True tattered Rogues in Breech, Shirts, Skirts, and Elbows,  
And each of them will make a fit Disciple.  
To ride up Holborn to the tree that's triple:  
A man may think his purse is quite turned Round-head,  
When all the crosses in it are confounded:  
'Tis said that Poetry a thriving trade is,  
And gets a World of wealth from Lords and Ladies;  
The Devil they do, false shameful Lown thou liest,  
And when thou canst no longer live, thou diest.  
Lend me Rhamnussnes Flanders blade, I'll lash  
The sober Centaur, turn great Oaks to Ash:  
A long Devils broth, be sure you bring a spoon,  
Our mornings shall begin at afternoon;  
And Minos, Aeacus, nor Rhadamantus  
May roar and rant, but never shall out rant us.  
As we are Temporal, let's be Temporizers,  
We scorn to be surprised, we'll be surprizers:  
Let's make grim Pluto stink, the welkin rumble,  
And Hollophernes bluster, blow, and grumble,  
Rending up mighty Thistles by the roots,  
Because an Ostler stole away his boots:  
Then with a multiplying Galley pot,  
I'll know the projects of the crafty Scot;  
And then he shall be forced to hid his head  
In Tenebris, in Poland, or in Swead:  
Fough, this Tobacco stinks; thou dirty Hag,  
Stand further near, I'll put thee in a bag.  
Search Asia, Africa and America,  
To find the Goddess Berecinthia,  
And know how Pirramus and this befell  
Together by the years late in Bridewell.  
Words are but wind in Term time, but Vacations  
Are fit to publish silent Proclamations.  
There was a business never understood,  
The woman's suit in Law was just and good:  
She lost the day, this did her Cause disgrace,  
The Lawyer put some ill into her Case.  
Before I'll live this life, I'll take a knife,  
And drown myself, and then what needs a Wife?  
Strange things are done by Art and humane power,  
Q●inborow Castle landed near the Tower.  
Much like a Prodigy old time played Rex:  
A Kentish Castle came to Middlesex.  
May not a man called Newgate dwell at Highgate,  
And wed a Widow at the Pie at Algate?  
Therefore let us like or dislike Presbytery,  
It will work finely if it once besquitter ye.  
Bring me a Salamander from Surat in France,  
The Alps and the Pirenian hills shall dance.  
Is Greenwich Park there smiling Nioby  
Shall laugh and lie down like an Oyster Pye.  
F●me is a lying slut▪ she told me tails,  
That in October Christmas came from Wales:  
Believe it take the wings of Icarus.  
And walk to Hounsditch, and to Erebus,  
There tell them plainly how the case stands here.  
And bring us word how matters do go there.  
Unto the Market I'll run presently,  
And there a peck of troubles I will buy,  
One told me they would multiply and grow:  
All England with them I will plant and sow.  
Which as they ripen daily I'll take care  
That every living soul shall have a share:  
I'll serve myself first, and I'll have such store  
In time of need to serve a thousand more.  
But I forget my Theme. O foul offence!  
This nonsense hath a taste of too much sense:  
The Ass, Goos, Woodcock, Buzzard, and the Gull,  
Beat out their brains, and put them in my scull;  
And tell the men of Gotham 'tis thought fit  
The Wisemen there should lend me all their wit:  
For Nonsense I will tax all Christendom,  
Great Emperors and Kings shall pay me some,  
And many a Major, or justice of the Peace  
Will give me tribute and the Tax increase  
To such a height, that Cardinals from Rome,  
Cuckolds, and Costables shall pay me some:  
Strong Hull, with fatal Hell, and Hallifax,  
Shall naturally bring me toll and tax:  
The mighty stock of Nonsense I will win:  
Shallbe the universal Magazine,  
For Universities to work upon  
The Rich Philosophers admired Stone:  
Then I make Poets rich, and Usurers poor;  
And thus resolved at this time write no more.    

This Dedication is humbly directed to a living man, quartered into four Offices (viz.) a Scavenger, a Beadle, a Cobbler, and half a Constable.  
TO the high and mighty Davidius Vulcanus, Duke and Dominator of the Dunghills, and absolute, resolute, dissolute, Scavenger of the Town and Territories of Gravesend in Norfolk, great Master and Baron of the Wheel-barrow, the only Farmer, Transporter, Lord of the Soil, and Privy searcher of all Mixens, and Muckhils, simple or compound, in the Liberties aforesaid. Cleanser, Clearer, and avoider of the most Turpitudinous, Merdurinous, excremental offals, Muck, and Garbage. Refiner, Purger, Clarifier, Purifier, Mundifier, Excluder, and Expulser of Putrifactious and Pestiferous Contagions; the Potentissimo, Excellentissimo, Invader, Scatterer, Disperser, Consumer, and Confounder of offensive unsavoury savours, smells, scents, and Vapours: Great Sultan, Sultan, and Grand Signior over all varieties of stinks, and stinkards; most Triumphant Termagant, unresistable Conqueror and Commander of the major and minor (the great and the less) Turditanians, chief Corregidor & Beadle of all the Precinct, sole Transplanter, Terrifier, controller, and Corrector of Beggars and Vagabonds. The terrible Hue and Cry, Cryer, chief Court-Cryer, Jayle-Keeper, and only Consiner of the Hogs; chief and most frequent vigilant Watchman, demy-Constable, and Image of Authority, the most accomplished Cobbler, exquisite Translator, and exact Reformer of oppressed, decayed, wicked, & oppressed sols: And the only judiciary rectifier, underlayer, and setter upright of such Brethren and Sisters as do go aside, and tread their foot awry in these days of Vanity, and paths of Iniquity: In hope (Great Sir) I have not abated you of the least tittle of your title, your Honourable stile being so high, that no Christian, Pagan, Heathen, Turk, Jew, Infidel, Cuckold, or Cannibal, can never climb to the top of it, there being a late report that your multiplicity and many affairs of State have disturbed your rest, & impaired your health, insomuch as it is thought your pericranion is crazed or cracked, and you thereby in danger to fall into a Callenturian disease, which is to be doubted may produce a Vertigo in your head, whereby your wit may be troubled with a superfluous flux, which may prove a molestation to yourself, and the whole Town, that hath in itself, and in every place round about it, more troubles than they can well bear. But if their hard fortune should be, that when you are working to your own Ends, and that you should call for your Aule, and death should mistake and bring you your Last, whereby such a privy member as yourself might be publicly lost; it is feared, grief would overflow the whole Town, and that some of the Townsmen (with the help of their Wives) would run stark horn mad: To prevent this great detriment of such a loss as that Town may undergo in this time of scarcity of wit, wisdom, and wise men; for fear you should fall into the dangerous diseases of the Mubblefubbles, or the grumbling of the Gizzard: Therefore to drive away dumps, and to give you some Recreation, I have made bold to present your greatness with this Dedication, which if you will vouchsafe but to read and understand, and in so doing you shall do more for the Author, than he ever was or shall do himself.  
J. T.   

Allandro pasqueto Valatrumpa entangrino liuroe.  

IL vento Chioli, Mauritambull Teda fulgare,  
Antro della campo ill Danto Corda sublima  
Pantathos, stremo standina eschine vandri  
Bene in shendo, tircia, penthe dissadi.  
Mecrops Sans sida vocifera Randa Bavinea,  
Allatendrea quanto, Eltrada Pizminoy venta,  
Mega Pollimunton, Theorba quasi quicunque  
Tripolina Typhoon, Quabacondono sapho.  
Terra tragmus sophy, sunt diacalcitheo Geata.    

Avostre Obserdandi Zhean De Fistye Cankie De Sallamanca Andalowsia.  
Or thus you may English it, in the transcending praise of the Author and his Book.  

TIll PHOEBUS blustering blasts shall cease to blow,  
And AEOLUS shall hid his radiant Rays,  
Till VULCAN'S Forge be framed of Scythian Snow,  
And NEPTUNE like a Shepherd spend his days;  
When SATURN shall sell Mouse traps and allow  
MARS to sing Madrigals, and round delays:  
Then shall thy Book and thee be out of Date,  
And scorn the envy of consuming Fate.    

To your Worthiness in all observance Devoted, John De●istie Cankie of Sallamanca in Andalusia.  

SWift Pepasus lend me thy Hoofs and Wings  
Tempe, and Aganipp, and such strange things  
As Poets do call Helicon, and Muses  
(That with ingenious wit the brain infuses)  
In nimble strains make my invention wag,  
And tell the sad death of a Scottish Nag.  
A Nag of Nags, (as those that knew him say)  
Whose birth and breeding was in Galloway,  
Which Country (though it barren be and bare)  
His Mother was a well reputed Mare:  
He had all paces, and more swift than Wind,  
Can troth before and amble well behind;  
He had two sorts of gallops, false and true,  
That when he did but run, men thought he flew!  
Sure he was kin to winged Pegasus,  
And of the race of great Bucephalus;  
But I'll not rake up old Antiquity,  
To prove his Ancestors old Pedigree:  
Let it suffice, that such a Horse he was  
That could in measure bravely pace and pass,  
A Bay, a gallant Bay, most swift and quick,  
Not having one base scurvy jadish trick.  
There's many brave men, in their finest trim  
Wants what this Nag had, sound of wind and Limb.  
He died untimely by a sad disaster,  
And death unluckily unhorsed his master.  
Though Horses of diseases have too many,  
Yet in his life time he had never any:  
He had no Chin-gall, Wind-gall, Navell-gall,  
Or Staggers, Spurgall, Light-gall, Shacksgall,  
Nor Worms, or anticore, or Salenders,  
Nor Scatches, Dropsy, or the Mallenders,  
No Palsy, Fever vexed him, or Pompardy,  
No frenzy troubled him, he was so hardy;  
No Glanders, Cough, the Yellows, or Pole evil,  
Or Spavens, Splinters, Fashions, or Colt-evill;  
Nor Ring-bones, Quitter-bones, no Curbs or Hawse,  
Were of this Nag's death any grief or Cause;  
No Cramp or Canker, Crestfall, or the Vives,  
Or bloody riffs that shorten Horses lives.  
He had no Crown-scab, nor was ever found  
To have the Hawks, or Toothache, or Hidebound,  
Or Bots, or Botch, or Paps his health did wound.  
No tongue-hurt Farley, rotten Frush, or Cloyed,  
No Kybes, or broken wind his health annoyed;  
No Bladders, Surbates, Wrench, or tiredness,  
No strain, no Scottish fleas, or lousiness;  
No prick i'th' sole, Neck-creek, or shoulder-splat,  
Or Strangle, he ne'er troubled was with that;  
He had no Pin and Web, loose-hoofed, or gravelled,  
Bloodshot, or foundered whensoe'er he travelled:  
Horse hiped he was not, or in's Groin a Wen,  
Nor Rot i'th' Lungs, nor shed his hair, what then  
Did kill him? some suppose it was the Pose;  
But we are all deceived, 'twas none of those:  
No Megrim was his death, or Calenture,  
He with a Surfeit died an Epicure.  
But change of Pasture, altering of the Air  
The health of M●n or Horse may much impair:  
For by old PAR it plainly doth appear,  
(Who lived in Shropshire sevenscore thirteen year)  
Was by an Honourable Earls expense,  
With Care and Cost to London brought from thence;  
But change of Air and Diet took short course,  
And laid him dead, like Master FRADSHAMS' horse.  
This Nag in Scotland kept a temperate diet,  
(For Gallaway's a Country free from Riot)  
Nor can it be reported any where,  
That ever Horse did die of Surfeit there:  
With Provender they are not proud, pricked up,  
With moderation there they by't and sup;  
Their fate is fruitful Fearn, and wholesome Heath,  
Which frugal food preserves long wind or Breath,  
Or Moss as soft as down or good chopped straw;  
(For Horses there think Hay Apocrypha)  
An English Horse-loafe's Antichristian,  
And all their Nags are Presbyterian:  
For had I Aristotiles wit, my pen  
Would prove strange Sects in Horses as in men:  
The Spanish Jennet, and the Flaunders Mare,  
Betwixt them many strange opinions are:  
The Sumpter Horse will prance a lofty Gate,  
Proud with the Burden of ill gotten plate;  
The Naples Courser, and the Germane steed,  
The Barbary Horse that 'mongst the Moors doth breed,  
The Cart horse, French Cavalla▪ Irish Hobby,  
The Welsh Tit that loves Oats beyond Couse bobby:  
A man may write and talk, and waste his wind,  
Yet never make these horses of one mind;  
And many sects there are that disagree,  
Who in Religion like to Horses be:  
And sure more Horses have to Churches gone  
Within th●se ten years, than was ever known:  
This Nag, near Hampton Court did catch his death  
And to his Master did his skin bequeath;  
His Brains, Wit, Reason, and his honesty,  
He gave to's Country as a Legacy:  
His Corpse had near a hundred Graves and Tombs,  
In light foot Hounds, Kites, Crows, and Ravens Wombs:  
Thus at his Funeral solemnity,  
He was most swift, and did both run and fly.   

The Second Part to the same Sense.  

WHen as a Woodcock did a Phoenix hatch,  
Once in the Reign of julian the Apostate,  
When Spiders Nets an Elephant did catch,  
The Alehouse had no fire to make a Toast at;  
Then in those merry lamentable days,  
Upon a Christmas Evenear Michaelmas,  
New Market heath did hoarsly sing the praise  
Of Apuleins, or the Golden Ass.  
The Adamantine fall of seven fold Nile,  
Had boiled Muskmelons from the Mount Parnassus,  
Whereas the sing sung wanton Crocodile  
Made Roman Croesus smile, and Lydian Crassus,  
When Charing Cross the Sun of Summer Leg.  
Had Kitned in the eyelids of a Noun,  
And Christmas Carols played at Mumble peg,  
With the Bull's pizzle of a Market Town;  
Then shall a pronoun and a Participle  
Fight doggedly for wagging of a straw,  
And then Tom Thum with Gogmagog shall tipple,  
And show the Learnedest Lawyers what is Law.  
Then Ghastly flesh of shillings fried in steaks,  
And Ointments drawn from warm ingratitude  
Did draw the teeth of two and forty weeks  
From out the heels of squeamish magnitude.  
But yet (O yet) a new laid Madrigal  
Had baked the haunches of a Spanish child,  
And matcht'em to Sir Guy the Seneschal,  
Who lived Adulterously with Bosworth field,  
Whilst this was doing, all undone, and Done,  
As men undo a Trout to make a Loach,  
For as with spoons a Lord may eat the Sun,  
So lays a Bitch her Litter in a Coach.  
The Times have been, (but Time is turned to pap)  
That men might speak like Sea-crabs with a Quill,  
And old Devotion wore a corner'd Cap  
Upon the Stomach of a Water-mill.  
But as a Bag pipe-flying in the Air,  
Doth water all the Earth with Scottish Jigs,  
So Times do change their turns at Sturbridge Fair;  
For all the World now rides on Ale and Wigs.  
O that my wings could bleat like buttered pease,  
But bleating and my Lungs have caught the itch,  
Which are as musty as the Irish Seas,  
Which in their left side now have both the Stich.  
I grant indeed▪ that Rainbows laid to sleep,  
Snort like a Woodknife in a Lady's eyes,  
Which makes her bark to see a Pudding creep,  
For creeping puddings always please the Wise.  
The ●or●● of custom makes a man to piss  
A cast of Merlin's in King Dido's mouth:  
Hence comes the squint eyed Proverb, which is this,  
All men are borne their backsides to the South.  
A Letter late came from the Stygian Lake  
That told me Cerberus himself had choked:  
He took a Millstone for a buttered Cake,  
when first red Herrings were at Yarmouth smoked:  
The Oriental Chilblains of the West  
Flew like a Colliflower in Chequer broth,  
And then the Fairy Queen in Buckram dressed,  
Rod through the Air well mounted on a Moth.  
Man as he is a Cloak-bag, is a fish,  
But as a humane Creature he's a Cock:  
Which boiled with pindust in Chafing dish,  
Eats like stewed Mustard made in Vulcan's smock.  
Once in an evening when the morning Sun  
Did hotly speak with cold Meridian splendour;  
There was a jolly Friar told a Nun  
That Feminine was Masculine Male Gender,  
Things have their times, as Oysters have their wool:  
Dogs have their days as Distaffs have their Gall,  
So all men living aught to dwell at Hull,  
For Hallifax cannot contain them all.  
A Statesman once corrupted is a Gun,  
That ferrets Screachowls from Bellona's Beard,  
To make a handsome Codpiece for the Sun  
To were upon the pommel of his Sword.  
Man unto Man, is Man; but Man to Man,  
Is Herrings flesh, made of a yard of Ale,  
With the ingredients of a D●●pping pan.  
Whiles Pancradge Church begets an Issue Male.  
An Ox was lately in a Mousetrap taken;  
Read but the book of Weekly News, and note  
How many stock fishes were made far Bacon,  
Broiled on the Topmast of a Mussel Boat,  
New Heroglyphick threefold twisted Lines  
Of things that were, and were not, how Augustus  
With Ovid's Metamorphoses combines,  
To try us oftentimes, but never trust us.  
The faculties of every humane soul  
Are made of Turpentine and Venison bones:  
Engendered in the night cap of an Owl  
That gives a clyster to the Torrid Zones:  
For as a Pistol lisps when he doth court  
Three pair of guts, bound up in true loves knots,  
So Easter Term is cu●to'd but in sport,  
While Hobby-horses cured are of the Bots.  
Then smooth thy brow with milk-white discontent,  
And raise thy spirits up beneath thy feet:  
For Shrovetide now hath swallowed jack-a-lent.  
Because few Mariners are in the Fleet.  
I know I am a man abhorred of Bells  
That ring in Concave of an Heteroclite;  
I know the Cuckold's thoughts of  and Wells,  
Do sizzle like a Millstone in a Net.  
I saw, but what I viewed, I never saw  
A row of Teeth penfeatherd in a Trout,  
Whilst Perkins Horse o'erthrew a Case in Law,  
And he himself got fee farm of the Gout.  
How can a Mayor Rule, but with a Lask,  
That may squirt Steeples in the teeth of Fame?  
For if they do, their touch stone and their Flask  
Will fill the Wind with Polecats of the name.  
The clock doth strike when time betrays his hose,  
And Oysters catch the cough with being kind.  
As Putrocks wear their Buttocks in their nose,  
So Fables wear their Babbles in their mind.  
I grant indeed, that whoso may and can, Deep Ppilosophy.  
Can never may, sigh may doth can abbey; Deep Ppilosophy.  
But he that can and will, may will as man, Deep Ppilosophy.  
But man can will, yet his will cannot may. Deep Ppilosophy.  
Call True the Tailor hither presently,  
For he must make a Mantle for the Moon:  
Bid Atlas from his shoulders shake the sky,  
And lend and send me his left handed spoon.  
For Pride's a Pitchfork that the wail doth fill  
Of Ursa Mayor (God of Apple Cakes,)  
Sloth is the Cucking stool of Holborn hill,  
Much like a Soap boiler upon a lakes.  
Oh that I were in love with Bobbin-lace,  
Or great with child of Tully's purple Gown;  
Then to mine Ankles I would screw my face,  
To make a Pair of Boots for black Renown.  
Feign would I leave, but leave at me doth grin,  
As doth a Custard when his nails doth ache;  
Or like a blue Boar in a Pudding skin,  
So I must manners leave for manners sake.  
Then rest my Rhymes, before my reason's done,  
For women are all Wag tails when they run:  
Who sets his wits my Sense to undermine, is  
A cunning man at Nonsense, farewell. Finis.    

The third part of the fourth Edition to the five Senses, or Sense aforesaid.  

I'll say no more, but what I mean to speak,  
And speaking what I say shall silence break.  
Mambudget, let no words be uttered neither,  
Let's separate our speeches close together.  
Reach my fierce flye-flap, Van-Trump, stand aloof,  
My Arms and Armour's close Committee Proof;  
Give me a Butterbox with not on rag on,  
I'll pickle him like to a Dutch flap Dragon:  
An Ordinance of Parliament shall scatter ye,  
Our Ordinance is Ordnance, that can batter ye.  
Me vat a whee, is Cambria British French,  
Dick shifts a Trencher, but Tom keeps the Tr●nch.  
An Annagram is John King, and King john,  
Five quarters of one year is four to one:  
May not a M●ser while a poor man's want,  
And give him lodging, clothing, and provant,  
And hang himself, and give the Devil his due,  
Perhaps the News is too good to be true.  
I care not where mine Hostess, and mine Host lie,  
T' have meat and drink for nothing, is not costly.  
I could have written mad verse, sad verse, glad verse,  
But you shall be contented now with bad verse;  
I neither weep or sing of sweet Rebellion,  
Or story old I lift not now to tell ye on:  
The Royal mad Lancastrians, and Yorkists  
Scarce harmed so much as some cornuted Forkists,  
The most uncivil civil Goths and Vandals  
Did not on their own Country bring such scandals.  
The Turks, the jews, the Cannibals and Tartars  
ne'er kept such wicked, rude, unruly quarters.  
jerusalems', Eleazar, john, and Simon  
Did ne'er yield Poet base stuff to rhyme on.  
Like bloody Sylla, and consuming Marius,  
One mischief did into another carry us.  
Amongst all Trades (some thousands zealous Widgeons)  
Were hardly more in number then Religions.  
In Preachers Rooms were Preached, for which I woe am,  
The basest people Priests like jeroboam.  
That one may say of London, what a Town is't?  
It harbours in it many a Corbraind Brownist:  
'tis scattered full of Sects, alas how apt is't  
To be a Familist, or Annabaptist  
Whilst Knaves (of both sides) with Religion's Mantle,  
Have rifled England by patch, piece, and Cantle;  
That I may say of thee O London, London,  
What hath thy Wealth, Wit, Sword, & furious Gun done?  
And what hath many a mother's wicked son done?  
Whereby (against their wills) there's many undone.  
Thrice happy had it been for our tranquillity,  
If th'authors of this incivility  
Had been a little checked by Gregory Brandon,  
With each of them a hempen twisted band on.    
FINIS.