Paperupa supern
A Bower
of Delights
NICHOLAS BRETON
828
38446
1893a
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LIBRARY
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1817
VERITAS
UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN
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BIOTICHELLE
PLURIBUS
UNUM
SCIENTIA
OF THE
TUEBOR
SI-QUÆRIS-PENINSULAM-AMⱭNAM –
CIRCUMSPICE
MOOOA
THE GIFT OF
Professor
Joshua McClennen
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A BOWER OF DELIGHTS.

The Elizabethan Library.
838
Į
Dusty Lonovable, the fartssfull love to jis mighs gabred to
hot Enowers gutse made me out of my for
Anty to &P! Grays
ye
proſent the same. We thest fence que tuve l'ior, agample qe pals
que of Treaße, and he wastort peageren nomingo no
type the prior when farge afferre, drawings of rand
Rage of Beaſt, ...
peruſtige of aſ deſtrees. gationes, pro my aber
Erations Diplomes I & mulle wee
my belles favor
*
2
To the highe, and meste Noble Lorla
Duke of
helthe, honor, and eternake
Happines?
آن
to
Guards Discobed, to the
Pomanded
Mrth Breton
Reduced facsimile of Nicholas Breton's handwriting.
-10 5081
BRAAA.


کی مجھ
Gift
Plry Joshua Me Cle
9-164-64
excnopsi
INTRODUCTION.
There is this differentiation between our
prefent worthy,
NICHOLAS BRETON, Gentleman,
and his two predeceſſors in this Series-
SIR PHILIP SIDNEY and SIR WALTER
RALEIGH-that whereas we still read and
value their writings mainly for what the
men were, and ſo as ſhedding light on their
characters, in his cafe the man is a mere
nominis umbra, while his books are
intrinfically preferve-worthy. Sidney and
Raleigh feized the nation's imagination and
heart in the spacious days' of great
Elizabeth, and this has imparted an in-
trinsic interest and immortality to their
books. Whatever of intereft and imperish-
able Stuff belongs to lefs prominent actors
must be fetched from their thoughts
that breathe and words that burn' them-
Selves.
<
We have told, as fully as might be at
fo late a day, the life-ftory of Breton in
70%
Vill
Introduction.
our Memorial Introduction prefixed to the
two maffive quartos that contain his Works
in the Chertsey Worthies Library' (1879).
Thither the student-reader is referred.
Here, our notice throughout must be brief.
and fummary. He was the ſecond ſon of
William Breton, of Red Cross Street,
Gripplegate, London, who had a lineage
that warranted that fon's use of 'Gentle-
man' after his name. Effex, Lincoln,
Leicestershire and France yield many
Bretons related and inter-related.
M
|
The age of Mafter Nicholas in his
father's Will-given by us as above in
extenfo-carries us back to 1542-3 as his
birth-date; and the contents of the fame
Will show that his pathetic after-references
to having been • once rich' and 'gently
bred' were equally justified. The family-
property-houſes and lands—lay in Cheap-
fide' (an acre' no less-worth half a million
to-day probably), Effex and Lincoln.
We have only one folitary glimpse of his
academic training. It occurs in an inci-
dental entry in the (still unpublished) Diary
of the Rev. Richard Madox (Sloane MS.
5008) under 14th March, 1582, as
follows:
'I dyned w² Mr. Carlil at his brother
Introduction.
ix
Hudson's, who is governour of Antwerp.
a He offered me xli to take a boy wt me
[cipher].
1
Ther was Mr. Brytten, once of Oriel
College, wch made wyts wyl. He speaketh
Italian wel [cipher].'
This yields us three facts:
a. That our Nicholas Breton was 'orce'
of Oriel College, Oxford.
b. That he was now [1582] abroad, and
Spoke Italian.
<
،
c. That his Will of Wit' was well
known fo early as 1582.
He
Eheu, like too many of our Univerſity
MSS., the Registers of renowned 'Oriel'
of the period, have diſappeared; ſo that his
course at Oxford cannot be traced.
feveral times diſclaims learning; but pro-
bably it was his modesty that led him fo
to depreciate himſelf. Various of his books
reveal somewhat extenfive travels and obfer-
vation of men and manners all over Europe:
albeit he never wearies of exalting ‘this
our England' and home.
The next noticeable point is a fome-
what forrowful one; for it tells us that
his mother looked more to her own pecuniary
interefts than to the welfare of her father-
lefs children. Well left, all was con-
X
Introduction.
tingent on her remaining 'fole' (i.e., a
widow). A law-fuit ensued for the pro-
tection of the family; but it appears to
have been compromised privately.
The
widow, however, had previously married
George Gascoigne, the once famous' poet.
It is pleaſant to note that there are
allufions and circumstances cafually men-
tioned by Breton that feem to be declara-
tive of friendship between the Stepfather
and his stepfon.
Another interefting event is Breton's own
marriage, as recorded in the Regiſter of St.
Giles, Cripplegate, London:
1592-3, Jan. 14. Nicholas Brytten
and Ann Sutton.'
The fame Regifter contains the uſual
lights and fhadows of home-life in Baptifms
and Burials. I fear Mrs. Nicholas
Breton proved a fhrew and unsympathetic.
His after-defcriptions—poignant and vivid
-of the Unquiet wife' compel us to
think fo.
In the Memorial-Introduction already
named, will be found a chronological lift
of the numerous productions of Breton, with
details. They date from 1577 and run on
to 1626. In 1577 he defignates certain
of his fcattered verses as the Workes of a
<
Introduction.
xi
He must have lifped in
He went on writing to the close of a long
life; and no more pathetic perfonality of
the period greets us than this fine old
English gentleman,' fallen on evil days, but
ever bearing himſelf bravely and worship-
fully. There are touches of melancholy,
but never of queruloufnefs. He outlived
his great contemporaries and friends.
Jacobean times looked poor and mean in
the light of Elizabethan. Still be held
himſelf in heart of hope and cheer. Nor is
bis leaft diftin&tion that he-bating inevitable
coarseness of manners-painting—food pure
and ftrong. His last book was his "Fan-
tafticks: feruing for a perpetuall Prognos-
tication'
one of his brightest and
most winfome profe books. It was pub-
liſhed in 1626, and his name thenceforth
fuddenly disappears. All but certainly he
died in 1626, and thus had reached his
83rd year.
Yonge Wit.'
numbers.'
Sooth to say, it has been ſomewhat of a
burden to make the flender Selections from
the
many writings of Nicholas Breton within
the limits of this ſmall volume. There was
ever and anon another and another bit that
claimed inclufion, and brave tranſlunary
J
xii
Introduction.
things' that ſeemed to cry out againſt ex-
clufion. It were idle to pretend that he is
anything like reprefentatively dealt with
herein, either as a warbler of poetic profe
or as 'Sweet finger' having a distinctive
note. But fufficient, I hope, has been
Selected to fend many and many a new
Student-reader to his Works.
I dare to claim higher recognition for
Nicholas Breton than hitherto on the ſtrength
of even these inadequate felections. His
profe gives us glimpses of England when it
was 'Merry England, alike in gentle and
Simple, in court and country. I think of
the dainty delicacies of a Watteau on china
as I read his fresh and well-worded de-
lineations of men and things. Then, even
his lighteſt and ſlighteſt pamphlets are
weighted with common fenfe, aptly phraſed.
I believe moſt will agree with me that many
of the prefent-day forms of proverbs and pro-
verbial fayings originated with him. Of
his lowly, reverent, devout inward life one
could hardly fay too much. Now and again,
monotonously fweet, his facred verſe takes
alfo o' times irideſcent hues, and utters out
paffionate experiences. A chief distinction
is his character-painting or word-portraits.
No one who will take pains to study his
Introduction.
xiii
Let
6
<
'No Whippinge' and Pafquil tractates
will dispute that therein are to be found
unacknowledged and hitherto unnoted in-
debtedness of George Herbert in his 'Temple'
to Breton. Some of the quainteft fancies
and most aptly put homely counfels of the
Parfon-poet of Bemerton reflect again and
again the earlier poet and thinker.
the quotations from No Whippinge' and
Pafquil's Madcappe' in these selections
bear witness. Similarly, his ' Characters in
Elays' and his 'Good and Bad, beyond
all gainsaying, guide us to Thomas Fuller's
model in his antithetic Thoughts' in
'Good and Bad Times. I accufe neither
of plagiariſm; but none the less I wish
each had paid tribute to his infpirer. That
he was a born finger, a genuine Maker, with
imagination and tenderness, his 'Lullaby'
alone should atteft. It may stand fide by
fide with Robert Greene's—and that means
rare excellence. And, after all, is not the
Robin-Red-Breaſt that pipes as immortal as
the eagle that foars? or, unmetaphorically,
whilst not at all affirming 'great' genius
or fupreme faculty in Breton, is it not due
to one fo gifted and fo modeft, fo inevitable
and fo clear, to keep him in grateful re-
membrance?
xiv
Introduction.
Only one other thing remains to be
noticed in this our Introduction, viz., that
in the Works (as before) a confiderable lift
is made out of Shakespearian phrafes and
words that point to Shakespeare's knowledge
of Breton's booklets. Perhaps the capable
reader will not go unrewarded if he con-
fult thefe pages (Works, vol. i., pp. li.-liv.).
I accentuate this here becauſe I for one am
willingly perfuaded that the 'W. S. of the
commendatory lines before Will of Wit'
(1599) were by Shakespeare. They must
find a place:
<
AD LECTOREM, DE AUTHORE.
What shall I lay of Gold more than 'tis
Gold;
Or call the diamond more than precious;
Or praiſe the man with praises manifold,
When of himself himself is vertuous?
Wit is beft Wit, yet fuch his Wit and Will,
As proves ill good, or makes good to be ill.
Why? what his Wit? proceede and afke
his Will;
Why? what his Will? reade on, and
learne of Wit;
Both good, I geffe, yet each a feveral ill;
This may seem strange to those that heare
of it;
Introduction.
XV
Nay, nere a whit, for vertue many waies
Is made a vice, yet Vertue bath her praiſe.
Wherefore, O Breton, worthie is thy worke
Of commendations worthie to be worth;
Like captious wittes in everie corner lurke,
A bold attempt it is to fet them forth,
A forme of Wit, and that of fuch a sort
As nere offends, for all is faid in Sport.
And fuch a port as ſerves for other kinds,
Both young and old, for learning, armes and
love;
For ladies' bumors, mirth and mone he finds,
With Some extreames their patient mindes
to prove :
Well, Breton, write on hard, thou haft the
thing
That, when it comes, love, wealth, and fame
will bring.
W. S.
Everyone knows that in an age when
commendatory verſes were the mode Shake-
Speare neither fought nor gave fuch. The
more remarkable, therefore, that theſe lines,
with the play on Wit and Will and other
bewrayals of the fine Roman hand, lend
themſelves to identification of the initials
xvi
Introduction.
W. S. with William Shakespeare. The
only avowed contributions to another's book,
it may be added, are his poems given with Sir
Robert Chester's Love's Martyr' (our
edition and the reproduction in New Shake-
Speare Society).
<
It must be permitted me to cloſe this our
Small Introduction with our dedicatory
Sonnet to Edmund W. Goffe, Efq.:
Rich-dowered friend, Worthy rich-dower'd
I bring
To thee, in BRETON; and I have no fear
Of chilly welcome, or praife infincere;
When thus I ask thee lift him lowly fing:
True as a wood-bird's is his carolling,
And with its pathos too, 'mid branches
fere:
And a foft light of Hope, that ſhineth
clear,
As when the fun gilds the lark's foaring
wing.
Nor will it irk thee, now and then to look
On old-world pictures of his warbled
profe-
Quaint talks in green lanes and by firefide
nook:
For thou art one, who 'mid all culture
knows
Introduction.
xvii
'Tis well to linger in the great days
olden
When England's Speech and act alike
were golden.
ALEXANDER B. GROSART.
St. George's Vestry,
Blackburn.
So
1


CONTENTS.
Hymn of Adoration .
Advice, Wifely Quaint and Quaintly
Wife.
George Herbert's "Temple' long
anticipated
Aglaia-a Paftoral
Another Paftoral-Aglaia
Angler-1597
"A Little Brief Authority'
Beauty
Caviare [1597]
•
•
·
PAGE
I
•
4
8
I I
14
17
22
26
26
Word-Portraits of Characters
Jefus Chrift
Christmas Carol
Another Christmas Song
The City of God (De Civitate Dei)
or Heavenly Jerufalem.
Elizabethan-Jacobean Clergy-1603 51
Country Folks-1618
Wife Counfels
45
53
27
38
4I
43
135
55
XX
Contents.
Country Players
Darwin-like Obfervation of 'Little
Creatures'
A Day in Merry England of the
Olden Time
Queen Elizabeth Living-1603
Faith
A Pretty Fancy
Follies
Forks (with Knives), an Innovation
and Luxury
Wearers of the Fool's Cap
Heaven v. Earth
Honour
An Odd Humour
Inhofpitality
A Pathetic Letter by Breton
Love-Letters
What is Love?
Love
My Lady-Love
Love's Yes and No.
Farewell to Love
Love-Lilt
Love A Fest
Love Accurfed
A Lullaby.
Pafquil's Meſſage
·
•
•
•
•
·
85
87
87
91
95
96
IOI
102
103
. 105
106
PAGE
57
•
57
58
•
75
77
79
79
82
82
84
107
•
• 107
. 108
III
Contents.
xxi
Murmurers-Acceffion of James I.
(1607)
A Sweet Paftoral
Phillis and Coridon.
Phillida and Coridon
Poets and Poor Writers
Proverbs and Wife Saws
The Quiet Life
Gird at the Puritans
Quips and Cranks
The Ignoble Rich
•
A Report Song in a Dream between
a Shepherd and his Nymph
Refpect Humble Rustic Folks
Satire to be Shunned
•
•
Satire Threatened if Needed
A Smile Mifconftrued
Quaint and Apt Sayings
Sententious Sayings.
Speech is Silvern, Silence Golden
Edmund Spenfer, 1599
A Feſting Story
Shipwrecked Sailor's Story
Summer
Christmas Day
Eafter Day
•
·
113
115
117
. 118
•
•
•
•
•
·
•
•
Final Appeal to Donne, Hall, Marfton,
and all
•
•
•
•
•
PAGE
•
137
. 138
•
141
142
146
•
119
120
123
124
125
128
132
133
134
152
154
156
158
162
164
. 165

xxii
Contents.
Authors of High Tragedies.
Foreign and Home Travel
An Ufurer
A Beggar.
A Waggery
Watchfulness
Yeoman: 1618-To a Courtier
Jo
•
PAGE
. 167
168
•
170
171
172
173
. 175
HYMN OF ADORATION.
SOME heavenly Mufe come help me fing
In glory of my Heavenly King;
And from fome holy angel's wing
Where graces do for feathers ſpring,
Oh, bring my hand one bleffèd pen
To write beyond the reach of men.
Let all the ſubject be of Grace,
Where Mercy fet in Glory's place,
Doth ftand below the fhining Face
That makes all other beauty baſe;
That heaven and earth may ſee the
wonder
That puts all works and wonders
under.
Let virtues only fet the grounds
Where Grace but all of glory founds,
B
:

2
A Bower of Delights.
While Mercy heals the fpirit's wounds
Where Faith the fear of Death con-
founds ;
That heaven and earth may joy to
hear
The mufic of the angel quier. choir
*
Oh, tell the world no world can tell
How that joy doth all joys excel;
Where bleffèd fouls fet free from hell
In Mercy do with Glory dwell,
And with the faints and angels fing
In glory of their Heavenly King.
Sink not a note beneath the ſenſe
Of Glory's higheſt excellence ;
And keep unto that only tenſe
Where heavens have all their honour
thence,
That feraphim may clap their wings
To hear how Grace of Glory fings.
Oh, let the fun in brightneſs fhine,
And never let the moon decline;
And every ſtar his light refine,
Before that bleffèd light divine,
Of Whom, in Whom, from Whom
alone,
They have their fhining every one.
A Bower of Delights.
3
Let all the azure ſky be clear,
And not a miſty cloud come near ;
But all that higheſt light appear,
Where angels make their merry cheer;
And all the troop of heavens may ſee
Where all the joys of heaven may be.
Let Phoebus in his brightneſs ſtay
And drive the dark fome nights away;
And virgins, faints and angels play,
While martyrs keep high holiday;
And all the hoft of heaven accord
To fing in glory of the Lord.
Let all the year be Summer's ring,
And nightingales all birds that ſing;
And all the fruits that grow or ſpring
Be brought unto their glorious King;
With all their colours and their ſweets,
Before His feet to ftrew the streets.
;
Let honey-dews perfume the air,
That all may be both ſweet and fair
That may with Mercy's leave repair
Unto the feat of Glory's chair;
That everything may fitting fall
Unto the glory of them all.
Let all the hearts, the fouls, the minds,
That Wiſdom unto Virtue binds,
B 2
4
A Bower of Delights.
+
And heeds but of thoſe bleffèd kinds,
That gracious Love in Glory finds;
Agree together all in one,
To glorify our God alone.
And when they all in turn are fet
And in their ſweeteſt mufic met,
And higheſt ſkill the notes repet, =repeat
Where grace may higheſt glory get;
My raviſh'd foul in mercy then
May have but leave to fing Amen.
(The Soul's Harmony, 1602.)
Jo
ADVICE, WISELY QUAINT
AND QUAINTLY WISE.
The Fool to be let alone.
Know'st thou a fool? then let him leave
his folly,
Or be so ftill, and with his humour paſs:
What hath thy wit to do with trolly
lolly?
Muſt every wife man ride upon an aſs ?
Take heed thou mak'ſt not him a look-
ing-glafs
A Bower of Delights.
5
Wherein the world may too apparent
fee,
By blazing him, to find the fool in
thee.
= blazoning
(No Whippinge.)
So, too, the Villain.*
Know you a villain? let him find his
match,
And fhow not you a match to villain's
ſkill;
A fooliſh dog at every cur doth ſnatch
Words have no grace in eloquence of
ill ;
There is no wreſtling with a wicked
will:
Let paſs the villain with his villainy;
Make thou thy match with better
company.
(No Whippinge.)
* Hit probably at Marston's 'Scourge of
Villainy.'
Jo
6
A Bower of Delights.
1
Gentleness to the Fallen-a Quean.
Have you acquaintance with fome
wicked quean?
Give her good words, and do not blaze
her faults;
Look in thy foul if it be not unclean,
And know that Satan all the world
affaults:
Jacob himſelf before the angel halts :
Sigh for her fin, but do not call her
whore ;
But learn of Chrift to bid her fin no
(No Whippinge.)
more.
So with the Drunkard.
Know you a drunkard? loathe his
drunkennefs,
-But do not lay it open to his foes;
Left, over-rating his ungodlineſs,
You take yourſelf too foundly by the
nofe ;
Who hurts himſelf doth give unkindly
blows :
Wink at each fault and wifh it was
amended,
And think it well that's with repent-
ance ended.
(No Whippinge.)
A Bower of Delights.
7
Even the Miſer to be pitied.
Know you a miſer? let him be fo ftill,
And let his ſpirit with his metal melt
Let him alone to die in his own ill,
;
And feed not you on that which he
hath felt:
Be not you girded in fo vile a belt :
Rather pray for him, than ſo rail
upon him,
That all the world may lay their
curfes on him.
(No Whippinge.)
The 'great one."'
If that a great one have a great defect,
Let not your thought once touch at fuch
a thing;
Unto fuperiors ever have reſpect ;
A beggar muſt not look upon a king:
'Take heed,' I fay, is a moft bleffed
thing;
Leſt if you run too far in ſuch a fit,
A fool may hap to hang for lack of
wit.
(No Whippinge.)

8
A Bower of Delights.
Proverbs.
Learn Engliſh Proverbs, have them well
by heart,
And count them often on your fingers'
ends ;
Do not your fecrets to the world impart;
Beware your foes, do not abuſe your
friends;
Take heed of flatterers as of helliſh
fiends:
Eat up your meat and make clean all
your platters,
And meddle not with any prince's
matters.
(No Whippinge.)
Jo
GEORGE HERBERT'S' TEMPLE'
LONG ANTICIPATED.*
Life and Conduct.
Read what is written on the painted
cloth;
Do no man wrong, be good unto the
poor;
* See our Introduction.
A Bower of Delights.
9
Beware the Moufe, the Maggot and the
Moth;
And ever have an eye unto the door :
Truſt not a fool, a villain, nor a whore:
Go neat, not gay, and ſpend but as
you ſpare ;
And turn the colt to pafture with the
mare.
Be not a churl nor yet exceed in cheer;
Hold faſt thine own, pay truly what
thou oweft;
Sell not too cheap and do not buy too
dear :
Tell but to few what fecret e'er thou
knoweft,
And take good heed to whom, and what
thou sheweft:
Love God, thyſelf, thy wife, thy
children, friend;
Neighbour and fervant-and fo make
an end.
Believe no news till they be nine days
old,
Nor then too much, although the print
approve them;
Miftake not drofs for perfect Indian gold;
IO
A Bower of Delights.
Nor make friends gods; but as you find
them, love,
And as you know them, keep them or
remove:
Beware of beauty and affect no ſlut;
And 'ware the worm before ye crack
the nut.
Be neither proud, nor envious, nor un-
chafte,
Left all too late, repentance overtake
you;
And take good heed how you your
wealth do waſte,
Left fools do fcoff you and your friends
forfake;
And then the beggar by the ſhoulders
fhake you :
Give unto all that afk; nor afkers, all;
And take heed how you climb, for
fear you fall.
Do well, be true, backbite no man, be
juft;
The Duck, the Drake, the Owl do
teach you fo;
Speak what you think, but no more
than you muſt,
Left unawares you make your friend
your foe :
A Bower of Delights.
I I
A
Be wary, fays the Crane, be wife, the
Crow:
Be gentle, humble, courteous, meek
and mild;
And you ſhall be your mother's bleffed
child.
Have all the week a pen behind your ear,
And wear your ſword on Sundays, 'tis
enough ;
Be not too venturous nor too full of fear,
Nor ftand too much upon a double ruff;
For fear a falling-band give you the
cuff.
Know well your horfe before you
fall to ride,
And bid God blefs the bridegroom
and the bride.
(No Whippinge.)
AGLAIA-A PASTORAL.
Sylvan Muſes, can ye fing
Of the beauty of the Spring?
Have ye ſeen on earth that fun
That a heavenly courſe hath run?
Have ye liv'd to fee thofe eyes
Where the pride of beauty lies?
12
A Bower of Delights.
Have ye heard that heavenly voice
That may make Love's heart rejoice ?
Have ye feen Aglaia, ſhe
Whom the world may joy to fee?
If
ye
have not ſeen all theſe,
Then ye do but labour leese;
While ye tune your pipes to play
But an idle roundelay ;
And in fad Diſcomfort's den
Everyone go bite her pen;
That she cannot reach the ſkill
How to climb that bleffed hill,
Where Aglaia's fancies dwell,
Where exceedings do excell,
And in fimple truth confefs
She is that fair fhepherdess
To whom faireft flocks a-field
Do their fervice duly yield:
On whom never Muſe hath gazèd
But in mufing is amazèd;
Where the honour is too much
= loſe
For their higheſt thoughts to touch;
Thus confefs, and get ye gone
To your places every one;
And in filence only ſpeak
When ye find your ſpeech too weak.
Bleffèd be Aglaia yet,
Though the Mufes die for it ;
Come abroad, ye bleffèd Mufes,

A Bower of Delights.
13
Ye that Pallas chiefly chooſes,
When ſhe would command a creature
In the honour of Love's nature.
For the ſweet Aglaia fair
All to ſweeten all the air,
Is abroad this bleffèd day;
Hafte ye, therefore, come away :
And to kill Love's maladies
Meet her with your melodies.
Flora hath been all about,
And hath brought her wardrobe out;
With her faireft, sweeteſt flowers,
All to trim up all your bowers.
Bid the fhepherds and their ſwains
See the beauty of their plains;
And command them with their flocks
To do reverence on the rocks;
Where they may ſo happy be
As her ſhadow but to fee:
Bid the birds in every buſh,
Not a bird to be at hush:
But to fit, and chirp and fing
To the beauty of the Spring:
Call the fylvan nymphs together,
Bid them bring their mufics hither:
Trees their barky filence break,
Crack yet, though they cannot ſpeak.
Bid the pureft, whiteſt ſwan
Of her feathers make her fan ;
C
14
A Bower of Delights.
Let the hound the hare go chaſe;
Lambs and rabbits run at baſe;
Flies be dancing in the fun,
While the filk-worm's webs are ſpun ;
Hang a fiſh on every hook
As fhe goes along the brook;
So with all your ſweeteſt powers
Entertain her in your bowers;
Where her ear may joy to hear
How ye make your fweeteft quire ;
And in all your ſweeteſt vein,
Still Aglaia ſtrike her ſtrain ;
But when she her walk doth turn,
Then begin as faft to mourn;
All your flowers and garlands wither,
Put up all your pipes together;
Never ftrike a pleaſing ſtrain
Till ſhe come abroad again.
(The Paffionate Shepheard.)
Jo
ANOTHER PASTORAL—
AGLAIA.
Who can live in heart ſo glad
As the merry country lad?
Who upon a fair green baulk
May at pleaſure fit and walk?
= bank
=

A Bower of Delights.
15
And amid the azure ſkies
See the morning fun ariſe!
While he hears in every ſpring =fount
How the birds do chirp and fing;
Or before the hounds in cry
See the hares go ſtealing by;
Or along the fhallow brook
Angling with a baited hook,
See the fishes leap and play
In a bleſſed ſunny day;
Or to hear the partridge call
Till ſhe have her covey all;
Or to ſee the ſubtle fox,
How the villain plies the box:
After feeding on his prey
How he cloſely ſneaks away,
Through the hedge and down the
furrow,
Till he gets into his burrow;
Then the bee to gather honey
And the little black-hair'd coney
On a bank for funny place
With her fore-feet waſh her face:
Are not thefe worth thouſands moe=
more
Than the courts of kings do know?
The true pleafing fpirits' rights
That may breed true Love's delights;
But with all thy happineſs
C 2
16
A Bower of Delights.
To behold that ſhepherdeſs
To whoſe eyes all ſhepherds yield
All the fairest of the field :
Fair Aglaia, in whoſe face
Lives the fhepherds' higheft grace;
In whofe worthy wonder's praiſe
See what her true ſhepherd fays :
She is neither proud nor fine,
But in ſpirit moſt divine;
She can neither lour nor leer,
But a fweeting, fmiling cheer;
She had never painted face,
But a ſweeter, ſmiling grace;
She can never love diffemble,
Truth doth fo her thoughts affemble,
That when wiſdom guides her will
She is kind and conftant ftill;
All in fum, fhe is this creature
Of that trueft comfort's nature
That doth fhew (but in exceedings)
How their praiſes had their breedings;
Let then poets fain their pleaſure,
In their fictions of Love's treaſure ;
Proud high ſpirits ſeek their graces
In their ideal painted faces;
Thy love's fpirits' lowlineſs
In affection's humbleneſs;
Under heav'n no happineſs
Seeks, but in this Shepherdefs.
"1

A Bower of Delights.
17
For whofe fake I fay and fwear
By the paffions that I bear,
Had I got a kingly grace,
I would leave my kingly place,
And in heart be truly glad
To become a country lad;
Hard to lie and go full bare,
And to feed on hungry fare;
So I might but live to be,
Where I might but fit to fee
Once a day, or all day long,
The ſweet ſubject of my ſong;
In Aglaia's only eyes
All my worldly Paradife.
(The Paffionate Shepheard.)
ANGLER-1597.
Among the walks of the weary, where
liberty and air are the beſt comforts of
the forlorn ſpirits of the world, it was
the hap of a poor Scholar (who, feeding
his imagination with the perfuafions of
contemplation, making his paffage down
a falling piece of ground fomewhat near
unto a little hill, faſt by a river fide,
whoſe ſtreams feemed to flide along the
18
A Bower of Delights.
banks of a lower platform) to eſpy a
human creature ftanding upright and
holding out his arm over the water;
whom approaching unto fomewhat near
and finding to be an ANGLER, he faluted
in this manner : True figure of Patience,
no offence to your conceit, how might
it fare with your cold exerciſe? The
fiſherman (as it might appear by his
anſwer) being better trained in the
variety of underſtanding than could be
contained within the compaſs of a caſt-
ing-net, upon the fudden made him this
reply:
Shadow of intelligence
To ſtay your further eloquence,
when fools gape for flies, mad men may
go a-fiſhing. Oh, Sir (quoth the
Scholar), I pray you enter not into
choler with them that meant not to
trouble your better humour ; but rather
do me the favour to inftruct me in the
reaſon that might lead you into this
loathing labour, than to take me up for
halting as I come at my journey's end.
I promiſe you I was half afraid that
Ovid's tales would have fallen out true,
and that Narciffus, or fome of his
A Bower of Delights.
19
1
kindred, had been fo in love with their
own ſhadow that he could not go from
the river fide; but coming near and
finding the deceit of my imagination,
confeffing my folly, I am to crave your
kindneſs in a little conference touching
the profit of this cold pleaſure and what
may be the fiſh that you angle for with
a fly. Sir, quoth the fiſherman, to turn
wit into choler is fuch a piece of
alchemy as I never found written in the
true rules of philoſophy; and to tell
truth, as I remember when I went to
the ſchool of underſtanding, I found this
a fentence of difcretion. It is but a
trifling of wit to be troubling of
humours; but fince you crave a favour-
able inftruction in a matter of ſmall
importance, being perfuaded that your
hafte is not great nor affairs weighty, if
you will fit down and bear me company,
we will feed the air with a little breath.
My good friend, quoth the Scholar, (for
fo I be glad to find you), to confeſs a
truth, neither is my hafte fuch but I
may ſtay well if not too long to your
liking; neither my affairs of ſuch im-
port but that I may put them off for a
time, to enjoy the benefit of your good
20
A Bower of Delights.
company. Then, Sir, quoth the fiſher-
man, let me tell you I fit here, as you
fee, angling for a fifh, and my bait a
fly for little fifhes, as bleaks [= blay,
Small water fish, roaches], and fuch like,
a fly will ferve the turn; but for greater
fiſhes, we must find out greater baits;
and with theſe flies we catch ſuch ſmall
fifh as ferve to bait our hooks for greater
fiſhes. Now if you can apply this
figure to a good fenfe, I will hold you
for a good ſcholar in ciphering.
(Wit's Trenchmour.*)
Art in Fishing.
Some fishes there are that keep alto-
gether in the deep, and they we muft
angle for with a worm: now to this
Curiously enough, of the superabundant
annotators of Izaac Walton, none seems to
have known this brilliant little piscatory book
of Breton. The late Mr. J. Payne Collier
warned his readers that the 'angler' was not a
'fisher'-proving that, as too frequently, he
had not seen the actual book, or at least not read
it.
The following is its (abridged) title page :
'Wits Trenchmour in a Conference had be-
twixt a Scholler and an Angler.
1597.'
•
·
•
A Bower of Delights.
21
worm we muſt have a line of hair as near
as we can of fuch a colour as may beſt
pleaſe the eye of the fish to play with.
Now to the line we muft have a
plummet, which muft guide the bait to
the bottom, which drawing now and
then up and down, at length ſo pleaſeth
the fish, as venturing upon the bait
anſwers the hope of our labour. Now
what think you of this figure? Truly,
Sir, quoth the Scholar, I think that
when wit is led away with humours
reaſon may be entangled in repentance,
and the pleafing of the eye is ſuch a
plague to the heart that the worm of
confcience brings ignorance to deſtruc-
tion, while in the Sea of Iniquity, the
devil angleth for his defires.
(Ibid.)
The Trout.
The Fiſherman, ſmiling at this anſwer,
fell to him with another piece of angling
in this manner. We have, quoth he, a
kind of fly made only of filk, which we
make our bait for a fifh called a TROUT;
with which we often deceive the foolish
22
A Bower of Delights.
}

thing as well as with the fly itſelf.
Alas, Sir! quoth the Scholar, this ſhows
but the vile courſe of the world, where
wit, finding out a fool, feeds his fancy
with fuch illufions as makes him fome-
times loſe himſelf with looking after a
fhadow as words are without fubftance
when they are laid for eafy believers.
(Ibid.)
'A LITTLE BRIEF AUTHORITY.
Let but a fellow in a fox-furr'd gown,
A greafy night-cap and a drivel'd
beard,
Grow but the bailiff of a fiſher-town,
And have a matter 'fore him to be
heard
;
Will not his frown make half a ſtreet
afear'd?
Yea, and the greateſt cod's-head
gape for fear,
He fhall be ſwallow'd by this ugly
bear.
Look but on beggars going to the ſtocks,
How Maſter conftable can march
before them;
A Bower of Delights.
23
•
And while the beadle maketh faft the
locks,
How bravely he can knave them and
bewhore them,
And not afford one word of pity for
them :
When it may be poor honeft filly
people
Muft make the church make curtſey
to the ſteeple.
Note but the beadle of a beggars'
'Spittle,
= hofpital
How (in his place) he can himſelf
advance;
And will not of his title loſe a tittle,
If any matter come in variance
To try the credit of his countenance :
For whatſoever the poor beggars ſay,
His is the word muſt carry all away.
Why, let a beggar but on cockhorſe fit,
Will he not ride like an ill-favour'd
king?
And will it not amaze a poor man's wit
That cuckoos teach the nightingale to
fing?
Oh, this fame Wealth is fuch a wicked
thing,

24
A Bower of Delights.
"Twill teach an owl in time to ſpeak
true Latin,
And make a friar forfwear our
Lady's matin.
(Pafquil's Madcappe.)
S&P
Other Word-etchings of Same.
Take but a peaſant newly from the cart,
That only lives by puddings, beans,
and peaſe;
Who never learnèd any other art
But how to drive his cattle to the leas,
And after work, to reft and take his
eaſe ;
Yet put this aſs into a golden hide
He ſhall be groom unto a handſome
bride.
Take but a raſcal with a roguiſh pate,
Who can but only keep a Counting-
book;
Yet if his reck'ning grow to fuch a rate,
That he can angle for the golden
hook ;
However fo the matter be mistook,
If he can clearly cover his deceit,
He may be held a man of deep
conceit.

A Bower of Delights.
25
Find out a villain, born and bred a knave,
That never knew where honefty
became ;
A drunken raſcal and a doggèd ſlave,
That all his wits to wickedneſs doth
frame,
And only lives in infamy and ſhame;
Yet let him tink upon the golden
pan,
His word may paſs yet for an honeſt
man.
Why, take a Fiddler but with half an
eye,
Who never knew if ela were a note;
And can but play a round as hey-do-gey
And that perhaps he only hath by rote;
Which now and then may hap to get a
groat :
Yet if his Crowde he fet with filver
ftuds
The other minstrels may go chew
their cuds.
(Pafquil's Madcappe.)
Ic
Ꭰ
26
A Bower of Delights.
!

BEAUTY.
Pretty twinkling ftarry eyes,
How did Nature firft devife
Such a sparkling in your fight
As to give Love ſuch delight,
As to make him, like a fly,
Play with looks until he die?
Sure ye were not made at firſt
For fuch mifchief to be curſt
As to kill Affection's care
That doth only truth declare ;
Where Worth's wonders never wither,
Love and Beauty live together.
Bleſſed eyes, then give your bleffing,
That in paffion's beft expreffing;
Love that only lives to grace ye,
May not fuffer pride deface ye;
But in gentle thought's directions
Show the power of your perfections.
(Paffionate Shepheard.)
CAVIARE [1597].
Another of the fine diſhes'
was a little
a great lady fent.
barrel of caviary; which was no fooner
•

A Bower of Delights.
27
C
opened and tafted, but quickly made up
again, and was fent back with this mef
fage: Commend me to my good lady,
and thank her honour, and tell her we
have black foap enough already; but if
it be any better thing, I befeech her
ladyſhip to bestow it upon a better
friend that can better tell how to uſe
it.' Now, if fuch be your fine diſhes,
I pray you let me alone with my country
fare.
(The Courtier and the Countrymen.)
[Explains Shakeſpeare's caviare to
the general,' Hamlet,' iv., fc. 2.]
،
C
WORD-PORTRAITS OF CHAR-
ACTERS.
A Worthy Lawyer.
A worthy Lawyer is the ſtudent of
knowledge, how to bring controverfies
into a conclufion of peace and out of
ignorance to gain understanding. He
divides time into ufes and cafes into
conftructions. He lays open obfcurities,
and is praiſed for the fpeech of truth,
and in the court of Confcience pleads
D 2
28
A Bower of Delights.
much in forma pauperis, for fmall fees.
He is a mean for the preſervation of
titles and the holding of poffeffions, and
a great inſtrument of peace in the judg-
ment of Impartiality. He is the client's
hope, in his cafe's pleading, and his
heart's comfort in a happy iffue. He is
the finder out of tricks in the craft of
ill confcience and the joy of the diſ-
treffed in the relief of juſtice. In fum,
he is a maker of peace among the ſpirits
of contention and a continuer of quiet
in the execution of the law.
(Good and Bad.)
M.
An Unworthy Lawyer.
An unlearned and unworthily called
a Lawyer, is the figure of a foot-poft,
who carries letters, but knows not what
is in them, only can read the ſuper-
fcriptions to direct them to their right
owners. So trudgeth this fimple clerk,
that can ſcarce read a cafe when it is
written, with his handfull of papers,
from one Court to another and from
one Counſellor's chamber to another,
when by his good payment for his pains,
1
A Bower of Delights.
29
he will be fo faucy as to call himſelf a
Solicitor. But what a taking are poor
clients in when this too-much-trufted
cunning companion, better read in
Pierce Ploughman' than in 'Ployden'
and in the Play of 'Richard the Third'
than in the Pleas of Edward the Fourth,
perfuades them all is fure when he is
fure of all and in what a miſery are
the poor men when upon a nihil dicit,
becauſe, indeed, this poor fellow nihil
poteft dicere, they are in danger of an
execution before they know wherefore
they are condemned! But I wiſh all
fuch more wicked than witty unlearned
in the Law and abufers of the fame, to
look a little better into their confciences
and to leave their crafty courſes, left
when the Law indeed lays them open,
inſtead of carrying papers in their hands
they wear not papers on their heads,
and inſtead of giving ear to their clients'
cauſes, or rather eyes into their purſes,
they have ne'er an ear left to hear
withal, nor good eye to fee withal; or
at leaſt honeft face to look out withal;
but as the graffhoppers of Egypt, be
counted the caterpillars of England, and
not the fox that ftole the gooſe, but the
30
A Bower of Delights.
great fox that ftole the farm from the
gander.
(Good and Bad.)
An Honeft Man.
An honeft man is like a plain coat,
which without welt [=fold] or guard,
keepeth the body from wind and
weather, and being well made fits him
beft that wears it; and where the ftuff
is more regarded than the faſhion, there
is not much ado in the putting of it on.
So, the mind of an honeft man, without
trick or compliments, keeps the credit
of a good confcience from the ſcandal
of the World and the worm of Iniquity;
which being wrought by the Workman
of Heaven, fits him beft that wears it
to His fervice; and where Virtue is
more eſteemed than Vanity, it is put on
and worn with that eaſe that ſhows the
excellency of the Workman. His ſtudy
is virtue, his word truth, his life the
paffage of patience, and his death the
reft of the ſpirit. His travel is a
pilgrimage, his way is plainnefs, his
pleaſure peace, and his delight is love,

A Bower of Delights.
31
His care is his confcience, his wealth
is his credit, his charge is his charity,
and his content is his kingdom. In
fum, he is a diamond among jewels, a
phoenix among lords, an unicorn among
beafts, and a faint among men.
(Good and Bad.)
So
A Worthy Phyfician.
A worthy phyfician is the enemy of
fickneſs, in purging nature from cor-
ruption. His action is moft in feeling
of pulfes and his diſcourſe chiefly of
the nature of diſeaſes. He is a great
ſearcher out of fimples, and accordingly
makes his compofition. He perfuades
to abſtinence and patience for the benefit
of health, while purging and bleeding
are the chief courfes of his counfel.
The Apothecary and the Chirurgeon
are his two chief attendants, with whom
conferring upon time, he grows tem-
perate in his cures. Surfeits and wan-
tonnefs are great agents for his employ-
ment, when, by the fecret of his ſkill
out of others' weakneſs he gathers his
own ftrength. In fum, he is a neceffary

32
A Bower of Delights.
member for an unneceffary malady, to
find a diſeaſe and to cure the difeafed.
(Good and Bad.)
An Unworthy Phyſician.
An unlearned and fo unworthy Phyfi-
cian is a kind of horſe-leech, whoſe cure
is moſt in drawing of blood and a deſ-
perate purge, either to cure or to kill as
it hits. His difcourfe is moft of the
cures that he hath done, and them afar
off; and not a recipe under a hundred
pounds, though it be not worth three
half-pence. Upon the market-day he is
much haunted with urinals; where, if
he find anything (though he know
nothing), yet he will fay fomewhat;
which, if it hit to fome purpoſe, with a
few fuftian words he will feem a piece
of ſtrange ſtuff. He is never without
old merry tales and ftale jefts to make
old folks laugh, and comfits and plums
in his pocket to pleaſe little children;
yea, and he will be talking of com-
plexions, though he know nothing of
their diſpoſitions; and if his medicine
do a feat, he is a made man among

A Bower of Delights.
33
fools. But, being wholly unlearned and
ofttimes unhoneft, let me thus briefly
defcribe him. He is a plain kind of
mountebank and a true quack-raker ;
a danger for the fick to deale withal
and a dizard [=fool, light-headed] in
the world to talk withal.
(Good and Bad.)
Jo
A Worthy Merchant.
A worthy merchant is the heir of
adventure, whofe hopes hang much
upon wind. Upon a wooden horſe he
rides through the world, and in a
merry gale makes a path through the
feas. He is a difcoverer of countries
and a finder out of commodities, refo-
lute in his attempts and royal in his
expenſes. He is the life of traffic and
the maintainer of trade, the failor's
mafter and the foldier's friend. He is
the exerciſe of the Exchange, the
honour of Credit, the obfervation of
Time, and the underſtanding of Thrift.
His ftudy is Number, his care his
accounts, his comfort his conſcience,
34
A Bower of Delights.
and his wealth his good name. He
fears not Scylla and fails cloſe by
Charybdis, and having beaten out a
ftorm, rides at reft in a harbour. By
his fea-gain he makes his land-pur-
chafe, and by the knowledge of trade.
finds the key of his treaſure. Out of
his travels he makes his diſcourſes, and
from his eye-obſervations brings the
models of architectures. He plants the
earth with foreign fruits, and knows at
home what is good abroad. He is neat
in apparel, modeft in demeanour, dainty
in diet and civil in his carriage. In
fum, he is the pillar of a city, the
enricher of a country, the furniſher of
a Court, and the worthy fervant of a
King.
(Good and Bad.)
A Goward.
A coward is the child of Fear. He
was begotten in cold blood, when
Nature had much ado to make up a
creature like a man. His life is a kind
of fickneſs, which breeds a kind of palfy
in the joints, and his death the terror of

A Bower of Delights.
35
his confcience with the extreme weak-
neſs of his faith. He loves peace as his
life, for he fears a fword in his foul. If
he cut his finger he looketh preſently
for the fign, and if his head ache he is
ready to make his will. A report of a
cannon ftrikes him flat on his face, and
a clap of thunder makes him a ſtrange
metamorphofis. Rather than he will fight
he will be beaten, and if his legs
will help him he will put his arms to no
trouble. He makes love commonly
with his purfe, and brags moſt of his
maiden-head. He will not marry but
into a quiet family, and not too fair a
wife, to avoid quarrels. If his wife
frown upon him he fighs, and if ſhe give
him an unkind word he weeps. He loves
not the horns of a bull, nor the paws of
a bear; and if a dog bark he will not
come near the houſe. If he be rich he
is afraid of thieves, and if he be poor he
will be ſlave to a beggar. In fum, he
is the fhame of manhood, the diſgrace
of Nature, the ſcorn of reaſon, and the
hate of honour.
(Good and Bad.)
島​の
​36
A Bower of Delights.
A Drunkard.
A Drunkard is a noun adjective; for
he cannot ftand alone by himſelf; yet
in his greateſt weakneſs a great trier of
ftrength, whether health or fickneſs will
have the upper hand in a furfeit. He
is a fpectacle of deformity, and a fhame
of Humanity; a view of Sin and a grief
of Nature. He is the annoyance of
Modefty and the trouble of Civility,
the ſpoil of Wealth and the ſpite of
Reafon. He is only the Brewer's agent
and the ale-houſe benefactor ; the
beggar's companion and the conſtable's
trouble. He is his wife's woe, his
children's forrow, his neighbour's fcoff,
and his own ſhame. In fum, he is a
tub of fwill, a ſpirit of fleep, a picture
of a beaſt, and a monſter of a man.
(Good and Bad.)
Jo
An Untrained Soldier.
An untrained Soldier is like a young
hound, that when he firft falls to hunt
he knows not how to lay his noſe to the
earth; who having his name put in a
A Bower of Delights.
37
book, and marched twice about a market-
place, when he comes to a piece of
ſervice knows not how to bestow him-
felf. He marches as if he were at
plough, carries his pike like a pikeſtaff,
and his fword before him for fear of
lofing from his fide. If he be a ſhot, he
will be rather ready to fay a grace over
his piece, and ſo to diſcharge his hands
of it, than to learn how to diſcharge it
with a grace. He puts on his armour
over his ears like a waiſtcoat, and wears
his murrian [=morion_or_helmet] like
a nightcap. When he is quartered in
the field he looks for his bed, and when
he fees his provant [= proviſions] he is
ready to cry for his victuals; and ere he
know well where he is, wiſhes heartily
he were at home again, with hanging
down his head as if his heart were in his
hoſe. He will fleep till a drum or a
deadly bullet awake him; and ſo carry
himſelf in all companies, that till martial
diſcipline have ſeaſoned his underſtand-
ing, he is like a cipher among figures,
an owl among birds, a wife man among
fools, and a ſhadow among men.
(Good and Bad.)
E

38
A Bower of Delights.
JESUS CHRIST.
He came from high to live with me
below;
He gave me life and fhewed me
greateft love;
Unworthy I fo high a worth to know
Who left chief blifs a bafer choice to
prove;
I ſaw His wounds, yet did I not be-
lieve Him,
And for His goodneſs with my fins did
grieve Him.
I ſaw Him faultlefs, yet I did offend
Him;
I ſaw Him wrong'd, yet did not excufe
Him;
I faw His foes, yet fought not to defend
Him;
I had His bleffings, yet I did abuſe Him.
But was it mine, or my forefather's
deed?
Whofe'er it was, it makes my heart to
bleed.
To fee the feet that travelled for our
good;
To ſee the hands that brake the lively
bread;
=living
A Bower of Delights.
39
To fee the head, whereon our honour
ſtood;
To fee the fruit, whereon our ſpirits
fed;
Feet pierc'd, hands bor'd, and His
head all bleeding;
Who doth not die with fuch a forrow
reading?
He plac'd all reft, yet had no reſting-
place;
He heal'd each pain, yet liv'd in fore
diftrefs;
Deferv'd all good, yet driven to great
difgrace;
Gave all hearts joy, Himſelf in heavi-
nefs;
Suffer'd them live, by whom Himſelf
was flain
;
Lord, who can live to fee fuch love
again ?
A Virgin's child by Virtue's power
conceiv'd;
A harmleſs man that lived for all men's
good;
A faithful friend that never faith
deceiv'd ;
An heavenly fruit for heart's eſpecial
food;
E 2
40
A Bower of Delights.
A ſpirit all of excellence divine ;
Such is the effence of this love of
mine.
Whose manfion's heaven, yet lay within
a manger;
Who gave all food, yet fuck'd a virgin's
breaſt;
Who could have kill'd, yet fled a
threaten'd danger;
Who fought our quiet by His own
unreft;
Who died for them that highly did
offend Him;
And lives for them that cannot com-
prehend Him.
Who came no further than His Father
fent Him,
And did fulfil but what He did command
Him;
Who pray'd for them that proudly did
torment Him,
-
For telling truth to what they did
demand Him ;
Who did all good that humbly did
entreat Him,
And bear their blows that did un-
kindly beat Him.
(The Countee of Penbrook's [Pem-
broke's] Paffion.)

A Bower of Delights.
4I
Only Chrift.
Thus would I ſpend in fervice of my
God,
The ling'ring hours of theſe few days
of mine,
To fhow how fin and death are over-
trod,
But by the virtue of the Power
divine ;
Our thoughts but vain, our ſubſtance
flime and duft,
And only Chriſt for our Eternal
Truft.
(I would and I would not.)
$ap
CHRISTMAS CAROL.
A gentleman being on Chriſtmas Eve
in a very folitary place, among very
folemn company, where was but ſmall
cheer, leſs mirth, and leaſt muſic, being
very earneſtly entreated to fing a
Chriſtmas Carol, with much ado fang as
followeth :
Now Chriſtmas draweth near, and moſt
men make good cheer,
With heigh-ho, care away!

42
A Bower of Delights.
I, like a fickly mome, in drowſy dumps
at home,
Will naught but faſt and pray.
Some fing and dance for life, fome card
and dice as rife,
Some ufe old Chriſtmas games;
But I, oh wretched wight! in dole both
day and night
Muft dwell; the world fo frames.
In Court what pretty toys, what fine and
pleaſant joys,
To pafs the time away!
In country naught but care; four
cheeſe-curds chiefeft fare
For wine a bowl of whey.
For every dainty diſh, of fleſh or elſe of
fish,
And for your drink in Court,
A difh of young fried frogs, fod houghs of
mezled hogs,
= meazled, diseased
A cup of fmall-tap wort.
***
And for each courtly fight, each ſhow
that may delight
The eye or elſe the mind;
In country thorns and brakes, and many
miry lakes,
Is all the good you find.

A Bower of Delights.
43
And for fine enteries, halls, chambers,
galleries,
And lodgings many moe;
Here deſert woods and plains, where no
delight remains,
To walk in to and fro.
In Court, for to be fhort, for every
pretty ſport
That may the heart delight;
In country many a grief, and ſmall or
no relief,
To aid the wounded wight.
And in this defert place, I, wretch! in
woful cafe,
This merry Chriſtmas time,
Content myſelf perforce to rest my
careful corfe,
And so I end my rime.
(AFlourish upon Fancy, 1577-)
2
Jo
ANOTHER CHRISTMAS SONG.
In the latter end of Chriſtmas the
fame gentleman was likewiſe defired to
fing; and, although against his will, was
content to fing as followeth :
!
44
A Bower of Delights.
The Chriſtmas now is paft, and I have
kept my faft,
With prayer every day ;
And, like a country clown, with nod-
ding up and down,
Have paſſed the time away.
As for old Chriſtmas games, or dancing
with fine dames,
Or ſhows, or pretty plays;
A folemn oath I fwear, I came
where they were,
Not all theſe holy-days.
not
I did not fing one note, except it were
by rote,
Still buzzing like a bee;
To eaſe my heavy heart of fome though
little fmart,
For want of other glee.
And as for pleaſant wine, there was no
drink fo fine,
For to be tafted here;
Full fimple was my fare, if that I ſhould
compare,
The fame to Chriftmas cheer.
I faw no kind of fight that might my
mind delight,
Believe me, noble dame ;

A Bower of Delights.
45
But everything I faw did fret at woe
my maw,
To think upon the ſame.
Upon fome bufhy balk full fain I was
to walk,
In woods, from tree to tree,
For want of better room; but fince my
fatal doom
Hath ſo appointed me ;
I ftood therewith content, the Chrift-
mas full was ſpent,
In hope that God will fend
A better yet next year, my heavy heart
to cheer;
And fo I make an end.
(Ibid.)
THE CITY OF GOD (DE CIVI-
TATE DEI) OR HEAVENLY
JERUSALEM.
And on they walk, until anon they came
Unto a CHURCH,-not built of lime or
ftone,
But that true Church of that immortal
fame
That is world's wonder, and heaven's
love alone :
46
A Bower of Delights.
Whoſe head is Chrift, whofe martyrs are
His pillars,
And all whofe members are His Word's
well-willers.
The gate is Grace, Contrition is the
key;
The lock is Love, the porter Peni-
tence;
Where humble Faith muft heavenly
favour ſtay
Till Pity talk with Virtue's patience :
While angels' fighs the finner's way
devife,
To have his entrance into Paradife.
Which is indeed the plot of all perfec-
tion,
Drawn by the compaſs of divine con-
ceit;
Whoſe line is life laid by His love's
direction,
Who makes all fleſh upon the ſpirit
wait;
Whofe flowers are fruits of Faith's
eternal favour,
Sweet to the foul in ever-living favour.
A Bower of Delights.
47
Now in this ground doth live this
glorious King,
Of Mercy's life amidſt the fire of
Love;
Who, as the fun doth caufe the flowers
to fpring,
So, by His fire, makes Faith her com-
fort prove;
When heavenly Truth doth Virtue's
root fo nouriſh,
That her fair flowers fhall grow and
ever flouriſh.
Now here the herbs, were wholeſome
fentences,
Which purge the heart of every idle
thought;
And for each graſs, a grace of wit and
fenfes,
By heavenly bleffing from the ſpirit
brought :
In midft whereof the Well of Life doth
fpring,
About the which the angels fit and
fing.
Here is the light that makes the fun to
fhine;
Here is the brightneſs of the morning
light;
C
48
A Bower of Delights.
Here is the fun that never doth decline;
Here is the day that never hath a
night;
Here is the hope of everlaſting blifs,
And comfort, that beyond all knowledge
is.
Here never weed had ever power to
grow,
Nor ever worm could make an herb
to wither;
But in the path where all perfections go,
Virtue and Nature kindly went to-
gether;
And heavenly dews did all the fruits fo
cheriſh
That neither fruit, nor herb, nor flower
could perish.
Here never forrow for the thought of
loffes ;
Here ever labour and yet never
weary;
Here never fear of any fatal croffes ;
Here never mourning and here ever
merry;
Here never hunger, thirft, nor heat nor
cold;
But take enough, and ſtill the ſtore doth
hold.

A Bower of Delights.
49
Here is the ſky, the fun, the moon and
ftars,
Set for a dial by the heaven's direc-
tion;
Here never cloud their brighteſt ſhining
bars,
But ſhow their brightneſs in their beſt
perfection;
Here is in fum the ſweeteſt light of all,
From which all lights have their original.
Here never foot of wicked Pride pre-
fum'd,
But is excluded heavenly Paradife ;
Here is the air with ſweeteſt ſweets per-
fum'd,
While finners' fighs is bleffèd facrifice:
When faithful fouls in angels' arms
embraced
Are in the eye of glorious favour graced.
Here are the virgins playing, angels
finging;
The faints rejoicing and the martyrs
joying;
Here facred comforts to the confcience
fpringing,
And no one thought of diſcontent
annoying;
F
50
A Bower of Delights.
Here hurt was none and fear of death
is never,
But here is love and here is life for ever.
Here Sorrow's tears do quench the heart
of Sin;
And fire of Love doth kindle life again ;
Here doth the ground of glory firft
begin,
And here is Virtue in her brighteſt
vein:
Here is in fum the ftate of Honour's
ſtory,
And of all goodneſs the eternal glory.
And here is, lo, that Heavenly Paradife,
Whereto the Pilgrim made his Pil-
grimage;
Where facred Mercy firft did folemnize
The ſpirit to be flesh in marriage;
And here the heart did find his ſpirit
bleft,
To bring the ſenſes to eternal reſt.
(Pilgrimage of Paradiſe.)
Jo

A Bower of Delights.
51
ELIZABETHAN-JACOBEAN
CLERGY-1603.
Give me leave a little. Some take
upon them to be Divines which only
make the name of God a cloak for their
knavery. But theſe may rather be called
lurch-men than Church-men, who, as
they are not troubled with much learn-
ing, ſo they have no more honeſty than
they may well away withal. But theſe
who take eleven for tenths, and yet can
ſcarce read any other names than are
written in their Eafter-books, is it not
pity but their places were taken away
from them, and given to them that
could and would take more careful
pains in them ?
(A Mad World, my Mafters.)
Parfon.
It was my hap in a little field near
unto a Church in a country town to
overtake a little old man in a gown, a
wide caſſock, a night-cap, and a corner-
cap, by his habit feeming to be a Divine;
of whom I was in hope to find that
F 2
52
A Bower of Delights.
facred fount of charity, that might be
fome comfort on my return; whom
beginning to falute with a few Latin
words, My friend, quoth he, do not
deceive yourſelf, I underſtand not your
Greek; we here that dwell far from
the City, and are not troubled with fine
ears to our reading, care for no more
but to diſcharge our duties in our places
-I mean of a Vicar, for I am no better.
The Parfon is a man of greater place
and of fair poffeffions, who dwelleth a
great way hence, and therefore feldom
comes into this country. I ufe twice
a year to bring here his rent and per-
haps a couple of capons againſt Chriſt-
mas for my landlady, and that is as
much as they look for. And for my
parishioners, they are a kind of people
that love a pot of ale better than a
pulpit, and a corn-rick better than a
church-door; who, coming to divine
ſervice more for faſhion than devotion,
are contented after a little capping and
kneeling, coughing and fpitting, to help
me to fing out a pfalm, and fleep at the
fecond leffon, or awake to ftand up at the
Goſpel and fay Amen at the fear of
God'; and ſtay till the banns of matri-

A Bower of Delights.
53
mony be aſked, or till the clerk hath
cried a pied ftray bullock, a black
ſheep, or a gray mare; and then for
that fome dwell far off, be glad to be
gotten home to dinner. Now, we that
have no more living than will hardly
ſerve to keep a poor home, are not in
cafe, God help us, to do anything for
our poorer brethren; and therefore, my
good friend, trouble us not with other
ſpeech than we underſtand, left if you
come before the conftable, he take you
for fome conjurer, and fo bring yourſelf
to fome trouble, which I would be forry
to fee; for truly you feem a handſome
man. God hath done his part for you ;
God be with you.
(A Mad World, my Mafters.)
COUNTRY FOLKS--1618.
At our meetings on the holidays be-
tween our lads and the wenches, fuch
true mirth at honeft meetings, ſuch
dancing on the green, in the market-
houſe, or about the May-pole, where
the young folks smiling kifs at every
54
A Bower of Delights.
turning, and the old folks checking with
laughing at their children, when dancing
for the garland, playing at ftool-ball for
a tanfie and a banquet of curds and
cream, with a cup of old nappy ale;
matter of ſmall charge, with a little
reward of the Piper, after cafting of
fheep's eyes and faith and troth for a
bargain, clapping of hands are feals to
the truth of hearts, when a pair of
gloves and a handkerchief are as good
as the beſt obligation, with a cap and a
curtfey; here ye have maids to milking,
and fo merrily goes the day away.
Again we have hay in the barn, horfes
in the ſtable, oxen in the ſtall, ſheep in
the pen, hogs in the fty, corn in the
garner, cheeſe in the loft, milk in the
dairy, cream in the pot, butter in the
diſh, ale in the tub, aqua vitæ in the
bottle, beef in the brine, brawn in the
foufe, bacon in the roof, herbs in the
garden, water at our doors, whole
clothes to our backs, fome money in our
coffers; and having all this, if we have
God withal, what in God's name can
we defire to have more ?
(Courtier and Countryman.)
A Bower of Delights.
55
WISE COUNSELS.
Let not a fhaft, a bowl, a card nor die,
Take up thy rent a year before the
day;
A parrot's feathers, nor a falcon's eye,
Make thee too faſt to throw thy
wealth away;
Left had I wift' do keep fool's holy-
day :
Efteem a horſe according to his
pace,
But lose no wages on a wild-
gooſe chaſe.
Tear not thy throat with holloing to
hounds,
Nor ride thy horſe to death to ſeek a
hawk:
Spoil not thine eyes with levelling of
grounds,
Nor bar thine honeft neighbour of
his walk;
But take no pleaſure with a fool to talk;
But hearken to the fhepherds
what they fain,*
Both of the ſunſhine and
fhower of rain.
a
= to say. Cf. Raleigh, 'Yet what is love,
good shepherd, sain ?'
56
A Bower of Delights.
Feed not too groſs, and drink not over-
much;
The ſparing diet is the ſpirit's feaſt :*
The pitch and tar are dangerous to
touch,
And want of reafon makes a man a
beaſt:
Of forced evils ever chooſe the leaſt.
Be warned by a little from the
more,
And take heed of an inward
bleeding fore.
Wound not the confcience of a woful
heart,
Nor take delight in doing injury ;
But eaſe the fick of his conſuming ſmart,
And keep the poor
man in his
memory;
So live, fo die; fo live and never die;
Relieve thy friend, but not with
all thou haft,
Left thou be driven to ſeek to
him in faft.
(The Mother's Bleſſing.)
* Cf. 'Il Penseroso '-'Spare fast that oft
with gods doth diet.'
A Bower of Delights.
57
COUNTRY PLAYERS.
Tell country Players, that old paltry
jeſts,
Pronounced in a painted motley coat,
Fills all the world fo full of cuckoo's
nefts,
That nightingales can ſcarcely fing a
note :
Oh, bid them turn their minds to better
meanings;
Fields are all forry that give no better
gleanings.
(Pafquil's Meffage.)
DARWIN-LIKE OBSERVATION
OF LITTLE CREATURES.
८
To ſee the greyhound courfe, the hound
in chaſe,
Whilft little dormouſe ſleepeth out
her time ;
The lambs and rabbits ſweetly run at
baſe,
Whilft higheſt trees the little ſquirrels
climb;
58
A Bower of Delights.
"
The crawling worms out-creeping in
the fhowers;
And how the fnails do climb the lofty
towers.*
(Countess of Pembroke's Paffion, ft. 98.)
A DAY IN MERRY ENGLAND
OF THE OLDEN TIME.
The Morning.
It is now Morning, and Time hath
wound up the wheels of the day's watch,
while the lark, the fun's trumpet, calls
the labourer to his work. There is joy
and comfort through the whole world,
that the ſpirits of life are awaked out of
their dead fleep. It is the bleſſed time
of Heaven, in which the beſt things are
begun, while Nature goes to Experience
for the better perfection of her busfineſs.
The fun now begins to draw open the
curtain of his pavilion, and with the
* As a commentary on the last of the 'snail,'
I once saw on a 'lofty,' indeed on the loftiest
of the mysterious stones of Stonehenge, within
a few inches (exacerbatingly misprinted ' miles
in our edition of Breton's Works in loco) of the
summit, a common shell 'snail.’
>

A Bower of Delights.
59
heat of his beams draws. up the unwhole-
fome mifts in the air. The mother-
earth is recovered of her cold fickneſs,
and fends forth her fair flowers to per-
fume the infected air. Now the
forcerefs, with her magic art, puts her
charms to filence, and the birds of the
woods make mufic to the poor traveller.
Now begin the wits of the wife and the
limbs of ftrength, to compafs the world
and make art honourable. Thieves now
are either caved [ = hidden in caves] or
impriſoned, and knowledge of comfort
puts Care to a non plus. The beafts of
the forefts ufe the filence of fear, and
the wolf like a dog dare not look out
of his den. The worms into the earth
and the toads into the waters, fly for
fear of their heads. This is a time
that I joy in, for I think no time loft
but in fleep. And now have imagina-
tions their beft means to attire them-
felves in the golden livery of their beſt
graces, to which the thought is as no
time by deprivation of action. I con-
clude, it is in itſelf a bleffed ſeaſon, a
difperfing of the firſt darkneſs and the
Dial of Alexander. Farewell.
(Fantasticks.)
бо
A Bower of Delights.
One of the Glock.
It is now the first hour, and Time is,
as it were, ſtepping out of darkneſs and
ftealing towards the day. The cock
calls to his hen, and bids her beware of
the fox; and the Watch, having walked
the ſtreets, takes a nap upon a ftall.
The bellman calls to the maids to look
to their locks, their fire and their light,
and the child in the cradle calls to the
nurſe for a dug [= the breaſt]. The cat
fits watching behind the cupboard for a
mouſe, and the flea fucks on fweet fleſh
till he is ready to burft with the blood.
The fpirits of the ftudious ſtart out of
their dreams, and if they cannot fall
afleep again, then to the book and the
wax-candle. The dog at the door frays
the thief from the houſe, and the thief
within the houſe mayhap be about his
bufinefs. In fome places bells are rung
to certain orders; but the quiet ſleeper
never tells the clock. Not to dwell too
long upon it, I hold it the farewell of
the night and the forerunner of the day,
the ſpirit's watch and Reaſon's work-
mafter. Farewell.
(Fantaſticks.)
A Bower of Delights.
61
Two of the Clock.
It is now the fecond hour, and the
point of the dial hath ſtopt over the
firſt ſtroke, and now Time begins to
draw back the curtain of the Night.
The cock again calls to the hen, and
the Watch begin to buſtle toward their
diſcharge. The Bellman hath made a
great part of his walk, and the Nurfe
begins to huggle the child to the dug.
The cat fits playing with the mouſe
which ſhe hath catched, and the dog
with his barking wakes the fervants of
the houſe. The ftudious now are near
upon waking, and the thief will be gone
for fear of being taken. The Forefters
now be about their walks, and
yet ſtealers
ſometime cozen the keepers. Warreners
now begin to draw homeward, and far-
dwellers from the town will be on the
way to the market. The soldier now
looks towards the Court de Garde, and
the Corporal takes care for the relief of
the Watch. The earneft fcholar will
be now at his book, and the thrifty
huſbandman will roufe towards his rifing.
The ſeaman will now look out for light,
and if the wind be fair, he calls for a
G

62
A Bower of Delights.
can of beer. The fifhermen now take
the benefit of the tide, and he that bobs
for eels will not be without worms. In
fum, I hold it much of the nature of the
first hour, but fomewhat better. And,
to conclude, I think it the enemy of
ſleep and the entrance to exerciſe. Fare-
well.
(Fantasticks.)
At three of the Clock.
It is now the third hour, and the
windows of heaven begin to open, and
the fun begins to colour the clouds in
the ſky, before he fhew his face to the
World. Now are the ſpirits of life, as
it were, riſen out of death. The cock
calls the fervants to their day's work,
and the graſs horfes are fetched from
the paſtures. The milkmaids begin to
look towards their dairy, and the good
houſewife begins to look about the houſe.
The porridge-pot is on for the ſervants'
breakfast, and hungry ftomachs will foon
be ready for their victuals. The spar-
row begins to chirp about the houſe, and
the birds in the bufhes will bid them

A Bower of Delights.
63
welcome to the field. The shepherd
fets on the pitch on the fire, and fills
his tarpot ready for his flock.
The
wheel and the reel begin to be fet ready,
and a merry fong makes the work feem
eafy. The ploughman falls to harneſs
his horſes, and the thruſhes begin to look
toward the barn. The fcholar that
loves learning will be hard at his book,
and the labourer by great [=by quantity,
not daily wage] will be walking towards
his work. In brief, it is a parcel of
time, to good purpoſe, the exerciſe of
Nature, and the entrance into Art.
Farewell.
(Fantaſticks.)
*
Jo
Four of the Clock.
It is now the fourth hour, and the
fun begins to fend her beams abroad,
whofe glimmering brightneſs no eye
can behold. Now crows the cock
luftily, and claps his wings for joy at the
light, and with his hens leaps lightly
from his rooft. Now are the horſes at
their chaff and provender; the ſervants
at breakfaſt ; the milkmaid gone to the
G 2
64
A Bower of Delights.
field, and the ſpinner at the wheel; and
the fhepherd with his dog going toward
the fold. Now the beggars rouſe them
out of the hedges and begin their morn-
ing craft; but if the conftable come,
beware the ſtocks. The birds now
begin to flocke, and the fparhawk begins
to prey for his eery. The thresher
begins to ftretch his long arms, and the
thriving labourer will fall hard to his
work. The quick-witted brain will be
quoting of places, and the cunning work-
man will be trying of his fkill. The
hounds begin to be coupled for the
chafe, and the spaniels follow the fal-
coner to the field. Travellers begin
to look toward the ftable, where an
honeft oftler is waiting his reward.
The foldier now is upon difcharge of
his Watch, and the captain with his
company may take as good reſt as they
can. In fum, I thus conclude of it: I
hold it the meffenger of action and the
watch of heaven. Farewell.
(Fantaſticks.)
Ic
A Bower of Delights.
65
Five of the Clock.
It is now five of the clock, and the
fun is going apace upon his journey;
and fie, fluggards, who would be aſleep!
The bells ring to prayer, and the ſtreets
are full of people, and the highways are
ftored with travellers. The fchollars
are up and going to ſchool, and the
rods are ready for the truants' correc-
tion. The maids are at milking and
the fervants at plough, and the wheel
goes merrily while the miſtreſs is by.
The capons and the chickens must be
raiſed without door, and the hogs cry
till they have their fwill. The ſhepherd
is almoft gotten to his fold, and the herd
begins to blow his horn through the
town [= farmstead]. The blind fiddler
is up
with his dance and his fong, and
the alehouſe-door is unlocked for good
fellows. The hounds begin to find after
the hare, and horfe and foot follow after
the cry. The traveller now is well on
his way, and if the weather is fair he
walks with the better cheer. The
carter merrily whiftles to his horſe, and
the boy with his fling cafts ftones at the
crows. The lawyer now begins to look

66
A Bower of Delights.
on his cafe, and if he give good counſel
he is worthy of his fee. In brief, not
to ſtay too long upon it, I hold it the
neceffity of Labour and the note of
Profit. Farewell.
(Fantaſticks.)
DS
Six of the Glock.
It is now the fixth hour, the ſweet
time of the Morning, and the fun at
every window calls the fleepers from
their beds. The marygold begins to
open her leaves, and the dew on the
ground doth fweeten the air. The
Falconer now meets with many a fair
flight, and the hare and the hounds
have made the huntſmen good ſport.
The fhops in the city begin to show
their wares, and the market-people have
taken their places. The ſcholars now
have their forms, and whofoever cannot
fay his leffon muft reverently look for
abſolution. The Forefter now is draw-
ing home to his lodge, and if his deer
be gone he may draw after a cold ſcent.
Now begins the curfed miſtreſs to put
her girls to their taſks, and a lazy hilding
-
A Bower of Delights.
67
[= idle jade or hindering] will do hurt
among good women. Now the mower
falls to whetting of his fcythe and the
beaters of hemp give a ho! to every
blow. The ale knight is at his cup ere
he can well fee his drink, and the
beggar is as muddle-tongued as if he
had been at it all day. The fiſhermen
are now at the crier for oyfters, and
they will never lin [= ceaſe] crying
while they have one in their baſket. In
fum, not to be tedious, I hold it the
fluggard's fhame and the labourer's
praiſe. Farewell.
(Fantasticks.)
Seven of the Clock.
It is now the feventh hour, and Time
begins to fet the World hard to work.
The milkmaids in their dairy to their
butter and their cheefe; the plough-
men to their ploughs and their harrows
in the field; the fcholars to their
leffons; the lawyers to their cafes; the
merchants to their accounts; the fhop-
men to What lack you? and every
trade to his buſineſs. Oh, 'tis a world
68
A Bower of Delights.
:
to ſee how life leaps about the limbs of
the healthful: none but finds ſomething
to do the wife to ftudy, the ftrong to
labour; the fantaſtic to make love; the
poet to make verfes; the player to con
his part; and the Mufician to try his
notes. Every one in his quality, and
according to his condition, fets himſelf
to ſome exerciſe either of the body or
the mind. And therefore, ſince it is a
time of much labour and great uſe, I
will thus briefly conclude it: I hold it
the enemy of idleness and employer of
induftry. Farewell.
(Fantafticks.)
Ic
Eight of the Clock.
It is now the eighth hour, and good
ſtomachs are ready for a breakfaſt. The
huntſman now calls in his hounds, and
at the fall of the deer the hours go
apace. Now begin the horſes to breathe
and the labourer to fweat, and with
quick hands work rides apace. Now the
ſcholars make a charm in the ſchools,
and ergo keeps a ſtir in many a falfe argu-
Now the chapmen fall to furniſh
ment.
-

A Bower of Delights.
69
the fhops, the market people make away
with their wares; the tavern-haunters
taſte of the topers' wine, and the nappy
ale makes many a drunken noll. Now
the threſher begins to fall to his break-
faſt, and eat apace, and work apace, rids
the corn quickly away. Now the piper
looks what he hath gotten since day, and
the beggar, if he have hit well, will have
a pot of the beſt.
The traveller now
begins to water his horſe, and if he was
early up, perhaps a bait will do well.
The oftler now makes clean his ftables,
and if-guefts come in he is not without
his welcome. In conclufion, for all I
find in it, I hold it the mind's travail
and the body's toil. Farewell.
(Fantafticks.)
Jo
Nine of the Clock.
It is now the ninth hour, and the fun
is gotten up well toward his height, and
the ſweating traveller begins to feel the
burden of his way. The ſcholar now
falls to conning of his leffon, and the
lawyer at the bar falls to pleading of his
cafe. The foldier now makes many a

70
A Bower of Delights.
weary ſtep in his march, and the
amorous courtier is almoft ready to go
out of his chamber. The market now
grows to be full of people, and the ſhop-
men now are in the heat of the market.
The falconers now find it too hot flying,
and the huntſmen begin to grow weary
of their ſport. The birders now take in
their nets and their rods, and the fiſher-
men fend their fiſh to the market. The
tavern and the alehoufe are almoft full
of gueſts, and Weſtminſter and Guild-
hall are not without a word or two on
both fides. The carriers now are load-
ing out of town, and not a letter but
must be paid for ere it paſs. The
cryer now tries the ſtrength of his throat,
and the bearward leads his bear home
after his challenge. The Players' bills.
are almoſt all fet up, and the clerk of
the market begins to fhow his office. In
fum, in this hour there is much to do as
well in the city as the country. And,
therefore, to be fhort, I will thus make
my conclufion : I hold it the toil of wit
and the trial of reafon. Farewell.
(Fantafticks.)
A Bower of Delights.
71
Ten of the Clock.
It is now the tenth hour, and now
preparation is to be made for dinner.
The trenchers muſt be fcraped and the
napkins folded, the falt covered and the
knives fcoured, and the cloth laid, the
ftools fet ready and all for the table.
There must be hafte in the kitchen for
the boiled and the roaft, and provifion
in the cellar for wine, ale, and beer.
The Pantler [= pantry_keeper] and the
Butler must be ready in their offices,
and the ufher of the Hall muft marſhal
the ferving-men. The hawk muſt be
fet on the perch and the dogs put into
the kennel, and the gueſts that come to
dinner muſt be invited againſt the hour.
The ſcholars now fall to conftrue and
parfe, and the lawyer makes his client
either a man or a moufe [= victim].
The chapmen now draw home to their
inns, and the shopmen fall to folding up
their wares. The ploughman now
begins to grow towards home, and the
dairymaid, after her work, falls to
cleanfing of her veffels. The cook is
cutting fops for broth, and the butler is
chopping of loaves for the table. The

72
A Bower of Delights.
!
Z
minstrels begin to go towards the taverns,
and the curfed crew vifit the vile places.
In fum, I thus conclude of it: I hold it
the meſſenger of the ftomach and the
ſpirit's recreation. Farewell.
(Fantasticks.)
$5
Eleven of the Clock.
It is now the eleventh hour; chil-
dren muſt break up ſchool, lawyers
muft home to their houſes, merchants to
the Exchange, and gallants to the
Ordinary. The diſhes fet ready for the
meat, and the glaffes half full of fair
water. Now the market people make
towards their homes, and the beggars
begin to draw near the towns. The
porridge put off the fire is fet a-cooling
for the plough folk, and the great loaf
and the cheeſe are fet ready for the
table. Colleges and halls ring to dinner,
and a ſcholar's commons is foon digeſted.
The rich man's guefts are at courteſy,
and 'I thank you'; and the poor man's
feaft is welcome, and 'God be with
you.' The Page is ready with his knife
and his trencher, and the meat will be

A Bower of Delights.
73
half cold ere the gueſts can agree on
their places.
The cook wards the
kitchen and the butler the buttery, and
the ferving-men ftand all ready at the
dreffer [= drawered table]. The child-
ren are called to ſay grace before dinner,
and the nice people rather look than eat.
The gates be locked for fear of the
beggars, and the minstrels called in to
be ready with their mufic. The pleaſant
wit is now breaking a jeft, and the
hungry man puts his jaws to their proof.
In fum, to conclude my opinion of it,
I hold it the Epicure's joy and the
Labourer's eaſe. Farewell.
(Fantasticks.)
46
Twelve of the Clock.
It is now the twelfth hour: the fun
is at his height, and the middle of the
day, the firſt courſe is ſerved in, and the
fecond ready to follow. The diſhes
have been read over and the reverfion
fet by. The wine begins to be called
for, and who waits not is chidden. Talk
paffeth away time, and when ſtomachs
are full diſcourſes grow dull and heavy.
H
IC

74
A Bower of Delights.
But after fruit and cheefe, fay grace and
take away.
Now the markets are done,
the Exchange broke up, and the lawyers.
at dinner, and Duke Humphrey's fer-
vants make their walks in Paul's.* The
fhopmen keep their fhops and their fer-
vants go to dinner. The traveller begins
to call for a reckoning, and goes into
the ftable to fee his horfe eat his
provender. The ploughman now is in
the bottom of his diſh, and the labourer
draws out his dinner out of his bag.
The beafts of the field take reft after their
feed, and the birds of the air are at juke
[= Sport] in the bushes. The lamb lies
fucking while the ewe chews the cud,
and the rabbit will fcarce peep out of
her burrow. The hare fits cloſe aſleep
in her mufe [hole in a hedge], while
dogs fit waiting for a bone from the
trencher. In brief, for all I find of it,
I thus conclude in it: I hold it the
ftomach's pleaſure and the fpirit's
weariness. Farewell.
(Fantasticks.)
* So Hutton, in' Satyres and Epigrams'
(1619), dine with Duke Humfrey in decayed
Paule's 'see also Donne = go without dinner
by walking up and down St. Paul's, and deftly
using toothpicks as if they had just dined.

A Bower of Delights.
75
QUEEN ELIZABETH LIVING—
1603.
A Queen . . . I ſay not only with
Antonio, God preſerve her,' by know-
ing fuch a queen in a little, but I may
ſay, a great bleffed Iſland, whom accord-
ing to the excellency of her nature the
heavens have worthily named Bazile-
thea: I fay fuch a queen as not the
greateſt monarchy in the world hath the
like, to love and honour.
Let me fay thus much in her due,
that what dignity foever may be juſtly
given unto man above all other creatures,
that and much more may be given unto
her Majefty above all others; who in
all the judgments of the worthieſt wits
on Earth, is worthily held not only the
Grace of all her Court, but under
heaven the very glory of her kingdom;
whoſe patience in all trouble, whoſe
temper in all paffion, whoſe bounty to
the well-deferving and juftice over the
obftinate; whofe mercy to the offendant
and love to the virtuous; whoſe beauty
in nature, whoſe wiſdom in judgment,
whofe magnanimity in dangers and
conftancy in religion; whoſe providence
H 2
76
A Bower of Delights.
in care, and refolution in performance;
makes her the true figure of the Phoenix
and the worthy honoured wonder of the
world; whofe praiſes ſo far paſs the
reach of human reafon to fet down, that
Admiration may rather contemplate than
Conceit expreſs them. For while the
wiſe ſerve, the virtuous love, the valiant
fear and the mighty admire, what can
be faid? but that fince in the dignity of
human nature ſhe is the worthy wonder
of her days, let her fubjects ever pray,
that in the ever wonder of the world,
ſhe may live the bleffed Majeſty of her
kingdom, and be perfuaded that where
the virtue of beauty and beauty of virtue,
the mercy of Juftice and care of Judg-
ment, in the eye of Grace, the heart of
Truth, and the hand of Bounty, makes
that angel of a woman, which proves
the glory of a creature.
Let the Phoenix
be drawn from her ſpirit, and the dignity
of man in this world under heaven from
her Majeſty whom the Chronicles of
never-ending ages may eternize for the
gracious queen of the world. Of which
truth, while Envy is eating of her
fnaky hairs with anger to hear of, Fame
joyfully foundeth her name in eternal
:
1.
A Bower of Delights.
77
triumph. But left I blot my paper in
feeking to fhow a fair hand and abridge
much of her worth in fo little touching
the wonder of her worthiness, I will only
leave princes to admire her, the virtuous
to love her, the honourable to attend
her, the learned to commend her, the
devout to pray for her, that God, who
by His Almighty power for the good of
her kingdom, did in her feat of Majeſty
place her, will fo in His glorious mercy
in the fame ever preſerve her, that while
the whole world is full of her worthy
fame, her ſubjects may joy to behold the
Majefty of her perfon, and while the
greateſt part of the world doth admire
her, the heart of England may ever joy
to enjoy her to which prayer I hope
he lives not fo unworthily born that will
not joyfully say Amen.
(A Dialogue of Pith and Pleaſure.)
406
FAITH.
Faith is the hand of the foul, which
layeth hold of the promiſes of Chriſt in
the mercy of the Almighty. She hath
#7%
45


78
A Bower of Delights.
a bright eye and a holy ear, a clear
heart and fure foot. She is the ftrength
of Hope, the truft of Truth, the honour
of Amity and the joy of Love. She is
rare among the fons of men and hardly
found among the daughters of women;
but among the fons of God fhe is a con-
veyance of their inheritance, and among
the daughters of Grace, fhe is the
affurance of their portions. Her dwell-
ing is in the Church of God, her con-
verfation with the faints of God, her
delight with the beloved of God, and
her life is in the love of God. She
knows no falfehood, diftrufts no truth,
breaks no promife, and coins no excuſe;
but as bright as the fun, as ſwift as the
wind, as fure as the rock, and as pure as
gold, fhe looks toward heaven but lives
in the world, in the fouls of the Elect,
to the glory of Election. She was
wounded in Paradife by a dart of the
Devil and healed of her hurt by the
death of Chrift Jefus. She is the poor
man's credit and the rich man's praiſe;
the wife man's care and the good man's
cognizance. In fum, finding her worth
in words hardly to be expreſſed, I will
in theſe few words only deliver my
A Bower of Delights.
79
opinion of her fhe is God's bleffing and
man's blifs, Reaſon's comfort and Virtue's
glory.
(Characters upon Eſſays.)
A PRETTY FANCY.
Who takes a friend, and truſts her not;
Who hopes of good, and hath it not;
Who hath an item, and keeps it not;
Who keeps a joy, and loves it not;
The first wants wit, the fecond will;
Careleſs the third, the fourth doth ill.
(Arbor of Amorous Devices.)
So
FOLLIES.
Oh, 'tis a word to hear a gander keak=
quack
And all the geeſe to give a hiſs to
hear;
To hear an owl to teach a parrot ſpeak,
While cuckoo's notes makes better
mufic clear,
80
A Bower of Delights.
Where ne'er a better finging-bird is
near ;
Would it not grieve a good Mufi-
cian's ear,
To be enforc'd to ſtand attentive
hear?
To fee a wife man handled like a fool;
An afs exalted like a proper man;
To fee a puddle honour'd like a pool;
An old blind goofe fwim wagers with
a ſwan;
A filver cup diſgraced by a can;
Who would not grieve that fo
the world ſhould go?
But who can help it, if it will
be fo?
No, no, alas! it is in vain for me
To help the eyes that joy not in the
light;
He that is fworn that he will never fee,
Let him play buzzard with his blinded
fight;
He that is o'er-conceited of his
Art
Muft die of folly; there's no help
for it..

A Bower of Delights.
8 I
A curtal jade will fhew his hackney
tricks,
And fnarling curs will bite a man
behind;
The blackthorn ſhrub is beſt known by
his pricks ;
A kestrel cannot chooſe but fhow her
kind;
Wife men fometimes must wait till
fools have din'd
And yet theſe fools in common
Wits' conceit,
Are wife when Wiſdom on their
Wealth doth wait.
And yet the wealthy Fool is but a Fool;
The Knave with all his wealth is but
a Knave;
For trueft Wiſdom reads in Virtue's
School,
That there is no man happy till his
grave;
The hermit has more quiet in his
cave
Than many a king that long
ufurps a crown,
That in the end comes headlong
tumbling down.
(Pafquil's Paffion.)
82
A Bower of Delights.
FORKS (WITH KNIVES), AN IN-
NOVATION AND LUXURY.
For us in the country, when we have
waſhed our hands after no foul work,
nor handling any unwholefome thing,
we need no little forks to make hay
with our mouths, to throw our meat
into them.
(The Courtier and the Countryman.)
[Cf., King John,' i. 1, 190.]
C
WEARERS OF THE FOOL'S CAP.
If thou chance to meet an idle mate,
Whoſe tongue goes all too glib upon
= trigger
And chief delight is fo much in his
the feare
prate,
As when he comes, will be chief
prater there :
In friendly kindneſs tell him in his
ear,
That in the rules of Wit and
Reafon's School,
He will be counted but a prating
FOOL.

A Bower of Delights.
83
And if you hap to light upon a Gull,
That is conceited of his mother-wit,
And doth apply his beetle-headed fcull
But to an humour of an idle fit;
In honeft kindneſs let him hear of it,
That in the rolls of Wiſdom's
rules you read,
Lefs hope of him than of a FOOL
indeed.
And if you chance to fee the Son of
Pride
Look fifteen thousand mile above the
moon;
And lie abed until his idle hide
Muſt make a morning of an afternoon,
For fear his Worſhip ſhould be up too
foon ;
Left that the air fhould hap to
do him harm,
Send him the Fool's Cap for to
keep him warm.
And if you chance to ſpy a fubtle flave
That hath a world of fimple wits
beguil❜d,
And, like a cunning, cogging, cozening
knave,
On other harms, his helps doth only
build;

84
A Bower of Delights.
Tell him that Satan is a fubtle child ;
That while the wicked gold for
drofs do fell,
Makes fools feem wife until they
come to hell.
(Pafquil's Foole's Gap.)
HEAVEN v. EARTH.
The Earth, alas! from whence your
loves receive
Their flowers and ſweets, their pearls
and precious ftones,
To deck themſelves; with which they
fo deceive
The blinded ſpirits of the fimple ones;
This Earth, from whence their
outward graces fpring,
Is but the footstool of my
heavenly King.
And if He fo hath deck'd the Earth
below;
Imagine, then, the glory of His feat ;*
* Cf. Giles Fletcher:
'If such a house God to another gave,
How shine those glittering courts He for
Himself will have' (our edition, p. 211,
st. 27).

A Bower of Delights.
85
Which may perfuade, where angels
tremble fo,
For human eyes the glory is too great;
For where the fun, the moon
and ſtars have light,
For Nature's eyes the beauty is
too bright.
(A Solemn Paffion.)
So
HONOUR.
Honour is a title or grace, given by
the ſpirit of Virtue to the feed of
valour, in the defence of Truth. It is
wronged in baſeneſs, and abuſed in un-
worthiness, and endangered in wan-
tonnefs, and loft in wickedness. It
nouriſheth art, and crowneth wit, giveth
learning, and glorifieth wiſdom. In the
Heraldry of Heaven it hath the richeſt
coat, being in nature allied unto all the
houfes of Grace, which in the heaven of
heavens attend the King of Kings. Her
eſcutcheon is a heart, in which, on the
ſhield of Faith, ſhe bears or[=golden] the
anchor of Hope and the helmet of Salva-
tion. She quarters with Wiſdom in the
L
I
86
A Bower of Delights.
refolution of Valour, and in the line of
Charity ſhe is the home of Juftice. Her
ſupporters are Time and Patience, her
mantle Truth, and her creſt Chriſt
treading upon the globe of the world.
Her impreſs is Corona mea Chriftus. In
brief, finding her ftate fo high that I
am not able to climb unto the frame of
her perfection, I will leave her royalty
to the regiſter of moft princely ſpirits,
and in my humble hand thus only de-
liver my opinion of her: She is Virtue's
due and Grace's gift, Valour's wealth
and Reaſon's joy.
(Characters upon Effays.)
[Cf. Milton's Hymn upon the Cir-
cumcifion':
'He, who with all Heav'n's heraldry
whilere,
Enter'd the world, now bleeds to
give us eaſe.'
So,
converſely, Phineas Fletcher's
Locufts (our edition, Works, ii., 73, ft.
18), 'Hell's Heraldry.']
Jo
A Bower of Delights.
87
AN ODD HUMOUR.
Purely fair and fairly wife ;
Bleffed wit and bleffed eyes;
Bleffed wife and bleffed fair;
Never may thy blifs impair.
Kindly true and truly kind;
Bleffed heart and bleffed mind;
Bleffed kind and bleffed true
Ever may thy blifs renew.
Sweetly dear and dearly fweet;
Bleffed where theſe bleffings meet;
Bleffed meetings never ceaſe
Ever may thy blifs increaſe,
;
Bleffed Beauty, Wit and Senſe;
Bleft in Nature's excellence;
Where all bleffings perifh never,
Bleſſed may'st thou live for ever.
(Melancholic Humours.)
Spe
INHOSPITALITY.
When I had been a little on fhore,
had weathered myſelf, dried my clothes,
filled my belly, and emptied my purſe,
I now began to think how my wits
ſhould work for my welfare. And firſt
I 2
88
A Bower of Delights.
intending to ſeek entertainment of ſome
noble perfon, that would honourably
look into the virtues, valour, and good
qualities of a good mind, I began to put
on a reſolution to adventure my fortune
and endure any diſcomfort that might
be a hindrance to my happineſ And
with this refolution, travelling till i was
weary, almoſt penniless, and exceedingly
hungry, I came to the view of a goodly,
fair, and gorgeouſly built houfe, which
ſtood, as it were, a mile from a city near
adjoining. Now in hope there to find
ſome ſuch perſon as I before ſpake of,
I began to rouſe up myſelf, as one that
had an affured hope at leaſt of ſome good
victual-I mean of a good dinner fcot-
free-however otherwife Fortune would
be my friend. When, ere I would ap-
proach too near the houſe, left I ſhould
be ſeen in any unfit manner, I combed
my beard, gartered up my ſtockings,
truffed every point, buttoned every
button, and made myſelf ready in the
beſt manner I could, to appear before
the preſence of ſuch as I fhould meet
withal in this gallant manfion. But
when I came near unto the houſe, and
finding the door fhut, I did imagine
*
A Bower of Delights.
89
!
(being about the mid-time of the day)
that the fervants were all at dinner, and
the lord of the houfe either laid down
to ſleep or gone into the cloſet to talk
upon fome accounts with his lady. But
hearing no found of any noiſe nor voice
within of either man or dog, I feared
fome ill-fortune, that there was fome
great fickneſs or danger of death that
might damp the ſpirits and fo cauſe the
forrow of the whole houſe. But ſtaying
awhile, and neither hearing anyone
within nor any poor creature without
at the gate, that might hope of alms
from the Hall, I feared the charity
within was fo little that my comfort
without would be according. But after
that I had ftood awhile, loth to lofe
time, I knocked at the door; where I
knocked long before I had any anſwer,
and in the end was faluted at a window
far within by an old fellow, who it
ſhould ſeem to fave a groat, had ſlept
out his dinner; whofe fpeech (with a
wide mouth gaped out) was this:
What lack you ? My friend,' quoth
I, 'I pray you let me ſpeak with you.'
'No,' quoth he, 'I cannot come down;
I am bufy; my maſter is not at home,
90
A Bower of Delights.
and there is nobody in the houſe but I
and my wife, and fhe is not well; but
fay your errand, and I will hear you.'
My errand, thought I. Was there ever
6
fuch a kennel for ſuch a cur? Doth he
take me for ſome forry fellow, or hath
he no better kind of greeting for
ftrangers ? And thus while I ftand
mufing and fretting at my future and
this bad fellow, he fhut the window,
and I with a figh to fee how I was mif-
taken in this fair houſe, turning me
from it, I met with a fool in a pied
coat, who, looking upon me after he
had out-laughed himſelf, told me: Sir,
you are miſtaken. This is a Banqueting
Houfe, where the gazers are only fed
with conceits; for there is not a
chimney that ſmokes nor a door open.
It is called Mockbeggar. Ha! ha! ha!'
Now when the fool went thus laughing
away, and left me, more fool, to tarry
there, before I ftirred my foot, out of
my pocket I took my table book, in
which I writ down this.
(A Mad World, my Maſters.)
[Parker, in his 'Curtain Drawer'
(1612) has many fimilar hits on contem-
W
A Bower of Delights.
91
porary inhofpitality; e.g., 'Then [in the
good old times] noblemen's chimneys.
uſed to ſmoke, and not their nofes' (our
edition). On table-book,' cf. Hamlet,'
ii. 2, and 'Winter's Tale,' iv. 3.]
<
6
A PATHETIC LETTER BY
BRETON.
To my dearest beloved friend on Earth,
H. W.
HONEST HARRY,—Out of a troubled
ſpirit of a tormented heart, I write to
thee, and therefore bear with my ſkill
if it be not in the pleafing nature of fo
good an humour as I could wiſh and
thou art worthy of. But as I know
thee able to judge of colours better
than the blind eyes and beetle-heads
[=ftupid clowns] and of that true kind-
neſs that can and doth rather comfort
the afflicted than increaſe the forrows
of the diftreffed; let me unfold to thee
fome part of my paffion, that patience
in thy pity may better play her part in
my ſpirit. What ſhall I ſay? I live
without life, pleaſured in nothing, croffed

92
A Bower of Delights.
in all hopes, put in many fears, languiſh-
ing in many forrows, and troubled with
the griefs of a wounded conſcience: not
with the horrors of murder, the fear of
treaſon, nor delight in fin, but with the
cruelty of Fortune, the unkindneſs of
friends and the breach of credit, and
moft of all with them whom I moft love.
Oh God, my heart acheth, and blame it
not: and my ſpirit mourneth, and re-
prove it not; for though patience be a
virtue that maketh men divine, yet there
is but one Chriſt, and men are no angels.
And let me tell the truth, the mifery of
my life is intolerable in the fenſe of
Nature; for compare the afflictions of
the moſt patient, with the cauſes of my
paffions, and provide a world of pity to
behold the map of my miferies. Hath
any man been wealthy and become
poor ?fo am I. Hath another ſuffered
wrong? fo do I. Another buried his
parents, children and dear friends? fo
have I. Another travelled far in hope
of gain and returned with lofs? fo have
I. Another been wounded in the Wars,
fared bad, lain in a cold bed many a
bitter ftorm, and been at many a hard
banquet? all theſe have I. Another
A Bower of Delights.
93
impriſoned fo have I. Another long
been fick ? fo have I. Another plagued
with an unquiet wife? fo am I. Another
indebted to his heart's grief and fain
would pay and cannot? fo am I. In
fum, any of thefe croffes are able to
kill the heart of a kind ſpirit, and all
theſe lie at once fo heavy upon my heart
as nothing but the hand of God can
remove befides, my continual toil for
the reward of unquietnefs, while that
which fhould be my comfort is my
forrow. Imagine how with all this I
can live, and think what a death it is
thus to live! Oh for the ſcorn of the
proud, the abufe of the ungracious, the
fcoff of the fooliſh, and the ſcanning
of the unkind; the company of the
diſcontentive, and the want of the moſt
affected [beloved]; the difgrace of
learning, the lofs of time, and the mifery
of want. If there be a hell on earth, it
cannot be far from this cauſe of my
difcomfort; where I am fure the devil,
ſeeing my defire to ferve God, layeth all
his bars he can in the way for my
difcomfort. But I defy him, and hope
in Chriſt that my living and loving God,
who hath tried my foul in adverfities,
94
A Bower of Delights.
will one day in His mercy fo look upon
me that the devil fhall be driven back
from his purpoſe; and the tears of my
body wiped away, I ſhall rejoice in ſuch
a joy as all my griefs clean forgotten,
my heart and foul fhall-in the joy of
my ſenſe, in the heavenly harmony of a
holy hymn-fing a new fong of praiſe
to the glory of my Saviour: for the
haftening whereof in my deliverance
from my torments and comforts in His
mercies, I will frame my daily prayers,
and be affured of thy amen. But I fear
I am too tedious, and therefore will thus
end: God continue my patience, but
not my forrows; give me deliverance
from my miferies, and make me thankful
for His bleffings, and bleſs thee with as
much happineſs as thou knoweſt I want.
So, leaving my hopes to His mercy and
us both to His tuition, I reft with as
little reft as I think any man can reft,
Thine or not mine own, N. B.
(A Pofte.)
Do

A Bower of Delights.
95
LOVE LETTERS.
To my Sweet Love, Miftrefs E. S.
SWEET LOVE,-If abfence could breed
forgetfulneſs, then Fortune fhould do
much harm to Affection; but when the
eye of the mind looketh into the joy of
the heart, the fentence may well be
ſpoken. As in filence you may hear
me, ſo in abſence you may fee me; for
love is not an hour's humour nor a
fhadow of light, but it is a light of the
ſpirit and a continuing paffion. Think
not, therefore, I do or can forget thee,
or love myſelf but for thee. Shortly I
hope to ſee thee, and in the meantime,
though not with thee, yet not from
thee; nor will be at reft with myſelf
till I may reft only with thee, I reft
always to reft thine only and all.
(F. W.)
Jo
Her Anſwer.
MY DEAR, --If delays were not a
death to Love, excufe were current in
the conftruction of kindneſs ; but
96
A Bower of Delights.
ſentences are better ſpoken than under-
ftood [when written], and a pleafing
prefence is better than an excufed
abfence. Remembrance is good, but
poffeffion better, and Love holdeth
memory but a kind of melancholy. Let
your ſelf, therefore, be the meffenger
rather of your love than your letters, leſt
Fortune in a mad fit croſs to your beſt
comfort, not in refpect of my conftancy,
but my parents' unkindneſs. This is all
I will write at this time, but wifhing a
happy time to the beginning of a never
ending, I reft till that time and at all
times, one and the fame,
Yours, as you know, E. P.
(A Pofte.)
WHAT IS LOVE?
Men talk of Love that know not what
it is ;
For could we know what Love may be
indeed
We would not have our minds fo led
amifs
A Bower of Delights.
97
With idle toys, that wanton humours
feed;
But in the rules of higher reaſon read
What love may be, fo from the
world conceal'd
Yet all too plainly to the world
reveal'd.
Some one doth fain Love is a blinded
god;
His blindneſs him more half a devil
fhews;
For Love with blindneſs never made
abode ;
Which all the power of Wit and Reaſon
knows :
And from whofe grace the ground of
knowledge grows.
But fuch blind eyes that can no
better fee
Shall never live to come where
Love may be.
Some only think it only is a thought
Bred in the eye and buzzeth in the
brain;
And breaks the heart until the mind be
brought
To feed the fenfes with a forry vein ;
K
98
A Bower of Delights.
Till wits once gone, come never home
again :
And then too late in mad conceit
do prove
Fantaſtic wits are ever void of love.
Some think it is a babe of Beauty's
getting,
Nurft up by Nature and Time's only
breeding;
A pretty work to fet the wits a-whetting
Upon a fancy of an Humour's feeding;
Where Reafon finds but little fenfe in
reading:
No, no, I fee children must go to
ſchool;
Philoſophy is not for every fool.
And ſome again think there is no ſuch
thing
But in conceit, a kind of coinèd jeſt ;
Which only doth of idle humours ſpring
Like to a bird within a Phoenix neft,
Where never yet did any young one reft:
But let fuch fools take heed of
blafphemy,
For Love is high in his divinity.
But to be ſhort, to learn to find him out,
'Tis not in Beauty's eye nor babies'
hearts;
A Bower of Delights.
99
}
He must go beat another world about,
And feek for Love but in thofe living parts
Of Reafon's light, that is the life of arts;
That will perceive though he can
never fee
The perfect effence whereof Love
may be.
It is too clear a brightneſs for man's eye;
Too high a wiſdom for his wits to find;
Too deep a fecret for his ſenſe to try ;
And all too heavenly for his earthly mind;
It is a grace of fuch a glorious kind
As gives the foul a fecret power to
know it;
But gives no heart nor ſpirit power
to ſhow it.
It is of heaven and earth the higheſt
beauty;
The powerful hand of heaven's and
earth's creation;
The due commander of all ſpirits' duty;
The deity of angels' adoration ;
The glorious fubftance of the foul's
falvation :
The light of Truth that all per-
fection trieth,
And life that gives the life that
never dieth.
K 2

100
A Bower of Delights.
It is the height of God and hate of ill,
Triumph of Truth and Falſehood's over-
throw;
The only worker of the Higheſt Will,
And only knowledge that doth know-
ledge know,
And only ground where it doth only
grow:
It is in fum the ſubſtance of all bliſs,
Without whoſe bleffing all things
nothing is.
mb
But in itſelf itſelf it all containeth,
And from itfelf but of itſelf it giveth;
It nothing loſeth and it nothing gaineth,
But in the glory of itſelf it liveth;
A joy which foon away all forrow driveth:
The proved truth of all perfection's
ftory,
Our God incomprehenfible in glory.
Thus is it not a riddle to be read,
And yet a ſecret to be found in reading;
But when the heart joins iffue with the
head,
In fettled faith to feek the fpirit's feeding;
While in the wounds that ever freſh and
bleeding,
}
។

A Bower of Delights.
In Chrift His fide, the faithful foul
may fee
In perfect life what perfect love
may be.
(Longing of a Bleſſed Heart, 1601.)
$P
LOVE.
Fooliſh love is only folly;
Wanton love is too unholy;
Greedy love is covetous;
Idle love is frivolous ;
But the gracious love is it
That doth prove the work of wit.
Beauty but deceives the eye;
Flattery leads the ear awry;
Wealth doth but enchant the wit;
Want, the overthrow of it;
While in Wiſdom's worthy grace,
Virtue fees the ſweeteſt face.
There hath Love found out his life,
Peace without all thought of ftrife ;
Kindneſs in Difcretion's care;
Truth, that clearly doth declare
Faith doth in true fancy prove,
Luft the excrements of Love.
IOI
102
A Bower of Delights.
;
Then in faith may fancy fee
How my love may conſtruèd be
How it grows and what it ſeeks ;
How it lives and what it likes
So in higheſt grace regard it,
Or in loweſt ſcorn diſcard it.
(Paffionate Shepheard.)
Jo
MY LADY-LOVE.
Love, oh life of more tormenting
Than the world hath inventing;
Never feized upon a creature
In a truer killing nature :
Not with Venus' idle itching,
Nor with vain affects' bewitching;
But with Wit and Reaſon's feeing,
Nature's beauties ſweeteſt being :
Time and Truth on Earth declaring
Excellence hath no comparing:
Not a hair but hath in holding
Honour's heart, in Love's beholding;
Not an eye, but in her glances
Graceth reafon in Love's trances;
Not a look but hath in loving
Faith too faſt for ever moving;
A Bower of Delights.
103
Not a word but in commanding
Daunteth Folly from demanding;
Not a lip but makes the cherry
Only held a pretty berry;
Not a breath that foftly blows
But perfumeth where it goes;
Not a truth but doth diſplay
All the Chefs in battle 'ray;
Where the princely eye may fee
How they all in order be:
King and Queen, Knight, Biſhop, Rook,
And the Pawn his place hath took :
Bleffèd cheek, the ſweeteſt chain
Of Affection's fweeteft vein :
What can ſweeteft judgments fay
But thou carrieft ſweet away?
Pretty cheek, in whofe fweet pit
Love would live and die to fit
Let me think no more on thee,
Thou haft too much wounded me.
(Paffionate Shepheard.)
406
LOVE'S YES AND NO.
Doth Love live in Beauty's eyes?
Why then are they fo unloving?
Patience in her paffion proving,
There her forrow chiefly lies.

I04
A Bower of Delights.
Lives Belief in lovers' hearts?
Why then are hey unbelieving?
Hourly fo the ſpirit grieving
With a thouſand jealous fmarts.
Is there pleaſure in Love's paffion?
Why then is it ſo unpleafing?
Heart and ſpirit both diſeaſing,
Where the wits are out of faſhion.
No; Love fees in Beauty's eyes;
He hath only loft his feeing;
Where in Sorrow's only being
All his comfort wholly dies.
Faith, within the heart of Love,
Fearful of the thing it hath ;
Treading of a trembling path,
Doth but jealouſy approve.
In Love's paffion then what pleaſure,
Which is but a lunacy?
Where grief, fear, and jealoufy,
Plague the ſenſes out of meaſure.
Farewell then unkindly Fancy,
In thy courfes all too cruel;
Woe the price of fuch a jewel,
As turns Reaſon to a frenzy.
406
1
3
=franfy

A Bower of Delights.
105
FAREWELL TO LOVE.
Farewell Love and loving folly,
All thy thoughts are too unholy;
Beauty ftrikes thee full of blindneſs,
And then kills thee with unkindneſs.
Farewell wit and witty reaſon,
All betray'd by Fancy's treafon;
Love hath of all joy bereft thee,
And to forrow only left thee.
Farewell will and wilful fancy,
All in danger of a frenzy ;
Love to Beauty's bow hath won thee,
And together all undone thee.
Farewell Beauty, Sorrow's agent ;
Farewell Sorrow, Patience' pagent;=
pageant
Farewell Patience, Paffion's flayer,
Farewell Paffion, Love's betrayer.
Sorrow's agent, Patience' pagent;
Paffion's flayer, Love's betrayer;
Beauty, Sorrow, Patience, Paffion
Farewell life, of ſuch a faſhion.
Faſhion fo good faſhion' fpilling;
Paffion, fo with paffions killing;
;
106
A Bower of Delights.
Patience, ſo with forrow wounding;
Farewell Beauty, Love's confounding.
(Melancholic Humours.)
LOVE-LILT.
Say that I ſhould ſay I love you,
Would you fay 'tis but a ſaying?
But if love in prayers move you,
Will you not be mov'd with praying?
Think I think that Love ſhould know
you,
Will you think 'tis but a thinking?
But if Love the thought do fhow you,
Will you loſe your eyes with winking?
Write that I do write you bleffèd,
Will you write 'tis but a writing ?
But if truth and love confeſs it,
Will you doubt the true inditing?
No, I fay, and think, and write it;
Write, and think, and ſay your
pleaſure ;
Love, and truth, and I indite it,
You are bleffèd out of meaſure.
(Daffodils and Primroſes.)

A Bower of Delights.
107
LOVE-A JEST.
If that Love had been a King,
He would have commanded Beauty ;
But he is a filly thing,
That hath fworn to do her duty.
If that Love had been a god,
He had then been full of grace ;
But her grace and love are odd,
"Tis too plain a piteous caſe.
No; Love is an idle jeſt,
That hath only made a word;
Like unto a cuckoo's neft,
That hath never hatch'd a bird.
Then from nothing to conceive,
That may any ſubſtance be ;
Yet fo many doth deceive—
Lord of heaven, deliver me!
(Melancholic Humours.)
LOVE ACCURSED.
Love is witty, but not wife,
When he ſtares on Beauty's eyes ;
Finding wonders in conceit,
That do fall out but deceit.
1

108
A Bower of Delights.
Wit is ſtable but not ſtay'd,
When his fenfes are betray'd;
Where too late forrows deeply prove,
Beauty makes a fool of Love.
Youth is forward but too fond,
When he falls in Cupid's bond;
Where Repentance lets him fee,
Fancy faft is never free.
Age is cunning, but unkind,
When he once grows Cupid-blind;
For when Beauty is untoward,
Age can never be but froward.
So that I do find in brief,
In the grounds of Nature's grief,
Age and Youth, and Wit do prove,
Beauty makes a fool of Love.
(Melancholic Humours.)
A LULLABY.
Come, little babe, come, filly foul, =
innocent
Thy father's fhame, thy mother's grief;
Born as I doubt to all our dole,
And to thyself unhappy chief;
Sing lullaby, and lap it warm;
Poor foul that thinks no creature harm.

A Bower of Delights.
109
Thou little think'ft, and leſs doſt know,
The cauſe of this thy mother's moan;
Thou want'ft the wit to wail her woe,
And I myſelf am all alone e;
Why dost thou weep? why doft thou
wail?
And knoweft not yet what thou doft
ail.
Come, little wretch, ah, filly heart,
Mine only joy, what can I more ?
If there be any wrong thy ſmart,
That may the deſtinies implore :
'Twas I, I fay, againſt my will;
I wail the time, but be thou ftill.
And doft thou fmile? oh, thy ſweet
face,
Would God himſelf He might thee fee!
No doubt thou wouldst foon purchaſe
grace,
I know right well for thee and me:
But come to mother, babe, and play,
For father falfe is fled away.
Sweet boy, if it by future chance
Thy father home again to fend ;
If death do ftrike me with his lance,
Yet mayeft thou me to him commend:
If any aſk thy mother's name,
Tell how by love fhe purchaf'd blame.
L

IIO
A Bower of Delights.
Then will his gentle heart foon yield;
I know him of a noble mind-
Although a lion in the field,
A lamb in town thou fhalt him find:
Afk bleffing, babe, be not afraid;
His fugar'd words hath me betray'd.
Then mayeſt thou joy and be right glad,
Although in woe I ſeem to moan;
Thy father is no rafcal, lad;
A noble youth of blood and bone;
His glancing looks if he once ſmile,
Right honeft women may beguile.
Come, little boy, and rock aſleep;
Sing lullaby, and be thou ſtill;
I that can do nought elfe but weep,
Will fit by thee and wail my fill
God bless my babe and lullaby,
From this thy father's quality.
(Arbor of Amorous Devices.)
;
Ic
^
A Bower of Delights.
III
I
PASQUIL'S MESSAGE.*
Go, Mufe, abroad, and beat the world.
about;
Tell truth for fhame and hugger up no
ill;
Flatter no folly with too plain a flout,
Nor on a buzzard fet a falcon's bill 1;
Do no man wrong, give every man
his right;
For time will come that all will
come to light.
* With 'Go' for refrain, there follow in this
pointed satire mordant exposures of the sins
and sinners of the period. But Breton
was too sweet-blooded and Shakspere-like
'gentle' to be a mere satirist. He works in
graciously-touched delineations of the Court'
and 'King,' 'Lords and Ladies,' 'Courtiers,'
'Lawyers, 'Scholars,' 'Country Players,'
'Fiddlers,' 'Swaggerers,' 'Divine,'' Soldier,'
'Craftsman,' 'Fencer,' the 'wretch in world
that cannot thrive,' the 'Crow,' Æsop's Fire,'
Beggar,' 'Jailor,' 'Prisoner,' 'Piety," Authors
of High Tragedies,' 'Scrivener,' 'Jugglers,'
'Pander and Parasite,' 'Traitor,' 'Farmers,'
'Labourers.' All these are wisely counselled.
It is hard to hold one's hand with such literary
treasure-trove available. Our limits compel
selection of Country Players,' 'Poets and
Poor Writers,'' Authors of High Tragedies.'
These will be found under their headings.
.

L 2
II2
A Bower of Delights.
Do not perfuade a fool that he is wife,
Nor make a beggar think he is a king;
Say not a mole can ſee that hath no
eyes,
Nor ftark dead ſtocks have any power
to ſpring;
For while that logic would main-
tain a lie,
'Tis eafily found out in philofophy.
Tell idle eyes that know not how to
look,
That wanton thoughts will work them
nought but woes;
Tell addle wits that have the world
miſtook,
Unbridled wills are Reaſon's over-
throws ;
While only truth that walks by
Wiſdom's line,
Happieth the heart and makes the
foul divine.
(Pafquil's Madcappe.)
A Bower of Delights.
113
"

MURMURERS—ACCESSION OF
JAMES I. (1607).
It is written that a man fhould be as
a god unto man, but it may be written
that man is, or at leaſt many men are,
as devils unto men; where there are ſo
many murmurers that there can be few
lovers. The rich man murmurs at the
poor man that he ſhould dwell nigh
him; the uſurer murmurs at the broker
that he getteth anything by him; the
tradeſman murmurs at his neighbour
that he ſhould profper or thrive by him;
the lawyer murmurs at the term that
is fo fhort a harveſt for
for him
him; the
merchant murmurs at the winds that
his fhips come not home to him; the
foldier murmurs at his paymafter that
he keeps his money from him; the
courtier murmurs at his tailor that his
clothes are not fit for him; the minifter
[= curate] murmurs at the parfon
becauſe he hath the greateft profit from
him, and the parfon murmurs at the
pariſh that they come not to church to
pay their dues to him, and the pariſh
murmurs at the parfon that they pay
fo much for fo little pains from him;
1
114
A Bower of Delights.
the tenant murmurs at his landlord for
racking of his rent; the landlord
murmurs at his tenant to fee him thrive
by his huſbandry. In fum, there is
almoſt no profeffion or condition wherein
one doth not murmur at another; which
murmuring, while it continueth in the
hearts of people, it will fuffer love to
have no life among them. But were the
world purged of this malicious humour,
then would there be as great a heaven
as there is now a hell in the world;
where love fhould eſtabliſh ſuch a law
as fhould never be broken. Among
men, do not two eyes in one head, two
hands and two legs to one body, make
up man? and fhall not two lands make
one Kingdom? Nay, more; doth not
one eye the fame that the other, the
one hand the fame that the other? and
ſhall not one people ſo near another as
one member is to another, have one
will, one law, and one love with
another? It is ftrange it ſhould be ſo,
but I hope it will be otherwiſe. God
will have His will and our good King his
will. In this work of God's will every
good Chriftian and good fubject will
give his good will to God's and our
A Bower of Delights.
115
King's will; againft which, if any fhall
murmur, God will be diſpleaſed that
the King is not obeyed; the King will
be diſpleaſed that God is not obeyed;
the Council will be difpleafed that God
and the King are not obeyed; the
Court will be aggrieved to fee God,
the King and Council diſpleaſed; and
the commonwealth will have a common
woe when all theſe are diſpleaſed.
(A Murmurer.)
406
A SWEET PASTORAL.
Good Mufe, rock me aſleep
with ſome ſweet harmony;
This weary eye is not to keep
thy wary company.
Sweet Love, be gone awhile,
thou knoweft my heavineſs ;
Beauty is born but to beguile.
my heart of happineſs.
See how my little flock,
that lov'd to feed on high,
Do headlong tumble down the rock
and in the valley die.
116
A Bower of Delights.
The buſhes and the trees,
that were fo freſh and green;
Do all their dainty colours leefe, = loſe
and not a leaf is ſeen.
The Blackbird and the Thruſh,
that made the woods to ring;
With all the reft are now at huſh,
and not a note they fing.
Sweet Philomela, the bird
that hath the heavenly throat;
Doth now, alas, not me afford
recording of a note.
The flowers have had a froſt,
each herb hath loft her favour,
And Phillida the Fair hath loft
the comfort of her favour.
Now all theſe careful fights
fo kill me in conceit;
That how to hope upon delights
it is but mere deceit.
And, therefore, my fweet Muſe,
that knoweſt what help is beft;
Do now thy heavenly cunning uſe
to fet my heart at reft.
1
A Bower of Delights.
117
And in a dream bewray,
what Fate fhall be my friend;
Whether my life ſhall ſtill decay,
or when my forrow end.
(England's Helicon.)
Jo
PHILLIS AND CORIDON.
On a hill there grows a flower,
Fair befall the dainty ſweet;
By that flower there is a bower,
Where the heavenly Mufes meet.
In that bower there is a chair,
Fringed all about with gold;
Where doth fit the faireft fair,
That did ever eye behold.
It is Phillis fair and bright;
She that is the fhepherd's joy;
She that Venus did deſpite,
And did blind her little Boy.
This is fhe, the wife, the rich,
And the world defires to fee,
This ipfa qua, the which
There is none but only ſhe.
118
A Bower of Delights.
Who would not this face admire ?
Who would not this faint adore ?
Who would not this fight defire ?
Though he thought to fee no more.
Oh fair eyes, yet let me fee,
One good look, and I am gone ;
Look on me, for I am he,
Thy poor filly Coridon.
innocent
Thou that art the fhepherds' Queen,
Look upon thy filly fwain;
By thy comfort have been ſeen
Dead men brought to life again.
(Arbor of Amorous Devices.)
So
=
PHILLIDA AND CORIDON.
A Paftoral.
In the merry month of May,
In a morn by break of day,
Forth I walked by the wood fide
When as May was in his pride ;
There I ſpied all alone
Phillida and Coridon :
Much ado there was; God wot
He would love and fhe would not;
A Bower of Delights.
119
She faid, never man was true;
He ſaid, none was falſe to you ;
He ſaid, he had lov'd her long;
She ſaid, Love ſhould have no wrong.
Coridon would kifs her then ;
She faid, Maids muſt kiſs no men
Till they did for good and all :
Then ſhe made the Shepherd call
All the heavens to witneſs truth;
Never lov'd a truer youth.
Then with many a pretty oath,
Yea and nay, and faith and troth;
Such as filly fhepherds ufe = harmleſs
When they will not love abuſe
Love, which had been long deluded,
Was with kiffes fweet concluded;
And Phillida with garlands gay
Was made the Lady of the May.
(Daffodils and Primroſes.)
·
POETS AND POOR WRITERS.
Go tell the Poets that their fiddling
rhymes
Begin apace to grow out of request;
While wanton humours in their idle
times,
=
120
A Bower of Delights.
Can make of Love but as a laughing
jeft:
And tell poor Writers ftories are fo
ftale,
That penny ballads make a better
fale.
(Pafquil's Meſſage.)
Ic
PROVERBS AND WISE SAWS.
Fortune favours fools. Not fo, there
are fools enough, but there is no fortune.
Women are like waſps in their anger.
Not fo, for wafps leave their ſtings,
but women never leave their tongues
behind them.
Virgins are angel-like creatures. Not
fo, for then they would not be ſo proud
of their beauty.
Painted creatures are dead ſpeakers.
Not ſo, for then many women would
be filent.
Money is a continual traveller in the
world. Not fo, for with fome he is a
cloſe prifoner.
Every child knows his own father.
Not fo, but fo his mother tells him.
A Bower of Delights.
121
There is nothing ftolen without
hands. Yes, a good name with an ill
tongue.
Rich men are ftewards for the poor.
Not fo, when the poor man's pence fill
their purſes.
He that is wife in his own conceit
is a fool. Not fo, for he that is wife is
no fool.
A bagpipe makes more noife than
mufic. Not fo, for 'tis all mufic,
though not of the beſt.
There is no fire without ſmoke. Yes,
in a flint.
The Law is coftly. No, 'tis the lawyer.
Love is the peace of the Senſes. Not
where it is joined with jealouſy.
He is a fond (=foolish) fiſher that
angles for a frog. Not fo, for he may
be a bait for a better fiſh.
Not
Neat apparell graceth a man.
ſo, a neat man graceth his apparell.
Try, and then truft. Not fo, for he
that is kind to-day may be croſs to-
morrow.
There is none fo faithlefs as a heretic.
Yes, an hypocrite.
There is a time allowed for all things.
No, not to do evil.
M

I22
A Bower of Delights.
Poverty is the purgatory of reaſon.
Not fo; it is the trial of patience.
He is wife that is rich. Not fo; he
is rich who is wife.
Nothing fo neceffary for travellers as
languages. Yes, money.
Which is the best travel that ever
was? Towards heaven.
What is the beſt learning in the
world? Truth.
What is the greateſt wealth in the
world? Content.
What is the greateſt bleffing to
Nature Health.
What comforteth a lame man? That
he ſhall not be ſent of hafty errands.
What is the comfort of Age? That
he hath paffed the perils of his youth.
What is the best companion in the
world? A library, where a man talks
without offence.
What is a remedy for all diſeaſes?
Death.
What is a mifer's mufic? Chinking
of money.
What is the true fign of a fool? To
be ever laughing.
What is good for a bald head? A
periwig.
A Bower of Delights.
123
Who are as gray-headed as old men?
Young men when they powder their
hair.
(Croffing of Proverbs; Cross-anfwers
and Cross-humours.)
もの
​THE QUIET LIFE.
If Right were rack'd and over-run,
And Power take part with open
wrong;
If Force by fear do yield too ſoon ;
The lack is like to laft too long.
If God for goods fhall be unplac'd;
If Right for riches leaves his ſhape;
If World for wifdom be embrac'd:
The gueſs is great much hurt may hap.
Among good things I prove and find,
The QUIET LIFE doth moſt abound ;
And fure, to the contented mind,
There is no riches may be found.
Riches doth hate to be content;
Rude enemy to quiet eaſe ;
Power, for the moſt part, is impatient,
And feldom likes to live in peace.
M 2
124
A Bower of Delights.
I heard a Shepherd once compare:
That quiet nights he had more ſleep,
And had more merry days to ſpare.
Than he which own'd his flock of
ſheep.
I would not have it thought, hereby,
The dolphin ſwim I mean to teach ;
Ne yet to learn the falcon fly;
I rove not ſo far paſt my reach.
But as my part above the reſt,
43
Is well to wifh and good to will;
So till the breath doth fail my breaſt
I ſhall not ſtay to wish you ftill. = ceaſe
(Arbor of Amorous Devices.)
So
GIRD AT THE PURITANS.
For myſelf, I never loved to angle for
credit with a fhew of more fober
countenance than fimple meaning; for
' in truth, brother,' and 'verily, fifter,'
made the devil dance Trenchmore
where Hypocrify blew the bagpipe.
Yea, quoth the Scholar, how catch you
a trout but with a filken fly, and can
you better deceive a fool than with a
A Bower of Delights.
125
Oh no, laugh
taffaty (=Smooth) face?
upon every man at the firſt fight, make
a curtfey of the old faſhion, fay a long
grace without book, find fault with long
hair and great ruffs, and tell youth of
his folly, and all imperfections of the
fleſh fhall be excluded from the ſpirit.
(Trenchmour.)
QUIPS AND CRANKS.
There are four things greatly to be
taken heed of: a fly in the
in the throat, a dog at the
thief in the houſe.
eye, a bone
heel, and a
There are four grievous lacks to a
great many in the world: lack of health,
lack of wealth, lack of wit, and lack of
honeſty.
There are four ftrange men in the
world: they that make a god of their
gold, an angel of the devil, a paradife
of their pleaſure, and glory' of their pride.
There are four notes of an excellent
wit to learn that which is good, to
labour for that which is neceffary, to
foreſee a miſchief, and to forget that
which cannot be recovered.
126
A Bower of Delights.
There are four great trials of wit: to
chooſe a friend and keep him, to con-
ceal adverfity with patience, to be thrifty
without covetouſneſs, and to live out of
the fear of the law.
There be four great ciphers in the
world he that is lame among dancers,
dumb among
among lawyers, dull
lawyers, dull among
ſcholars, and rude among courtiers.
There are
four wicked kinds of
fcoffers they that ſcoff at the honeſt, at
the wife, at the learned, or at the
poor.
There are four knaves much dealt
withal in the world: the Knave of
Clubs [= drinkers], the Knave of Hearts
[ = lovers], the Knave of Spades
= labourers], and the Knave of Dia-
monds [ = rich].
There are four things foolishly proud:
a peacock that is proud of his tail, for
he muft moult it once every year; an
hart that is proud of his horns, for he
muft mew them once a year; a cuckoo
that is proud of her note, for fhe fings
but once a year; and an oak that is
proud of her leaf, for it falls once a
year. [Quaint old Dr. Wiſdome bids
the peacock remember that if it has a

A Bower of Delights.
127
gorgeous tail it may keep humble by
looking down at its black feet.]
Four notes of a divine nature to
regard him whom the world fcorneth,
to love him whom the world hateth, to
help him whom the world hurteth, and
to advance him whom the world over-
throweth.
Four needful eyes in a tavern: an
eye to the gueſt, an eye to the plate, an
eye to the ſcore, and an eye to the door.
Four things generally empty a head
without brains, a wit without judgment,
a heart without honefty, and a purſe
without money.
Four excellent medicines for many
diſeaſes: abſtinence, exerciſe, mirth,
and patience.
Four ſtrange ſports: to ſee a bear
hunt a wild duck, an ape kiſs an owl, a
gooſe bite a fox, and a ſquirrel hunt a
coney.
Four ſpeedy paffengers in the world :
a bird through the air, a fhip through
the ſea, a word from the mouth, and a
thought from the mind.
Four tellers of fair weather: when
the robin-red-breaft fings early, when
the bee works earneſtly, when the ſpider

128
A Bower of Delights.
keeps houſe, and the fwallow flies
merrily.
Four things good in Winter: good
fire, good company, good liquor, and
money to pay for't.
(The Figure of Foure.)
THE IGNOBLE RICH.
'Where graceless fons do in their glory fit.'
The wealthy RASCAL, be he ne'er fo
bafe,
Filthy, ill-favoured, ugly to behold,
Mole-eye, plaice-mouth, dog's-tooth
and camel's-face;
Blind, dumb and deaf; diſeasèd, rotten,
old;
Yet, if he have his coffers full of gold,
He ſhall have reverence, curtfey,
cap and knee;
And worship, like a man of high
degree.
He fhall have ballads written in his
praiſe ;
Books dedicated to his patronage;
Wits working for his pleaſure many
ways;
A Bower of Delights.
129
Pedigrees fought to mend his parentage,
And link'd, perhaps, in noble marriage;
He fhall have all that this vile
world can give him,
That into pride the devil's mouth
may drive him.
If he can ſpeak, his words are oracles;
If he can ſee, his eyes are ſpectacles ;
If he can hear, his ears are miracles;
If he can ſtand, his legs are pinnacles;
Thus in the rules of Reaſon's obſtacles:
If he be but a beaſt in ſhape and
nature,
Yet give him wealth, he is a goodly
creature.
But be a man of ne'er ſo good a mind;
As fine a ſhape as Nature can deviſe
Virtuous and gracious, comely, wife and
kind;
Valiant, well- given, full of good
qualities,
And almoſt free from Fancy's vanities;
Yet let him want this filthy worldly
drofs,
He ſhall be ſent but to the Beggar's
Crofs.
The fool will fcoff him and the knave
abuſe him,
And every raſcal in his kind difgrace him;

130
A Bower of Delights.
Acquaintance leave him and his friends.
refuſe him,
And every dog will from his door dif-
place him ;
Oh, this vile world will feek ſo to deface
him,
That until Death do come for to
relieve him,
He ſhall have nothing here but
that may grieve him.
If he have pence to purchaſe pretty
things,
She that doth love him will diffemble
love;
While the poor man his heart with
forrow wrings
To fee how want doth women's love
remove;
And make a jackdaw of a turtle dove.
If he be rich, worlds ferve him
for his pelf;
If he be poor, he may go ferve
himſelf.
If he be rich, although his noſe do
run,
His lips do flaver and his breath do
ftink,
He fhall have napkins fair and finely
fpun;
A Bower of Delights.
131
Pills for the rheum, and fuch perfumèd
drink
As were he blind, he ſhall not ſeem to
wink ;
Yea, let him cough, halk, ſpit .
If he be wealthy, nothing is amiſs.
But with his pence, if he have got him
power,
Then half a god, that is more half a
devil ;
Then Pride muft teach him how to look
as four
As beldam's milk that turnèd with her
fnevil;
=nofe-drops
While the poor man that little thinketh
evil,
Though nobly born, fhall fear the
beggar's frown,
And creep and crouch unto a filthy
clown.
Oh, he that wants this wicked canker'd
coin
May fret to death before he find relief;
But if he have the cunning to pur-
loin
And eaſe the beggar of his biting
grief,
Although (perhaps) he play the privy
thief,
132
A Bower of Delights.
It is no matter if the bags be full ;
Well fare the wit that makes the'
world a Gull.
(Pafquil's Madcappe.)
A REPORT SONG IN A DREAM
BETWEEN A SHEPHERD AND
HIS NYMPH.
Shall we go dance the hay? The hay?
Never pipe could ever play
better fhepherd's roundelay.
Shall we go fing the fong? The ſong?
Never Love did ever wrong:
fair maids hold hands all along.
Shall we go learn to woo?
Το 2000?
Never thought came ever to,
better deed could better do.
Shall we go learn to kifs? To kiſs?
Never heart could ever miſs
comfort, where true meaning is.
Thus at baſe they run. They run,
When the ſport was ſcarce begun :
but I wake, and all was done.
(Daffodils and Primroſes.)
A Bower of Delights.
133
RESPECT HUMBLE RUSTIC
FOLKS.
If you will needs be merry with your
wits,
Take heed of names and figuring of
natures;
And tell how near the gooſe the gander
fits;
Of Hal and Lil, and of fuch filly
creatures;
= innocent
Of Croydon sanguine* and of home-made
features;
But fcorn them not, for they are
honeſt people,
Although perhaps they never faw
Paul's ſteeple.
(No Whippinge.)
* Black-a-viced. Croydon was then noted
for its colliers. A play called 'Grim, the
Collier of Croydon,' has been (in part) ascribed
to no less than Shakespeare. See Simpson's
'School of Shakspeare,' vol. ii., 388, and
443, 870.
1
So
N

134
A Bower of Delights.
SATIRE TO BE SHUNNED.
If that a mind be full of mifery,
What villainy is it to vex it more ?
And if a wench do tread her ſhoe awry
What honeft heart would turn her
out of door?
Oh, if our faults were all upon the
ſcore;
debts
What man fo holy but would be
afhamed
To hear himſelf upon the ſchedule
named?
=
Let us then leave our biting kind of
verſes;
They are too bitter for a gentler taſte.
Sharp-pointed ſpeech fo near the ſpirit
pierces,
As grows to rankle ere the poiſon
waſte.
But let all be forgotten that is paſt;
And let us all agree in one in this,
Let God alone to mend what is
amifs.
But if we needs will try our wits to
write,
And ftrive to mount our Mufes to the
height;

A Bower of Delights.
135
Oh, let us labour for that heavenly light
That may direct us in our paffage
ſtraight:
Where humble wits may holy will
await :
And there to find that work to
write and read,
That may be worth the looking
on indeed.
To ſhow the life of unity in love,
Where never difcord doth the mufic
mar;
But, in the bleffing of the foul's behove
To ſee the light of that far-fhining ſtar,
Which shows the day that never night
can ſcar ;
But in the brightneſs of eternal
glory,
How love and life do make a bleffed
ftory.
If we be touch'd with forrow of our fins,
Expreſs our paffions as the Pfalmiſts
did;
And ſhow how mercy, hope's relief
begins,
Where greatest harms are in repent-
ance hid :
N 2
136
A Bower of Delights.
Where Grace in Mercy doth deſpair
forbid :
And fing of Him and of His glory
fuch,
Who hateth fin yet will forgive fo
much.
And let our hymns be angel harmony
Where Hallelujah makes the heavens
to ring;
And make a concert of fuch company,
As make the Choir but to their Holy
King:
This, then, I ſay, would be a bleſſed
thing:
When all the world might joy to
hear and fee,
How Poets in fuch Poetry agree
•
Let us all Poets then agree together
Torun from Helland feigned Helicon;
And look at Heaven, and humbly hie
us thither
Where graces fhall be let in, every
;
one,
To fing a part in Glory's unifon;
And there to fettle all our foul's
defire,
To hear the mufic of their heavenly
(No Whippinge.)
quire.
A Bower of Delights.
137
FINAL APPEAL TO DONNE,
HALL, MARSTON, AND ALL.
Oh, Poets, turn the humour of your
brains
Unto fome heavenly Mufe, or medi-
tation;
And let your ſpirits there employ your
pains,
Where never weary needs no recrea-
tion;
While God doth blefs each gracious.
cogitation;
For proud companions are always
odious,
But humble Mufes' mufic is melo-
dious
•
No, no; let Fancy wean herſelf from
Folly,
And heavenly prayers grace our
poetry;
Let us not love the thought that is not
holy,
Nor bend our minds to blind men's
beggary;
But let us think it our foul's miſery,
MA.
138
A Bower of Delights.
That all our Mufes do not join in
one,
To make a Quire to fing to God
alone.
For could our fpirits all agree together,
In the true ground of Virtue's humble
grace;
To fing of Heaven and of the highway
thither,
And of the joys in that moft joyful
place;
Where angels' arms the bleffed fouls
embrace;
Then God Himfelf would bleſs our
foul's inditing;
And all the world would love a
Poet's writing.
(No Whippinge.)
Jo
SATIRE THREATENED IF
NEEDED.
Then let a knave be known to be a
knave;
A thief a villain and a churl a hog;
A minx a minion and a rogue a flave;
A trull a tit, an ufurer a dog;
A Bower of Delights.
I 39
A lob a lout, a heavy lol a log;
And every bird go rooft in her own
neft,
And then perhaps my Mufe will be
at reft.
But if a Jack will be a gentleman,
And Miſtreſs Needens lady it at leaſt;
And every gooſe be ſaucy with the ſwan,
While the afs thinks he is a goodly
beaſt ;
While fo the fool doth keep Ambition's
feaft:
My Muſe in confcience that cannot
be quiet,
Will give them this good fauce unto
their diet.
But I do hope I am but in a dream;
Fools will be wifer than to lofe their
wits;
The country wench will look unto her
cream,
And workmen ſee beſt where their profit
fits,
And leave fantaſticks to their idle fits:
Pride fhall go down and virtue ſhall
increaſe ;
And then my Muſe be ftill, and hold
her peace.

140
A Bower of Delights.
But if I fee the world will not amend;
The wealthy beggar counterfeit the King,
And idle ſpirits all their humours ſpend,
In feeking how to make the cuckoo
fing;
If fortune thus do dance in Folly's ring,
When contraries thus go againſt their
kinds
My Mufe refolves to tell them what
fhe finds.
For ſhe cannot be partial in her ſpeech,
To ſmooth and flatter, to cologue and
lie ;
She cannot make a breaſt-plate of a
beech,
Nor praiſe his fight that hath but half
an eye;
She cannot do herſelf ſuch injury:
For fhe was made out of fo plain a
mould,
As doth but Truth for all her honour
hold.
(Pafquil's Madcappe.)

A Bower of Delights.
141
A SMILE MISCONSTRUED.
By your leave a little while
Love hath got a Beauty's fmile,
From on Earth the faireft face;
But he may be much deceiv'd,
Kindneſs may be miſconceiv'd;
Laughing oft is in diſgrace.
Oh, but he doth know her nature,
And to be that bleffèd creature
That doth anfwer Love with Kind-
nefs;
Tufh, the Phoenix is a fable,
Phœbus' horfes have no ftable;
Love is often full of blindneſs.
Oh, but he doth hear her voice,
Which doth make his heart rejoice
With the ſweetneſs of her found;
Simple hope may be abuſed:
Hears he not he is refuſed?
Which may give his heart a wound.
No! Love can believe it never,
Beauty favours once and ever;
Though proud Envy play the elf;
Truth and Patience have approv'd
Love ſhall ever be belov'd,
If my Miſtreſs be her ſelf.
(Melancholic Humours.)
142
A Bower of Delights.
QUAINT AND APT SAYINGS.
Fools are cozened with fair words of
fine devices, as a foul crow to be per-
fuaded with eloquence, that ſhe is be-
loved for her white bill.
(Wit's Trenchmour.)
Snarling curs will bite a man behind.
(Pafquil's Fool's Gap.)
=
A mouſe in a cupboard will mar a
whole cheeſe, and an ill-tongued woman
will trouble a whole town.
(Wit's Private Wealth.)
When the owl fings, the nightingale
will hold her peace.
(A Pofte.)
While the peacock is gazing at his
train, the fox will be knitting of his
hofe garters [=feizing him by the legs].
(Wit's Trenchmour.)
As rich as a new-fhorn ſheep.
(A Pofte.)
I now have found the fnail out by his
(Paffionate Shepheard.)
flime.
They were all ſparrows to his nightin-
(Wit's Trenchmour.)
gale.
A Bower of Delights.
143
Loſe not thy pains to teach an owl to
ſpeak.
(Mother's Bleffing.)
He is but fooliſh, were he ne'er ſo ſoon,
That runs in hafte to overtake the
moon.
(Pafquil's Fool's Cap.)
To break a bulruſh on a coat of
fteel.'
(Honour of Valour.)
'Tis money makes the man,
Yet fhall not money make him young
again, do what he can.
(A Flourish upon Fancy.)
The nearer that thy purſe is poll'd,
The more ftill friendſhip waxeth cold.
(Ibid.)
To reap the corn ere it be ripe may
prove more hafte than good ſpeed.
(Strange Fortunes.)
Hafty climbers have ſudden falls.
(Croffing of Proverbs.)
Very far in millftones to fee.
(Wit's Trenchmour.)
Once well warned is as good as twice.
(Flourish upon Fancy.)
There is no pack of cards without a
knave.
(Pafquil's Fool's Cap.)
..
•
}
144
A Bower of Delights.
1
Rather love a molehill of thine own
than a mountain of thy neighbour's.
(Wit's Trenchmour.)
Home is home, be it never fo homely.
(Strange Fortunes.)
Faint heart never won fair lady.
(Will of Wit.)
The nearer the Church the further
from God.
(Croffing of Proverbs.)
A merry companion is a waggon on
the way.
(Ibid.)
When thieves fall out true men come
by their goods.
(Ibid.)
Nothing venture, nothing having.
(Wonders worth Hearing.)
It is an ill wind that bloweth no man
to good.
(Ibid.)
The ſmall grafs of the field fills the
barn full of hay, and the poor man's
money fills the rich man's purfe. (Ibid.)
Many drops of water will drive a
(A Murmurer.)
mill.
He who has an evil name is half
hanged.
(Divine Confolations.)
The evil mind is more foul than the
blackeft face.
Spoil not thy
fuch a nut.
(A Murmurer.)
teeth with cracking
(Mother's Bleffing.)
A Bower of Delights.
145
If the cook do not lack wit he will
fweetly lick his fingers. (Fantaſtics.)
What is bred in the bone will never
out of the fleſh.
(Good and Bad.)
It is an evil bird will 'file its own
(Will of Wit.)
nest.
in a cage.
A calf in a cloſet is as ill as a cuckoo
(A Pofte.)
Ale will make a cat ſpeak. (Ibid.)
A ſtaff is foon found to beat a dog
withal.
(Croffing of Proverbs.)
|==
[=
To laugh at a horſe's neft [=modern
mare's neft']. (Flourish of Fancy.)
A curtail docked] jade will fhow
his hackney tricks. (Figure of Four.)
One ſwallow makes not fummer.
(Wit's Trenchmour.)
Efteem a horſe according to his pace,
But loofe no wages on a wild-goofe
(Mother's Bleffing.)
chaſe.
·
Good mafters are like black ſwans
[=rare (until Auftralia fent them to us)].
(A Pofte.)
The rolling ftone gathers no mofs.
(Strange Fortunes.)
Hafte makes waſte.
(Flourish of Fancy.)
To gallop ere he learn to trot.
(Pafquil's Fool's Gap.)
0
146
A Bower of Delights.
He that looks before he leaps,
Is likeft fure to ftand.
(Flourish of Fancy.)
No eye fo cloudy as the wilful blind.
(Arbor of Amorous Devices.)
Too long hoping for dead men's shoes.
(Pafquil's Pass.)
Over ſhoes, over boots.
(Croffing of Proverbs.)
[See our Introduction on Breton as
the giver of the prefent-day form to
many Proverbs.]
SENTENTIOUS SAYINGS.
He that takes much and gives nothing
fhall have more wealth than love.
He that gives much and takes nothing
ſhall have many thanks and few friends.
He that builds caftles in the air in
hope of a new world may break his neck
ere he comes to half his age.
He that rifeth early and maketh light
meals keeps his body in health and his
ftomach in temper.
If you offend God repentance will
have pardon, but if you offend the Law
take heed of execution.
-
147
A Bower of Delights.
He that ſpends more than he gets
will hardly be rich, and he that ſpeaks
more than he knows will never be
counted wife.
He that offends God to pleaſe a
creature is like him that killeth himſelf
to avoid a hurt.
He that feafteth the rich makes a
friendſhip with Mammon; but he that
relieveth the poor is bleſſed of God.
The ſhot of a cannon makes a terrible
report, but he that ſtarts at the noiſe of
it will hardly prove a foldier.
The ſpider's web is a net for a fly,
and a flattering tongue is a trap for a
fool.
The longeſt day will have night at
laft, and age will wither the ſmootheft
fkin in the world.
A fair flower without fcent is like a
fair woman without grace.
A jeft is never well broken but when
it hurteth not the hearers and profiteth
the ſpeaker.
Hope is comfortable in abfence, but
poffeffion is the true pleaſure.
A man is dead when he ſleepeth, and
darkneſs is the Sorrow of Time.
There is no true rich man but the
0 2
148
A Bower of Delights.
contented, nor truly poor but the
covetous.
The rich man's goods make him fear-
ful to die, and the poor man's want
makes him weary of his life.
Snuff a candle and it will burn clear,
and cut off dead fleſh and the wound
will heal the fooner.
Thought is a fwift traveller, and the
foul is in Heaven in an inſtant.
How vain is the love of riches, which
may be loft or left in an inftant.
if
If thou doft ill do not excufe it ;
well, do not boaſt of it.
The cares of buſineſs and the vanity
of pleaſures are the foul's hindrance to
her higheſt happineſs.
Sin comes with conception, but grace
only by impofition.
In the repentance of fin forrow brings
comfort.
Who laboureth for knowledge makes.
a benefit of Time, but he that loveth
virtue looks after Eternity.
He that makes Beauty a ftar, ftudies
a falſe aſtronomy, and he that is foundly
in love needs no other purgatory.
The looking-glafs of life becomes an
hour-glafs at death.
A Bower of Delights.
149
A cat may loſe a mouſe and catch
her again, but he that loſeth time can
never recover it.
When rich men die they are buried
with pomp, but when good men die
they are buried with tears.
A great wit may have a weak body,
and a great head but little wit.
The tiger is faid to be the cruelleft
beaſt in the world, but an uſurer upon a
bond will go to the devil for money.
The eyes grow dim when they come
to ſpectacles, and it is cold in the
valleys when fnow lieth on the moun-
tains.
The fting of a fcorpion is only healed
with his blood, and where Beauty
wounds Love makes the cure.
A fhower of rain doth well in a
drought, but when duft turns to dirt the
home is better than the highway.
When the rich prey on the poor and
the poor pray for the rich there is great
difference in praying.
Much reading makes a ready fcholar,
but the gift of Nature doth much in Art.
A far traveller feeth much, but he
that goes to Heaven makes a happy
journey.
150
A Bower of Delights.

An eſcape from danger is comfortable,
but to keep out of it is wiſdom.
The hearts of the honeft bleed in-
wardly.
A fly feeds a ſwallow that will choke
a man.
Hunger is the beft fauce to any
meat.
Some fay tobacco is good to purge
the
head, but he that followeth it well will
find it a fhrewd purge to the purſe.
No eye can ſee the brightneſs of the
fun: how glorious is then that light
from whence it hath light.
Great boaſt and ſmall roaſt makes a
cold kitchen, and ſhrugging of ſhoulders
is no paying of debts.
He that will hold out the year muft
abide Winter and Summer, and he that
will go into Heaven muſt endure the
miſeries of the world.
When a fox prowleth, beware the
geefe.
The fish in the river is not afraid of
drowning; but if he play with a bait it
will coft him his life.
A dog will rejoice at the fight of his
maſter, when, perhaps, his miſtreſs will
frown at his coming home.
1
A Bower of Delights.
151
He that hath an ill face hath need of
a good wit.
Many hands make quick work, but
one is enough in a purſe.
When geefe fly together they are
known by their cackling, and when
goffips do meet they will be heard.
When tailors began to mete lords'
lands by the yard, then began gentility
to go down the wind.
Truth hath often much ado to be
believed, and a lie runs far before it be
ſtayed.
Affability breeds love, but familiarity
contempt.
The fun is the labourer's dial, and
the cock the houſewife's watchman.
Many a dog is hanged for his ſkin,
and many a man is killed for his purſe.
'Tis foon enough that is well enough,
and never too late that doth good at
laft.
That is not to-day may be to-morrow,
but yeſterday will never come again.
Too much reading is ill for the eye-
fight, and too little reading is ill for the
in-fight.
'Be not jealous without juft cauſe.'-
[It will be remembered Shakeſpeare

152
A Bower of Delights.
puts the fentiment in the mouth of
Cæfar.]
(Wit's Private Wealth.)
SPEECH IS SILVERN, SILENCE
GOLDEN.
Oh, my thoughts, keep in your words,
Left their paffage do repent ye;
Knowing, Fortune ftill affords
Nothing, but may diſcontent ye.
If your faint be like the fun,
Sit not ye in Phoebus' chair
Left, when once the horſes run,
Ye be Dædalus his heir.
If your labours well deſerve,
Let your filence only grace them ;
And in patience hope preſerve,
That no fortune fhall deface them.
If your friend do grow unkind,
Grieve, but do not ſeem to ſhow it ;
For a patient heart ſhall find
Comfort, when the foul fhall know it.
A Bower of Delights.
153
If your truft be all betrayed,
Try, but truſt no more at all;
But in foul be not diſmayed
Whatſoever do befall.
In yourſelves yourſelves encloſe,
Keep your secrecies unſeen;
Left, when ye yourſelves difclofe,
Ye had better never been.
And whatever be your ſtate,
Do not languiſh over-long;
Left you find it, all too late,
Sorrow be a deadly fong.
And be comforted in this,
If your paffions be concealed,
Crofs or comfort, bale or blifs,
"Tis the beſt, if not revealed.
So, my dearest thoughts, adieu,
Hark, whereto my foul doth call ye!
Be but fecret, wife, and true,
Fear no evil can befall ye.
(Melancholic Humours, 1600.)
S
154
A Bower of Delights.
EDMUND SPENSER, 1599.
Mournful Mufes, Sorrow's minions
Dwelling in Deſpair's opinions;
Ye that never thought invented
How a heart may be contented; ·
(But in torments all diſtreſſèd,
Hopeleſs how to be redreffèd;
All with howling and with crying,
Live in a continual dying);
Sing a dirge on Spenfer's death,
Till your fouls be out of breath.
Bid the dunces keep their dens,
And the poets break their pens;
Bid the ſhepherds fhed their tears,
And the nymphs go tear their hairs;
Bid the ſcholars leave their reading,
And prepare their hearts to bleeding ;
Bid the valiant and the wife,
Full of forrows fill their eyes;
All for grief that he is gone,
Who did grace them every one.
Fairy Queen, fhew faireft Queen
=
How her fair in thee is feen ;
Shepherd's Calendar fet down
How to figure beſt a clown ;
Elizabeth
A Bower of Delights.
155
As for Mother Hubbard's Tale,
Crack the nut and eat the fhale; = ſhell
And for other works of worth
(All too good to wander forth),
Grieve that ever you were wrot,
And your Author be forgot.
Farewell Art of Poetry,
Scorning idle foolery ;
Farewell true conceited Reaſon,
Where was never thought of treaſon ;
Farewell judgment, with invention
To defcribe a heart's intention ;
Farewell Wit, whofe found and ſenſe
Shew a poet's excellence;
Farewell all in one together,
And with Spenfer's garland wither.
And if any Graces live,
That will Virtue honour give ;
Let them fhow their true affection
In the depth of Grief's perfection ;
In defcribing forth her glory,
When ſhe is moft deeply forry;
That they all may aſk to hear
Such a fong and fuch a quier; = choir
As with all the woes they have
Follow Spenfer to the grave.
(Melancholic Humours.)
156
A Bower of Delights.
A JESTING STORY.
<
;
FRANCIS. It was my hap to travel into
a country town or pretty village, where
I lodged in an inn at the fign of the
Wild Goofe; where, walking in the
back-fide, I ſaw a dozen of pretty fine
chickens, when, looking well upon them,
an unhappy boy (meaning to play the
knave kindly with me) told me that in
the morning all thofe chickens would be
lambs. Go to now, boy,' quoth I
'do not lie, I pray thee.' 'In truth, fir,
quoth he, it is true.' At the firſt (a
little concealing my difpleaſure con-
ceived against the boy) I wondered at
his fpeech; but in the morning I found
it true. And was not this a wonder?
LAD. No, marry, Sir, it is no wonder
that the goodman of the houſe being
called Lamb, but the chickens fhould
be all Lamb's. (Merry Wonders.)
[The occurrence ut fupra of 'back-
fide' garden, or here back-court, recalls
a miſunderſtood bit in Henry Vaughan
the Siluriſt in his 'Looking Back':
****
A Bower of Delights.
157
'How brave a proſpect is a bright back-
fide!
Where flow'rs and palms refreſh the
eye!
And days well ſpent like the glad Eaft
abide,
morning - glories cannot
Whofe
dye.'
Lyte, in his edition of Silex Scintillans,
ignorant (apparently) of the real mean-
ing, or offended by its changed applica-
tion, filently changed the text thus:
'How brave a profpect is a traverf'd
plain!"
So, too, after-reprints, until our col-
lective edition of Vaughan. A quotation
from Ben Jonfon's Cafe is Altered 'will
further illuftrate the early and later
meaning.ONION.
but if thou
wilt go with me into her father's back-
fide, old Jacques' back-fide, and ſpeak
for me to Rachel' (Activ., ſc. 3). Then
in fc. 4, Jacques being told by Rachel
that there are ſome perſons in the back-
garden, cries in fear of robbery, 'How,
in my back-ſide ? Where? What
come they for? Where are they?' It
is in this back-encloſure that Jacques digs
(
P
F

158
A Bower of Delights.
a hole for his gold and covers it with
horſe - dung, and there Onion, leſt he
ſhould be diſcovered, gets up a tree. It
might be worth while inquiring how
'back-fide' has come to have fuch a
deteriorated and oddly different mean-
ing.]
SHIPWRECKED SAILOR'S
STORY.
Melancholy walking a little on. . . .
I began to frame myſelf to the humour
of a cunning beggar; when, meeting
with a grave old man-who by his velvet
coat, his golden chain and his rich-
furred gown, ſhould ſeem to be at the
leaſt ſome rich Burgher, if not ſome
Burghmafter of fome city-this well-
apparelled picture with a kind of life.
that gave the body leave to carry the
head upon a ſquare pair of fhoulders:
I, in hope to find him more comfortable
than the fair houfe of Mafter Mock-
beggar, having faluted with a great
reverence, and being requited with a
proud nod, I yet adventured to board
with a few words. When, hoping to

A Bower of Delights.
159
<
have found him a man of no lefs under-
ſtanding ſpirit, to judge of the eſtate
and conditions of men, than bounty in
the relief of the unfortunately diftreffed,
I fell aboard with him with theſe few
words: Sir, I think you have heard of
the hard fortune of the Buon-a-venture,
who put into your harbour the other night,
hardly faving her life with lofs of all her
goods and fome of her people. Myfelf,
with much ado, well weather-beaten, as
you may fee, with fome few that lie
fick in the haven, got to fhore, and am
now travelling towards your city near
before me. Loth am I to enter into
any baſe courſe for my comfort; but if
I might be beholden to your good
favour in this time of my diſtreſs, giving
me your name withal, I doubt not, if I
live, but either by myſelf or my better
friends, to find a time either to requite
or deſerve it.' He, as one whoſe heart
was ſo ſhut up in his purfe that he
underſtood nothing but ware and money,
after a harſh hum or two, gave me this
anſwer: Was there nothing faved of
her goods, I pray you? What was her
freight?' 'Sir,' quoth I, 'it was moſt
filks and ſpices, but fome pearl and
P 2

160
A Bower of Delights.
money, more than would have been
willingly loft.' "Good commodities,'
quoth he, by my fay [=faith], a fhrewd
mifchance; I am sorry
am sorry for ye; I would
I could do ye good, but am now in
hafte going about a little buſineſs, and
therefore I cannot ftand to talk with
you. God be with you; the town is
hard before you, you will be there anon;
but if you have any jewels or pearl that
you have faved, I will give you money
for it, if I like it.' Truly, Sir,' quoth
I, jewels I have not many, only two
rings on my fingers, and this bracelet of
pearl I have faved. My bracelet coſt
me a hundred crowns; if it pleaſe you
to have it of the price it coſt, though
against my will, I will part with it.'
With this upon his bottle-red noſe he
drops on a pair of fpectacles, and look-
ing on my pearl, found fault with the
roundneſs and the clearneſs, and I know
not elfe, till at the laſt, thinking to make
a gain of my miſery, he offered me ten
crowns, ſaying that he had no need of it,
but rather than I ſhould be disfurniſhed
of money (being a ftranger), he would
adventure fo much on it. Whereat I
fwallowed a figh, and concealing my dif-
A Bower of Delights.
161
content, defired him to pardon me. I
hoped to find fome of my countrymen in
the city, that I would be as bold as I
might withal. Thus, with an idle word
or two, did I leave this good old gentle-
man, in whom how much I was, and
many more no doubt have been, mif-
taken, I refer to the judgment of thoſe
that can ſpell him with book, and my
defire never to come near him within
book.
The ſhadow of a man, and
the ſubſtance of a money-bag; with
charity or humanity, by the hypocritical
figure of gravity, to be a creature of
underſtanding, a man of honour, and a
bleffed reliever of the miferable.
(A Mad World, my Maſters.)
•
[With reference to the words 'bord'
and aboard,' a quotation from George.
Herbert will make the meaning clear :
'Affect in things about thee cleanlineffe,
That all may gladly board thee, as a
flower.'
French aborder, to go or come fide by
fide with; hence it has the fame ety-
mology and fignification as 'accord'
(accoast, Fr. cofte or côte): accoft her or
C
162
A Bower of Delights.
;
front her, board her, woo her, affail her'
(Twelfth Night,' i. 3). As a refulting
fenſe, the French aborder alfo means to
become familiar with. (Cotgrave.)]
Ja
SUMMER.
It is now Summer, and Zephirus with
his ſweet breath cools the parching
beams of Titan. The leaves of the
trees are in whiſper-talks of the bleffings
of the air, while the nightingale is
tuning her throat to refreſh the weary
ſpirit of the traveller. Flora now brings
out her wardrobe, and richly em-
broidereth her green apron. The
nymphs of the woods, in concert with
the Mufes, fing an ave to the morning
and a vale to the fun's fetting. The lambs
and the rabbits run at baſe [= game of
priſoner's baſe] in the fandy warrens,
and the plough lands are covered with
corn. The ftately hart is at lair in
the high wood, while the hare in a
furrow fits waſhing of her face. The
bull makes his walk like a maſter of the
field and the broad-headed ox bears the
A Bower of Delights.
163
garland of the market. The Angler
with a fly takes his pleaſure with the
fifh, while the little merlin [= hunting-
hawk] hath the partridge in the foot.
The honey-dews perfume the air, and
the funny fhowers are the earth's com-
fort. The greyhound on the plain
makes the fair courfe, and the well-
mouthed hound makes the mufic of the
woods. The battle of the field is now
ftoutly fought, and the proud rye muſt
ftoop to the fickle. The carter's whiſtle
cheers his forehorſe, and drink and ſweat
is the life of the labourer. Idle ſports
are baniſhed the limits of honour, while
the ſtudious brain brings forth his
works. The azure ſky ſhows the heaven
is gracious, and the glorious fun glads.
the ſpirit of Nature. The ripened
fruits fhow the beauty of the Earth,
and the brightneſs of the air the glory
of the heavens. In fum, for the world
of work I find in it, I thus conclude of
it: I hold it a moft fweet reaſon, the
variety of pleaſures and the paradiſe of
Love. Farewell.
ल
上​一
​-
(Fantastics.)
So
W

164
A Bower of Delights.
CHRISTMAS DAY.
·
It is now Chriſtmas, and not a cup of
drink muſt paſs without a carol. The
beafts, fowl and fifh come to a general
execution, and the corn is ground to
duft for the bakehouſe and the paſtry.
Cards and dice purge many a purſe, and
the youth fhow their agility in fhooting.
of the wild mare. *
Now good cheer
and Welcome, and God be with you,'
and 'I thank you,' and againſt the New
Year provide for the prefents. The
Lord of Mifrule is no mean man for his
time,† and the gueſts of the high table
muft lack no wine. The lufty bloods
muſt look about them like men, and
piping and dancing puts away much
melancholy. Stolen venifon is fweet,
and a fat coney is worth money.
Pit-
falls [= Snares] are now fet for ſmall
birds and a woodcock hangs himſelf in
a gin. A good fire heats all the houſe,
and a full alms-baſket makes the beggar's
prayers. The Maſkers and the Mummers
make the merry ſport; but if they loſe
Wild mare
Old English sport.
† Along with Maskers of the Mummers,
etc. a sport of the season.
>
=

A Bower of Delights.
165
their money their drum goes dead.
Swearers and ſwaggerers are ſent away
to the alehouſe, and unruly wenches go
in danger of judgment. Muficians now.
make their inftruments ſpeak out, and
a good fong is worth the hearing. In
fum, it is a holy time, a duty in Chriſ-
tians for the remembrance of Chriſt,
and cuſtom among friends for the main-
tenance of good-fellowſhip. In brief,
I thus conclude it: I hold it a memory
of the Heaven's love and the World's
peace, the mirth of the honeſt and the
meeting of the friendly.
I
Farewell.
(Fantaſtics.)
EASTER DAY.
It is now Eafter, and Jack of Lent is
turned out of doors. The fishermen
now hang up their nets to dry, while
the calf and the lamb walk towards the
kitchen and the paſtry [qu. pantry ?].
The velvet heads of the foreft [= deer]
fall at the loofe of the croff-bow. The
falmon-trout plays with the fly, and the
March rabbit runs dead into the diſh.
a pa ga pa se va

166
A Bower of Delights.
The Indian commodities pay the mer-
chant's adventure, and Barbary fugar
puts honey out of countenance. The
Holy Feaft is kept for the faithful, and
a known Jew hath no place among
Chriftians. The Earth now begins to
paint her upper garment, and the trees
put out their young buds; the little kids
chew their cuds, and the ſwallow feeds
on the flies in the air. The ftork
cleaneth the brooks of the frogs, and the
fpar-hawk prepares her wing for the
partridge. The little fawn is ftolen
from the doe, and the male deer begin to
herd. The ſpirit of youth is inclined
to mirth, and the confcionable fcholar
will not break a holiday. The minstrel
calls the maid from her dinner, and the
lover's eyes do troll the tenniſ-balls.
There is mirth and joy when there is
health and liberty; and he that hath
money will be no mean man in his
manfion. The air is wholeſome and the
ſky comfortable. The flowers are
odoriferous, and the fruits pleafant. I
conclude it is a day of much delightful-
neſs the fun's dancing day and the
Earth's holiday. Farewell.
(Fantaſtics.)
A Bower of Delights.
167
AUTHORS OF HIGH
TRAGEDIES.
Go tell the authors of High Tragedies
That bloodlefs quarrels are but merry
fights;
And fuch as beſt conceit their Comedies,
Do feed their fancies but with fond
delights;
Where toys will show that figure
Truth's intention,
They fpoil their ſports with too much
invention.
*
Go bid the Poets ftudy better matter,
Than Mars and Venus in a Tragedy;
And bid them leave to learn, to lie and
flatter,
In plotting of a Lover's Comedy;
And bid Play-Writers better ſpend
their ſpirits
Than in fox-burrows or in coney-
ferrits.*
(Pasfquil's Meffage.)
* See note under 'Pasquil's Message; also
our Introduction. Meantime, the last line of
above quotation may be noted as a gird at
unhappy Robert Greene and his 'fox-burrows'
and 'coney'-catching books.

168
A Bower of Delights.
FOREIGN AND HOME TRAVEL.
Adventures are dangerous, the feas
boisterous and the waves perilous; and
great is the difference between ftrange
companions and home friends. What
canft thou ſee abroad that is not here?
The fame Earth, and little different in
nature either for heat or cold. The
fame fun fhining there that ſhineth
here. Men and women in the fame
fhape that thou ſeeft here. In their
univerſities the fame kind of ſcholars.
In their cities, merchants and men of
trade and traffic as we have in ours.
In their villages, fuch farmers and
labourers. In their tribunal-feats, fuch
judges. In their wars, fuch men of
arms. In their Court, fuch lords and
ladies; and in all places fuch kind of
people as in fome places of our dominion
thou mayeft take notice of if thou be
circumfpect. What ſhall I fay to per-
fuade thee rather to ftay at home than
ftray abroad? Thou haft a father that
loves thee more dearly than any friend
can do
; a fifter whofe virtue with her
beauty deſerveth an honourable fortune,
A Bower of Delights.
169
and which I think not thy leaſt charge
in conſcience to have a care of, inaf-
much as may be in thee to accompliſh;
thy mother holds thee fo dear as her
life; thy friends make a game of thy
kindneſs; thy followers in thine honour
ſettle the hope of their fortune, and my
fubjects in thy wiſdom repoſe the happi-
neſs of their whole ftate. All this and
many more particular cauſes of content
thou haft here at home, likely every day
to encreaſe; where abroad how bitter
will be thy change, I fear to think,
fhould forrow to hear, and ſhall not live
to digeft. Then, perhaps, fuch may be
the merciful nature of the glorious
height of the Heaven's higheſt grace, as
may favour thy difpofition, profper thy
adventures, and bless thee in all thy
actions. But as it is ill to diftruft God,
fo is it not good to tempt Him: anſwer
me therefore truly to this, I demand of
thee, whether thy defire be to travel or
not, and what are the reaſons that
perſuade thy reſolution; however it be,
you fhall find in me that kindneſs that
the condition of thy love deſerveth.
(Strange Fortunes.)
Q
170
A Bower of Delights.
I
AN USURER.
An Ufurer is a figure of Miſery, who
hath made himſelf a ſlave to his money.
His eye is clof'd from pity, and his hand
from charity; his ear from compaffion
and his heart from piety. While he
lives he is the hate of a Chriſtian, and
when he dies, he goes with horror to
Hell. His ſtudy is fparing, and his care
is getting; his fear is wanting, and his
death is lofing. His diet is either faſting
or poor fare; his clothing the hang-
man's wardrobe; his houſe the re-
ceptacle of knavery, and his mufic the
chinking of his money. He is a kind of
canker that with the teeth of Intereſt
eats the hearts of the poor, and a
venomous fly that fucks out the blood of
any fleſh that he alights on. In fum,
he is a fervant of droſs, a flave to miſery,
an agent for Hell and a devil in the
world.
(Good and Bad.)
Io
A Bower of Delights.
171
A BEGGAR.
A Beggar is the child of Idleneſs,
whoſe life is a refolution of eaſe. His
travel is moſt in the highways and his
rendezvous is commonly an alehouſe.
His ſtudy is to counterfeit impotency
and his practice to cozen fimplicity of
Charity. The juice of the malt is the
liquor of his life, and at bed and board
a loufe is his companion. He fears no
fuch enemy as a conftable, and being
acquainted with the ftocks muft vifit
them as he goes by them. He is a drone
that feeds upon the labours of the bee,
and unhappily begotten that is born for
no goodneſs. His ſtaff and his ſcrip are
his walking furniture, and what he lacks
in meat he will have out in drink. He
is a kind of caterpillar that ſpoils much
good fruit, and an unprofitable creature
to live in a Commonwealth. He is
feldom handfome and often noifome,
always troubleſome and never welcome.
He prays for all and preys upon all;
begins with bleffing but ends often with
curfing. If he has a licenſe he ſhows it
with a grace, but if he has none, he is
fubmiffive to the ground. Sometimes
Q 2

172
A Bower of Delights.
he is a thief, but always a rogue; and
in the nature of his profeffion the fhame
of Humanity. In fum, he is commonly
begot in a buſh, born in a barn, lives in
a highway, and dies in a ditch.
(Good and Bad.)
A WAGGERY.
Children's abs and women's ohs,
Do a wondrous grief diſcloſe ;
Where a dug the one will ftill,
And the t'other but a will.
Then in God's name let them cry;
While they cry they will not die;
For but few that are fo curft
As to cry until they burft.
Say fome children are untoward;
So fome women are as froward;
Let them cry then, 'twill not kill them ;
There is time enough to ſtill them.
But if Pity will be pleaf'd
To relieve the ſmall diſeaſ’d
When the help is once applying
They will quickly leave their crying.
=
uneasy

A Bower of Delights.
173
Let the child then fuck his fill ;
Let the woman have her will;
All will huſh was heard before;
Ah and oh will cry no more.
(Melancholic Humours.)
So
WATCHFULNESS.
To have a kind of fuperficial fight
In hawks and hounds, and horſe and
fowl and fish,
Is not amifs; but let thy heart's delight
Be never fettled in an idle diſh,
Nor fhow thy folly in a wanton wiſh;
Be filent to thyself whate'er thou
thinkeft,
And take good heed with whom and
where thou drinkeft
Learn for inftruction, read for exerciſe;
Practiſe for knowledge and for gain re-
member;
In worldly pleaſures make no paradife ;
Know that thou art of Chrift His church
a member,
And do not make thine April in Sep-
tember;
174
A Bower of Delights.
Unto thy God in youth direct thy ways,
And He will bless thee in thine aged
days.
Let Confcience know the title of a crown,
Yet know withal there is a King of
kings,
Who hoifteth up and headlong tumbleth
down;
And all the world doth cover with His
wings;
While heaven and earth but of His glory
fings:
To whom diſcharge the love thou daily
oweft,
And He will blefs thee wherefoe'er thou
goeft.
Wink at the world as though thou
faw'ft it not,
And all Earth's treaſure but as trafh
deſpiſe;
Let not thy folly loſe that wit hath got,
Nor loſe an art by lack of exerciſe ;
Yet let no labour honour prejudice ;
Be wifely ſparing but not miſerable,
miferly
And rather die than be diſhonourable.
(A Mother's Bleſſing.)

A Bower of Delights.
175
YEOMAN: 1618—TO A
COURTIER.
For your gentlemen, we have good
Yeomen that ufe more courteſy, or at
leaft, kindneſs than
than courteſy, more
friendship than compliments, and more.
truth than eloquence; and perhaps I
may tell you I think we have more
ancient and true gentlemen that hold
the plough in the field than you have
in great places that wait with a trencher
at a table; and I have heard my
father fay, this I believe to be true, that
a true gentleman will be better known
by his infide than his outfide: for (as
he faid) a true gentleman will be like
himſelf, ſober but not proud, liberal and
yet thrifty, wife but not full of words;
and better feen on the land than be too
bufy with the laws one that fears God,
will be true to his king, and well knows
how to live in the world, and whatſo-
ever God fends hath the grace to be
content with it; loves his wife and his
children, is careful for his family, is a
friend to his neighbour and no enemy
to himſelf; and this (faid my father) is
indeed the true gentleman and for his
:
176
A Bower of Delights.
qualities, if he can ſpeak well, and ride
well, and fhoot well, and bowl well, we
defire no more of him. But for kiffing
of the hand, as if he were licking of his
fingers, hanging down the head as if his
neck were out of joint; or scratched
by the foot as if he were a corn-cutter ;
or leering afide like a wench after her
ſweetheart; or winking with one eye
as though he were levying at a wood-
cock; and fuch apifh tricks as came out
of the Land of Petito, where a monkey
and a baboon make an urchin generation;
and for telling of tales of the adven-
turous knight and the ftrange lady; and
for writing in rhyme or talking in profe
with more tongues than teeth in his
head; and with that which he brought
from beyond the ſeas which he cannot
get rid of at home, for fwearing and
braving, fcoffing and fnubbing, with
fuch tricks of the devil's teaching, we
allow none of that learning.
(Courtier and Countryman.)
THE END.

Elliot Stock, 62, Paternoster Row, London, E.C.
UNIVERSITY
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3 9015 03085 0633
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