FENNORS DEFENCE: Or, I am your first Man.
VVherein the VVater-man, IOHN TAYLOR, is dasht, sowst, and finally fallen into the Thames: With his slanderous Taxations, base Imputations, scandalous Accusations, and foule Abhominations, against his Maiesties Ryming Poet: who hath Answered him without Vexations, or trembling Recantations.
The Reason of my not meeting at the Hope with Taylor, is truly demonstrated in the Induction to the Iudger.
Thy hastie Gallop my milde Muse shall checke,
That if thou sit not sure, will breake thy necke.
LONDON, Printed for Roger Barnes, and are to be sold at his shop in S. Dunstans Churchyard in Fleetstreet, 1615.
To all that can Iudge, of what Degree soeuer.
IVdiciall Reader, after a Supper of Slanders, giue me leaue to bestow a Banquet of Defence; which, I hope, shall rellish with more delight in thy generous opinion. I am sorrie that my Penne [...] pluckt backe from better Occasions, to an [...]were an Opposite so ignoble. But seeing my Reputation is shot at by such a poysoned Pi [...]toll, I thought it meete to scrue out the Bul [...]t of his Infamie with my approued Hone [...]ie, before it grew ranke, or festered too farre [...]n the Worlds Apprehension. But to the pur [...]ose: Maister Taylor, the Gentleman-like [...]culler at the Hope on the Banke-side, at a [Page] friends house of mine, acquainted me with his Proiect; which was as followeth: That hee the said Taylor had studied such seuerall Humors in Prose, as neuer were the like before: (which indeede fell out true, to his shame) wherein hee would haue me ioyne; hee to play a Scene in Prose, and I to answere him in Verse: Whereto I condiscended, on these Conditions; viz. That I might haue halfe the Commoditie thereof; Or Securitie for fiue pounds; Or else twentie shillings in hand, and the rest as the Day affoorded. Next, That I might heare his Booke read (which was fit) to know on what ground I might build my Inuention. And last, That I should see the Manner of his Challenge before it was published, and set my Answere to it with my owne hand. To all which hee graunted, and deliuered mee fiue Shillings vpon the same: Whereupon I promised faithfully, That if all this were on his part performed, I would (God willing) meete him, and with my best endeauor striue to give the Audience content. Now, here I must entreat you, before you condemne mee, note but the Occasions of my Breach of Promise: This Water-Taylor, with his Confederates, presuming he had bound [Page] me with his Earnest-money, printed his Challenge-Bill, and my Answere annexed thereunto, without my Hand, Knowledge, or Consent: Nay more; My Answere was by him set vp so meane and insufficient to so brauing a Challenge, that I altogether disliked thereof (as I had reason) and thereupon sent my Man with the Money fiue dayes before the Play, to certifie them, That I was otherwise employed, and would not come, in regard of the Wrong done vnto mee, in setting vp my Answere without my Consent: My Man deliuered the Message, but lost the Money at Play, emboldening himselfe vpon the Wrongs I had receiued; which I haue since payed. And the same day I receiued a Letter out of Warwickeshire from my Father, That he was not well; wishing mee and my wife to repayre vnto him with all possible speede. Now, you that are Parents of Children, or Children to Parents, Iudge, whether I ought rather to disobay my Father, or displease Iohn Taylor; purchase my Fathers hate, or lose a Scullers loue; and I hope you will say I had sufficient cause to keepe me from the Hope. But fearing my homely Truth (though it be sufficient to plead my Honestie) is not answerable to your [Page] [...]xpectation of my practice in Poesie; I will, as [...]eare as I can, fit my Muse to your liking, which is my content: And euer rest honester by Land then Taylor by Water,
WILL: FENNOR.
Although I cannot Rogue it, as he can,
Yet will I shew my selfe an honest man.
AN APOLOGIE to the Anagram of my Name, made by no Scholler, but a Sculler.
IT were a simple Tree thy breath could shake;
But see (meere Malice) how thou dost mistake:
For what thy Title would bestow on me,
They selfe art Author of. New Villanie.
But since thou vrgest me, marke how Ile blase
That name; which thou w
t villanie wouldst glafe:
For I will ope the Casement, and cleare Light
Shall chase thy blacke verse to eternall Night.
When the first
William, Duke of Normandie,
Sayl'd from the Coasts of France to Britanie,
Amongst his best Rankes came a Chiualiere,
Whose name in French was called
le Fogniere,
Which thē our English Toung so well did tender,
Gaue him the Name and Title of Defender.
On the Sea-coasts he did defend so well,
That for his Crest he beares the Scallop shell.
Since, briefer Language giues vs
Fennors name,
Nor can thy impudence impaire the same:
And for a Token of wrong'd Innocence,
I doe resume my first name for Defence.
My
Anagram if thou but rightly scan,
Then thou wilt finde 'tis,
I will feare no man.
[Page]How can I then feare thee that art a Taylor,
A shred of Fustian, and a ragged Raylor;
A dish that is not worth the feeding on,
When thou art best in Lent, th'art but Poore
Iohn.
An Anagram vpon the Scullers Name. IOHN TAYLOR, Anagramma. O Hate, rayle on.
O Hate rayle on; or this, Rayle on, O Hate:
For spight of Rayling, I must dedicate
An answere to thy Theame, though nere so large,
Will sink thy Scullers Boat, though 'twere a Barge.
To halter vp your Muse, my Muse beginnes;
Ile trusse the Iade for breaking peoples shinnes.
Then Monster doe thy worst, yerke out thy fill,
Thou canst not touch my godnesse with thy ill:
Though Horses breake their Bridles, and escape,
My Lines shall loade an Asse, or whippe an Ape.
To his approued Foe Iohn Taylor.
I Haue lookt ouer with my best Prospectiues,
And view'd the tenor of thy base Inuectiues:
But if thou knewst how slenderly I weigh them,
Thou wouldst not make such labor to display them,
All that my
Lyntia in thy vaine discernes,
Is Roguish Language, such as Newgate learnes.
I thinke thou hast beene tutor'd in the Stewes;
For thine's the perfect speech they onely vse:
Base Roguish Wishes, Cursing, and Reuiling,
Tempestuous Raylings, and good Names defiling.
Yet maugre Mallice
Iohn, I pitie thee
For all the paines thou hast bestow'd on me;
And were my Purse but of abilitie,
Ide recompence thy labours horriblie:
But since my meanes vnable is to right thee,
Marke how my Penne in kindnes shal requite thee.
I will bestow a sheet or two of Paper,
And sit the burning of a Tallow Taper,
To tell thee thou art monstrous insolent:
Although thy Verse is lame and impotent;
And at the highest, thou art but partaker
With Libell-spreaders, or some Ballade-maker.
But doe not thinke thou dealst with
Coriate,
Whose bosome thou didst bolt a Storie at;
[Page]Nor looke not for such Batterie at my Walls,
As 'gainst the Knight o'the Sunne, or
Archibales;
Expect not Captaine
Ottooles vnderstanding:
No, no; against a Bulwarke thou art banding
Of better temper, and a Nobler spirit,
Then euer thy base bosome could inherite.
'Gainst
Cynthia, like a Wolf, th'oult bark & howle,
Wherby thou shewst thy iudgemēt dark & fowle.
Thou grieu'st, my Muse with her reflecting rayes,
Hath quite ecclipst a famous Scullers prayse:
Thou wouldst haue Poesie in none to flourish,
But in thy selfe; O thou art too too currish:
Banish this selfe-conceit; false shadie dreames
Hang in thy heart, and driue thee to extreames.
But why doe I presume to counsell thee,
That hat'st good Counsell, as thou hatest me?
Wherefore I leaue thy brasen Impudence,
To answere thy Reuenge with my Defence.
Defence.
HOw Rascall-like, thou dealst with me at first;
Thou shewst frō what Antiquitie th'art nurst:
How darst thou of thy Satyre-Musicke boast,
That now stands bound vnto the whipping Post?
But I will spare thee, thou intemperate Asse,
Vntill in Bride-well thou shalt currant passe.
Thou sayst, I had better with the Deuill deale;
By which thou do'st thy wickednesse reueale:
[Page]But I haue naught to doe with him or thee;
If thou be his companion, God blesse me.
To crouch, or whyne, thou giu'st me no occasion;
But I must laugh at thy absurd persuation:
Thou art that Lernean Snake, squeeze thine owne gall,
But 'tis too bad to make thee Inke withall.
Th'ast gone so long to Styx for mingled Inke,
That all thy verses in mens nosthrils stinke.
For Pens, the Scrich-Owles fethers are too tough;
A Gooses Wing for thee is good ynough.
Thou hast emblas'd me, Basest slaue of Men;
That name I freely send thee backe agen,
Vntill the World hath better eyes to see
Which is the basest Iacke, my selfe, or thee.
Thou call'st me Rogue so artificiall,
That I must iudge thee for one naturall:
The Iniurie proceeded from thy toung,
And yet y
u wouldst make me thy cloake for wrong.
But do'st thou thinke the matter is no more,
But hang my selfe; thy counsell I abhore:
And take thou heed of this inchanted Spell,
Iohn Taylor ended like
Achitophel.
What foolish Asse, like thee, would take in hand
To play a Play, that couldst not vnderstand
What thine owne follie is, thou art so blinde;
Onely to basenesse thou art well inclin'de.
Do'st thinke I had no businesse, but to wait
On thy detested Fopperies Conceit:
[Page]Yet I protest, hadst thou but sent the Bill
For me to answere, Ide haue shew'd my skill:
Which would haue beene so much to thy disgrace,
That thou againe durst nere haue shew'd thy face.
Canst thou imagine, that I went away
For feare of thee, or thy contemned Play:
Know foole, when on the Stage I purchasd worth,
I scornd to send for thee to helpe me forth.
And put the case that I should challenge thee,
Thy rayling Spirit could not answere mee:
For thou art nothing without three months studie;
Ide beat my braines out, if they were so muddie.
Fiue shillings I confesse I had of thee;
Which I protest my seruant had from me
For to repay thee: but since he did sayle,
Thou mightst haue sent to me; not write, and rayle
On him, that holds his honestie more deare
Then all the Thames Reuenewes in a yeare.
But here thou driu'st me to a short demurre,
To know why thou shouldst call a Christian, Curre:
Oh, I haue found it; to my griefe I see,
That Curres and Christians are alike to thee.
But was thy credit by my treason slaine;
Faith I know none thou hadst to lose or staine.
I wonder much at thy simplicitie,
That thou shouldst chalenge me for sharking thee;
When of my troth I had rather giue thee gifts,
Then see thee driuen to such paltrie shifts.
[Page]Thou and thy Squire oft have ferried mee,
More oft then I and mine haue rim'd to thee,
If euer I haue sung to nastie Whores,
Thou or some Pander, like thee, kept the dores:
For I am sure, that for as little meanes,
As two pence, thou wilt carry knaues y queanes.
I know not what thou meanst by Daxie Dell,
It seemes with them thou art acquainted well.
For scrappes & broken beere it is so rare
For mee to rime, that thou shall haue my share:
For though much wealth I want to maintaine mee
I'll neuer trouble Whores, nor Rogues, nor thee.
Allow I am squint-eyde, yet with those eyes
I can thy Baboonestrickes anatomize.
But prethee, which of all the Deuils cramb'd
That word of judgement in the Thou art damb'd?
I'd rather wish thee talke of thy saluation,
Lest hate should hurrie thee into damnation.
Had'st thou begun with Brothell then transcended
Vnto a Tauerne, thou thy state hadst mended:
But thou dost all thou canst to cut my throat
And cheat mee of the Tinker and his groat:
Thou hast so many voyages to hell,
That Nemesis will like thy visage well;
And for to make hels number one the fuller,
Charon will take thee for his vnder Sculler:
And frō those lossing torments w.
ch torment thee.
I'll find a shelter, though it discontent thee.
[Page]Why dost thou blame my tongue, 'cause it proclai
[...]
Myself a seruant to my Soueraigne Iames
I would all hearts & tongues w.
th mine w.
ch sing
Their loyall duty to my Lord the King.
His Royall fauor makes thy enuy swell,
As by thy words all may discerne it well.
Thy base comparison I hate and curse,
Pray heauen thy seruice to him proue no wors
[...]
For then my Rime shall tell thee this in Reason
Shalt ne'r be hang'd for fellony nor treason.
Now for the rest, thou poore Beare garden sport
I scorne to tell thee how I liue in Court:
Yet for to certifie thee, thou shalt know it,
It hath pleasd the King to call mee his Ryming Po
[...]
Although too farre vnworthy, I confesse,
To merit it, the Title I possesse:
Yet without boasting, let me boldly say,
I'll ryme with any man that breaths this day
Vpon a subject in extempore,
Or else be blotted from all memorie,
For any wager dare ingaged be.
Then thinke what cause I had to run from the
[...]
Except it were, because I would not heare,
How thou absurdly didst abuse each eare.
But thou dost taske me with my sawcinese,
That I myselfe a Poet dare professe:
Wouldst thou have me rob Nature of her gifts
Why that were baser then thy basest shifts:
[Page]Yet my esteeme of course extempory,
Is but as seruile to sweet Poesie,
Why wouldst thou trouble
Homer from his rest,
To view the slanders belcht from thy base brest.
Were
Ouid liuing, hee would discommend thee,
Horace in steed of wine would water send thee:
And famous
Virgill, in his lofty stile,
At this thy rayling humor would but smile.
Last, all that haue deseru'd a Lawrell wreath,
Vnto thy Muse a paire of sculls bequeath.
Alas pore Spong, thou suckst vp naught but spight
And dost me open wrong thy faults to right:
What Coxcombe foole would proffer such abuses
As thou hast done to Poets and the Muses?
But deare
Taliae in her riming fit
Sung,
Thou wilt die a foole, for want of wit,
Thou saist thy iudgement can compose a verse;
What my opinion's of thee Ile rehearse,
Thou art no better then a Poets Whelpe,
That fauning vp and downe seekes after helpe:
I could be like thy selfe, vnmannerly,
But that I scorne thy stile should tutor me.
No, burne thy selfe out, like a Candle-snuffe,
'Tis vaine to make thee worse, th'art bad enuffe.
Thou taxest me, that I abroad do vaunt,
What Lords & Knights to me their fauors graunt;
It also seemes that thou from me would'st know,
What Countesses and Ladies countenance shew.
[Page]I'le tell thee plainely; such do entertaine me,
That for thy rayling baseness will disdaine thee,
Had they thy hungry chapps once foddered,
Thou wouldst not title them embrodered.
But, Syrra, though you meddle with your mate
Thou shouldst learn maners to forbeare the state
And not to descant vppon Court and King,
Twere fitter thou shouldst of a Sculler sing.
Presumptuous foole, how dar'st thou be so bo
[...]
To speake of Kings whom men with feare behol
[...]
You say, you know his royall Maiesty
Will not allow his Court to harbour me:
Nay more; your Scullership doth know right w
[...]
That I no longer in his house shal dwell.
Is then his wisedome think'st thou such meane treasur
[...]
That Water-men must know his royall pleasure
Yet I confesse so farre his will they know
When he directs them whether they shall goe.
It may bee thou wa'st put in office lately,
Which makes thee rogue me so, & rayle so state
But when thy head peepes through the pillory
I doubt these termes thy eares must iustifie.
For thy bace words are of such hard digestion,
They'l cause sorn stomack call thy name in quest
[...]
Thou hopst to see me whipt; stand fast blind
Ho
[...]
For feare thou stumble into th'Porters Lodge:
Raue, rayle, doe what thou canst, I'le neuer cea
[...]
To serue my soueraigne maister King of peace.
[Page]Watch till thy eyes fall out; Write; do thy worst;
I haue a Penne and Inkhorne is as curst,
To answere all thy Rayling, Satyrizing,
In three daies, what y
u three months art deuising:
And when thy quarter-Cockatrice sees light,
In troth it is not worthie of mans sight.
But I am sorrie that thy credit's tainted,
To make thee and thy Chaundler vnacquainted:
Will he not score no more for Egges and Cheese,
Because he saw thy Hope vpon her knees?
Rather then thou shouldst lay that fault on me,
Come where I dwell, Ile passe my word for thee:
For Reputation thou canst haue no more,
Then in a Bakers debt, or Ale-wifes score:
And if thou be deny'de both Bread and Drinke,
Thy Writing and thy Rowing's like to shrinke.
Leaue these Inuectiues, trust vnto thy Scull,
For that's the way to fill thy bellie full
Of Meat and Drinke; besides this Consolation,
Thou labor'st truly in thine owne Vocation.
Why shouldst thou stagger after Poesie,
That is attended on by Pouertie?
I wish thee as my friend; ne're goe about it;
For, as I guesse, th'art poore ynough without it.
I see thou art so bare and desperate,
Thou wouldst turn Hangman to aduance thy state;
And hang vp me; but (Sculler) Ile ore-match you,
And stand to see a Hempen halter catch you:
[Page]For the old prouerbe neuer failed yet,
Who spreads netts for his friends, snares his owne feet,
But yet I wonder since thou hat'st my life,
Thou shouldst professe such kindnes to my wife,
If thy hot loue without deceipt be feruent,
My kitchin Maide shall take the for her feruant,
For all the loue that from my wife proceeds,
Is scorning of thy person and thy deeds:
Thou calst them wittols that lead quiet liues,
But none but Rascalls will abuse their wiues.
But now to the disasters of the day,
How thou miscariedst with thy Hopefull play.
Of thy mishapps no long discourse ile tell,
How thou amongst them mad'st a beastly smell.
Thou dost commend the Players for their action,
But they were all ashamd of thy distraction,
For them, as much as thine, my praise alowe,
For none amongst them plaide the foole but thou:
Thou wouldst same finde a fault, yet knowst not where,
When in thy bosome it appeareth cleare.
Thy cheefest rayling and thy strongst euasion,
Is against me, yet thou art the occasion.
Another while thou blamst the Audience,
When thou wast cause of their impatience;
The better sort said I was wise enuffe,
To keep me out of that black whirle-winde puffe,
Which almost blue the hangings from the stage,
Was ere such folly knowne in any age?
[Page]Thou sayst, the Maundering Begger credit got,
For that, thou knowst I know a Poet wrot:
For all the rest, that was deuisde by thee,
Was nothing but a heape of Fopperie.
I heard, thou letst the Wine run tumbling downe
Thy rotten wind-pipe, like a drunken Clowne:
But yet thy Lion drunke could not defend thee,
For 'twas thy Ape drunke made some men cōmend thee:
For that daies censure thou canst not escape,
Which sayes, That all thy actions playde the Ape.
But thy Tobacco was such stinking stuffe,
That all the people cry'de, Enough, enough.
Thy third Act shew'd the humors of men frantick,
Wherin, most like an Asse, thou stoodst for Antick:
I saw it not whether it were good or bad;
But wise men iudge thee either foole, or mad.
Thy last Act shewes thy skill vpon the Seas
To be so rare; it did them all displease:
And in conclusion, such a Tempest rose,
That blew thee off, and made thy friends thy foes.
And woldst thou load my back with al this blame?
Nay; as thou got'st the coyne, so take the shame:
And let me tell thee this, to calme thy Rage.
I chaleng'd
Kendall on the Fortune Stage;
And he did promise 'fore an Audience
For to oppose me; note the Accidence:
I set vp Bills, the People throng'd apace,
With full intention to disgrace, or grace;
[Page]The House was ful, the Trūpets twice had foūded,
And though he came not, I was not confounded,
But stept vpon the Stage, and told them this;
My Aduerse would not come: not one did hisse;
But flung me Theames: I then
extempore
Did blot his name from out their memorie,
And pleasd them all, in spight of one to braue me,
Witnesse the Ringing Plaudits that they gaue me.
Was not this iust the case 'twixt me and thee?
And yet thy eyes thine owne faults cannot see.
Ile touch thee neerer: Hadst thou beene away,
As I was, and my selfe supply'de the day,
I would haue rows'd my Muse incontinent,
With Mirths best quaint deuise, for their content;
And in
extempore I would haue gain'd
The fauor of them all; which thee disdain'd.
But thou art hatcht from
Saturnes frozen braine,
Poore drowsie groome of sleepie
Morpheus traine:
If there be any sparke of Muse in thee,
It is the tayle-gut of
Melpomenie,
Which doth instruct thee in thy filthie tearmes;
There's nothing else in thee my Penne affirmes.
Hadst thou done well, the credit had been thine;
But doing ill, thoud'st haue the shame be mine.
The Money pleasd thy humor passing well;
But thy discredit made thy anger swell
Aboue the verge of Patience; and thy Sayle,
Blowne full of Enuie, bursts it selfe to Rayle,
[Page]Not publikely, but in a priuate Hole
Kindle thy Mallice at the Deuils coale:
But I with water of true Honestie
Will quench thy raging heat of Villanie.
How brauely thou canst brag it out, and swagger,
And talk of stabbes (God blesse vs) & thy dagger:
I would not see thy spightfull spit-Frog drawne,
'Twill serue thee better for an Ale-house pawne.
Thou scornst to foule thy fingers vpon men,
Because thou knowst they will shake hands agen:
But thou art excellent at these windie puffes,
And darst encounter boyes at fisticuffes;
But Sirrha, looke to your greene Wastcoat well,
For feare the boyes doe teare it off peccemell.
All the kinde fauor that I will implore,
Is, That thou wouldst not threaten me no more:
And yet, now I remember, 'tis no wrong;
For threatned folke (the Prouerbe sayes) liue long:
But with thy Penne write, & reuenge thy spleene,
Ile haue an Answere that shall cut as keene.
But now base Slanderer, I must tearme thee so;
Why medlest thou with them thou dost not know:
This long I haue but spent my Inke in ieast,
But now Ile dart my anger at thy breast:
I would I had the humor of some Scold,
That I, like thee, my venome might vnfold.
Thou neuer knewst my birth, nor my begetting,
So well as I thy Rascall Play, and Cheating:
[Page]But whatsoere my birth or breeding bee,
Spider, I liue to tosse and torture thee,
Vse thee like Stock-fish, gill thee like a Sprat,
Duck thee i'the Towne-ditch, like a Water-Rat,
Make Iigges and Ballads of thy apish Toyes,
For to be sung by thred-bare Fidlers Boyes:
Yet to doe this, I shall but proue a Babie;
Thou hast disgrac'd thy selfe as much as may be.
Thou
Barrabas of all humanitie,
Base slanderer of Christianitie,
Know that I am a Christian, and am borne
Better then thy best Kindred, Ile be sworne:
How thy own tongue thy breeding doth display,
By Pedlers French, and Canting, Curds & Whay;
And Ile approue it to thy foule disgrace,
Thou art sprung from basenesse; I, from Gentries Race:
Which to make good, my Parents yet doe liue,
And each day at their Table food doe giue
To better men then thou; mishapen slaue:
Thus beare thy slanders with thee to thy graue.
If I at Grauesend rim'de for foureteene pence,
For 12. pence thou hast row'de that voiage since:
Allow it were no more; I bor't away
With better credit then thou didst thy Play.
Thy enuie is not worth the speaking of;
The more thou raylst at me, the more I laugh:
I scorne to begge (as thou dost) Poets phrases
To raise my name; let Merit sing my praises:
[Page]For were they meaner then thy own desert,
They were the worse where thou shouldst sing a part:
Thou dost but thinke there's nothing good in me;
But I am sure there is much lesse in thee.
That hate thou bear'st me, prethee beare me still,
My good with enuie all thy veines shall fill,
Vntil they swell and burst thy angrie gall:
Then if I liue, I will lament thy fall;
And on thy graue this Epitaph bestow,
For to be read for either friend or foe.
Epitaph.
HEre lyes a Carkasse in this Graue,
Who while he liu'd, would rayle and raue;
Borrow his wit from others worth,
And in his owne name set it forth:
He row'de from Tyber to the Thames,
And there his tongue himselfe proclaimes
The luster of all Watermen,
To row with Scull, or write with Pen.
O, had he still kept on the Water,
And neuer come vpon Theater,
He might haue liu'de full merrily,
And not haue di'de so lowsily.
O, 'twas that foolish scuruie Play
At Hope that tooke his sence away:
Yet he to blot out all his shame,
Imputes the fault on
Fennors name;
[Page]And rayl'de at him like a mad bodie;
Liu'de a bare Foole, di'de a base Noddie.
But if you'le know what was his name,
I willingly will shew the same:
No Land-Poet, nor Sea-Saylor,
But a poore Sculler, call'd
Iohn Taylor:
And had not Hate this Wonder slaine,
He would haue liu'de a Knaue in graine.
Thus
Iack thou seest what friendship I would do,
Garnish thy Graue out with a verse or two:
But yet thou art aliue, and I surmise
Thou wilt not die till Crowes pecke out thy eyes.
Ide wish thee sayle vnto some foraine Places,
Where they haue neuer heard of thy Disgraces:
The Baramoodes Toung thou dost professe;
The name of Poet there thou may'st possesse:
There spread thy Pamphlets, make thē vnderstand
Thou art the chiefest Poet in that Land.
Thou sayst my Pate a mint of Lyes can forge;
Indeed t'has wit ynough thy lyes to scourge:
For I was neither ridde South, North, nor East,
But into Warwikeshire, direct Northwest:
Nor did I thither ride, to shunne thy Play,
But 'twas my Fathers will call'd me away;
And for th'obedience that he in me found,
He gaue me his blessing, with a hundred pound.
Then Sculler know, that was no Tinkers gift,
Nor had I need for thy poore Crowne to shift:
[Page]But he that told thee I was gone int' Kent,
Spoke halfe as true as thou dost, lies inuent.
But see how Enuie in thy heart doth trot,
Thou grieu'st that I a poore mans Pardon got;
Is thy eye euill then, 'cause mine is good?
Or wouldst thou stop my Fountaine with thy mud?
No; spight of thee, thou Canniball to man,
I will not cease to doe what good I can:
Nor doe I looke for Siluer for my meede,
When poore men want, if I can helpe their neede:
For though thou raylst on me at the Beare garden,
Rather then see thee hangd, Ide beg thy Pardon;
Although it cost me more the suing forth
In readie money then thy Boat is worth:
So much I tender Man, though bred by Nature,
As being Image of his high Creator:
But thou that of mans Life art no esteemer,
What mercie canst thou hope frō thy Redeemer.
Say I had wrōgd thee, thou good-names betrayer,
Thou call'st for Vengeance in thy Sauiors prayer:
I will not say so, but it doth appeare,
Thou scarce dost say thy prayers once a yeare:
Thou must forgiue, if thou wouldst be forgiuen;
For if thou fear'st not Hell, nere hope for Heauen.
Thou dost accuse the King as well for Graunts
As men for Sutes: But leaue these bitter taunts,
And learne in time, blacke tayle of insolence,
To arme thy heart with Christian patience.
[Page]Thus haue I answered all thy false Alarmes:
Now it remaines for me to blaze thy Armes;
For thou hast falsely set vp mine in blue;
Wherefore I meane to haue a bowt with you.
Thy Heraldrie shall not out-strip my braine,
But Ile deuise as good for thee againe:
And first; because all Sculls thou dost excell,
A siluer Oare will for thy Crest doe well,
A paire of Armes bound in a sable Scarffe,
In a sad field, as large as Wapping Wharffe,
Out of the water shall appeare one dead,
A Halter and a crosse-barre ore his head;
And on his Shield this Motto shall be found,
Taylor the Sculler was both hangd and drownd.
In all this blazing thee, no hurt I meane,
But hang thee till the Tide haue washt thee clean:
And when the billowes ore thy head are flowing,
And
AEolus 'gainst
Neptunes brow is blowing,
And Oares & Sculs aboue thy crosse-barre sailing,
There is great hope thou wilt forget thy rayling.
Thus haue I answered thee in three dayes space,
And yet my Penne ranne but an ampling pace:
Thus much I mildly write, in hope 'twil mēd thee;
If not, the Thames or Wapping shore wil end thee.
And last, to shew what course I would direct thee,
Vse honestie, from Tiborne to protect thee.
Thine more then thou desirest,
Will: Fennor,
his Maiesties Riming Poet.
To my kinde Friends in generall.
NOw you haue read, and vnderstand my mind,
I hope your wonted fauors I shall finde,
In spight of rayling basenesse, whose lewd toungs
Are Sathans Instruments for slanderous wrongs.
Sure I haue satisfied your expectation,
And vsde the Sculler in his owne vocation:
But if you thinke my Answere ouer-milde.
Know this; I would not haue my tongue defilde
With such vnciuile tearmes, much lesse my Pen,
Which now giues satisfaction to all men
Of Truth; I will auouch, in spight of ill,
My Answere was set vp in
Taylors Bill
Falsely, without my Knowledge or consent:
Then was not that a cause sufficient,
To giue my purpose suddaine alteration,
When I was plai'd the Knaue with in that fashion.
But though we could not then meet face to face,
I hope my Penne hath followed him apace:
If I be not deceiu'd, it hath out-stript him,
And spight of all his rods in pisse, 'tath whipt him,
And made his howling hollow voice to rore;
Yet for your loues, Ile giue him one lash more.
FENNORS finall Fare-ill to TAYLOR, With his blue Bitch and Cods bellie.
BLadder of Enuie, one word more with you;
I must hunt out your Bitch, of Azure hue:
You that at Roterdam haue Spies to houer,
And in Cods bellies transport Slanders ouer,
And without Licence belcheth them abroad,
'T were fit she should be searcht to see her Loan:
For in her Head, her Bellie, and her Crookes,
I doubt there wil be foūd some dangerous Books:
For he that vndertooke this Worke for thee,
Perhaps prints Romish Doctrine for a fee;
Or Matters preiudiciall to the State;
Or things Schismaticall, to breed debate.
If it be found so; spight of your Reuenge,
You and your Bitch may in a Halter swinge,
And your Cods bellie starue for want of water:
To you all three I doe commend this Satyre,
And to my Countrey all my loue and skill,
To roote out all such instruments of ill.
FINIS.